Murder on the Links

Just for a moment I had the uncanny sensation that the dead man had come to life again. Then I realized that this dark head was untouched with grey, and that, in point of fact, it was a mere boy who now burst in among us with so little ceremony. He went straight to Mrs. Renauld with an impetuosity that took no heed of the presence of others.

'Mother!'

'Jack!' With a cry she folded him in her arms. 'My dearest! But what brings you here? You were to sail on the Aurora from Cherbourg two days ago?' Then, suddenly recalling to herself the presence of others, she turned with a certain dignity: 'My son messieurs.'

'Aha!' said M. Hautet, acknowledging the young man's bow. 'So you did not sail on the Aurora?'

'No, monsieur. As I was about to explain, the Aurora was detained twenty-four hours through engine trouble. I should have sailed last night instead of the night before, but, happening to buy an evening papers I saw in it an account of the-the awful tragedy that had befallen us-' His voice broke and the tears came into his eyes. 'My poor father-my poor, poor father.'

Staring at him like one in a dream, Mrs. Renauld repeated: 'So you did not sail?' And then, with a gesture of infinite weariness, she murmured as though to herself: 'After all, it does not matter-now.'

'Sit down Monsieur Renauld I beg of you,' said M. Hautet indicating a chair. 'My sympathy for you is profound. It must have been a terrible shock to you to learn the news as you did. However, it is most fortunate that you were prevented from sailing. I am in hopes that you may be able to give us just the information we need to clear up this mystery.'

'I am at your disposal, monsieur. Ask me any questions you please.'

'To begin with, I understand that this journey was being undertaken at your father's request?'

'Quite so, monsieur. I received a telegram bidding me to proceed without delay to Buenos Aires, and from thence the Andes to Valparaiso, and on to Santiago.'

'Ah! And the object of this journey?'

'I have no idea.'

'What?'

'No. See, here is the telegram.'

The magistrate took it and read it aloud: '"Proceed immediately Cherbourg embark Aurora sailing tonight Buenos Aires. Ultimate destination Santiago. Further instructions will await you Buenos Aires. Do not fail. Matter is of utmost importance. [garbled]."And there had been no previous correspondence on the matter?'

Jack Renauld shook his head. 'That is the only intimation of any kind. I knew, of course, that my father, having lived so long out there, had necessarily many interests in South America. But he had never mooted any suggestion of sending me out.'

'You have, of course, been a good deal in South America, M. Renauld?'

'I was there as a child. But I was educated in England, and spent most of my holidays in that country, so, I really know far less of South America than might be supposed. You see, the War broke out when I was seventeen.'

'You served in the English Flying Corps, did you not?'

'Yes, monsieur.'

M. Hautet nodded his head and proceeded with his inquiries along the, by now, well-known lines. In response, Jack Renauld declared definitely that he knew nothing of any enmity his father might have incurred in the city of Santiago or elsewhere in the South American continent, that he had noticed no change in his father's manner of late, and that he had never heard him refer to a secret. He had regarded the mission to South America as connected with business interests.

As M. Hautet paused for a minute, the quiet voice of Giraud broke in: 'I should like to put a few questions of my own, Monsieur le juge.'

'By all means, Monsieur Giraud, if you wish,' said the magistrate coldly.

Giraud edged his chair a little nearer to the table. 'Were you on good terms with your father, Monsieur Renauld?'

'Certainly I was,' returned the lad haughtily.

'You assert that positively?'

'Yes.'

'No little disputes, eh?'

Jack shrugged his shoulders. 'Everyone may have a difference of opinion now and then.'

'Quite so, quite so. But, if anyone were to assert that you had a violent quarrel with your father on the eve of your departure for Paris, that person, without doubt would be lying?'

I could not but admire the ingenuity of Giraud. His boast, 'I know everything,' had been no idle one. Jack Renauld was clearly disconcerted by the question.

'We-we did have an argument,' he admitted.

'Ah, an argument! In the course of that argument, did you use this phrase: "When you are dead I can do as I please"?'

'I may have done,' muttered the other. 'I don't know.'

'In response to that, did your father say: "But I am not dead yet!"? To which you responded: "I wish you were!"'

The boy made no answer. His hands fiddled nervously with the things on the table in front of him.

'I must request an answer, please, Monsieur Renauld,' said Giraud sharply.