Bat-Wing (33 page)

It was another perfect night, with only a faint tracery of cloud to be
seen like lingering smoke over on the western horizon. Everything
seemed very still, so that although we were several miles from the
railway line, when presently a train sped on its way one might have
supposed, from the apparent nearness of the sound, that the track was
no farther off than the grounds of Cray's Folly.

Toward those grounds, automatically, our glances were drawn; and we
stood there staring down at the ghostly map of the gardens, and all
wondering, no doubt, what Harley was doing and when he would be joining
us.

Very faintly I could hear the water of the little stream bubbling
beneath us. Then, just as this awkward silence was becoming
intolerable, there came a scraping and scratching from the shadows of
the gully, and:

"Give me a hand, Knox!" cried the voice of Harley from below. "I want
to avoid the barbed wire if possible."

He had come across country, and as I scrambled down the slope to meet
him I could not help wondering with what object he had sent us ahead by
the high road. Presently, when he came clambering up into the garden,
this in a measure was explained, for:

"You are all wondering," he began, rapidly, "what I am up to, no doubt.
Let me endeavour to make it clear. In order that my test should be
conclusive, and in no way influenced by pre-knowledge of certain
arrangements which I had made, I sent you on ahead of me. Not wishing
to waste time, I followed by the shorter route. And now, gentlemen,
let us begin."

"Good," muttered Inspector Aylesbury.

"But first of all," continued Harley, "I wish each one of you in turn
to look out of the window of the hut, and down into the Tudor garden of
Cray's Folly. Will you begin, Wessex?"

Wessex, taking his pipe out of his mouth, and staring hard at the
speaker, nodded, entered the hut, and kneeling on the wooden seat,
looked out of the window.

"Open the panes," said Harley, "so that you have a perfectly clear
view."

Wessex slid the panes open and stared intently down into the valley.

"Do you see anything unusual in the garden?"

"Nothing," he reported.

"And now, Inspector Aylesbury."

Inspector Aylesbury stamped noisily across the little hut, and peered
out, briefly.

"I can see the garden," he said.

"Can you see the sun-dial?"

"Quite clearly."

"Good. And now you, Knox."

I followed, filled with astonishment.

"Do you see the sun-dial?" asked Harley, again.

"Quite clearly."

"And beyond it?"

"Yes, I can see beyond it. I can even see its shadow lying like a black
band on the path."

"And you can see the yew trees?"

"Of course."

"But nothing else? Nothing unusual?"

"Nothing."

"Very well," said Harley, tersely. "And now, gentlemen, we take to the
rough ground, proceeding due east. Will you be good enough to follow?"

Walking around the hut he found an opening in the hedge, and scrambled
down into the place where rank grass grew and through which he and I on
a previous occasion had made our way to the high road. To-night,
however, he did not turn toward the high road, but proceeded along the
crest of the hill.

I followed him, excited by the novelty of the proceedings. Wessex, very
silent, came behind me, and Inspector Aylesbury, swearing under his
breath, waded through the long grass at the rear.

"Will you all turn your attention to the garden again, please?" cried
Harley.

We all paused, looking to the right.

"Anything unusual?"

We were agreed that there was not.

"Very well," said my friend. "You will kindly note that from this point
onward the formation of the ground prevents our obtaining any other
view of Cray's Folly or its gardens until we reach the path to the
valley, or turn on to the high road. From a point on the latter the
tower may be seen but that is all. The first part of my experiment is
concluded, gentlemen. We will now return."

Giving us no opportunity for comment, he plunged on in the direction of
the stream, and at a point which I regarded as unnecessarily difficult,
crossed it, to the great discomfiture of the heavy Inspector Aylesbury.
A few minutes later we found ourselves once more in the grounds of
Cray's Folly.

Harley, evidently with a definite objective in view, led the way up the
terraces, through the rhododendrons, and round the base of the tower.
He crossed to the sunken garden, and at the top of the steps paused.

"Be good enough to regard the sun-dial from this point," he directed.

Even as he spoke, I caught my breath, and I heard Aylesbury utter a
sort of gasping sound.

Beyond the sun-dial and slightly to the left of it, viewed from where
we stood, a faint, elfin light flickered, at a point apparently some
four or five feet above the ground!

"What's this?" muttered Wessex.

"Follow again, gentlemen," said Harley quietly.

He led the way down to the garden and along the path to the sun-dial.
This he passed, pausing immediately in front of the yew tree in which I
knew the bullet to be embedded.

He did not speak, but, extending his finger, pointed.

A piece of candle, some four inches long, was attached by means of a
nail to the bark of the tree, so that its flame burned immediately in
front of the bullet embedded there!

For perhaps ten seconds no one spoke; indeed I think no one moved.
Then:

"Good God!" murmured Wessex. "You have done some clever things to my
knowledge, Mr. Harley, but this crowns them all."

"Clever things!" said Inspector Aylesbury. "I think it's a lot of
damned tomfoolery."

"Do you, Inspector?" asked the Scotland Yard man, quietly. "I don't. I
think it has saved the life of an innocent man."

"What's that? What's that?" cried Aylesbury.

"This candle was burning here on the yew tree," explained Harley, "at
the time that you looked out of the window of the hut. You could not
see it. You could not see it from the crest adjoining the Guest House—
the only other spot in the neighbourhood from which this garden is
visible. Now, since the course of a bullet is more or less straight,
and since the nature of the murdered man's wound proves that it was not
deflected in any way, I submit that the one embedded in the yew tree
before you could not possibly have been fired from the Guest House! The
second part of my experiment, gentlemen, will be designed to prove from
whence it
was
fired."

Up to the very moment that Paul Harley, who had withdrawn, rejoined us
in the garden, Inspector Aylesbury had not grasped the significance of
that candle burning upon the yew tree. He continued to stare at it as
if hypnotized, and when my friend re-appeared, carrying a long ash
staff and a sheet of cardboard, I could have laughed to witness the
expression upon the Inspector's face, had I not been too deeply
impressed with that which underlay this strange business.

Wessex, on the other hand, was watching my friend eagerly, as an
earnest student in the class-room might watch a demonstration by some
celebrated lecturer.

"You will notice," said Paul Harley, "that I have had a number of
boards laid down upon the ground yonder, near the sun-dial. They cover
a spot where the turf has worn very thin. Now, this garden, because of
its sunken position, is naturally damp. Perhaps, Wessex, you would take
up these planks for me."

Inspector Wessex obeyed, and Harley, laying the ash stick and cardboard
upon the ground, directed the ray of an electric torch upon the spot
uncovered.

"The footprints of Colonel Menendez!" he explained. "Here he turned
from the tiled path. He advanced three paces in the direction of the
sun-dial, you observe, then stood still, facing we may suppose, since
this is the indication of the prints, in a southerly direction."

"Straight toward the Guest House," muttered Inspector Aylesbury.

"Roughly," corrected Harley. "He was fronting in that direction,
certainly, but his head may have been turned either to the right or to
the left. You observe from the great depth of the toe-marks that on
this spot he actually fell. Then, here"—he moved the light—"is the
impression of his knee, and here again—"

He shone the white ray upon a discoloured patch of grass, and then
returned the lamp to his pocket.

"I am going to make a hole in the turf," he continued, "directly
between these two footprints, which seem to indicate that the Colonel
was standing in the military position of attention at the moment that
he met his death."

With the end of the ash stick, which was pointed, he proceeded to do
this.

"Colonel Menendez," he went on, "stood rather over six feet in his
shoes. The stick which now stands upright in the turf measures six
feet, from the chalk mark up to which I have buried it to the slot
which I have cut in the top. Into this slot I now wedge my sheet of
cardboard."

As he placed the sheet of cardboard in the slot which he had indicated,
I saw that a round hole was cut in it some six inches in diameter. We
watched these proceedings in silence, then:

"If you will allow me to adjust the candle, gentlemen," said Harley,
"which has burned a little too low for my purpose, I shall proceed to
the second part of this experiment."

He walked up to the yew tree, and by means of bending the nail upward
he raised the flame of the candle level with the base of the embedded
bullet.

"By heavens!" cried Wessex, suddenly divining the object of these
proceedings, "Mr. Harley, this is genius!"

"Thank you, Wessex," Harley replied, quietly, but nevertheless he was
unable to hide his gratification. "You see my point?"

"Certainly."

"In ten minutes we shall know the truth."

"Oh, I see," muttered Inspector Aylesbury; "we shall know the truth,
eh? If you ask me the truth, it's this, that we are a set of lunatics."

"My dear Inspector Aylesbury," said Harley, good humouredly, "surely
you have grasped the lesson of experiment number one?"

"Well," admitted the other, "it's funny, certainly. I mean, it wants a
lot of explaining, but I can't say I'm convinced."

"That's a pity," murmured Wessex, "because I am."

"You see, Inspector," Harley continued, patiently, "the body of Colonel
Menendez as it lay formed a straight line between the sun-dial and the
hut in the garden of the Guest House. That is to say: a line drawn from
the window of the hut to the sun-dial must have passed through the
body. Very well. Such an imaginary line, if continued
beyond
the
sun-dial, would have terminated near the base of the
seventh yew
tree. Accordingly, I naturally looked for the
bullet
there. It
was not there. But I found it, as you know, in the ninth tree.
Therefore, the shot could not possibly have been fired from the Guest
House, because the spot in the ninth yew where the bullet had lodged is
not visible from the Guest House."

Inspector Aylesbury removed his cap and scratched his head vigorously.

"In order that we may avoid waste of valuable time," said Harley,
finally, "let us take a hasty observation from here. As a matter of
fact, I have done so already, as nearly as was possible, without
employing this rough apparatus."

He knelt down beside the yew tree, lowering his head so that the
candlelight shone upon the brown, eager face, and looked upward, over
the top of the sun-dial and through the hole in the cardboard.

"Yes," he muttered, a note of rising excitement in his voice. "As I
thought, as I thought. Come, gentlemen, let us hurry."

He walked rapidly out of the garden, and up the steps, whilst we
followed dumb with wonder—or such at any rate was the cause of my own
silence.

In the hall Pedro was standing, a bunch of keys in his hand, and
evidently expecting Harley.

"Will you take us by the shortest way to the tower stairs?" my friend
directed.

"Yes, sir."

Doubting, wondering, scarcely knowing whether to be fearful or
jubilant, I followed, along a carpeted corridor, and thence, a heavy,
oaken door being unlocked, across a dusty and deserted apartment
apparently intended for a drawing room. From this, through a second
doorway we were led into a small, square, unfurnished room, which I
knew must be situated in the base of the tower. Yet a third door was
unlocked, and:

"Here is the stair, sir," said Pedro.

In Indian file we mounted to the first floor, to find ourselves in a
second, identical room, also stripped of furniture and decorations.
Harley barely glanced out of the northern window, shook his head, and:

"Next floor, Pedro," he directed.

Up we went, our footsteps arousing a cloud of dust from the uncarpeted
stairs, and the sound of our movements echoing in hollow fashion around
the deserted rooms.

Gaining the next floor, Harley, unable any longer to conceal his
excitement, ran to the north window, looked out, and:

"Gentlemen," he said, "my experiment is complete!"

He turned, his back to the window, and faced us in the dusk of the
room.

"Assuming the ash stick to represent the upright body of Colonel
Menendez," he continued, "and the sheet of cardboard to represent his
head, the hole which I have cut in it corresponds fairly nearly to the
position of his forehead. Further assuming the bullet to have
illustrated Euclid's definition of a straight line, such a line,
followed back
from the yew tree to the spot where the rifle
rested, would pass through the hole in the cardboard! In other words,
there is only one place from which it is possible to see the flame of
the candle
through the hole in the cardboard
: the place where
the rifle rested! Stand here in the left-hand angle of the window and
stoop down! Will you come first, Knox?"