"Lord Dredlinton is dead," he announced in a shocked tone.
"I feared so," Wingate murmured.
"Will you call in some servants?" the doctor went on. "I should like the body carried into his lordship"s bedroom at once."
Grant appeared, quickly followed by two of his subordinates. The melancholy little procession left the room, and Shields turned to follow it. As he reached the door, he hesitated and glanced around towards Wingate.
"Mr. Wingate," he said, "I wish to hear what the doctor has to say concerning Lord Dredlinton"s death, but I also wish to have another word with you before you leave the house. Can I rely upon your waiting here for me?"
"I give you my word," Wingate promised.
"I shall also require some explanation," the inspector continued, turning to Phipps--
"Explanation be d.a.m.ned!" the latter interrupted furiously. "If you want to know the truth about the whole business--"
He broke off suddenly. His eyes seemed fascinated by the slow entry of Wingate"s hand to his pocket. He kicked a footstool sullenly on one side.
The inspector, after waiting for a moment, turned away.
"In due season," he concluded, "I shall require to hear the truth from both of you gentlemen. You seem to have given Scotland Yard a great deal of unnecessary trouble."
The telephone bell began to ring as the door closed. Wingate took up the receiver, listened for a moment and pa.s.sed the instrument over to Phipps. The latter presently replaced the receiver upon its hook with a little groan.
"You"ve broken us," he announced grimly.
"No news has ever given me greater pleasure." Wingate replied.
Stanley Rees rose to his feet.
"We are not prisoners any more, I suppose?" he asked sullenly. "I am going home."
"There is nothing to detain you," Wingate replied politely, "unless you choose to take breakfast first."
"We want no more of your hospitality," Phipps muttered. "You will hear of us again!"
Wingate stood between them and the door.
"Listen," he said. "You are going away, I can see, with one idea in your mind. You have held your peace during the last quarter of an hour, because you have known that your lives would be forfeit if you told the truth, but you are saying to yourselves now that from the shelter of other walls you can tell your story."
There was a furtive look in Rees" eyes, a guilty twitch on his companion"s mouth. Wingate smiled.
"You cannot," he continued, "by the wildest stretch of imagination, believe that this has been a one-man job. The whole scheme of your conveyance into Dredlinton House and into this room has necessitated the employment of something like twenty men. The greater part of these, of course, have been paid by me. One or two are volunteers."
"Volunteers?" Phipps exclaimed. "Do you mean that you could find men to do your dirty work for nothing?"
"I found men," Wingate answered sternly, "and I could find many more--and without payment, too--who were willing to enter into any scheme directed against you and your company."
"Are we to stand here," Phipps demanded, "whilst you preach us a sermon about our business methods?"
"I am afraid, for your own sakes, you must hear what I have to say before you go," Wingate replied. "I will put it in as few words as possible. If you give the show away, besides making yourselves the laughingstocks of the world you may live for twenty-four hours if my people are unlucky, but I give you my word of honour, Phipps--and I will do you the credit of believing that you recognise truth when you come across it--that you will both of you be dead before the dawn of the second day."
Phipps leaned against the back of a chair. He seemed to have aged ten years in the last few days.
"You threaten us with the vengeance of some secret society?" he demanded.
"Not so very secret, either," Wingate rejoined, "but if you want to know the truth, I will tell it you. The greatest problem which we had to face, in arranging this little escapade, was how we should keep you silent after your release. We could think of none but primitive means, and those primitive means are established. There are five men, each of them men who have been ruined by the operations of your company, who have sworn to take your lives if you should divulge the truth as to your detention here. They are men of their word and they will do it. That is the position, gentlemen. I will not detain you any longer."
Phipps moistened his dry lips.
"If," he said, "we decide to hold our peace about the happenings of the last few days, it will not be because of your threats."
"So long as you hold your peace," Wingate replied drily, "I have no desire to question your motives. Believe me, though, silence, and silence alone, will preserve your lives."
He opened the door and they pa.s.sed out of the room, Phipps stumbling a little, as though blinded by the unexpected sunshine which streamed through the skylight in the hall. From the shadows beyond, Grant came suddenly into evidence.
"Breakfast is served in the dining room," he announced respectfully.
A flickering anger seemed suddenly to blaze up in Stanley Rees. He cast a furious glance at the man whose fingers had twisted their imprisoning cords.
"Open the door," he snarled, "and let us get out of this d.a.m.ned house!"
Almost before the front door had closed upon Phipps and his nephew.
Inspector Shields descended the stairs, crossed the hall, made his way down the pa.s.sage, and silently entered the room which had been the scene of the tragedy. Wingate was standing in the midst of the debris at the far end of the apartment, directing the operations of a servant whom he had summoned. Shields held up his hand.
"Stop, please," he ordered quietly.
The two men both looked around.
"I was just having the room cleared up," Wingate explained.
"Presently," was the curt reply. "Please send the man away. I want a word with you alone."
The pseudo-servant lingered, his eyes fixed upon Wingate"s face. He, too, was an underling of Grant"s,--a keen, intelligent-looking man, with broad shoulders and a powerful face. Wingate nodded understandingly.
"I will ring if I need you, John," he said quietly.
The man left the room. Wingate sat upon the arm of an easy-chair. Shields stood looking meditatively about him, his hands thrust deep into his coat pockets.
"What is the physician"s report?" the former asked.
The inspector seemed to come back from a brown study.
"Ah! Upon Lord Dredlinton? A very good report from your point of view, Mr. Wingate. Lord Dredlinton"s death was due to exhaustion, but the doctor certifies that he was suffering, and has been for some time, from advanced valvular disease of the heart."
"He had not the appearance," Wingate observed, "of being a healthy man."
"He certainly was not," Shields admitted. "On the other hand, with great care he might have lived for some time. The immediate cause of his death was the strain of--what shall we call it, Mr. Wingate--this orgy?"
"An excellent word," Wingate agreed, his eyes fixed upon his companion.