tell you it will be a great relief to us and all law-abiding people if we can have this man in custody. We want to prevent him from committing more crimes like this one.”
“When do you wish me to come?”
“Tomorrow morning. We will send a carriage for you at ten thirty.”
“I will be ready.”
He touched my hand lightly. “Thank you, Miss Lansdon,” he said.
When he had gone, I kept thinking about the man and I wondered how he could have shot cold-bloodedly a fellow human being whom he did not know. He could not have paused to think of the misery he might be causing to a number of people. The opinion seemed to be that he did it to serve a cause. What causes were worth human lives and all the misery such crimes like this one could bring about?
I slept little that night. Once I got out of bed and went to the window. I looked out on the deserted street where the light from the lamp shone on the damp pavement. I was shivering, half-expecting to see that man there.
The next morning the carriage arrived.
I was taken into a room where Inspector Gregory was waiting for me.
“Thank you for coming, Miss Lansdon,” he said. “It’s just along here.”
He took me into a room where eight men were standing in a line.
“Just walk along and see if our man is among the others,” murmured the Inspector.
I approached the line. Some were tall, some short, some of medium height, dark and fair. I walked slowly along.
He was there—the fifth. I knew him at once. He had attempted to disguise the peak of hair by shaving it but by looking intently I could see its outline; and there was a faint white scar on his left cheek, which I could see he had attempted to conceal by some coloring matter. There was not a doubt in my mind as I went back to the Inspector.
“He is there,” I said. “The fifth in the line. I could see the outline of the peak of hair and he has tried to conceal the scar. The second time I did not see his hair but yet I knew he was the same man. And I know it now.”
“That is good. You have been of the greatest help to us, Miss Lansdon. We are extremely grateful to you.”
They took me back. I was exhausted. I kept thinking of that moment when his eyes had looked into mine. I could not explain the expression I saw there. He knew that I was aware of who he was. He must have seen me at the window that night; we had looked full at each other when he held the gun in his hand. His eyes were defiant, mocking, faintly contemptuous. Oh, yes, he knew that I had recognized him.
I went to my room when I arrived home. Celeste came in with a glass of hot milk on a tray.
“Was it such an ordeal?” she asked.
“It was just walking along a line of men and picking him out. He knew that I recognized him. Oh, Celeste, it was frightening. It was the way he looked at me … defying me, mocking me.”
“I expect he was very frightened.”
“I am not sure. Perhaps people like that who take life lightly don’t overvalue their own. What do you think will happen to him?”
“He’ll be hanged if he’s proved guilty.”
“He is guilty. It’s rather a sobering thought. But for me, it might not have been proved against him.”
“He would probably have betrayed himself in some way. He must have been caught up in that sort of thing before. The police are very clever. After all, they suspected him and got their hands on him very quickly. They must have known what he was and probably had been watching him, for it seems he was not unknown to them. The fact that you recognized him has made it easier for them to bring this charge against him.”
“But if they do hang him … it will be because of me.”
“No. It will be because he is a murderer who must die so that he cannot murder others as he did Benedict. You’ve got to see it that way. If he were allowed to escape there could shortly be another death, and other bereaved relations suffering because of his wanton act.”
“That,” I said firmly, “is how I
“When do you wish me to come?”
“Tomorrow morning. We will send a carriage for you at ten thirty.”
“I will be ready.”
He touched my hand lightly. “Thank you, Miss Lansdon,” he said.
When he had gone, I kept thinking about the man and I wondered how he could have shot cold-bloodedly a fellow human being whom he did not know. He could not have paused to think of the misery he might be causing to a number of people. The opinion seemed to be that he did it to serve a cause. What causes were worth human lives and all the misery such crimes like this one could bring about?
I slept little that night. Once I got out of bed and went to the window. I looked out on the deserted street where the light from the lamp shone on the damp pavement. I was shivering, half-expecting to see that man there.
The next morning the carriage arrived.
I was taken into a room where Inspector Gregory was waiting for me.
“Thank you for coming, Miss Lansdon,” he said. “It’s just along here.”
He took me into a room where eight men were standing in a line.
“Just walk along and see if our man is among the others,” murmured the Inspector.
I approached the line. Some were tall, some short, some of medium height, dark and fair. I walked slowly along.
He was there—the fifth. I knew him at once. He had attempted to disguise the peak of hair by shaving it but by looking intently I could see its outline; and there was a faint white scar on his left cheek, which I could see he had attempted to conceal by some coloring matter. There was not a doubt in my mind as I went back to the Inspector.
“He is there,” I said. “The fifth in the line. I could see the outline of the peak of hair and he has tried to conceal the scar. The second time I did not see his hair but yet I knew he was the same man. And I know it now.”
“That is good. You have been of the greatest help to us, Miss Lansdon. We are extremely grateful to you.”
They took me back. I was exhausted. I kept thinking of that moment when his eyes had looked into mine. I could not explain the expression I saw there. He knew that I was aware of who he was. He must have seen me at the window that night; we had looked full at each other when he held the gun in his hand. His eyes were defiant, mocking, faintly contemptuous. Oh, yes, he knew that I had recognized him.
I went to my room when I arrived home. Celeste came in with a glass of hot milk on a tray.
“Was it such an ordeal?” she asked.
“It was just walking along a line of men and picking him out. He knew that I recognized him. Oh, Celeste, it was frightening. It was the way he looked at me … defying me, mocking me.”
“I expect he was very frightened.”
“I am not sure. Perhaps people like that who take life lightly don’t overvalue their own. What do you think will happen to him?”
“He’ll be hanged if he’s proved guilty.”
“He is guilty. It’s rather a sobering thought. But for me, it might not have been proved against him.”
“He would probably have betrayed himself in some way. He must have been caught up in that sort of thing before. The police are very clever. After all, they suspected him and got their hands on him very quickly. They must have known what he was and probably had been watching him, for it seems he was not unknown to them. The fact that you recognized him has made it easier for them to bring this charge against him.”
“But if they do hang him … it will be because of me.”
“No. It will be because he is a murderer who must die so that he cannot murder others as he did Benedict. You’ve got to see it that way. If he were allowed to escape there could shortly be another death, and other bereaved relations suffering because of his wanton act.”
“That,” I said firmly, “is how I
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