The Old Man in the CornerOrczy, Emmuska Orczy, Baroness
General
The Old Man in the Corner
Orczy, Emmuska Orczy, Baroness
Detective and mystery stories, English
"As they were read by Mr. Pepys, an awed and expectant hush seemed to
descend over the large crowd gathered there, and all necks were strained
eagerly forward to catch a glimpse of a tall, elegant woman, faultlessly
dressed and wearing exquisite jewellery, but whose handsome face wore,
as the prosecuting counsel read her husband's deposition, a more and
more ashen hue.
"'This, your Honour, is the statement made upon oath by Mr. Francis
Morton,' commenced Mr. Pepys in that loud, sonorous voice of his which
sounds so impressive in a crowded and hushed court. '"I was obliged, for
certain reasons which I refuse to disclose, to make a payment of a large
sum of money to a man whom I did not know and have never seen. It was in
a matter of which my wife was cognisant and which had entirely to do
with her own affairs. I was merely the go-between, as I thought it was
not fit that she should see to this matter herself. The individual in
question had made certain demands, of which she kept me in ignorance as
long as she could, not wishing to unnecessarily worry me. At last she
decided to place the whole matter before me, and I agreed with her that
it would be best to satisfy the man's demands.
"'"I then wrote to that individual whose name I do not wish to disclose,
addressing the letter, as my wife directed me to do, to the Brighton
post office, saying that I was ready to pay the £10,000 to him, at any
place or time and in what manner he might appoint. I received a reply
which bore the Brighton postmark, and which desired me to be outside
Furnival's, the drapers, in West Street, at 9.30 on the morning of March
17th, and to bring the money (£10,000) in Bank of England notes.
"'"On the 16th my wife gave me a cheque for the amount and I cashed it
at her bank--Bird's in Fleet Street. At half-past nine the following
morning I was at the appointed place. An individual wearing a grey
overcoat, bowler hat, and red tie accosted me by name and requested me
to walk as far as his lodgings in the King's Parade. I followed him.
Neither of us spoke. He stopped at a house which bore the name 'Russell
House,' and which I shall be able to swear to as soon as I am able to go
out. He let himself in with a latch-key, and asked me to follow him up
to his room on the third floor. I thought I noticed when we were in the
room that he locked the door; however, I had nothing of any value about
me except the £10,000, which I was ready to give him. We had not
exchanged the slightest word.
"'"I gave him the notes, and he folded them and put them in his
pocket-book. Then I turned towards the door, and, without the slightest
warning, I felt myself suddenly gripped by the shoulder, while a
handkerchief was pressed to my nose and mouth. I struggled as best I
could, but the handkerchief was saturated with chloroform, and I soon
lost consciousness. I hazily remember the man saying to me in short,
jerky sentences, spoken at intervals while I was still weakly
struggling:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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