The Darke Chronicles Read Online Free

his hands in a mock surrender. ‘There I go again, overstepping the mark. I shall say no more. Pray continue.’
    Withouta word, the butler carried on up the stairs. Thornton and Darke followed, with the latter giving his companion a huge wink.
    At length the two men were shown into the dressing room of the murdered man.
    ‘You can leave us now, Boldwood. Inspector Thornton and I need to inspect these rooms alone. We shall not be too long.’
    The butler hesitated by the door.
    Thornton gave a polite cough to initiate the servant’s departure. ‘Thank you, Boldwood. We shall make our own way downstairs.’
    With reluctance, Boldwood left the room.
    ‘Now,’ said Darke, rubbing his hands, ‘show me this magic study.’
    Thornton led him to the rear of the dressing room and flung open the study door to reveal a small, dark chamber beyond containing a desk, a chair and a small bookcase. There was a fireplace on the far wall. Thornton switched on the electric light, which bathed the study in a suffuse amber glow.
    As soon as Darke had entered the room, he examined the door. ‘Was the key found to the study?’
    ‘No,’ said Thornton kneeling beside him. ‘But it was bolted, too, remember.’
    ‘Oh, indeed, I do remember. This is the poor thing hanging off here.’
    ‘It was damaged when Jack Stavely broke down the door.’
    ‘Mm. He did us something of a favour. Look here, Thornton, at these screws: they are new and the bolt is shiny and unmarked.’ He indicated where the bolt had been attached to the door. ‘Notice the portion of wood which had been covered by the bolt before Mr Stavely’s boot came into play. It is the same colour as the surrounding wood. There is no differentiation whatsoever.’
    ‘What are you saying?’
    ‘That this bolt is new, very new. It cannot have been there for very long. If it had been in place for any length of time, the wood beneath it would be of a different hue. See the screw holes, how white and fresh the wood is. And, my friend, most damning of all…’
    Darkescooped up a few white specks from the carpet. ‘Sawdust,’ he explained. ‘From the screw holes. It is possible that the bolt was only fixed there on the day of the murder.’
    ‘This is all very well, but I fail to see how this throws any fresh light on the identity of the killer, or indeed on the way in which the murder was committed.’
    ‘Patience, my friend.’
    Darke had now moved to the centre of the room and was examining a dark stain on the carpet. ‘Wilberforce’s blood, I suppose?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Not as large a pool as I had expected, but that fits the theory which is forming nicely in my mind. I suppose the knife is at Scotland Yard.’
    ‘It is.’
    ‘Describe it to me.’
    ‘It’s a long-handled knife. Dull metal with some simple carvings and a longish blade which curves slightly at the end.’
    Darke sat at the desk and sketched out a crude drawing. ‘Something like that?’
    ‘Why, yes…’ Before Thornton could say more, a strident voice called out: ‘What the Devil is going on here?’ Both men turned to discover a young man standing in the doorway of the study. He was short of stature and had his hands on his hips in an aggressive manner.
    ‘Mr Stavely,’ said Thornton.
    ‘Yes, Inspector, and you will answer to your superiors for this – barging into Mrs Wilberforce’s house and upsetting the lady.’
    ‘News travels fast, eh, Edward?’ observed Darke with a flicker of amusement.
    ‘You may do what you wish, Mr Stavely,’ said Thornton, approaching the intruder so that he towered over him comfortably. ‘But there is no case of “barging” anywhere. We were invited into the house, and as a police officer I am carrying out my duties in a murder enquiry. I would hope you have no wish to hinder that enquiry.’
    Stavely hesitated. ‘But the enquiry is closed. You have the wretch who murdered Laurence.’
    Darkejoined his friend and placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘It is