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Updated: May 14, 2025
Presently the warder went outside, and John Lexman had an opportunity of examining his fellow sufferer. He was a man of twenty-four or twenty-five, lithe and alert. By no means bad looking, he lacked that indefinable suggestion of animalism which distinguished the majority of the inhabitants at Dartmoor.
"Why obvious?" asked the Chief Commissioner. "Because," answered T. X. Meredith, "the real Gathercole had lost his right arm that was the one error Lexman made." "H'm," the Chief pulled at his moustache and looked enquiringly round the room, "we have to make up our minds very quickly about Lexman," he said. "What do you think, Carlneau?" The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders.
"And that is why you didn't want me to know where you were living?" She nodded again. "You see she was very ill," she said, "and I had to nurse her up, and of course I knew that it was Lexman who had killed Kara and I couldn't tell you about Grace Lexman without betraying him. So when Mr. Lexman decided to tell his story, I thought I'd better supply the grand denouement."
"At the end of that time I shall go to the court for relief." "Do you think they will ever turn up?" asked the solicitor, an elderly and unimaginative man. "Of course, they'll turn up!" said T. X. impatiently; "all the heroes of Lexman's books turn up sooner or later. He will discover himself to us at a suitable moment, and we shall be properly thrilled." That Lexman would return he was sure.
"Even if I found who the third person was, I am still puzzled as to how they got out and fastened the heavy latch behind them. Now in the old days, Lexman," he said good humouredly, "you would have made a fine mystery story out of this. How would you have made your man escape?" Lexman thought for a while. "Have you examined the safe!" he asked. "Yes," said the other. "Was there very much in it?"
It was a moot question amongst the departmental lawyers as to whether John Lexman was not guilty of a technical and punishable offence for prison breaking, but this possibility did not keep T. X. awake at nights. The circumstances of the escape had been carefully examined.
There was no reply, only the continuous buzzing, and when he hung up the receiver again, the bell continued ringing. The three policemen looked at one another. "There's trouble there," said Mansus. "Take off the receiver," said T. X., "and try again." Mansus obeyed, but there was no response. "I am afraid this is not my affair," said John Lexman gathering up his coat.
"In the possession of most of you are the vital facts concerning this man. You know the type of man he was, you have instances of his terrible ruthlessness, you know that he was a blot upon God's earth, a vicious wicked ego, seeking the gratification of that strange blood-lust and pain-lust, which is to be found in so few criminals." John Lexman went on to describe the killing of Vassalaro.
He had interviewed the Greek once after his return, but since all his efforts to secure information concerning the whereabouts of John Lexman and his wife the main reason for his visit had been in vain, he had not repeated his visit. The house in Cadogan Square was a large one, occupying a corner site.
But a disappointment awaited. Mrs. Lexman was not in and neither the ringing at her electric bell nor vigorous applications to the knocker brought any response. The hall porter of the flats where she lived was under the impression that Mrs. Lexman had gone out of town. She frequently went out on Saturdays and returned on the Monday and, he thought, occasionally on Tuesdays.
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