The Woman in BlackBentley, E. C. (Edmund Clerihew)
General
The Woman in Black
Bentley, E. C. (Edmund Clerihew)
Detective and mystery stories; Trent, Philip (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
"As this ghastly array of incriminating circumstances rose up before me,
I dragged the stout letter-case from my pocket. In the intensity of the
moment I never entertained the faintest doubt that I was right, and that
the money was there. It would easily hold the packets of notes. But as I
felt it and weighed it in my hands it seemed to me there must be more
than this. It was too bulky. What more was to be laid to my charge?
After all, a thousand pounds was not much to tempt a man like myself to
run the risk of penal servitude. In this new agitation, scarcely knowing
what I did, I caught the surrounding strap in my fingers just above the
fastening and tore the staple out of the lock. These locks, you know,
are pretty flimsy as a rule."
Here Marlowe paused and walked to the oaken desk before the window.
Opening a drawer full of miscellaneous objects, he took out a box of odd
keys, and selected a small one distinguished by a piece of pink tape.
He handed it to Trent. "I keep that by me as a sort of morbid memento.
It is the key to the lock I smashed. I might have saved myself the
trouble if I had known that this key was at that moment in the left-hand
side-pocket of my overcoat. Manderson must have slipped it in, either
while the coat was hanging in the hall or while he sat at my side in the
car. I might not have found the tiny thing there for weeks--as a matter
of fact I did find it two days after Manderson was dead--but a police
search would have found it in five minutes. And then I--I with the case
and its contents in my pocket, my false name and my sham spectacles and
the rest of it--I should have had no explanation to offer but the highly
convincing one that I didn't know the key was there."
Trent dangled the key by its tape idly. Then--"How do you know this is
the key of that case?" he asked quickly.
"I tried it. As soon as I found it I went up and fitted it to the lock.
I knew where I had left the thing. So do you, I think, Mr. Trent. Don't
you?" There was a faint shade of mockery in Marlowe's voice.
"Touche!" Trent said, with a dry smile. "I found a large empty
letter-case with a burst lock lying with other odds and ends on the
dressing-table in Manderson's room. Your statement is that you put it
there. I could make nothing of it." He closed his lips.
"There was no reason for hiding it," said Marlowe. "But to get back to
my story. I burst the lock of the strap. I opened the case before one of
the lamps of the car. The first thing I found in it I ought to have
expected, of course; but I hadn't." He paused and glanced at Trent.
"It was--" began Trent mechanically; and then stopped himself. "Try not
to bring me in any more, if you don't mind," he said, meeting the
other's eye. "I have complimented you already in that document on your
cleverness. You need not prove it by making the judge help you out with
your evidence."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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