The Classic Mystery Collection - Arthur Conan Doyle [5968]
"It's an assumption I intend to put to the proof, anyway," I answered, somewhat testily, "and if it fails, I'm afraid you'll have to go to jail till I can dig up some more evidence."
He turned toward me quickly, his face working.
"See here, Mr. Lester," he said, "don't misunderstand me. I'm awfully grateful for all you're doing for me; but I don't mind going to jail--not on my own account. I'm innocent, and I'll be able to prove it in time. But Marjorie mustn't be left alone. I'd be ready to face anything if I knew that she was safe. She mustn't be left in that house--not a single night. Promise me that you'll take her with you as soon as the inquest's over!"
"I'll promise that, Swain, gladly," I said, "provided, of course, the doctor consents."
"We must get him," and Swain sprang to his feet. "We must explain to him how important it is."
"Perhaps I can get him on the 'phone," I said; but the person who answered told me that he had already started for the inquest. And, a moment later, Mrs. Hargis tapped at the door of the study and said that the doctor was outside. I told her to show him in at once.
"The truth is," said Hinman, shaking hands with both of us, "I thought I'd drop in to find out if there was anything I could do. No reasonable person," he went on, turning to Swain, "believes you killed that defenceless old man; but those finger-prints certainly do puzzle me."
"They puzzle me, too," said Swain; "but I'll prove my innocence--though it will take time."
"It looks to me," said the doctor, slowly, "that about the only way you can prove your innocence is to catch the real murderer."
"That's exactly what we're going to try to do," I assented.
"And meanwhile Mr. Swain will be in jail?" asked the doctor.
"I'm afraid there's no help for it," I admitted ruefully.
"I was just telling Mr. Lester that I didn't mind that," said Swain earnestly, "that I could stand anything, if I was only sure that Miss Vaughan was safe. She isn't safe in that house. Mr. Lester has arranged to place her with the family of his partner, Mr. Royce, where she will be properly taken care of. Is there any reason why she can't be taken there to-day?"
The doctor considered for a moment.
"Ordinarily," he said, at last, "I would advise that she be left where she is for a few days; but, under the circumstances, perhaps she would better be moved. You can get an easy-riding carriage--or a car will do, if you drive carefully. The nurses, will, of course, go along. The only thing is, she will probably wish to attend her father's funeral, which takes place to-morrow."
Swain bit his lips nervously.
"I have a horror of her staying in that house another night," he said; "but I hadn't thought of the funeral. There is one nurse on duty all the time, isn't there, doctor?"
"Yes."
"All right, then; we'll risk one night more. But you promise me that she shall be taken away immediately after the funeral?"
"Yes," I said, "I promise."
"And I," said the doctor. Then he looked at his watch. "It's time we were getting back," he added.
He took us over in his car, and we found the jury, under the guidance of Simmonds, just coming out of the house, each member smoking a fat black cigar at the expense of the State. They had been viewing the body and the scene of the crime, but as they filed back into their seats, I noted that they seemed anything but depressed. The lunch had evidently been a good one.
Sylvester was recalled to finish his testimony. He explained the system of curves and angles by which finger-prints are grouped and classified, and the various points of resemblance by which two prints could be proved to have been made by the same finger. There was, first of all, the general convolution, whether a flexure, a stria, a sinus, a spiral, a circle, or a whorl; there was, secondly, the number of ridges in the convolution; and there was, thirdly, the angles which these ridges made. If two prints agreed in all these details,