Chapter I: Charles Jex

Inspector Morgan and I were sitting over the fire one particularly cheerless winter night at my lodgings in Duke Street. The Inspector had brought with him a thick bundle of documents. He threw them on the table between us as he came in. As usual, our talk had fallen upon the art, or science of crime detection.

"Do you remember," asked Morgan, "my once saying that the first thing a clever criminal does is to try his best to block the way of the man who has to follow up the track of his crime?"

"I shall do that myself," said I, "if I ever commit a serious crime."

"Of course you would, so should I, and so, I suppose, would any man with his senses about him. Well, that is just what a man coming green to detective work is apt to forget. I came near to forgetting it myself when they sent me down to Jex Farm to inquire about the murder there. You must remember the case, for it made a great stir at the time."

"I hope you are going to tell me all about it, Morgan. One does not carry these things in one's head. One big crime gets mixed up with another."

"I came here meaning to tell you the whole story," said the Inspector, taking hold of the bundle of papers and untying the knots of red tape which bound them together.

"Are these documents in the case?" I asked.

"Plans and reports, and cuttings from newspapers, but I am only going to ask you to look at some of them."

"If I am not mistaken, Morgan, the papers spoke very handsomely of your conduct of the Jex Farm case."

"They did, but they had little reason to. If they had known all the facts as well as you will presently know them, they might have handled me differently. It is wonderful what the papers do get to know, but, naturally, they can't see things from the inside as we can."

"Well, Morgan, get to the story. I want to hear it."

"There is not much of a story to tell, so far as the outside facts were concerned. It is only the inside working of things that made it interesting. A young girl had been found lying at the orchard gate of the farm, 37½ yards from the house, dead, with three pistol bullets in her head. Suicide was out of the question, the three wounds and the three bullets precluded that, and there was no pistol about. Moreover, it was not in evidence that the girl had any cause for despondency. There was no reason for her taking her life. But then, again, she was not known to have an enemy."

The Inspector took out a newspaper from the bundle of documents, docketed _Jex Murder Case_, and handed it to me. I read as follows:

"MURDER IN SURREY.--Jex Farm, one mile from the village of Bexton, in Surrey, was the scene of a terrible and mysterious crime, on the evening of Wednesday last. A young unmarried lady of the name of Judson, a niece of Mrs. Jex, the widowed owner of Jex Farm, was found murdered, late on Wednesday night, just inside the orchard gate of the farm, and within a stone's throw of the house. There were no signs of a struggle, but Miss Judson's gold watch and chain were missing. The crime must have been committed at late dusk on Wednesday evening, 17th inst. (October). It is singular that no sound of firearms was heard by any inmate of the house; and the crime was not discovered till the family were about to meet at supper, when Miss Judson's absence was noticed.

"After waiting a while and calling the name of the young lady in vain, the night being very dark and gusty, young Mr. Jex and the farm-laborers started out with lanterns. They almost immediately came upon the dead body of the unfortunate young lady, which was lying on the walk just inside the orchard gate, and it is stated that the first discoverer of the tragedy was Mr. Jex himself. It adds one more element of gloom to the fearful event when we add that it is rumored in the neighborhood that Mr. Jex, the only son of the lady who owns the farm, was engaged to be married to the victim of this terrible tragedy.

"No clue has yet been obtained. It is clear that the motive of the crime was robbery--the young lady's valuable gold watch and chain were missing--and it is supposed in the neighborhood that, as the high road runs within twenty yards of the scene of the tragedy, the perpetrator may have been one of a very rough set of bicyclists who were drinking at the Red Lion at Bexton in the afternoon, and who were seen, at nightfall, to retrace their journey in the direction of Jex Farm. We understand that Inspector Morgan, the well-known London detective, has been despatched from Scotland Yard to the scene of the murder. Inspector Morgan is the officer whose name has recently attained considerable prominence in connection with the discovery and conviction of the perpetrator of the great jewel robbery at Balin Abbey."

"Rather penny-a-lining and wordy," observed Mr. Morgan as I finished reading the paragraph aloud, "but barring the too-flattering allusion to myself, on the whole, a fair enough account of the facts.

"I found that it was young Mr. Jex himself who supplied the information about the bicyclists. He had been shooting rabbits at an outlying farm of his own a couple of miles beyond Bexton, and, stopping to get a glass of beer at the chief inn there, found himself surrounded in the bar by a group of rowdy bicyclists. The Surrey countryman generally dislikes the cycling Londoners who travel along the roads of his county in extraordinary numbers. Mr. Jex had noticed that these men, instead of continuing their journey toward London, had turned again in the direction of Jex Farm. If they repassed the Lion at Bexton, they must have done so at night, for they were not seen again.

"Mr. Jex is a fine young man with good looks, a little over thirty years of age, six foot one in height, a sportsman, and popular in the neighborhood. But I will confess at once to you that the ways and manners of the man did not find much favor with me. However, he seemed very ready to give me every assistance in his power. He is resolved, he says, to bring the villains to justice.

"His mother is a kind and motherly old lady, rather infirm in health and slightly deaf. She herself gave me to understand that she fully approved of the approaching marriage of her son. I gather in the neighborhood that Mr. Jex, like so many of his class, has been very hard hit by the prevailing agricultural depression, and that his proposed marriage with his cousin, Miss Judson, an orphan, with a considerable fortune of her own, was something of a godsend to himself and his family.

"My written orders from headquarters had been to instal myself in the house, if I could obtain an invitation, in order the better to unravel the facts of the crime, and I was to take my full time in the investigation. I showed my instructions on this head to Mrs. Jex and her son, and was by them at once cordially invited to consider the farm my home for the time being. I thought it best to leave my two subordinate officers to do outside work and hear and report outside rumors. They put up at the Lion at Bexton.

"It was a somewhat delicate situation, and I put it plainly to each of the inmates of Jex Farm, to Mr. Jex, to his mother, and to a young lady on a visit to them, Miss Lewsome. I was a detective officer, I told them, on a mission to detect a great crime. Though I was a guest at the farm, I was bound, as a police officer, to make a minute inquiry into everybody's conduct since, and before, the murder. They must not take it amiss if I was particular in my questions, and vexatious in my way of putting them. The reasonableness of all this was apparent to them all, and I at once began my investigations at the farm and outside it.

"The first person I interviewed was young Mr. Jex himself. Now, I repeat that I did not quite like young Mr. Jex's manner. Some witnesses are too shy and too holding back, and others a good deal too forward, not to say impatient. Jex was of this class, and I was a little sharper with him in consequence than I should otherwise have been. On the 17th he told me he had returned from shooting at his farm on the other side of Bexton, and he stopped on his way home for a drink at the Red Lion.

"'At what time?' I asked.

"'It was growing dusk,' said Jex. 'I should say it was within a few minutes of half-past five or getting on for six; three men were drinking at the bar, bicyclists; I was thinking they would be overtaken by night; I did not like the looks of those men.'

"'Never mind the bicyclists, for the present, Mr. Jex. You stayed some time in the bar?'

"'An hour or more.'

"'Did you meet any one you knew at the Lion? Any neighbors?'

"'Yes, I met James Barton and--'

"'Don't trouble yourself with their names just now! You met friends who can speak to your being at the inn?'

"'I did.'

"'That will do. I want to get to the dates. At about 6:30 you started for home?'

"'It was on the stroke of seven, by the clock of the Lion.'

"'You had no doubt taken a glass or two of ale?'

"'No, I took a glass of whisky and water.'

"'Or two?'

"'I took two glasses.'

"You took two glasses of whisky and water, good; and then you set off for the farm? Was your man still with you?'

"'What man?'

"'The man who carried your game, or was it a boy?'

"'I had no man, or boy, with me. I had brought three rabbits in my pocket, and these I left as a present to Mrs. Jones of the Lion.'

"You were carrying your gun, of course?'

"'Of course I was.'

"'Was it loaded?'

"'Yes, but I drew the charges as I neared home.'

"'You noticed nothing unusual as you came in?'

"'Nothing.'

"'Yet you passed within a yard of the orchard gate where the poor girl must have been lying dead?'

"'I did, of course, but it was pitch dark under the trees. I saw nothing but the lights in the parlor windows from the time I opened the gate out of the road.'

"'And coming along the road from Bexton you did not notice, or hear anything?'

"'Yes, I saw the lanterns of three cyclists coming toward me when I had got only a few hundred yards from the Lion. I never saw men traveling faster by night; they nearly got me down in the road between them.'

"'Were they the men who had been drinking at the Lion?'

"'I couldn't see, it was too dark. They never slackened speed; I just felt the swish and wind of their machines as they shaved past me.'

"'You noticed nothing else on the road home?"

"'Yes, I thought I heard some shots far away--poachers, I thought at the time--in Squire Watson's woods.'

"'How many shots?'

"'Three.'

"'Close together?'

"'As close as I speak now: one--two--three.'

"'Was this long after you met the cyclists?'

"He took a moment to think. 'Come, Mr. Jex, you can't want time to answer such a simple question?'

"'It was some time before I met them.'

"'How far might it have been from the Lion when you heard the three shots?'

"'A matter of half a mile or so.'

"'Then it was after you met the cyclists?'

"'No, it was before.'

"'It was after, for you told me just now you met them a few hundred yards on your way home, and now you say you heard the shots when you were half a mile on your way home. Half a mile is not a few hundred yards; it is 880 yards.'

"Mr. Jex seemed puzzled.

"'You are too sharp on a fellow!' he said.

"'I had need to be, perhaps, Mr. Jex,' I answered.

"'Now, Mr. Jex,' I said, 'there is another point on which I am afraid I must question you.'

"'I guess what it is,' said he; 'go ahead. You mean about me and Miss Judson?'

"'That is so, about Miss Judson and yourself. You were engaged to her?'

"'I was.'

"'Had the engagement lasted long?'

"'A month.'

"'And she had been two months your mother's guest at the farm?'

"'Going on for three.'

"'And there was nothing standing against your wishes?'

"'I don't understand what sort of thing you mean.'

"'Well, any misunderstanding between you--quarrels, you know?'

"'Oh, lovers' quarrels! They don't amount to much, do they? We had the usual number, I suppose.' (This is a queer, indifferent sort of a lover, I thought.)

"'Well, even a lover's quarrel has a cause, I suppose--and it's mostly jealousy; perhaps there was some neighbor you did not fancy the look of?'

"'God bless you, no! Hiss Judson hardly knew the neighbors.'

"'Or some old London friend the young lady may have had a liking for once?'

"'Couldn't be,' said Jex positively. 'Because Mary only had one friend. She had been engaged to him, and she threw him over. She fancied me better, you see. She told me all about him. She told me everything, you know.'

"'Ah, I suppose women always do!"

"'They do when they care for a fellow,' said Jex warmly.

"The man's way of talking of the poor dead girl grated upon me most unpleasantly.

"'Well, perhaps they do, Mr. Jex, but you see, here's a mysterious crime, and I want to find a motive for it.'

"'Who could have a motive?' asked Mr. Jex.

"'Possibly a disappointed rival--from London.'

"'Why, man,' said Jex, 'I tell you it couldn't be; the man I spoke of is in New Zealand--thousands of miles away. I tell you the motive was robbery. Why wasn't the girl's gold watch and chain taken?'

"'That might be a blind, Mr. Jex,' said I, looking him straight in the face; 'it's a common trick, that.'

"'Oh, nonsense; we all agreed at the inquest it was robbery, and we fastened it on to those three cyclists I saw at the Lion, coming back along the road, hot-foot, just in the nick of time to do the trick. Don't you go wasting your time, Morgan, over rivals, and rot of that kind!'

"I let this very positive gentleman run on, but I thought well presently to throw a little cold water over his cocksureness.

"'Mr. Jex,' I said, 'do you remember that at the inquest the county police put in plaster casts of all the footprints found next morning round about where the body had lain?'

"'Well, what if they did?'

"'Only that I've just compared those footprints with the bootprints of the inmates of this house, and the marks correspond with the boots worn by the three laborers at the farm, and--by yourself.'

"This seemed to stagger him a bit.

"'Of course,' he said, 'we made those marks when we brought the body in.'

"'I know that,' I said.

"'And one country boot,' said Jex, 'is just as like another as one pea is like another.'

"'Not quite so like as that, Mr. Jex, and did you ever know a cyclist to rids his machine in hobnailed boots? There was no single footprint in or near the place but what had heavy hobnails showing. So, you see, the murderer could not be one of your bicyclists.'

"Jex kept silence for a minute, and paled as I watched him.

"'The man who committed this murder, Mr. Jex,' I said, 'never wore a cyclist's shoe or boot.'

"'I'll tell you what,' said Jex, after a longish pause, 'we'd trampled down the ground a good bit all round; we must have trampled out the murderer's footprints.'

"It's just possible,' I said, 'but not likely that he shouldn't have left a square inch of shoeprint anywhere. However, that is of no matter to me at present. I've another bit of evidence that I'll work out first.'

"'A clue?' asked Jex eagerly. 'What is it?'

"'Well, Mr. Jex, you'll excuse me for not mentioning it just at present. You'll know soon enough.' I gave him a moment to think over the matter, then I went on:

"'Now, sir, I should like to ask you one or two more questions, if you're quite agreeable.'

"'Fire away,' said Jex, 'I'm here to answer you.'

"'I'm told you used to meet Miss Judson on your return from shooting, or what not, at the orchard gate leading out of the flower garden?'

"That's so."

"'At nightfall?'

"'Yes, as it grew from dusk to dark.'

"'Might she be expecting you there on the 17th, just as night fell?'

"'Likely she might.'

"'But about that time you were drinking in the bar-parlor of the Lion?'

"'Well, if you call two small goes of whisky and water after a long walk, drinking, I was.'

"'The landlady is an old friend of your mother's, I'm told?'

"Jex laughed. 'Whoever told you that, told you wrong; my mother does not particularly cotton to Mrs. Jones.'

"'What! the two old ladies don't hit it off?'

"'Who told you that Mrs. Jones was an old lady?' said Jex. 'She's a young widow, and a pretty one into the bargain.'

"'That accounts,' said I, 'for the present of rabbits, eh?'

"Jex winked. Decidedly I don't like this young man."