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Page 79
Paul Harley took out his pipe and began to load it in a deliberate and
lazy manner.
Inspector Aylesbury turned his prominent eyes in my direction.
CHAPTER XIX
COMPLICATIONS
"I am afraid of this man Aylesbury," said Paul Harley. We sat in the
deserted dining room. I had contributed my account of the evening's
happenings, Dr. Rolleston had made his report, and Inspector Aylesbury
was now examining the servants in the library. Harley and I had
obtained his official permission to withdraw, and the physician was
visiting Madame de St�mer, who lay in a state of utter prostration.
"What do you mean, Harley?"
"I mean that he will presently make some tragic blunder. Good God,
Knox, to think that this man had sought my aid, and that I stood by
idly whilst he walked out to his death. I shall never forgive myself."
He banged the table with his fist. "Even now that these unknown fiends
have achieved their object, I am helpless, helpless. There was not a
wisp of smoke to guide me, Knox, and one man cannot search a county."
I sighed wearily.
"Do you know, Harley," I said, "I am thinking of a verse of Kipling's."
"I know!" he interrupted, almost savagely.
"A Snider squibbed in the jungle.
Somebody laughed and fled--"
"Oh, I know, Knox. I heard that damnable laughter, too."
"My God," I whispered, "who was it? What was it? Where did it come
from?"
"As well ask where the shot came from, Knox. Out amongst all those
trees, with a house that might have been built for a sounding-board,
who could presume to say where either came from? One thing we know,
that the shot came from the south."
He leaned upon a corner of the table, staring at me intently.
"From the south?" I echoed.
Harley glanced in the direction of the open door.
"Presently," he said, "we shall have to tell Aylesbury everything that
we know. After all, he represents the law; but unless we can get
Inspector Wessex down from Scotland Yard, I foresee a miscarriage of
justice. Colonel Menendez lay on his face, and the line made by his
recumbent body pointed almost directly toward--"
I nodded, watching him.
"I know, Harley--toward the Guest House."
Paul Harley inclined his head, grimly.
"The first light which we saw," he continued, "was in a window of the
Guest House. It may have had no significance. Awakened by the sound of
a rifle-shot near by, any one would naturally get up."
"And having decided to come downstairs and investigate," I continued,
"would naturally light a lamp."
"Quite so." He stared at me very hard. "Yet," he said, "unless Mr.
Colin Camber can produce an alibi I foresee a very stormy time for
him."
"So do I, Harley. A deadly hatred existed between these two men, and
probably this horrible deed was done on the spur of the moment. It is
of his poor little girl-wife that I am thinking. As though her troubles
were not heavy enough already."
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