|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 21
This theory produced a moment's silence--broken at last by
Sackville Bonham.
"Varner says he saw--saw!--a man's hand, a gentleman's hand,"
insisted Sackville. "He saw a white shirt cuff, a bit of the
sleeve of a coat. You're not going to get over that, you
know. He's certain of it!"
"Varner may be as certain of it as he likes," answered
Archdale, almost indifferently, "and still he may be mistaken.
The probability is that Varner was confused by what he saw.
He may have had a white shirt cuff and the sleeve of a black
coat impressed upon him, as in a flash--and they were probably
those of the man who was killed. If, as I suggest, the man
slipped, and was shot out of that open doorway, he would
execute some violent and curious movements in the effort to
save himself in which his arms would play an important part.
For one thing, he would certainly throw out an arm--to clutch
at anything. That's what Varner most probably saw. There's
no evidence whatever that the man was flung down."
Bryce turned away from the group of talkers to think over
Archdale's suggestion. If that suggestion had a basis of
fact, it destroyed his own theory that Ransford was
responsible for the stranger's death. In that case, what was
the reason of Ransford's unmistakable agitation on leaving the
west porch, and of his attack--equally unmistakable--of nerves
in the surgery? But what Archdale had said made him
inquisitive, and after he had treated himself--in celebration
of his freedom--to an unusually good lunch at the Club, he
went round to the Cathedral to make a personal inspection of
the gallery in the clerestory.
There was a stairway to that gallery in the corner of the
south transept, and Bryce made straight for it--only to find a
policeman there, who pointed to a placard on the turret door.
"Closed, doctor--by order of the Dean and Chapter," he
announced. "Till further orders. The fact was, sir," he went
on confidentially, "after the news got out, so many people
came crowding in here and; up to that gallery that the Dean
ordered all the entrances to be shut up at once--nobody's been
allowed up since noon."
"I suppose you haven't heard anything of any strange person
being seen lurking about up there this morning?" asked Bryce.
"No, sir. But I've had a bit of a talk with some of the
vergers," replied the policeman, "and they say it's a most
extraordinary thing that none of them ever saw this strange
gentleman go up there, nor even heard any scuffle. They
say--the vergers--that they were all about at the time,
getting ready for the morning service, and they neither saw
nor heard. Odd, air, ain't it?"
"The whole thing's odd," agreed Bryce, and left the Cathedral.
He walked round to the wicket gate which admitted to that side
of Paradise--to find another policeman posted there. "What!
--is this closed, too?" he asked.
"And time, sir," said the man. "They'd ha' broken down all
the shrubs in the place if orders hadn't been given! They
were mad to see where the gentleman fell--came in crowds at
dinnertime."
Bryce nodded, and was turning away, when Dick Bewery came
round a corner from the Deanery Walk, evidently keenly
excited. With him was a girl of about his own age--a certain
characterful young lady whom Bryce knew as Betty Campany,
daughter of the librarian to the Dean and Chapter and
therefore custodian of one of the most famous cathedral
libraries in the country. She, too, was apparently brimming
with excitement, and her pretty and vivacious face puckered
itself into a frown as the policeman smiled and shook his
head.
"Oh, I say, what's that for?" exclaimed Dick Bewery. "Shut
up?--what a lot of rot! I say!--can't you let us go in--just
for a minute?"
"Not for a pension, sir!" answered the policeman
good-naturedly. "Don't you see the notice? The Dean 'ud
have me out of the force by tomorrow if I disobeyed orders.
No admittance, nowhere, nohow! But lor' bless yer!" he
added, glancing at the two young people. "There's nothing to
see--nothing!--as Dr. Bryce there can tell you."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|