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Updated: June 16, 2025
The room was a big one and most of the furniture had been cleared out to admit the guests who had come from the ends of the earth to learn the story of the twisted candles, and to test John Lexman's theory by their own. They sat around chatting cheerfully of men and crimes, of great coups planned and frustrated, of strange deeds committed and undetected.
He lifted the drawer carefully and placed it under the light. In the bottom was no more than a few crumpled white ashes and a blister of paint where the flame had caught the side. "I see," said T. X. slowly. He saw something more than that handful of ashes, he saw the deadly peril in which his friend was standing. Here was one half of the evidence in Lexman's favour gone, irredeemably.
"His mother ill," said T. X. contemptuously, "how very feeble, I should have thought Kara could have gone one better than that." He was in John Lexman's study as the door opened and the maid announced, "Mr. Remington Kara." T. X. folded the telegram very carefully and slipped it into his waistcoat pocket.
The Priory drawing-room was a low-ceilinged, rambling apartment, "all old print and chrysanthemums," to use Lexman's description. Cosy armchairs, a grand piano, an almost medieval open grate, faced with dull-green tiles, a well-worn but cheerful carpet and two big silver candelabras were the principal features which attracted the newcomer.
It had not embarrassed him to discover that he was an executor under Lexman's will, for he had already acted as trustee to the wife's small estate, and had been one of the parties to the ante-nuptial contract which John Lexman had made before his marriage. The estate revenues had increased very considerably.
"I wish you good luck," he said, and took both Grace Lexman's hands in his. "One of these days," he said paternally, "I shall come down to Beston Tracey and your husband shall tell me another and a happier story." He paused at the door as he was going out and looking back caught the grateful eyes of Lexman. "By the way, Mr.
It is, I might say, a remarkable piece of reconstruction," he spoke very deliberately, and swept away John Lexman's astonished interruption with a stern hand, "please wait and do not speak until I am out of hearing," he growled. "You have got into the skin of the actual assassin and have spoken most convincingly.
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