When Grimsby and I had somewhat recovered from the shock of this dramatic meeting, and Sir Roland, Madden, and Moris Klaw had talked together for a few moments, said Moris Klaw:
“And now Sir Roland will tell us all about the death of Mr. Heidelberger!”
Inspector Grimsby was all eyes when the young baronet began:
“You must know, then, that I, together with three others, have been engaged, since my departure from England, in a mining venture in West Africa. Up to the time when I left, and, for the sake of my health, came to England, our efforts had been attended by only moderate success. Thus, on arriving in Cresping and taking lodgings with Hinxman as ‘Mr. Rogers’--for the circumstances under which I left home made me desirous of remaining unknown in the village--I, on learning that my father had just died and that the Hall had fallen into Heidelberger’s hands, realized that my slender capital would not allow of my buying him out. The facts of the case came as a great shock to me, and, without revealing my identity--the beard which I had cultivated in Africa, but which the doctors have removed, acting as an effectual disguise--I made inquiries concerning Ryder. I had little difficulty in finding him, and he alone, in Cresping, knew who I really was.
“I now come to the events that immediately preceded Heidelberger’s death. There was one object in the old place for which I determined to negotiate, and which, owing to its associations, I particularly desired to retain. This was my mother’s portrait. I may mention here that, for certain reasons which I would prefer not to specify, I had rather have burnt the picture than see it fall into the hands of the Jew.
“With this object in view, then, I enlisted the services of Ryder, though from none other than myself would he have accepted the task. This brings me to the day prior to Heidelberger’s death, and, on that morning, I received news from Africa which led me to hope that I might, after all, be able to save my old home from an ignominious fate. Herein my hopes have since been realized, for I learnt to-day that the mine has made rich men of us all; and I assume that some ill-advised remark upon the part of Ryder, regarding Heidelberger’s possible expulsion, gave rise to the idea that the old man contemplated a violent deed.
“It therefore came about that he made an appointment with Heidelberger, an appointment which he duly kept; and it was solely due to my anxiety on Ryder’s behalf, and lest he should meet with some ill-treatment from the Jew--whom I knew for a man of most brutal disposition--that I took certain steps which, indirectly, brought about the tragedy.
“In common with most old mansions of the period, the Hall has its hidden entrances and exits--though, in accordance with certain ancient traditions, the secret of their existence is strictly preserved among the family. With a view, therefore, to becoming an unseen witness of the transactions between Ryder and Heidelberger, I made use of a passage that opens into a shrubbery some fifty yards from the west wing. Entering, and mounting the steps at whose foot the tunnel terminates, I found myself at the back of an old painting in the banqueting hall. The frame of this picture forms a door which opens upon pressing a spring, but the apparatus, owing to its great age, works very stiffly. From this position, then, I could hear all that took place in the hall, where, I had anticipated, the negotiations would be conducted, as my mother’s picture hangs there.
“This proved to be the case; for I had but just gained the top of the steps when I heard the two enter the hall. Heidelberger spoke first.
“‘Think of you wanting to buy Lady Crespie’s picture, you sentimental old fool!’ he said. ‘If it had been another I could name who wanted it, the case would have been different!’
“Then I heard Ryder’s voice. ‘What do you mean, Mr. Heidelberger?’ he asked.
“I awaited the Jew’s reply with some curiosity. As I had anticipated, it consisted of a foul and unfounded imputation against my poor mother. It was, in fact, more than I could bear in silence, and the tolerance of old Ryder, too, had reached its limit. For, at the moment that I wrenched open the panel and sprang into the room to confront this slanderer, I heard the sound of a blow, followed by an animal-like roar of anger from Heidelberger.
“The next moment, he seized the old man by the throat. Before he had time to proceed further I struck him heavily with my fist, so that he released his grip and turned to face his new assailant.
“One tribute I must pay to Heidelberger. He was, seemingly, incapable of fear; for this sudden attack by a person he had not known to be present seemed only to arouse a new resentment. His face, as he turned and looked me up and down, contained no trace of fear.
“‘So it’s you that wants the picture, is it?’ he sneered. ‘I suppose you are----’
“‘Stop!’ I said. ‘I am Roland Crespie, and can listen to no more of your foul slanders!’
“For a second he hesitated, looking from me to Ryder and then toward the picture, dimly discernible in the light of the candle which he had brought with him. Then, before I could divine his intention, he drew a knife from his pocket, and, opening a blade, took a step in the direction of the portrait. ‘You shall never have it!’ he said.
“He had actually inserted the blade in the canvas--as an examination will show--when I came upon him, and we closed in a desperate struggle.
“In what followed, one can almost trace the finger of destiny. Heidelberger was a more powerful man than myself, but in his fury he endeavoured to stab me with the knife which he held in his hand!
“I seized his wrist, but he wrenched it from my grasp. I leapt back from him--as he struck down with the knife--and to the left of one of the posts supporting the minstrels’ gallery.
“In the blindness of his anger, Heidelberger failed to perceive the proximity of this post. Moreover, it was very dark under the gallery. He threw himself forward savagely--and struck his shoulder against the post. The impact was tremendous.
“Gentlemen! I tremble, now, to relate what happened! The ax of ‘Black Geoffrey,’ which had hung for centuries before the rail above, was shaken from its place by the shock and its time-worn fastenings were torn bodily from their hold. At the instant that Heidelberger’s huge body struck the post, the great ax, as though detached by invisible hands, fell, blade downward, cleaving the head of the unfortunate man and remaining, with quivering shaft, upright in the oaken floor!
“The suddenness of the tragedy almost dazed me, and I was awakened to its awful reality by old Ryder’s cry--‘Oh, Master Roly!’ As Master Roly I had always been known to the old butler, and this name it was which someone stated to be ‘holy.’
“Our subsequent action was, perhaps, ill-advised. Removing the ax and raising the head of the victim, examination showed him to be dead, and, hearing hesitating footsteps upon the narrow stair beneath the gallery, we seized the candle and retreated through the secret panel, Ryder severely cutting his hand in endeavouring to force the rusty bolt into place. It was not until we stood in a lane bordering the grounds, where I had tethered the mare upon which I had ridden from the farm, that the seemingly guilty nature of our action dawned upon me. Now, however, was too late to atone for what I attribute to a momentary panic; and requesting Ryder to keep silence until he received instructions from me, I mounted the mare, intending to return to my lodgings and think the matter quietly over.
“By an unlucky accident, the brute threw me, at some distance from the farm, thereby all but bringing about a second tragedy; and what followed is already known to you.
“Of Ryder I need only say that rather than incriminate me he was prepared to pay the penalty for a deed which was in truth a visitation of God. Doctor Madden recognized me, of course, and to him also I am eternally indebted. I had proposed to make this statement before a magistrate later to-day.”
“You see,” said Moris Klaw. “I have done nothing! It would all have happened the same if I had been in Peru!”
Grimsby cleared his throat.
“Without casting any doubt upon Sir Roland’s word,” he began, “there’s no evidence to go to a jury that he didn’t----”
“Pull down the ax himself?” suggested Klaw.
Grimsby looked uncomfortable.
“Well--is there?”
“There is!” rumbled Moris Klaw. “I am he! This case most triumphantly substantiates my theory of Cycles! Almost parallel it occurred hundreds of years ago, at Dyke Manor! The ax has repeated itself!”
“H’um!” said Grimsby. “Your theory of Cycles wouldn’t hold water with twelve good men and true, I’m afraid, Mr. Klaw!”
“Yes?” replied Moris Klaw. “No? You think not, eh? Well, then, there is another little point. I am an old crank-fool, eh? So? But you? You are sublimely mad, my Grimsby! You say he, or Mr. Ryder, may have snatched down the black ax? Yes? Have you tried to reach the spot where it hung before the rail?”
“No,” confessed Grimsby, with the light as of the dawning of an unpleasant idea in his eyes.
“No,” said Klaw, placidly; “but I have. Mr. Grimsby, it is impossible to reach within three feet of the spot, from the stair or from the gallery; and no live thing but a giraffe could reach it from the floor!”
We were seated in the train, homeward bound.
“For this case,” grumbled Klaw, “I get no credit. It will be said that it all came out without aid from you or from me. Never mind--I have my fee!”
He patted the haft of the great ax, which ghastly relic in some way he had arranged to appropriate. Grimsby was watching Isis Klaw out of the corner of his eye. From a dainty gold case she offered him a cigarette. Grimsby is no cigarette smoker but he accepted, with alacrity.
The beautiful Isis took one also, and lay back puffing sinuous spirals from between her perfect red lips.
