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Updated: June 2, 2025
Ransford." "Claims, man!" retorted Ransford. "You've got no claims! What are you talking about? Claims!" "My pretensions, then," answered Bryce. "If there is a mystery as Wrychester people say there is about Miss Bewery, it would be safe with me. Whatever you may think, I'm a thoroughly dependable man when it's in my own interest." "And when it isn't?" asked Ransford.
He evidently made a fortune there; knocked about the world for awhile; changed his name to Folliot, and under that name married a wealthy widow, and settled down here in Wrychester to grow roses!
"Never saw him in my life before last night!" replied the tall man. "We just chanced to meet in the train coming down from London, got talking, and discovered we were both coming to the same place Wrychester. So we came to this house together. No no friend of mine not even an acquaintance previous, of course, to last night. Is is it anything serious?" "He's dead, sir," replied Mitchington.
It dropped like a leaden weight when Bryce released it, and he pushed back the man's face and looked searchingly into it. And in that instant he knew that for the second time within a fortnight he had found a dead man in Wrychester Paradise. There was no doubt whatever that the man was dead.
And soon after that I had a long illness, and for two or three years was an invalid, and well, the thing was over and done with, and, as I said just now, I have never heard anything of any of them for all these years. And now! now you tell me that there is a Mary Bewery who is a ward of a Dr. Mark Ransford at where did you say?" "At Wrychester," answered Bryce.
There was little that Bryce could say or could be asked to say at the inquest on the mason's labourer next morning. Public interest and excitement was as keen about Collishaw's mysterious death as about Braden's, for it was already rumoured through the town that if Braden had not met with his death when he came to Wrychester, Collishaw would still be alive.
But he had come, at last, and he had evidently tracked Ransford to Wrychester why, otherwise, had he presented himself at Ransford's door on that eventful morning which was to witness his death? Nothing, in Bryce's opinion, could be clearer. Brake had turned up. He and Ransford had met most likely in the precincts of the Cathedral.
'It'll be a bit of a holiday for me. 'That's all right, he said. 'I'm delighted I came across you. 'Well, you couldn't be more delighted than I was surprised, I said. 'I never thought to see you in Wrychester. What brought you here, if one may ask sight-seeing? He laughed at that, and he pulled out his purse again.
"What d'ye think of it?" Bryce turned and leisurely inspected one shelf after another. "Seems to consist of little else but criminal cases and legal handbooks," he remarked quietly. "I begin to suspect you, Mr. Harker. They say here in Wrychester that you're a retired tradesman. I think you're a retired policeman of the detective branch." Harker laughed again.
It seems they left England together after their time was up, emigrated together, prospered, even went so far both of 'em! as to make good the money they'd appropriated, and eventually came back together in possession of this secret. Brake came specially to Wrychester to tell the Duke Glassdale was to join him on the very morning Brake met his death.
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