Detective and mystery stories; England -- Social life and customs -- 20th century -- Fiction; English fiction -- 20th century
“You say that you were in your own room practically all the time you
were alone. Is there any evidence you can bring forward to corroborate
this statement? Did Mrs. Morrice, Rosabelle, any of the servants look
in upon you during that period?”
The young man made a despairing gesture: “Alas, no. It is very rarely
that either Mrs. Morrice or Rosabelle pays me a visit when I am at
work. The servants are hardly ever about the house at that time. And I
know from what they said that both the ladies were out very early on
a shopping expedition. I don’t suppose that anybody knew for certain
whether I was here or in my own room. I have nothing to offer you, sir,
but my bare word, my solemn oath, if you choose to accept it. But if I
am what you appear to think me, my oath would carry no more weight than
my word. Again I say, much as appearances are against me, inexplicable
and astounding as the whole thing is, before heaven I am not the thief
who has stolen your property.”
“Then if you are not the thief, I must be,” cried the irate financier
with bitter sarcasm, “though, I take it, the most suspicious detective
in the world would hardly dare to suspect me of purloining my own
money and diamonds.”
There was another long pause. Morrice walked up and down the spacious
room with long strides, the stern frown on his face now deepening,
now clearing a little, as his conflicting thoughts raced through his
brain. No doubt to him the brazen effrontery of the young man seemed
incredible, in view of the damning facts of the situation. And that
seemingly feeble excuse that he had been in his own room during the
time of the burglary, during the whole period between breakfast and the
moment when he left the house—did it hold water?
Was it a lie invented on the spur of the moment, or had it been thought
out beforehand to be produced at the moment of discovery. And yet, if
Richard were a cunning criminal, would he not have taken precautions to
secure some sort of alibi? The theft from the safe would not have taken
more than a minute, the articles were all together, their removal would
have taken no time. He could have gone back to his room, rung the bell
three or four times to summon a servant on one pretext or another. It
might not have been convincing proof, for the robbery could have been
accomplished so quickly, but it would have been better than no proof at
all.
But then the cleverest criminals made often very stupid mistakes, and
he could not believe the young man to be a hardened malefactor. He had
some secret vices that had never been suspected, he had got into money
difficulties; in his perplexity he had taken advantage of the trust
reposed in him, and yielded to a sudden temptation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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