The Illustrious PrinceOppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
General
The Illustrious Prince
Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
Detective and mystery stories; Princes -- Fiction
“This much,” the doctor answered, “that on that very night, about half
an hour before your--shall we call it bicycle accident?--the special
train from Liverpool to London passed along that line. You will remember
the tragic occurrence which took place before she reached London, the
murder of the man Hamilton Fynes. If you read the report of the evidence
at the inquest, you will notice the engine driver’s declaration that
the only time on the whole journey when he travelled at less than forty
miles an hour was when passing over the viaduct and before entering the
tunnel which is plainly visible from my house.”
“This is very interesting,” the Prince remarked, “but it is not new. We
have known all this before. Perhaps, though, some fresh thing has come
into your mind connected with these happenings. If so, please do not
hesitate. Let me hear it.”
“It is a fresh thing to me,” the doctor said,--“fresh, in a sense,
though all the time I have had an uneasy feeling at the back of my head.
I know now what it was which brought Inspector Jacks to see me. I know
now what it was he had at the back of his head concerning the man who
met with a bicycle accident at this psychological moment.”
“Inspector Jacks is a very shrewd fellow,” the Prince said. “I should
not be in the least surprised if you were entirely right.”
The doctor moved restlessly in his chair. His eyes remained on his
companion’s face, as though fascinated.
“Can’t you understand,” he said, “that Inspector Jacks is on your track?
Rightly or wrongly, he believes that you had something to do with the
murder on the train that night.”
The Prince nodded amiably. He seemed in no way discomposed.
“I feel convinced,” he said, “that you are right. I agree with you.
I believe that Inspector Jacks has had that idea for some little time
now.”
The doctor gripped the sides of his chair and stared at this man who
discussed a matter so terrible with calm and perfect ease.
“Yes, I have felt that more than once,” the Prince continued. “My
presence upon the spot at that precise moment with injuries which had to
be explained somehow or other, was, without doubt, unfortunate.”
The two men sat for several moments without further speech. The doctor’s
features seemed to reflect something of the horror which he undoubtedly
felt. The Prince appeared only a trifle bored.
“So that is why,” the former exclaimed hoarsely, “I have been appointed
your physician in chief!”
“I had given you the credit, my dear doctor,” the Prince said smoothly,
“of having arrived at that decision some time ago. To a man of your
perceptions there can scarcely have been any question about it at all.
Besides, even Princes, you know, do not give fees of a thousand guineas
for nothing.”
Dr. Whiles rose slowly to his feet.
“You know the secret of that murder!” he declared.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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