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Page 82
"It's what I particularly wish for," observed Jettison
quietly. "The very thing!"
"Then, it's this," said Bryce. "Ransford was the close friend
who tricked and deceived Brake:
"He probably tricked him in some money affair, and deceived him
in his domestic affairs. I take it that Ransford ran away
with Brake's wife, and that Brake, sooner than air all his
grievance to the world, took it silently and began to concoct
his ideas of revenge. I put the whole thing this way.
Ransford ran away with Mrs. Brake and the two children--mere
infants--and disappeared. Brake, when he came out of prison,
went abroad--possibly with the idea of tracking them.
Meanwhile, as is quite evident, he engaged in business and did
well. He came back to England as John Braden, and, for the
reason of which you're aware, he paid a visit to Wrychester,
utterly unaware that any one known to him lived here. Now,
try to reconstruct what happened. He looks round the Close
that morning. He sees the name of Dr. Mark Ransford on the
brass plate of a surgery door. He goes to the surgery, asks a
question, makes a remark, goes away. What is the probable
sequence of events? He meets Ransford near the Cathedral
--where Ransford certainly was. They recognize each other
--most likely they turn aside, go up to that gallery as a
quiet place, to talk--there is an altercation--blows--somehow
or other, probably from accident, Braden is thrown through
that open doorway, to his death. And--Collishaw saw what
happened!"
Bryce was watching his listeners, turning alternately from one
to the other. But it needed little attention on his part to
see that theirs was already closely strained; each man was
eagerly taking in all that he said and suggested. And he went
on emphasizing every point as he made it.
"Collishaw saw what happened?" he repeated. "That, of course,
is theory--supposition. But now we pass from theory back to
actual fact. I'll tell you something now, Mitchington, which
you've never heard of, I'm certain. I made it in my way,
after Collishaw's death, to get some information, secretly,
from his widow, who's a fairly shrewd, intelligent woman for
her class. Now, the widow, in looking over her husband's
effects, in a certain drawer in which he kept various personal
matters, came across the deposit book of a Friendly Society of
which Collishaw had been a member for some years. It appears
that he, Collishaw, was something of a saving man, and every
year he managed to put by a bit of money out of his wages, and
twice or thrice in the year he took these savings--never very
much; merely a pound or two--to this Friendly Society, which,
it seems, takes deposits in that way from its members. Now,
in this book is an entry--I saw it--which shows that only two
days before his death, Collishaw paid fifty pounds--fifty
pounds, mark you!--into the Friendly Society. Where should
Collishaw get fifty pounds, all of a sudden! He was a mason's
labourer, earning at the very outside twenty-six or eight
shillings a week. According to his wife, there was no one to
leave him a legacy. She never heard of his receipt of this
money from any source. But--there's the fact! What explains
it? My theory--that the rumour that Collishaw, with a pint
too much ale in him, had hinted that he could say something
about Braden's death if he chose, had reached Braden's
assailant; that he had made it his business to see Collishaw
and had paid him that fifty pounds as hush-money--and, later,
had decided to rid himself of Collishaw altogether, as he
undoubtedly did, by poison."
Once more Bryce paused--and once more the two listeners showed
their attention by complete silence.
"Now we come to the question--how was Collishaw poisoned?"
continued Bryce. "For poisoned he was, without doubt. Here
we go back to theory and supposition once more. I haven't the
least doubt that the hydrocyanic acid which caused his death
was taken by him in a pill--a pill that was in that box which
they found on him, Mitchington, and showed me. But that
particular pill, though precisely similar in appearance, could
not be made up of the same ingredients which were in the other
pills. It was probably a thickly coated pill which contained
the poison;--in solution of course. The coating would melt
almost as soon as the man had swallowed it--and death would
result instantaneously. Collishaw, you may say, was condemned
to death when he put that box of pills in his waistcoat
pocket. It was mere chance, mere luck, as to when the exact
moment of death came to him. There had been six pills in that
box--there were five left. So Collishaw picked out the
poisoned pill--first! It might have been delayed till the
sixth dose, you see--but he was doomed."
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