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The Bolted Door III

Word Count: 3897    |    Released on: 17/11/2017

midnight when

torney be hanged; see a doctor, see a doctor!" he had cried; and

lieve his story. For three hours he had explained, elucidated, patiently and painfully gone

tradictions. And when the attempt failed, when Granice triumphantly met and refuted each disconcerting question, the lawyer dropped the mask sudd

eer about the play inflamed him. Was all the

e of the other's mockery; and Ascham answered with a smile: "Ever read any of those books on halluci

hair before his writing-table. He underst

t if they all t

n his icy hands. But gradually, as he began to rehearse his story for the thousandth time, he s

n that case - if he did believe me - he might think it a kindness to get me shut up in an asylum . . . " Granice began to tremble again. "Good heaven! If he should bring in an expert - one of those damned alienists! Ascham and Petti

to his bursting temples and tried to think. For the fi

noticed what a queer eye he cocked at me. G

n alienist, and come back with him? Granice jumped to his feet, and his sudden gesture brushed the morning pa

ched for the telephone boo

hree-o-ten

voidable line of conduct, that he could pull himself through the meaningless days. Each time he reached a fresh decision it was like coming out of a fog

t home? Can I come and see you . . . yes, now . . . have a talk? It's rather urgent . . . yes, might give you some first-rate 'copy.' . . . All right!" H

y blinked at him and then dropped his head on his folded arms. Granice passed out into the street. At the corner of Fifth Avenue he hailed a crawling cab, and called out an up-town address. The long thoroughfar

r, feeling for his latch-key, ushere

en to-morrow morning . . . but this is my li

grizzling hair there were few traces left of the hungry-eyed young reporter who, on his way home in the small hours, used to "bob in" on Granice, while the latter sat grinding at his plays. Denve

n the shoulder. "Reminds me of the nights when I used to rout you out . . . How's the play, by the w

anice's tortured nerves, that the words had not been uttered in malice - and the fact gave him a new measure of

om, where there were cigars and decanters. He pushed an arm-chair to

ourself. And let's

atter, lighting his cigar, said to himself: "Succe

began: "Denver, I

rough them the editor's face came and went like the moon through a moving sky. Once the hour struck - then the rhythmical t

d if I open

ed down the upper sash, and returned to his chair. "Well - go on,

my going on if yo

says I don't believe you? And ho

Well, I had a thousand or so put by, and I nosed around till I found what I wanted - a second-hand racer. I knew how to drive a car, and I tried the thing and found it was all right. Times were bad, and I bought it for my price, and stored it away. Where? Why, in one of those no-questions-asked garages where they keep motors that are not for family use. I had a lively cousin who had put me up to that dodge, and I looked a

an's room, shoot him, and get away again. It was a big risk, but I thought I could manage it. Then we heard that he was ill

orehead: the open window did no

ry a bit of melon. The house-keeper had just telephoned her - all Wrenfield was in a flutter. The doctor himself had picked out the melon,

t was the one I wanted. Melons didn't lie around loose in that house - every one was known, numbered, catalogued. The old man was beset by the dread that the servants would eat them, and he took a hundred mean precautions to prevent it. Yes, I fe

. I had got together a sort of disguise - red beard and queer-looking ulster. I shoved them into a bag, and went round to the garage. There was no one there but a half-drunken machinist whom

was, I could trust myself to strike a sharp pace. In the shadow of a wood I stopped a second and

d went back . . . The house was as dark as the grave. I knew everybody went to bed by ten. But there might be a prowling servant - the kitchen-maid might have come down to let in her Italian. I had to risk that, of course. I crept around by the back door and hid in the shrubbery. Then

es to twelve I was back in the car. I got out of the lane as quietly as I could, struck a back road that skirted the village, and let the car out as soon as I was beyond the last houses. I only sto

ross the smoke-fumes at his listener;

"Why did you want

im that if his motive had not seemed convincing to the lawyer it would carry much less weight with Denver. Both were

me . . . remorse, I supp

the ashes from

h!" he said e

nk. "You don't bel

your talking of remorse proves to me that you're no

I lied to you about remor

ut his freshly-filled pipe. "What was y

lure, of his loathing for life. "Don't say you don't believe me this time .

queer things. There's always a reason for wanting to get out

ight. "Then you do bel

pull the trigger? Oh, yes - that's easy enough, too. But all that doesn't mak

ne, Denver - I

ated. "Just tell me

stump me!" Granice heard

's curiosity? I knew your night habits pretty well at that time, remember.

sits in the country soon after we came back from Wrenfield, and w

e went to bed earl

thing when she had that kind. And he

ou got back - she didn't hear you?

word where I'd left off - why, Denver, don't you re

embe

oked in that morning, between two an

he edito

y pipe: looked as if I'd been working all night, did

n crossed them again. "I didn't k

ha

at particular ni

st, when they looked round to see what all the old man's heirs had been doing that night - you who testified to having dropp

ible enough - and the idea's picturesque, I grant you: ask

t!" Granice's laugh h

t the elevated station, and told him I was on my way to smoke a pipe with you, and his saying: 'All right; you'll find him in. I passed the house two hours ag

I reme

, th

- something to cast a shadow on the blind. All you fellows were used to seeing my shadow t

oothache saw the shadow move - you remember she said

have jolted by the flimsy building - at any rate, something gave my manni

he editor, at any rate, did not sneer and flout him. After all, journalism gave a deeper insight than the law in

ranice fa

reast of it! Nerves gone to smash? I'd like to take you to see a chap I know - an ex-

od up also, and the two men eyed eac

n I? There wasn't a

filled it ful

if I hadn't happened to know that you wan

didn't. You mean my want

ht have been worth looking into. As it is, a child could ha

much as you like. Only give the other fellows a chance at it - men who don't know anything about me. Set them talking and looking about. I don't care a damn whether you believe me - what I want is to convince the Grand Jury! I oughtn't to have come to a man who knows me - your cursed

gh then to believe that you murdered old Lenman - you or anybody else. All they wanted was a murderer - the most improbable would have served. But your alibi was too confoundedly complete. And nothing you've

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