 Chapter 17 Mr. Quarter-Page Harks Back If Spargo had upset the old gentleman's bowl of punch, the second of the evening, or had dropped an infernal machine in their midst, he could scarcely have produced a more startling effect than that wrought upon them by his sudden production of the silver ticket. Their bubble of conversation died out, one of them dropped his pipe, another took his cigar out of his mouth as if he had suddenly discovered that he was sucking a stick of poison. All lifted astonished faces to the interrupter, staring from him to the shining object exhibited in his outstretched palm, from it back to him. And at last Mr. Quarter-Page, to whom Spargo had more particularly addressed himself, spoke, pointing with great onprosimal to the ticket. Young gentleman, he said, in accents that seemed to Spargo, to tremble a little, young gentleman, where did you get that? You know what it is, then? asked Spargo, willing to dally a little with the matter. You recognise it? Know it? Recognise it? exclaimed Mr. Quarter-Page, yes, and so does every gentleman present, and it is just because I see you are a stranger to this town that I ask you where you got it. Not I think, young gentleman, in this town. No, replied Spargo, certainly not in this town. How should I get it in this town if I'm a stranger? Quite true, quite true. Memored Mr. Quarter-Page, I cannot conceive how any person in the town who is in possession of one of those, what shall we call them, heirlooms? Yes, heirlooms of antiquity, could possibly be base enough to part with it. Therefore I ask again, where did you get that, young gentleman? Before I tell you that, answered Spargo, who, in answer to a silent sign from the fact man, had drawn a chair amongst them, perhaps you will tell me exactly what this is. I see it to be a bit of old, polished, much worn silver, having on the obverse the arms or heraldic bearings of somebody or something. On the reverse the figure of a running horse, but what is it? The five old men all glanced at each other and made simultaneous grunts. Then Mr. Quarter-Page spoke. It is one of the original 50 Burgess Tickets at Market Milcaster, young sir, which gave its holder special and greatly valued privileges, in respect to attendance at our once famous race meeting. Now, unfortunately, a thing of the past, he added, 50, I, 40 years ago, to be in possession of one of those tickets was, was a grand thing, said one of the old gentlemen. Mr. Lummis is right, said Mr. Quarter-Page. It was a grand thing, a very grand thing. Those tickets, sir, were treasured, are treasured. And yet you, a stranger, show us one. You got it, sir? Spargo saw that it was now necessary to cut matters short. I found this ticket under mysterious circumstances. In London, he answered, I want to trace it. I want to know who its original owner was. That is why I have come to Market Milcaster. Mr. Quarter-Page slowly looked round the circle of faces. Wonderful, he said. Wonderful. He found this ticket, one of our famous 50, in London, and under mysterious circumstances. He wants to trace it. He wants to know to whom it belonged. That is why he has come to Market Milcaster, most extraordinary. Gentlemen, I appeal to you if this is not the most extraordinary event that has happened in Market Milcaster for, I don't know how many years. There was a general murmur of assent, and Spargo found everybody looking at him, as if he had just announced that he had come to buy the whole town. But why? he asked, showing great surprise. Why? Why? exclaimed Mr. Quarter-Page. Why? he asks, why? Because, young gentlemen, it is the greatest surprise to me and to these friends of mine, too, every man jack of them, to hear that any one of our 50 tickets ever passed out of the possession of any of the 50 families to whom they belonged. And unless I am vastly, greatly, most unexplainably mistaken, young sir, you are not a member of any Market Milcaster family. No, I'm not, admitted Spargo, and he was going to act that until the previous evening he had never even heard of Market Milcaster, but he wisely refrained. No, I'm certainly not, he added. Mr. Quarter-Page waved his long pipe. I believe, he said, I believe that if the evening were not drawn to a close, it is already within a few minutes of our departure, young gentlemen, I believe I say that if I had time I could, from memory, give the names of the 50 families who held those tickets when the race meeting came to an end, I believe I could. I'm sure you could, asserted the little man in the loud suit, never with such a memory as yours, never. Especially for anything relating to the old racing matters, said the fat man, Mr. Quarter-Page is a walking encyclopedia. My memory is good, said Mr. Quarter-Page, it's the greatest blessing I have in my declining years. Yes, I am sure I could do that with a little thought, and what's more, nearly every one of those 50 families is still in the town, or if not in the town, close by it, or if not close by it, I know where they are. Therefore I cannot make out how this young gentleman, from London, did you say, sir? From London, answered Spargo. This young gentleman from London comes to be in possession of one of our tickets, continued Mr. Quarter-Page. It is wonderful, but I tell you, watch young gentleman from London, if you will do me the honour to breakfast with me in the morning, sir. I will show you my racing books and papers, and we will speedily discover who the original holder of that ticket was. My name, sir, is Quarter-Page, Benjamin Quarter-Page, and I reside at the ivy-covered house, exactly opposite this inn, and my breakfast hour is nine o'clock sharp, and I shall bid you heartily welcome. Spargo made his best bow. Sir, he said, I am greatly obliged by your kind invitation, and I shall consider it an honour to wait upon you to the moment. Accordingly, at five minutes to nine next morning, Spargo found himself in an old-fashioned parlour looking out upon a delightful garden, gay with summer flowers, and being introduced by Mr. Quarter-Page, senior, to Mr. Quarter-Page, junior, a pleasant gentleman of sixty, always referred to by his father as something quite juvenile, and to Miss Quarter-Page, a young lady of something a little less elderly than her brother, and to a breakfast-table bountiously spread with all the choice-fair of the season. Mr. Quarter-Page, senior, was as fresh and rosy as a cherub. It was a revelation to Spargo to encounter so old a man who was still in possession of such life and spirits, and of such a vigorous and healthy appetite. Naturally, the talk over the breakfast-table ran on Spargo's possession of the old silver ticket, upon which subject it was evident Mr. Quarter-Page was still exercising his intellect, and Spargo, who had judged it well to enlighten his host as the who he was, and had exhibited a letter with which the editor of the Watchman had furnished him, told how, in the exercise of his journalistic duties, he had discovered the ticket in the lining of an old box. But he made no mention of the Marbury matter, being anxious to see whether Mr. Quarter-Page's revelations would lead him. You have no idea, Mr. Spargo, said the old gentleman when breakfast was over. He and Spargo were closeted together in a little library in which were abundant evidences of the host's tastes in sporting matters. You have no idea of the value which was attached to the possession of one of those silver tickets. There is mine, as you see, securely framed, and just as securely fastened to the wall. Those fifty silver tickets, my dear sir, were made when our old race meeting was initiated in the year 1781. They were made in the town by a local silversmith whose great-great-grandson still carries on the business. The fifty were distributed amongst the fifty leading burgesses of the town to be kept in their families for ever. Nobody ever anticipated in those days that our race meeting would ever be discontinued. The ticket carried great privileges. It made its holder and all members of his family male and female. Free of the stands, rings and paddocks, it gave the holder himself and his eldest son, if of age, the right to a seat at our grand race banquet, and which, I may tell you, Mr. Spargo, royalty itself has been present in the good old days. Consequently, as you see, to be the holder of a silver ticket was to be somebody. And when the race meeting fell through, asked Spargo, what then? Then, of course, the families who held the tickets looked upon them as heirlooms to be taken great care of, replied Mr. Quarterpage. They were dealt with as I dealt with mine, framed on velvet and hung up, or locked away. I'm sure that anybody who had one took the greatest care of it. Now, I said last night over there at the dragon that I could repeat the names of all the families who held these tickets, so I can. But here, the old gentleman drew out a draw and produced from it a parchment-bound book, which he handled with great reference. Here is a little volume of my own handwriting, memoranda relating to Market Milcaster races, in which is a list of the original holders, together with another list showing who held the tickets when the races were given up. I make bold to say, Mr. Spargo, that by going through the second list, I could trace every ticket, except the one you have in your purse. Everyone, said Spargo, in some surprise. Everyone, for as I told you, continued Mr. Quarterpage, the families are either in the town. We're conservative people here in Market Milcaster and we don't move far afield, or they're just outside the town, or they're not far away, and can't conceive how the tickets you have, and it's genuinely enough, could ever get out of possession of one of these families, and... Perhaps, suggested Spargo, it never has been out of possession. I told you it was found in the lining of a box. That box belonged to a dead man. A dead man? exclaimed Mr. Quarterpage. A dead man? Who could... Ah, perhaps. Perhaps I have an idea. Yes, an idea. I remember something now that I had never thought of. The old gentleman unfastened the clasp of his parchment-pound book, and turned over its pages until he came to one whereon was a list of names. He pointed this out to Spargo. There is the list of holders of the silver tickets at the time the race meetings came to an end, he said. If you were acquainted with this town, you would know that those are the names of our best-known inhabitants. All, of course, Burgesses. There's mine, you see, Quarterpage. There's Lummis. There's Kay. There's Scheme. There's Temple Bee. The gentleman you saw last night. All good old town names. They all are on this list. I know every family mentioned. The holders of that time are many of them dead, but their successors had the tickets. Yes, and now that I think of it, there's only one man who held a ticket when this list was made, about whom I don't know anything. At least anything recent. The ticket, Mr. Spargo, which you found, must have been his, but I thought, I thought somebody else had it. And this man, sir, who was he? Asked Spargo, intuitively conscious that he was coming to news. Is his name there? The old man ran the tip of his finger down the list of names. There it is, he said. John Maitland. Spargo bent over the fine writing. Yes, John Maitland, he observed. And who was John Maitland? Mr. Quarterpage shook his head. He turned to another of the many drawers in an ancient bureau and began to search amongst a mass of old newspapers, carefully sorted into small bundles and tied up. If you had lived in market milk-aster one and twenty years ago, Mr. Spargo, he said, you would have known who John Maitland was. For some time, sir, he was the best known man in the place, I and in this corner of the world. But, ah, here it is, the newspaper of October the 5th, 1891. Now, Mr. Spargo, you'll find in this old newspaper who John Maitland was and all about him. Now, I'll tell you what to do. I've just got to go into my office for an hour to talk the day's business over with my son. You take this newspaper out into the garden there with one of these cigars and read what you'll find in it. And when you've read that, we'll have some more talk. Spargo carried the old newspaper into the sunlit garden. End of Chapter 17. Chapter 18 of the Middle Temple Murder by J. S. Fletcher. This is the provox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 18. An old newspaper. As soon as Spargo unfolded the paper, he saw what he wanted on the middle page, headed in two lines of big capitals. He lighted a cigar and settled down to read. Market Milkaster Quarter Sessions, Trial of John Maitland. The Quarter Sessions for the Borough of Market Milkaster was held on Wednesday last October the 3rd, 1891 in the Town Hall before the recorder, Henry John Campanon Esquire K. C., who was accompanied on the bench by the worshipful the Mayor of Market Milkaster, Alderman Pettyford, the vicar of Market Milkaster, the Reverend P. B. Claberton M.A. R.D., Alderman Banks J.P., Alderman Peters J.P., Sergevay's Racton J.P., Colonel Floodgate J.P., Captain Murrell J.P., and other magistrates and gentlemen. There was a crowded attendance of the public in anticipation of the Trial of John Maitland, ex-manager of the Market Milkaster Bank, and the reserved portions of the court were filled with the elite of the town and neighbourhood, including a considerable number of ladies who manifested the greatest interest in the proceedings. The recorder, in charging the grand jury, said he regretted that the very pleasant and gratifying experience which had been his upon the occasion of his last two official visits to Market Milkaster, he referred to the fact that on both those occasions his friend, the worshipful Mayor, had been able to present him with a pair of white gloves, was not to be repeated on the present occasion. It could be their sad and regrettable lot to have before them a fellow townsman whose family had for generations occupied a foremost position in the life of the borough. That fellow townsman was charged with one of the most serious offenses known to a commercial nation like ours, the offence of embezzling the monies of the bank of which he had for many years been the trusted manager and with which he had been connected all his life since his school days. He understood that the prisoner who would shortly be put before the court on his trial was about to plead guilty and there would accordingly be no need for him to direct the gentlemen of the grand jury on this matter. What he had to say respecting the gravity and even enormity of the offence he would reserve. The recorder then addressed himself to the grand jury on the merits of two minor cases which came before the court at a later period of the morning after which they retired and having formally returned a true bill against the prisoner and a petty jury chosen from well-known burgesses of the town having been Julie's sworn. John Macon, aged 42, bank manager of the Bank House High Street Market Milkaster was formally charged with embezzling on April 23rd, 1891, the sum of 4,875 pounds, 10 shillings and sixpence. The monies of his employers, the market milkaster banking company limited and converting the same to his own use. The prisoner who appeared to feel his position most acutely and who looked very pale and much worn was represented by Mr. Charles Doolittle, the well-known barrister of King's Haven, Mr. Stevens Casey appeared on behalf of the prosecution. Macon, upon being charged, pleaded guilty. Mr. Stevens Casey, addressing the recorder, said that without any desire to unduly press upon the prisoner who, he ventured to think, had taken a very wise course in pleading guilty to that particular count in the indictment with which he stood charged, he felt bound in the interests of justice to set forth to the courts some particulars of the defocations which had arisen through the prisoner's much lamented dishonesty. He proposed to offer a clear and succinct account of the matter. The prisoner, John Maitland, was the last of an all-market milkaster family. He was, in fact, he believed with the exception of his own infant son, the very last of the race. His father had been manager of the bank before him. Maitland himself had entered the service of the bank at the age of 18 when he left the local grammar school. He succeeded his father as manager at the age of 32. He had therefore occupied this highest position of trust for 10 years. His directors had the fullest confidence in him. They relied on his honesty and his honor. They gave him discretionary powers such as no bank manager probably ever enjoyed or held before. In fact, he was so trusted that he was to all intents and purposes the market milkaster banking company. In other words, he was allowed full control over everything and given full license to do what he liked. Whether the directors were wise in extending such liberty to even the most trusted servant, it was not for him, Mr. Stevens, to say. It was some consolation under the circumstances to know that the loss would fall upon the directors in as much as they themselves held nearly the whole of the shares. But he had to speak of the loss of the serious defocations which Maitland had committed. The prisoner had wisely pleaded guilty to the first count of the indictment, but there were no less than 17 counts in the indictment. He had pleaded guilty to embezzling a sum of 4,875 pounds odd, but the total amount of the defocations comprised in the 17 counts was no less. It seemed a most amazing sum. Then, 221,573 pounds, eight shillings and sixpence. There was the fact the banking company had been robbed of over 200,000 pounds by the prisoner in the dock before a mere accident. The most trifling chance had revealed to the astounded directors that he was robbing them at all. And the most serious feature of the whole case was that not one penny of this money had been or ever could be recovered. He believed that the prisoner's learning counsel was about to urge upon the court that the prisoner himself had been tricked and deceived by another man, unfortunately not before the court, a man he understood, also well known in market milk-caster, who was now dead, and therefore could not be called. But whether he was so tricked or deceived was no excuse for his clever and wholesale robbing of his employers. He had thought it necessary to put these fats, which would not be denied before the court, in order that it might be known how heavy the defocations really have been, and that they should be considered in dealing with the prisoner. The recorder asked if there was no possibility of recovering any part of the vast summon concerned. Mr. Stevens replied that they were informed that there was not the remotest chance. The money it was said by prisoner and those acting on his behalf had utterly vanished with the death of the man to whom he had just made reference. Mr. Doolittle on behalf of the prisoner craved to address a few words to the court in mitigation of sentence. He thanked Mr. Stevens for the considerate and eminently dispassionate manner in which he had outlined the main facts of the case. He had no desire to minimise the prisoner's guilt, but on prisoner's behalf, he desired to tell the true story as to how these things came to be. Until as recently as three years previously, the prisoner had never made the slightest deviation from the straight path of integrity. Unfortunately for him, and he believed for some others in Market Milcaster, there came to the town three years before the present proceedings. A man named Chamberlain who commenced business in the high street as a stock and share broker. A man of good business and the most plausible manners, Chamberlain attracted a good many people, amongst them his unfortunate client. It was a matter of common knowledge that Chamberlain had induced numerous persons in Market Milcaster to enter into financial transactions with him. It was a matter of common repute that those transactions had not always turned out well for Chamberlain's clients. And happily for himself, Maitland had great faith in Chamberlain. He had begun to have transactions with him in a large way. They had gone on and on until he was involved to vast amounts. Believing thoroughly in Chamberlain and his methods, he had entrusted him with very large sums of money. The recorder interrupted Mr. Doolittle at this point to ask if he was to understand that Mr. Doolittle was referring to the prisoner's own money. Mr. Doolittle replied that he was afraid the large sums he referred to were the property of the bank. But the prisoner had such belief in Chamberlain that he firmly anticipated that all would be well and that these sums would be repaid and that a vast profit would result from their use. The recorder remarked that he supposed the prisoner intended to put the profit into his own pocket. Mr. Doolittle said that at any rate, the prisoner assured him that of the £220,000 which was in question, Chamberlain had had the immediate handling of at least 200,000 and he, the prisoner, had not the ghost of a notion as to what Chamberlain had done with it. Unfortunately for everybody, for the bank, for some other people and especially for his unhappy client, Chamberlain died very suddenly, just as these proceedings were instituted and so far it had been absolutely impossible to trace anything of the money's concerned. He had died under mysterious circumstances and there was just as much mystery about his affairs. The recorder observed that he was still waiting to hear what Mr. Doolittle had to urge him mitigation of any sentence he, the recorder, might think fit to pass. Mr. Doolittle said that he would trouble the court with as few remarks as possible or that he could urge on behalf of the unfortunate man in the dock was that until three years ago he had born a most exemplary character and had never committed a dishonest action. It had been his misfortune, his folly to allow a plausible man to persuade him to these acts of dishonesty. That man had been called to another account and the prisoner was left to bear the consequences of his association with him. It seemed as if Chamberlain had made away with the money for his own purposes and it might be that it would yet be recovered. He would only ask the court to remember the prisoner's antecedents and his previous good conduct and to bear in mind that whatever his near future might be he was in a commercial sense ruined for life. The recorder in passing sentence said that he had not heard a single word of valid excuse for Maitland's conduct. Such dishonesty must be punished in the most severe fashion and the prisoner must go to penal servitude for ten years. Maitland, who heard the sentence unmoved, was removed from the town later in the day to the county jail at Saxchester. Spargo read all this swiftly, then went over it again, noting certain points. At last he folded up the newspaper and turned to the house to see old quarter-page beckoning to him from the library window. End of Chapter 18 Chapter 19 of the Middle Temple Murder by J. S. Fletcher This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 19 The Chamberlain's Story I perceived, sir, said Mr. Quarter-Page as Spargo entered the library, that you have read the account of the Maitland trial. Twice replied Spargo. And you have come to the conclusion that, at what conclusion have you come to? asked Mr. Quarter-Page, that the silver ticket in my purse was Maitland's property, said Spargo, who was not going to give all his conclusions at once. Just so, agreed the gentleman, I think so. I can't think anything else, but I was under the impression that I could have accounted for that ticket, just as I am sure I can account for the other forty-nine. Yes, and how? asked Spargo. Mr. Quarter-Page turned to a corner cupboard, and in silence produced a decanter, and two curiously shaped old wine-glasses. He carefully polished the glasses with a cloth, which he took from a drawer, and set glasses and decanter on a table in the window, motioning Spargo to take a chair in proximity there, too. He himself pulled up his own elbow-chair. We'll take a glass of my old brown sherry, he said. Though I say it as shouldn't, as the saying goes, I don't think you could find better brown sherry than that, from land's end, to barrack upon tweed, Mr. Spargo. No, nor further north, either, where they used to have good taste in liquor in my young days. Well, here's your good health, sir, and I'll tell you about Maitland. I'm curious, said Spargo, and about more than Maitland. I want to know about a lot of things arising out of that newspaper report. I want to know something about the man referred to so much, the stockbroker Chamberlain. Just so, observed Mr. Quarterpage smiling, I thought that would touch your sense of the inquisitive. But Maitland first. Now, when Maitland went to prison, he left behind him a child, a boy, just then, about two years old. The child's mother was dead. Her sister, Miss Bayless, appeared on the scene. Maitland had married his wife from a distance, and took possession of the child and of Maitland's personal effects. He had been made bankrupt while he was awaiting his trial, and all his household goods were sold. But this Miss Bayless took some small personal things, and I always believed that she took the silver ticket, and she may have done for anything I know to the contrary. Anyway, she took the child away, and there was an end of the Maitland family in Market Milcaster. Maitland, of course, was in due procedure of things removed to Dartmoor, and there he served his term. There were people who were very anxious to get hold of him when he came out, the bank people, for they believed he knew more about the disposition of that money than he'd ever told, and they wanted to induce him to tell what they hoped he knew. Between ourselves, Mr. Spargo, they were going to make it worth his while to tell. Spargo tapped the newspaper which he had retained while the old gentleman talked. Then they didn't believe what his counsel said, that Chamberlain got all the money, he asked. Mr. Quarterpage laughed. No, nor anybody else, he answered. There was a strong idea in the town, you'll see why afterwards, that it was all a put up job, and that Maitland cheerfully underwent his punishment, knowing that there was a nice fortune waiting for him when he came out. And as I say, that bank people meant to get hold of him. But though they sent a special agent to meet him on his release, they never did get hold of him. Some mistake arose. When Maitland was released, he got clear away. Nobody's ever heard a word of him from that day to this. Unless Miss Bayless has. Where does this Miss Bayless live? Asked Spargo. Well, I don't know, replied Mr. Quarterpage. She did live in Brighton when she took the child away and her address was known and a habit somewhere. But when the bank people sought her out after Maitland's release, she too had clean disappeared and all efforts to trace her failed. In fact, according to the folks who lived near her in Brighton, she'd completely disappeared with the child five years before. So there wasn't a clue to Maitland. He served his time, made a model prisoner. They did find that much out, earned the maximum remission, was released and vanished, and for that very reason there's a theory about him in his very town to this very day. What are Spargo? This, that he's now living comfortably, luxuriously abroad on what he got from the bank, replied Mr. Quarterpage. They say that the sister-in-law was in the game, that when she disappeared with the child she went abroad somewhere and made a home ready for Maitland and that he went off to them as soon as he came out. Do you see? I suppose that was possible, said Spargo. Quite possible, sir, but now continued the old gentleman replenishing the glasses. Now we come on to the Chamberlain story. It's a good deal more to do with the Maitland story than appears at first sight. I'll tell it to you and you can form your own conclusions. Chamberlain was a man who came to market Milcaster, I don't know from where, in 1886, five years before the Maitland smash-up. He was then about Maitland's age, a man of thirty-seven or eight. He came as clerk to old Mr. Vallas, the rope and twine manufacturer. Vallas' place is still there at the bottom of the high street near the river, though old Vallas is dead. He was a smart, cute pushing chap this Chamberlain. He made himself indispensable to old Vallas and old Vallas paid him a rare good salary. He settled down in the town and he married a town girl, one of the Corkindales, the Sadlers, when he'd been here three years. Unfortunately she died in childbirth within a year of their marriage. It is very soon after that that Chamberlain threw up his post at Vallas' and started business as a stock and share broker. He'd been a saving man. He'd got a nice bit of money with his wife. He always let it be known that he had money of his own and he started in a good way. He was a man of the most plausible manners. He'd have cooked butter out of a dog's throat if he'd wanted to. The moneyed men of the town believed in him. I believed in him myself, Mr. Spargo. I had many a transaction with him and I never lost all by him. On the contrary, he did very well for me. He did well for most of his clients. There were, of course, ups and downs, but on the whole he satisfied his clients uncommonly well. But, naturally, nobody ever knew what was going on between him and Maitland. I gather from this report, says Spargo, that everything came out suddenly, unexpectedly. That was so, sir, replied Mr. Quarterpage. Sudden? Unexpected? Ah, is a crack of thunder on a fine winter's day. Nobody had the ghost of a notion that anything was wrong. John Maitland was much respected in the town, much thought of by everybody, well known to everybody. I can assure you, Mr. Spargo, that it was no pleasant thing to have to sit on that grand jury as I did. I was foreman, sir, and hear a man's sentence that you'd regarded as a bosom friend. But there it was. How was the thing discovered, asked Spargo, anxious to get at facts? In this way, replied Mr. Quarterpage, the market milk has the bank is in reality almost entirely the property of two old families in the town, the Gutchbys and the Hostables. Though into the death of his father, a young Hostable, fresh from college, came into the business. He was a shrewd, keen young fellow. He got some suspicion somehow about Maitland and he insisted on the other partners consenting to a special investigation and on their making it suddenly. And Maitland was caught before he had a chance. But we're talking about Chamberlain. Yes, about Chamberlain, agreed Spargo. Well, now Maitland was arrested one evening, continued Mr. Quarterpage. Of course, the news of his arrest ran through the town like wildfire. Everybody was astonished. He was at that time, and had been for years, a church warden at the parish church. And I don't think there could have been more surprise if we heard that the vicar had been arrested for bigamy. In a little town like this news is all over the place in a few minutes. Of course Chamberlain would hear that news like everybody else. But it was remembered and often remarked upon afterwards that from the moment of Maitland's arrest nobody in Market Milcaster ever had speech with Chamberlain again. After his wife's death he'd taken to spending an hour or so of an evening across there at the dragon where you saw me and my friends last night. But on that night he didn't go to the dragon and next morning he caught the eight o'clock train to London. He happened to remark to the station master as he got into the train that he expected to be back late that night and that he should have a tiring day of it. But Chamberlain didn't come back that night Mr. Spargo. He didn't come back to Market Milcaster for four days. And when he did come back it was in a coffin. Dead? exclaimed Spargo. That was sudden. Very sudden. Agreed Mr. Quarterpage. Yes, he came back in his coffin did Chamberlain. On the very evening on which he'd spoken of being back there came a telegram here to say that he died very suddenly at the Cosmopolitan Hotel. That telegram came to his brother-in-law Corkindale the Saddler. You'll find him down the street opposite the town hall. It was sent to Corkindale by a nephew of Chamberlain's another Chamberlain, Stephen who lived in London and was understood to be on the stock exchange there. I saw that telegram Mr. Spargo and it was a long one. It said that Chamberlain had had a sudden seizure and though a doctor had been got to him he'd died shortly afterwards. Now as Chamberlain had his nephew and friends in London his brother-in-law Tom Corkindale didn't feel that there was any necessity for him to go up to town so he just sent off a wire to Stephen Chamberlain asking if there was ought he could do. And next morning came another wife from Stephen saying that no inquest would be necessary as the doctor had been present and able to certify the cause of death and would Corkindale make all arrangements for the funeral two days later. You see Chamberlain had bought a vault in our cemetery when he buried his wife so naturally they wished to bury him in it with her. Spargo nodded. He was beginning to imagine all sorts of things and theories. He was taking everything in. Well, continued Mr. Quarterpage on the second day after that they brought Chamberlain's body down. Three of them came with it. Stephen Chamberlain, the doctor who'd been called in and a solicitor. Everything was done according to proper form and usage. As Chamberlain had been well known in the town a good number of townsfolk met the body at the station and followed it to the cemetery. Of course many of us who had been clients of Chamberlain's were anxious to know how he had come to such a sudden end. According to Stephen Chamberlain's account our Chamberlain had wired to him and to his solicitor to meet him at the Cosmopolitan to do some business. They were awaiting him there when he arrived and they had lunch together. After that they got to their business in a private room. Towards the end of the afternoon Chamberlain was taken suddenly ill and though they got a doctor to him at once he died before evening. The doctor said he'd had a diseased heart. Anyhow he was able to certify the cause of his death so there was no inquest and they buried him as I have told you. The old gentleman paused and taking a sip at his sherry smiled at some reminiscence which occurred to him. Well he said presently going on of course on that came all the Maitland revelations and Maitland vowed and declared that Chamberlain had not only had nearly all the money but that he was absolutely certain that most of it was in his hands in hard cash but Chamberlain Mr Spargo had left practically nothing. All that could be traced was about three or four thousand pounds. He'd left everything to his nephew Stephen. There wasn't a trace, a clue to the vast summons with which Maitland had entrusted him and then people began to talk and they said what some of them say to this very day What's that? asked Spargo. Mr Quarterpage leaned forward and tapped his guest on the arm. That Chamberlain never did die and that the coffin was weighted with lead he answered. End of Chapter 19 Chapter 20 of the Middle Temple Murder by J. S. Fletcher This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 20 Maitland alias Marbury This remarkable declaration awoke such a new conception of Maitland's in Spargo's mind aroused such infinitely new possibilities in his imagination that for a full moment he sat silently staring at his informant who chuckled with quiet enjoyment at his visitor's surprise. Do you mean to tell me said Spargo at last that there are people in this town who still believe that the coffin in your cemetery which is said to contain Chamberlain's body contains lead? Lots of them my dear sir replied Mr Quarterpage lots of them go out in the street and ask the first six men you meet and I'll go bail but four out of the six believe it. Then why in the sacred name of common sense did no one ever take steps to make certain asked Spargo why didn't they get an order for exhumation because it was nobody's particular business to do so answered Mr Quarterpage you don't know country town life my dear sir in towns like Market Milkester folks talk and gossip a great deal but they're always slow to do anything it's the case of who will start first of initiative and if they see it's going to cost anything then they'll have nothing to do with it but the bank people suggested Spargo Mr Quarterpage shook his head there amongst the lot to believe that Chamberlain did die he said their very old fashioned conservative minded people the Gutchbees and the Hostables and they accepted the version of the nephew and the doctor and the solicitor but now I'll tell you something about those three there was a man here in the town a gentleman of your own profession who came to edit that paper you've got on your knee he got interested in this Chamberlain case and he began to make inquiries with the idea of getting hold of some good what do you call it I suppose he'd call it copy said Spargo copy that was his term agreed Mr Quarterpage while he took the trouble to go to London to ask some quiet questions of the nephew Stephen that was just 12 months after Chamberlain had been buried and he found that Stephen Chamberlain had left England months before gone they said to one of the colonies but they didn't know which and the solicitor had also gone and the doctor couldn't be chased no sir not even through the medical register what do you think of all that Mr Spargo I think answered Spargo that market millcaster folk are considerably slow I should have had that death and burial inquired into the whole thing looks to me like a conspiracy well sir it was as I say nobody's business said Mr Quarterpage the newspaper gentleman tried to stir up interest in it but it was no good and very soon afterwards he left and there it is Mr Quarterpage said Spargo what's your own honest opinion the old gentleman's smile ah he said I've often wondered Mr Spargo if I really have an opinion on that point I think what I probably feel about the whole affair is that there was a good deal of mystery attaching to it but we seem sir to have gone a long way from the question of that old silver ticket which you've got in your purse now no said Spargo interrupting his host with an accompanying wag of his finger no I think we're coming nearer to it now you've given me a great deal of your time Mr Quarterpage and told me a lot and first of all before I tell you a lot I'm going to show you something and Spargo took out of his pocketbook a carefully mounted photograph of John Marbury the original of the process picture which he had had made for the watchman he handed it over do you recognize that photograph as that of anybody you know he asked look at it well and closely Mr Quarterpage put on a special pair of spectacles and studied the photograph from several points of view no sir he said at last with a shake of the head I don't recognize it at all can't see in it any resemblance to any man you've ever known asked Spargo no sir none replied Mr Quarterpage none whatever very well said Spargo laying the photograph on the table between them now then I want you to tell me what John Maitland was like when you knew him also I want you to describe Chamberlain as he was when he died or was supposed to die you remember them of course quite well Mr Quarterpage got up and moved to the door and I could do better than that he said I can show you photographs of both men as they were just before Maitland's trial I have a photograph of a small group of market milk ester notabilities which was taken at a municipal garden party Maitland and Chamberlain are both in it it's been put away in a cabinet in my drawing room for many a long year and I've no doubt it's as fresh as when it was taken he left the room and presently returned with a large mounted photograph which he laid on the table before his visitor there you are sir he said quite fresh you see must be getting on to twenty years since that was taken out of the drawer that it's been kept in now that's Maitland and that's Chamberlain Spargo found himself looking at a group of men who stood against an ivy-covered wall in the stiff attitudes in which photographers arranged masses of sitters he fixed his attention on the two figures indicated by Mr Quarterpage and saw two medium-heighted rather sturdily built men about whom there was nothing very specially noticeable hmm he said musingly both bearded yes they both wore beards full beards assented Mr Quarterpage and you see they weren't so much alike but Maitland was a much darker man than Chamberlain and he had brown eyes while Chamberlain's were rather a bright blue the removal of a beard makes a great difference remarks Spargo he looked at the photograph of Maitland in the group comparing it with that of Marbury which he had taken from his pocket and 20 years makes a difference too he added musingly to some people 20 years makes a vast difference said the old gentleman to others it makes none I haven't changed much they tell me during the past 20 years but I've known men change age almost beyond recognition in five years it depends on what they go through Spargo suddenly laid aside the photographs put his hands in his pockets and looked steadfastly at Mr Quarterpage look here he said I'm going to tell you what I'm after Mr Quarterpage I'm sure you've heard all about what's known as the middle temple murder the Marbury case yes I've read of it replied Mr Quarterpage have you read the accounts of it in my paper the watchman asked Spargo Mr Quarterpage shook his head I've only read one newspaper sir since I was a young man he replied I take the time sir we always took it I even in the days when newspapers were tax very good said Spargo but perhaps I can tell you a little more than you've read but I've been working up that case ever since the body of the man known as John Marbury was found now if you'll just give me your attention I'll tell you the whole story from that moment until now and Spargo briefly succinctly retold the story of the Marbury case from the first instant of his own connection with it until the discovery of the silver ticket and Mr Quarterpage listened him wrapped attention nodding his head from time to time as the younger man made his points and now Mr Quarterpage concluded Spargo this is the point I've come to I believe that the man who came to the Anglo-Orient Hotel is John Marbury and who was undoubtedly murdered in Middletemple Lane that night was John Maitland I haven't a doubt about it after learning what you tell me about the silver ticket I found out a great deal that's valuable here and I think I'm getting nearer to a solution of the mystery that is of course to find out who murdered John Maitland or Marbury what you have told me about the Chamberlain Affair has led me to think that this there may have been people or a person in London who was anxious to get Marbury as we'll call him out of the way and who somehow encountered him that night anxious to silence him I mean because of the Chamberlain Affair and I wondered as there is so much mystery about him and as he won't give any account of himself if this man Elmore was really Chamberlain yes I wondered that but Elmore's a tall, finely built man quite six feet in height and his beard though it's now getting grizzled has been very dark and Chamberlain you say was a medium sized fair man with blue eyes that's so assented Mr Quarterpage yes a middling sized man and fair very fair dear me Mr Spargo this is a revelation and you really think sir that John Maitland and John Marbury are one and the same person I'm sure of it now said Spargo I see it this way Maitland on his release went out to Australia and there he stopped at last he comes back evidently well to do he's murdered the very day of his arrival Elmore is the only man who knows anything of him Elmore won't tell all he knows that's flat but Elmore's admitted that he knew him at some vague date say from 21 to 22 or 3 years ago now where did Elmore know him he says in London that's a vague term he won't say where he won't say anything definite he won't even say what he Elmore himself was in those days do you recollect anything of anybody like Elmore coming here to see Maitland Mr Quarterpage I don't answer Mr Quarterpage Maitland was a very quiet retiring fellow sir he was about to quiet his man in the town I never remember that he had visitors certainly I have no recollection of such a friend of his as this Elmore from your description of him would be at that time did Maitland go up to London much in those days Mr Quarterpage laughed well now to show you what a good memory I have I'll tell you of something that occurred across there at the Dragon only a few months before the Maitland affair came out there were some of us in there one evening and for a rare thing Maitland came in with Chamberlain Chamberlain happened to remark that he was going up to town next day he was always to and fro and we got to talking about London and Maitland said in course of conversation that he believed he was about the only man of his age in England and of course he meant of his class and means who'd never even seen London and I don't think he ever went there between that time and his trial in fact I'm sure he didn't for if he had I should have heard of it well that's queer remark Spargo it's very queer from certain Maitland and Marbury are one and the same person my theory about that old leather box is that Maitland had that carefully planted before his arrest that he dug it up when he came out of Dartmoor that he took it off to Australia with him that he brought it back with him and that of course the silver ticket and the photograph had been in it all these years now at that moment the door of the library was opened and a Parliament looked in at her master there's the boots from the dragon at the front door sir she said he's brought two telegrams across from there for Mr. Spargo thinking he might like to have them at once End of Chapter 20 Chapter 21 of the Middle Temple Murder by J. S. Fletcher this lipovox recording is in the public domain Chapter 21 Arrested Spargo hurried out to the hall two telegrams from the boots of the dragon and tearing open the envelopes read the messages hastily he went back to Mr. Quarterpage here's important news he said as he closed the library door and resumed his seat I'll read these telegrams to you sir and then we can discuss them in the light of what we've been talking about this morning the first is from our office I told you he sent over to Australia for a full report about Marbury at the place he said he hailed from Coulombidgee that reports just reached the watchman and they've wired it on to me it's from the chief of police at Coulombidgee to the editor of the watchman London John Marbury came to Coulombidgee in the winter of 1898 to 9 he was unaccompanied he appeared to be in possession of fairly considerable means and bought a share in a small sheep farm from its proprietor Andrew Robertson who is still here and who says that Marbury never told him anything about himself except that he had emigrated for health reasons and was a widower he mentioned that he had had a son who was dead and was now without relations he lived a very quiet, steady life on the sheep farm never leaving it for many years about six months ago however he paid a visit to Melbourne and on returning told Robertson that he had decided to return to England in consequence of some news he had received and must therefore sell his share in the farm Robertson bought it from him for three thousand pounds and Marbury shortly afterwards left for Melbourne from what we could gather Robertson thinks Marbury was probably in command of five or six thousand when he left Coulombidgee he told Robertson that he met a man in Melbourne who had given him news that surprised him but did not say what news he had in his possession when he left Robertson exactly the luggage he brought with him when he came a stout portmanteau and a small square leather box there are no effects of his left behind at Coulombidgee that's all said Spargo laying the first of the telegrams on the table and it seems to me to signify a good deal but now here's more startling news this is from Rathbury the Scott and Yard detective that I told you of Mr. Quarterpage he promised you know to keep me posted of what went on in my absence here's what he says fresh evidence tending to incriminate Elmore has come to hand authorities have decided to arrest him on suspicion you'd better hurry back if you want material for tomorrow's paper Spargo threw that telegram down too waited while the old gentleman glanced at both of them with evident curiosity and then jumped up well I shall have to go Mr. Quarterpage he said I looked the chains out this morning so as to be in readiness I can catch the 120 to Paddington that'll get me in before half past four I've an hour yet now there's another man I want to see in market Milcaster that's the photographer or a photographer you remember I told you of the photograph found with the silver ticket well and calculating that that photograph was taken here and I wanted to see the man who took it if he's alive and I can find him Mr. Quarterpage rose and put on his hat there's only one photographer in this town sir he said and he's been here for a good many years Cooper I'll take you to him it's only a few doors away Spargo wasted no time in letting the photographer know what he wanted he put a direct question to Mr. Cooper an elderly man do you remember taking a photograph of the child of John Maitland the bank manager some 20 or 21 years ago he asked after Mr. Quarterpage had introduced him as a gentleman from London who wanted to ask a few questions quite well sir replied Mr. Cooper as well as if it had been yesterday do you still happen to have a copy of it? asked Spargo but Mr. Cooper had already turned to a row of file albums he took down one labelled 1891 and began to search its pages in a minute or two he laid it on his table before his callers there you are sir he said that's the child Spargo gave one glance at the photograph and turned to Mr. Quarterpage just as I thought he said that's the same photograph we found in the leather box with the silver ticket I'm obliged to you Mr. Cooper now there's just one more question I want to ask you did you ever supply any further copies of this photograph to anybody after the Maitland affair that is after the family had left the town yes replied the photographer I supplied half a dozen copies to Miss Bayliss the child's aunt who as a matter of fact brought him here to be photographed and I can give you her address too he continued beginning to turn over another old file I have it somewhere Mr. Quarterpage nudged Spargo that's something I couldn't have done you remarked as I told you she disappeared from Brighton when inquiries were made after Maitland's release here you are said Mr. Cooper I sent six copies of that photograph to Miss Bayliss in April 1895 her address was then 6 Chichester Square Bayswater W Spargo rapidly wrote this address down thanked the photographer for his courtesy and went out with Mr. Quarterpage in the street he turned to the old gentleman with a smile well I don't think there's much doubt about that he exclaimed Maitland and Marbury are the same man Mr. Quarterpage I'm a certain of that as that I see your town hall there and what will you do next sir inquired Mr. Quarterpage thank you as I do for all your kindness and assistance and get off to town by this 120 replied Spargo and I shan't fail to let you know how things go on one moment said the old gentleman as Spargo was hurrying away do you think this Mr. Elmore really murdered Maitland no answered Spargo with emphasis I don't and I think we've got a good deal to do before we find out who did Spargo purposely let the Marbury case drop out of his mind during his journey to town he ate a hearty lunch in the train and talked with his neighbours it was a relief to let his mind and attention turn to something else than the theme which had occupied it unceasingly for so many days but at shredding the newspaper boys were shouting the news of the arrest of a member of parliament and Spargo glancing out of the window caught sight of a newspaper placard the Marbury murder case arrest of Mr. Elmore he snatched the paper from a boy as the train moved out and unfolding it found a mere announcement in the space reserved for stockpress news Mr. Stephen Elmore MP was arrested at two o'clock this afternoon on his way to the House of Commons on a charge of being concerned in the murder of John Marbury in Middletemple Lane on the night of June 21st last it is understood he will be brought up at Bow Street at ten o'clock tomorrow morning Spargo hurried to New Scotland Jard as soon as he reached Paddington he met Rathbury coming away from his room at sight of him the detective turned back well so there you are he said I suppose you've heard the news Spargo nodded as he dropped into a chair what led to it he asked abruptly there must have been something there was something he replied the thing stick bludgeon whatever you like to call it some foreign article with which Marbury was struck down was found last night well as Spargo it was proved to be Elmore's property answered Rathbury it was a South American curio that he had in his rooms in Fountain Court where was it found as Spargo Rathbury laughed he was a clumsy fellow who did it whether he was Elmore or whoever he was he replied do you know it had been dropped into a sewer trap in Middletemple Lane actually perhaps a merger thought it would be washed out into the Thames and float away but of course it was bound to come to light a sewer man found it yesterday evening and it was quickly recognised by the woman who cleans up for Elmore as having been in his rooms ever since she knew him what does Elmore say about it asked Spargo I suppose he said something said that the bludgeon is certainly his and that he brought it from South America with him announced Rathbury but that he doesn't remember seeing it in his rooms for some time and thinks that it was stolen from them hmm said Spargo amusingly but how do you know that was the thing that Marbury was struck down with Rathbury smiled grimly there's some of his hair on it mixed with blood he answered no doubt about that well anything come of your jaunt westward yes replied Spargo lots good asked Rathbury extra good I found out who Marbury really was no really no doubt to my mind I'm certain of it Rathbury sat down at his desk watching Spargo with raptor tension and who was he he asked John Maitland once of Market Milkaster replied Spargo ex-bank manager also ex-convict ex-convict ex-convict he was sentenced at Market Milkaster quarter sessions in autumn 1891 to ten years penal servitude for embezzling the bank's money to the tune of over two hundred thousand pounds served his term at Dartmoor went to Australia as soon or soon after he came out that's who Marbury was Maitland dead certain Rathbury still stared at his caller go on he said tell all about it Spargo let's hear every detail I'll tell you all I know after but what I know is nothing to that Spargo told him the whole story of his adventures at Market Milkaster and the detective listened with raptor tension yes he said at the end yes I don't think there's much doubt about that well that clears up a lot doesn't it Spargo yawned yes a whole slate full is wiped off there he said I haven't so much interest in Marbury or Maitland now my interest is all in Alemore Rathbury nodded yes he said the thing to find out is who is Alemore or who was he twenty years ago your people haven't found anything out then I'll Spargo nothing beyond the irreproachable history of Mr Alemore since he returned to this country a very rich man some ten years since answered Rathbury smiling they've no previous dates to go on what are you going to do next Spargo seek out that Miss Bayless replied Spargo you think you could get something there asked Rathbury look here said Spargo I don't believe for a second that Alemore killed Marbury I believe I should get at the truth by following up what I call the Maitland Trail this Miss Bayless must know something if she's alive well now I'm going to report at the office keep in touch with me Rathbury he went on then to the Watchman office and as he got out of his taxi cab at its store another cab came up and set down Mr Alemore's daughters End of Chapter 21 Chapter 22 The Middle Temple Murder by J. S. Fletcher this LibriVox recording is in the public domain Chapter 22 The Blank Past Jesse Alemore came forward to meet Spargo with ready confidence the elder girl hung back diffidently May we speak to you said Jesse we have come on purpose to speak to you Evelyn didn't want to come but I made her come Spargo shook hands silently with Evelyn Alemore and motioned them both to follow him he took them straight upstairs to his room and bestowed them in his easiest chairs before he addressed them I've only just got back to town he said abruptly I was sorry to hear the news about your father that's what's brought you here of course but I'm afraid I can't do much I told you that we had no right to trouble Mr Spargo Jesse said Evelyn Alemore what can he do to help us Jesse shook her head impatiently the watchman's about the most powerful paper in London isn't it she said and isn't Mr Spargo writing all these articles about the Marbury case Mr Spargo you must help us Spargo sat down at his desk and began turning over the letters and papers which had accumulated during his absence to be absolutely frank with you he said presently I don't see how anybody's going to help so long as your father keeps up that mystery about the past that said Evelyn quietly is exactly what Ronald says Jesse but we can't make our father speak Mr Spargo that he is as innocent as we are of this terrible crime we are certain and we don't know why he wouldn't answer the questions put to him at the inquest and we know no more than you know or anyone knows and though I have begged my father to speak he won't say a word we saw this danger Ronald, Mr Bretton told us and we implored him to tell everything he knew about Mr Marbury but so far he has simply laughed at the idea that he had anything to do with the murder or could be arrested for it and now and now he's locked up said Spargo in his usual matter of fact fashion well there are people who have to be saved from themselves you know perhaps you'll have to save your father from the consequences of his own shall we say obstinacy now look here between ourselves how much do you know about your father's past the two sisters looked at each other and then at Spargo nothing said the elder absolutely nothing said the younger answer a few plain questions said Spargo I'm not going to print your reply nor make use of them in any way I'm only asking the questions with a desire to help you have you any relations in England none that we know of replied Evelyn nobody you could go to for information about the past asked Spargo no nobody Spargo drummed his fingers on his blotting pad he was thinking hard how old is your father he asked suddenly he was 59 a few weeks ago answered Evelyn and how old are you and how old is your sister demanded Spargo I'm 20 and Jesse is nearly 19 where were you born both of us at San Gregorio which is in the San Jose province of Argentina north of Montevideo your father was in business there he was in business in the export trade Mr Spargo there's no secret about that he exported all sorts of things to England and to France skins, hides, wools, dried salts, fruit that's how he made his money you don't know how long he'd been there when you were born no was he married when he went out there no he wasn't we do know that he sold us the circumstances of his marriage because they were romantic when he sailed from England to Buenos Aires he met on the steamer a young lady who he said was like himself relationless and nearly friendless she was going out to Argentina as a governess she and my father fell in love with each other and they were married in Buenos Aires soon after the steamer arrived and your mother is dead my mother died before we came to England I was eight years old and Jesse six then and you came to England how long after that two years so that you've been in England ten years and you know nothing whatever of your father's past you've gone to what you've told me nothing absolutely nothing never heard him talk of you see according to your account your father was a man of getting on to 40 when he went out to Argentina he must have had a career of some thought in this country have you never heard him speak of his boyhood did he never talk of old times or that sort of thing I never remember hearing my father speak of any period antecedent to his marriage replied Evelyn I once asked him a question about his childhood said Jesse he answered that his early days had not been very happy ones and that he had done his best to forget them so I never asked him anything again so that it really comes to this remark Spargo you know nothing whatever about your father his family, his fortunes, his life beyond what you yourself have observed since you were able to observe that's about it isn't it I should say that that is exactly it answered Evelyn just so said Spargo and therefore as I told your sister the other day the public will say that your father has some dark secret behind him and that Marbury had possession of it and that your father killed him in order to silence him that isn't my view I not only believe your father to be absolutely innocent but I believe that he knows no more than a child unborn of Marbury's murder and I'm doing my best to find out who that murderer was by the by since you'll see all about it in tomorrow morning's watchman I may as well tell you that I found out who Marbury really was he at this moment Spargo's door was opened and in walked Ronald Bretton he shook his head at sight of the two sisters I thought I should find you here he said Jesse said she was coming to see you Spargo I don't know what good you can do I don't see what good the most powerful newspaper in the world can do my god everything's about as black as ever it can be Mr. Elmore I've just come away from him his solicitor Stratton and I have been with him for an hour is obstinate as ever tell more than he has told whatever good can you do Spargo when he won't speak about that knowledge of Marbury which he must have oh well said Spargo perhaps we can give him some information about Marbury Mr. Elmore has forgotten that it's not such a difficult thing to rake up the past as he seems to think it is for example as I was just telling these young ladies I myself have discovered who Marbury really was Breton started you have without doubt he exclaimed without reasonable doubt Marbury was an ex-convict Spargo watched the effect of this sudden announcement the two girls showed no sign of astonishment or of unusual curiosity they received the news with as much unconcern as if Spargo had told them that Marbury was a famous musician but Ronald Breton started and it seemed to Spargo that he saw a sense of suspicion dawn in his eyes Marbury an ex-convict he exclaimed you mean that read your watchman in the morning said Spargo you'll find the whole story there I'm going to write it tonight when you people have gone it'll make good reading Evelyn and Jesse Elmore took Spargo's hint and went away Spargo seeing them to the door with another assurance of his belief in their father's innocence and his determination to hunt down the real criminal Ronald Breton went down with them to the street and saw them into a cab but in another minute he was back in Spargo's room as Spargo had expected he shut the door carefully behind him and turned to Spargo with an eager face I say Spargo is that really so he asked about Marbury being an ex-convict that's so Breton I've no more doubt about it than I have that I see you Marbury was in reality one John Maitland a bank manager of Market Milcaster who got ten years penal servitude in 1891 for embezzlement in 1891 why that's just about the time that Elmore says he knew him exactly and it just strikes me said Spargo sitting down at his desk and making a hurried note it just strikes me didn't Elmore say he knew Marbury in London certainly reply Breton in London hmm you Spargo that's queer because Maitland had never been in London up to the time if he's going to Dartmoor whatever he may have done when he came out of Dartmoor and of course Elmore had gone to South America long before that look here Breton he continued aloud have you access to Elmore will you can you see him before he's brought up at Bow Street tomorrow yes answer Breton I can see him with his solicitor then listen says Spargo tomorrow morning you'll find the whole story of how I proved Marbury's identity with Maitland in the Watchman read it as early as you can get an interview with Elmore as early as you can make him read it every word before he's brought up beg him if he values his own safety and his daughter's peace of mind to throw away all that foolish reserve and to tell all he knows about Maitland twenty years ago he should have done that at first why I was asking his daughter some questions before you came in they know absolutely nothing of their father's history previous to the time when they began to understand things don't you see that Elmore's career previous to his return to England is a blank pass I know I know said Breton yes although I've gone there a great deal I never heard Elmore speak of anything earlier than his Argentine experiences and yet he must have been getting on when he went out there thirty seven or eight at least remarked Spargo well Elmore's more or less of a public man and no public man can keep his life hidden nowadays by the by how did you get to know the Elmores my guardian Mr. Elphick and I met them in Switzerland answer Breton we kept up the acquaintance after our return Mr. Elphick still interesting himself in the Marbury case asked Spargo very much so and so is old Cardelstone at the foot of whose stairs the thing came off I dined with them last night and they talked of little else said Breton and their theory oh still the murder for the sake of robbery reply Breton old Cardelstone is furious that such a thing could have happened at his very door he says that there ought to be a thorough inquiry into every tenant of the temple lawyer's business that observed Spargo well run away now Breton I must write show you be at Bow Street tomorrow morning asked Breton as he moved to the door it's to be at ten thirty no I shan't replied Spargo it'll only be a remand and I know already just as much as I should hear there I've got something much more important to do but you'll remember what I asked of you get Elmore to read my story in the Watchman and beg him to speak out and tell all he knows all and when Breton had gone Spargo again murmured those last words all he knows all end of chapter twenty-two chapter twenty-three of the Middle Temple murder by J. S. Fletcher this LibriVox recording is in the public domain chapter twenty-three Miss Bayless next day, a little before noon, Spargo found himself in one of those pretentious yet dismal basewater squares which are almost entirely given up to the trade, calling or occupation of the lodging and boarding housekeeper they are very pretentious those squares with their many storied houses their stuccoed frontages and their pilastered and balcony doorways innocent country folk coming into them from the neighbouring station of Paddington take them to be the residences of the dukes and earls who, of course, live nowhere else but in London they are further encouraged in this belief by the fact that young male persons in evening dress are often seen at the doorways in more or less elegant attitudes these, of course, are taken by the country folk to be the young lords enjoying the air of basewater but others, more knowing, are aware that they are Swiss or German waiters whose linen might be cleaner Spargo gauged the character of the house at which he called as soon as the door was opened to him there was the usual smell of eggs and bacon, a fish and chops the usual mixed and ancient collection of overcoats, wraps and sticks in the hall the usual sort of Parliament to answer the bell and presently in answer to his inquiries there was the usual type of landlady confronting him a more than middle-aged person who desired to look younger and made attempts in the way of false hair, teeth and a little rouge and who wore that somewhat air and smile in which its wearer under these circumstances always means that she is considering whether you will be able to cheat her or whether she will be able to see you you wish to see Miss Bayless, said this person, examining Spargo closely Miss Bayless does not often see anybody I hope, said Spargo politely, that Miss Bayless is not an invalid no, she's not an invalid, replied the landlady but she's not as young as she was and she's an objection to strangers is it anything I can tell her no, said Spargo, but you can, if you please, take her a message from me will you kindly give her my card and tell her that I wish to ask her a question about John Maitland of Market Milkaster and that I should be much obliged if she would give me a few minutes perhaps you will sit down, said the landlady she led Spargo into a room which opened out upon a garden in it two or three old ladies evidently inmates were sitting the landlady left Spargo to sit with them and to amuse himself by watching them knit or sew or read the papers and he wondered if they always did these things every day and if they would go on doing them until a day will come when they would do them no more and he was beginning to feel very dreary when the door opened and a woman entered whom Spargo, after one sharp glance at her decided to be a person who was undoubtedly out of the common and as she slowly walked across the room towards him he let his first glance lengthen into a look of steady inspection the woman whom Spargo thus narrowly inspected was a very remarkable appearance she was almost masculine she stood nearly six feet in height she was of a masculine gait and tread and spare, muscular and athletic what at once struck Spargo about her face was the strange contrast between her dark eyes and her white hair the hair worn in abundant coils round a well-shaped head was of the most snowy whiteness the eyes of a real coal blackness as were also the eyebrows above them the features were well cut and of a striking firmness the jaws square and determined and Spargo's first thought on taking all this in was that Miss Baylis seemed to have been fitted by nature to be a prison wardress or the matron of a hospital or the governess of an unruly girl and he began to wonder if he would ever manage to extract anything out of those firmly locked lips Miss Baylis on her part looked Spargo over as if she was half-minded to order him to instant execution and Spargo was so impressed by her that he made a profound bow and found a difficulty in finding his tongue Mr. Spargo, she said in a deep voice which seemed peculiarly suited to her of, I see, the watchman, you wish to speak to me Spargo again bowed in silence she signed him to the window near which they were standing open the casements if you please, she commanded him we will walk in the garden, this is not private Spargo obediently obeyed her orders she swept through the opened window and he followed her it was not until they had reached the bottom of the garden that she spoke again I understand that you desire to ask me some questions about John Maitland of Market Milcaster she said, before you put it I must ask you a question do you wish any reply I may give you for publication not without your permission replied Spargo I should not think of publishing anything you may tell me except with your express permission she looked at him gloomily, seemed to gather an impression of his good faith and nodded her head in that case she said, what do you want to ask I have lately had reason for making certain inquiries about John Maitland answered Spargo I suppose you read the newspapers and possibly the watchman, Miss Bayless but Miss Bayless shook her head I read no newspapers she said I have no interest in the affairs of the world I have work which occupies all my time I give my whole devotion to it then you have not recently heard of what is known as the Marbury case a case of a man who was found murdered, asked Spargo I have not, she answered I'm not likely to hear such things Spargo suddenly realised that the power of the press is not quite as great nor as far reaching as very young journalists hold it to be and that there actually are even in London people who can live quite cheerfully without a newspaper he concealed his astonishment and went on well he said I believe that the murdered man known to the police as John Marbury was in reality your brother-in-law John Maitland in fact Miss Bayless I'm absolutely certain of it he made this declaration with some emphasis and looked at his stern companion to see how she was impressed but Miss Bayless showed no sign of being impressed I can quite believe that Mr Spargo she said coldly it is no surprise to me that John Maitland should come to such an end he was a thoroughly bad and unprincipled man who brought the most terrible disgrace to those who were unfortunately connected with him he was likely to die a bad man's death I may ask you a few questions about him suggested Spargo in his most insinuating manner you may so long as you do not drag my name into the papers she replied but pray how do you know that I have the sad shame of being John Maitland's sister-in-law I found that out at Market Milcaster said Spargo the photographer told me Cooper ah she exclaimed the questions I want to ask are very simple said Spargo but your answers may materially help me you remember Maitland going to prison of course Miss Bayless laughed a laugh of scorn could I ever forget it she exclaimed did you ever visit him in prison asked Spargo visit him in prison she said indignantly visits in prison are to be paid to those who deserve them who are repentant not to scoundrels who are hardened in their sin alright did you ever see him after he left prison I saw him for he forced himself upon me I could not help myself he was in my presence before I was aware that he had even been released what did he come for asked Spargo to ask for his son who have been in my charge she replied that's the thing I want to know about said Spargo do you know what a certain lot of people in Market Milcaster say to this famous Bayless they say that you were in at the game with Maitland that you had a lot of the money placed in your charge that when Maitland went to prison you took the child away first of Brighton then abroad disappeared with him and that you made a home ready for Maitland when he came out that's what's said by some people in Market Milcaster Miss Bayless's stern lips curled people in Market Milcaster she exclaimed all the people I ever knew in Market Milcaster had about as many brains between them as that cat on the wall there nice for making a home for John Maitland I would have seen him die in the gutter of absolute want before I would have given him a crust of dry bread you appear to have a terrible dislike of this man observed Spargo astonished at her vehemence I had and I have she answered he tricked my sister into a marriage with him when he knew that she would rather have married an honest man who worshipped her he treated her with quiet infernal cruelty he robbed her and me of the small fortunes her father left us ah said Spargo well so you say Maitland came to you when he came out of prison to ask for his boy did he take the boy no the boy was dead dare day then I suppose Maitland did not stop long with you Miss Bayless laughed her scornful laugh I showed him the door she said well did he tell you that he was going to Australia inquired Spargo I should not have listened to anything that he told me Mr Spargo she answered then in short said Spargo you never heard of him again I never heard of him again she declared passionately and I only hope that what you tell me is true and that Marbury really was Maitland End of Chapter 23 Chapter 24 of the Middle Temple Murder by J. S. Fletcher this LibriVox recording is in the public domain Chapter 24 Mother Gutch Spargo having exhausted the list of questions which he had thought out on his way to Bayswater was about to take his leave of Miss Bayless when a new idea suddenly occurred to him and he turned back to that formidable lady I've just thought of something else he said I told you that I'm certain Marbury was Maitland and that he came to a sad end murdered and I've told you she replied scornfully that in my opinion no end could be too bad for him just so I understand you said Spargo but I didn't tell you that he was not only murdered but robbed of probably a good deal there's good reason to believe that he had securities banknotes loose diamonds and other things on him to the value of a large amount he'd several thousand pounds when he left Coulombitchie in New South Wales where he'd lived quietly for some years Miss Bayless smiled sourly what saw this to me she asked possibly nothing but you see that money those securities may be recovered and as the boy you speak of is dead there surely must be somebody who's entitled to the lot it's worth having Miss Bayless and their strong belief on the part of the police that it will turn up this was a bit of ingenious bluff on the part of Spargo he watched its effect with keen eyes but Miss Bayless was adamant and she looked as scornful as ever I say again what saw that to me she exclaimed well but hadn't the dead boy any relatives on his father's side ah Spargo I know you're his aunt on the mother's side and as you're indifferent perhaps I can find some on the other side and it's very easy to find all these things out you know Miss Bayless who had begun to stalk back to the house in gloomy and majestic fashion let Spargo see plainly that this part of the interview was distasteful to her suddenly paused in her stride and glared at the young journalist easy to find all these things out she repeated Spargo Court or Fancity Court a note of anxiety in her tone he was quick to turn his fancy to practical purpose oh easy enough he said I could find out all about Maitland's family through that boy quite, quite easily Miss Bayless had stopped now and stood glaring at him how? she demanded I'll tell you said Spargo with cheerful alacrity it is of course the easiest thing in the world to trace all about his short life I suppose I can find the register of his birth at Market Milcaster and you of course will tell me where he died by the by where did he die Miss Bayless but Miss Bayless was going on again to the house I shall tell you nothing more she said angrily I've told you too much already and I believe all you're here for is to get some news for your paper but I will at any rate tell you this when Maitland went to prison his child would have been defenceless but for me he'd have gone to the workhouse but for me he hadn't a single relation in the world but me on either father's or mother's side and even at my age, old woman as I am I'd rather beg my bread in the street I'd rather starve and die than touch a penny piece that had come from John Maitland that's all then without further word without offering to show Spargo the way out she marched in at the open window and disappeared and Spargo, knowing no other way was about to follow her when he heard a sudden rustling sound in the shadow by which they had stood and the next moment a queer, cracked, horrible voice suggesting all sorts of things said distinctly and yet in a whisper young man Spargo turned and stared at a privet hedge behind him it was thickened bushy and in its full summer green but it seemed to him that he saw a nondescript shape behind who's there? he demanded somebody listening there was a curious cackle of laughter from behind the hedge then the cracked husky voice spoke again young man, don't you move or look as if you were talking to anybody do you know where the King of Madagascar public house is in this quarter of the town, young man? no, answered Spargo, certainly not well, anybody will tell you when you get outside, young man continued the queer voice of the unseen person go there and wait at the corner by the King of Madagascar and I'll come there to you at the end of half an hour then I'll tell you something, young man I'll tell you something now, run away, young man run away to the King of Madagascar I'm coming the voice ended in low, horrible fascination which made Spargo feel queer but he was young enough to be in love with adventure and he immediately turned on his heel without so much as a glance at the private hedge and went across the garden and through the house and let himself out at the door and at the next corner of the square he met a policeman and asked him if he knew where the King of Madagascar was first to the right, second to the left answered the policeman tersely you can't miss it anywhere round there it's a landmark and Spargo found the landmark a great square built tavern easily and he waited at a corner of it wondering what he was going to see and intensely curious about the owner of the queer voice with all its suggestions of he knew not what and suddenly there came up to him an old woman and leered at him in a fashion that made him suddenly realise how dreadful old age may be Spargo had never seen such an old woman as this in his life she was dressed respectably, better than respectably her gown was good, her bonnet was smart her smaller fittings were good but her face was evil it showed unmistakable signs of a long devotion to the bottle the old eyes leered and ogled the old lips were wicked Spargo felt a sense of disgust almost amounting to nausea but he was going to hear what the old harridan had to say and he tried not to look what he felt well he said almost roughly well, well young man there you are said his new acquaintance let us go inside young man there's a quiet little place where a lady can sit and take her drop of gin I'll show you and if you're good to me I'll tell you something about that cat that you were talking to just now but you'll give me a little matter to put in my pocket young man old ladies like me have a right to buy little comforts you know little comforts Spargo followed this extraordinary person into a small parlor within the attendant who came in response to a ring showed no astonishment at her presence he also seemed to know exactly what she required which was a certain brand of gin, sweetened and warm and Spargo watched her curiously as with shaking hand she pushed up the veil which hid little of her wicked old face and lifted the glass to her mouth with a zest which was not thirst but pure greed of liquor almost instantly he saw a new light stealing to her eyes and she laughed in a voice that grew clearer with every sound she made ah young man she said with a confidential nudge of the elbow that made Spargo long to get up and fly I wanted that it's done me good when I finish that you'll pay for another for me and perhaps another they'll do me still more good and you'll give me a little matter of money won't you young man not till I know what I'm giving it for replied Spargo you'll be giving it because I'm going to tell you that if it's made worth my while I can tell you or somebody that sent you more about Jane Bayless than anybody in the world I'm not going to tell you that now young man I'm sure you don't carry in your pocket what I shall want for my secret not you by the look of you I'm only going to show you that I have the secret, eh? who are you? asked Spargo the woman leered and chuckled what are you going to give me young man? she asked Spargo put his fingers in his pocket and pulled out two half sovereigns look here he said showing his companion the coins if you can tell me anything of importance you shall have these but no trifling now and no wasting of time if you have anything to tell out with it the woman stretched out a trembling claw like hand let me hold one of those young man she implored let me hold one of those beautiful bits of gold I shall tell you all the better if I hold one of them let me there's a good young gentleman Spargo gave her one of the coins and resigned himself to his fate whatever it might be you won't get the other unless you tell something he said who are you anyway the woman who had begun mumbling and chuckling over the half sovereign grinned horribly at the boarding house yonder young man they called me Mother Gutch she answered but my proper name is Mrs Sabina Gutch and once upon a time I was a good looking young woman and when my husband died I went to Jane Bayless as housekeeper and when she retired from that and came to live in that boarding house where we live now she was forced to bring me with her and to keep me why had she to do that young man heaven knows answered Spargo because I've got to hold on her young man I've got a secret of hers continued Mother Gutch she'd be scared to death if she knew I'd been behind that hedge and had heard what she said to you and she'd be more than scared if she knew that you and I were here talking but she's grown hard and near with me and she won't give me a penny to get a drop of anything with and an old woman like me has a right to her little comforts and if you'll buy the secret young man I'll split on her there and then when you pay the money before I talk about buying any secrets said Spargo you'll have to prove to me that you've a secret to sell that's worth my buying and I will prove it said Mother Gutch with sudden fierceness touch the bell and let me have another glass and then I'll tell you now she went on more quietly Spargo noticed that the more she drank the more rational she became and that her nerves seemed to gain strength and her whole appearance to be improved now you came to her to find out about her brother-in-law Maitland that went to prison didn't you? well demanded Spargo and about that boy of his she continued you heard all that was said answered Spargo I'm waiting to hear what you have to say but Mother Gutch was resolute in having her own way she continued her questions and she told you that Maitland came and asked for the boy and that she told him the boy was dead didn't she? she went on well said Spargo despairingly she did what then? Mother Gutch took an appreciative pull at her glass and smiled knowingly what then? she chuckled oh lies young man the boy isn't dead any more than I am and my secret is well demanded Spargo impatiently what is it? this answered Mother Gutch digging her companion in the ribs I know what she did with him End of Chapter 24