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What he expected to find I had no idea, but his attention seemed to be more particularly directed towards the wainscot and the picture-rails of the empty and uncarpeted rooms which we entered. Whatever he had sought he failed to find, and at last we stood in a desolate apartment looking out into the tangled shrubbery before the windows. The back of the garage was visible from there and I viewed it dully, wondering what evil secret it held, and marveling at the trick of fate which had made me witness of an act in this gruesome drama.
"Of course, Gatton," I said, "we are all along a.s.suming that Sir Marcus actually met his death in this house. We must remember that he may merely have been brought here after the crime."
"Such a short period elapsed," replied the Inspector, "between his leaving the New Avenue Theater and the approximate time of his death that it seems unlikely that he visited any intermediate spot."
"But he may not have been in the crate when Bolton and I saw it."
"I don't believe he was in the crate then," replied Gatton, "but I think he was at the Red House nevertheless."
I stared at him with curiosity.
"You mean that he was in the house at the time that the constable and I opened the garage?"
"I do. I think he was in that room where supper was laid for two."
"Good G.o.d!" I exclaimed; for there was something horrible in the idea of the man who now lay murdered having been in the house presumably alive, whilst Bolton and I had stood within forty yards of him; in the idea that it had lain in our power, except for those human limitations which rendered us ignorant of his presence, to have averted his fate, perhaps to have checked the remorseless movement of this elaborate murder machine which seemingly had been set up in the Red House.
"Some one was here last night," declared Gatton suddenly, as we turned to leave the deserted room, "after you and Bolton had gone. Everything incriminating the a.s.sa.s.sin has been removed. Looking at the matter judicially, it becomes quite evident that any one clever enough to have planned this crime could not possibly have been guilty of an act of such glaring stupidity as that of accidentally leaving a photograph planted upon the mantelpiece."
That this fact had presented itself to the Inspector with such a force of conviction raised a great load from my mind. It had all along been evident to me, but I had feared that to the official outlook of my companion, and the official outlook is always peculiar, it might have seemed otherwise.
"The clever and cunning villain who planned this thing," I said, "has overstepped himself, as you say, Gatton. If the murder was planned artistically, in his attempt to throw the onus of the crime upon innocent shoulders he has been guilty of a piece of very mediocre work. It would not deceive a child."
"No, I agree with you there. The discovery of that photograph has done more to convince me of the innocence of Miss Merlin than any amount of testimonials to her good character could ever have done. You see," he added, smiling whimsically, "all sorts of people hitherto unsuspected by their closest friends of criminal tendency, develop that taint, so that I am never surprised to find a convicted thief or a.s.sa.s.sin possessed of credentials which would do justice to an Archbishop. But when I see an obviously artificial clew I recognize it a mile off.
Real clews never stare you in the face like that."
Coming out of the front door, we walked down the leaf-strewn drive to find that the constable on duty at the gate had been joined by a plain-clothes man who was evidently waiting to speak to the Inspector.
"Yes?" said Gatton eagerly, at sight of the newcomer.
"We have her, sir," he reported tersely.
"Does he refer to Marie?" I asked.
Gatton nodded.
"I think, Mr. Addison," he said, "I will proceed immediately to Bow Street, where she has been taken to be interrogated. Will you come with me or are you otherwise engaged?"
I hesitated ere I replied:
"I do not particularly want to confront this woman, but I should be much indebted if you could let me know the result of your examination."
"I shall do that without fail," said Gatton, "and some time to-day I should be obliged if you could provide me with the facts concerning the little cat-images which you said you had in your possession."
"Certainly," I agreed. "You are still of the opinion that the mark upon the crate and the image of the cat-woman have an important bearing upon the crime?"
"I don't doubt it," was the reply. "If the photograph clew is a false one, the cat clew is a true one and one to be followed up. Perhaps,"
he added, "it would be as well if you returned now and looked out the points which you think would be of interest, as when I come I may not have long to stay."
"I will do so," I said, "although I think I can lay my hands upon the material almost immediately."
Accordingly Gatton set off with the detective who had brought the news of Marie's arrest and I, turning in the opposite direction, proceeded towards my cottage in such a state of mental tumult respecting what the end of all this would be and what it might mean for Isobel, that I found myself unable to think connectedly; and needless to say I failed to conjure up by any stretch of the imagination a theory which could cover this amazing and terrible sequence of events.
CHAPTER VII
THE CAT OF BUBASTIS
"She belongs to the innumerable family of cats which suddenly came forth from the ruins of Tell Bastah in 1878," I wrote, Sir Gaston Maspero's "Egyptian Art" lying before me on the table, "and were in a few years scattered over the whole world."
"She is Bast, a G.o.ddess of good family, the wors.h.i.+p of whom flourished especially in the east of the delta, and she is very often drawn or named on the monuments, although they do not tell us enough of her myths or her origin. She was allied or related to the Sun, and was now said to be his sister or wife, now his daughter. She sometimes filled a gracious and beneficent role, protecting men against contagious diseases or evil spirits, keeping them off by the music of her sistrum: she had also her hours of treacherous perversity, during which she played with her victim as with a mouse, before finis.h.i.+ng him off with a blow of her claws. She dwelt by preference in the city that bore her name, Poubast.i.t, the Bubastis of cla.s.sical writers. Her temple, at which Cheops and Chephren had worked while building their pyramids, was rebuilt by the Pharaohs of the 22nd Dynasty, enlarged by those of the 26th; when Herodotus visited it in the middle of the fifth century B.C. he considered it one of the most remarkable he had seen in the parts of Egypt through which he had traveled.
"The fetes of Bast attracted pilgrims from all parts of Egypt, as at the present day those of Sidi Ahmed el-Bedawee draw people to the modern fair of Tantah. The people of each village crowded into large boats to get there, men and women pell-mell, with the fixed intention of enjoying themselves on the journey, a thing they never failed to do. They accompanied the slow progress of navigation with endless songs, love songs rather than sacred hymns, and there were also to be found among them flute-players and castanet-players to support or keep time to the voices. Whenever they pa.s.sed by a town they approached the bank as near as they could without landing, and then, while the orchestra redoubled its noise, the pa.s.sengers threw volleys of insults and coa.r.s.e remarks at the women standing on the banks; they retorted, and when they had exhausted words ..."
I finished my notes at this point; the improper behavior of the Ancient Egyptians mentioned by the great Egyptologist having no possible bearing upon the matter in hand, I thought. I then proceeded to add some facts directly relating to the votive offerings laid at the feet of the G.o.ddess.
"The greater number of pilgrims, before returning home, left a souvenir of their visit at the feet of Bast. It was a votive stele with a fine inscription, and a picture showing the donor wors.h.i.+ping his G.o.ddess; or a statuette in blue or green pottery, or if they were wealthy, in bronze, silver, or sometimes gold: the G.o.ddess would be standing, seated, crouching, with a woman's body and a cat's head, a sistrum or an aegis in her hand. During the Greek period the figures were in bronze or in painted or gilded wood surmounted by a cat's head in bronze, many were life-size and modeled with elaborate art; they had eyes of enamel and amulets on the forehead."
The learned authority went on to explain that these acc.u.mulated offerings were after a time stored by the priests in cellars or in pits dug expressly for them, "veritable _favissae_ similar to those of cla.s.sical times." They acc.u.mulated in thousands, large and small, some intact and fresh as when just made, others already out of shape and of no value. The places of concealment were soon forgotten, and the stores hidden therein reposed beyond the reach of men until the day when the chances of excavation brought them to light.
My notes completed, I turned my attention to the little image of green enamel ware which Gatton had left with me for examination. It was not possible to determine the period at which it was buried, but judging from the contours and general forms, together with the aspect of the enamel, I thought I recognized the style of the second Sate Period, and attributed the piece to the early Ptolemies, or the fourth century B.C. It was the time when the wors.h.i.+p of Bast and her subordinate forms, Pakh, Mait, was most popular, the period when the most extensive cemetery of cats was established in Egypt. The execution of the little figure was pure Egyptian, and in no way betrayed Greek influence.
So far had my studies proceeded when I heard the door-bell ring, and Coates entered the room.
"Detective-Inspector Gatton to see you, sir."
Gatton came in looking if anything more puzzled than when I had left him at the Red House; also I thought he looked tired, and:
"Mix yourself a drink, Inspector," I said, pointing to a side-table upon which refreshments were placed.
"Thanks," replied Gatton. "I have not had time to stop for a drink or even a smoke since I left you; but evidence is coming in quickly enough now."
He helped himself to a whisky and soda, being an old visitor and one used to the Bohemian ways of my household; then setting his gla.s.s upon a corner of my writing-table, he dropped into the armchair and began in leisurely fas.h.i.+on to fill his pipe.
Although the hour was growing late, sunset was still a long way off and the prospect visible through the window was bathed in golden light. From where I sat I could catch a glimpse of the tree-lined road, and for the first time since that strange experience had befallen me, I found myself wondering if the vaguely-perceived follower whom I had detected on the previous night and those blazing feline eyes which had looked out at me from beneath the shadow of the hedge could have had any possible connection with the tragedy which at about the same hour was being enacted in the Red House. I determined presently to confide the strange particulars to my friend, but first I was all anxiety to learn what evidence Marie had given; and that this evidence, to which he had referred had done little more than to increase Gatton's perplexity was clear enough from his expression.
Therefore:
"Tell me about Marie," I said.
Gatton smiled grimly, took a drink from his gla.s.s, and then:
"She began of course as I had antic.i.p.ated, by denying all knowledge of the matter, but recognizing that she was in a tight corner, she presently changed her tactics, and although every available plan was tried to induce her to change her ground, she afterwards stuck to the extraordinary story which we first extracted from her. Briefly it was this:
"The late Sir Marcus had been paying unwelcome attention to Miss Merlin for a long time, and Marie had instructions that he was to be discouraged as much as possible. In fact I am pleased to say that your theory of Miss Merlin's ignorance respecting the murder plot is borne out by the testimony of her maid. On several occasions, it appears, when he sent his card to the dressing-room, Marie returned equivocal messages and did not even inform her mistress of Sir Marcus's visit.
This had been going on for some time when one night whilst Miss Merlin was on the stage a telephone call came for Marie and a certain proposal was made to her.