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Updated: May 23, 2025
Myerst here to go with me just now to take the first steps about having it opened. I shall have to get an order. We may get the matter through today, but at any rate we'll have it done tomorrow morning." "Can you arrange for me to be present when that comes off?" asked Spargo. "You can certain? That's all right, Rathbury.
"After evidence like that!" he exclaimed. "Why, of course. There's the motive, my son, the motive!" Spargo laughed. "Rathbury!" he said. "Aylmore no more murdered Marbury than you did!" The detective got up and put on his hat. "Oh!" he said. "Perhaps you know who did, then?" "I shall know in a few days," answered Spargo. Rathbury stared wonderingly at him. Then he suddenly walked to the door.
Spargo, half-breathless, dropped into his desk-chair. "You didn't come here to tell me that," he said. Rathbury laughed. "No," he said, throwing the newspaper aside, "I didn't. I came to tell you my latest. You're at full liberty to stick it into your paper tonight: it may just as well be known." "Well?" said Spargo. Rathbury took his cigar out of his lips and yawned.
The landlady, hearing their names and description, pointed to a side door, and signed Rathbury and his companions to pass through. Obeying her pointed finger, they found themselves in a small private parlour. Walters closed the two doors which led into it and looked at his principal visitor. "What is it, Mr. Rathbury?" he enquired. "Anything wrong?"
First walked the chairman, abreast with the high official, who had brought the necessary authorization from the all-powerful quarter; then came Myerst carrying the box: followed two other gentlemen, both legal lights, charged with watching official and police interests; Rathbury and Spargo brought up the rear.
But he was watching the young barrister's face. And Breton turned to the detective with a look of surprise. "Oh!" he said. "You wish " Rathbury had been fumbling in his pocket for the scrap of grey paper, which he had carefully bestowed in a much-worn memorandum-book. "I wished to ask a question, Mr. Breton," he said.
"I'm not going to start my writing as you call it, until after I've dined at seven o'clock and given myself time to digest my modest dinner," answered Spargo. "What is it?" "Come back with me and have another look at that blessed leather box," said Rathbury. "I've got it in my room, and I'd like to examine it for myself. Come on!" "The thing's empty," said Spargo.
The cap which the dead man was wearing was bought at Fiskie's yesterday afternoon, and it was sent to Mr. Marbury, Room 20, at the Anglo-Orient Hotel." "Where is that?" asked Spargo. "Waterloo district," answered Rathbury. "A small house, I believe. Well, I'm going there. Are you coming?" "Yes," replied Spargo. "Of course. And Mr. Breton wants to come, too." "If I'm not in the way," said Breton.
Spargo made no answer. They entered the office, to be shown into a room where were already assembled Mr. Myerst, a gentleman who turned out to be the chairman of the company, and the officials of whom Rathbury had spoken.
"What d'ye think of today's doings, Spargo?" he asked, as he proceeded to unlock a cupboard. "I think," said Spargo, "that some of you fellows must have had your ears set to tingling." "That's so," assented Rathbury. "Of course, the next thing'll be to find out all about the Mr. Aylmore of twenty years since.
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