In the Mayor's Parlour

by J. S. Fletcher

"Well," continued Krevin cheerfully, "we settled my mission over Mallett's port. The next thing was for me to carry it out. It was necessary to do this immediately—we knew that Wallingford had carried his investigations to such an advanced stage that he might make the results public at any moment. Now, I did not want anyone to know of my meeting with him—I wanted it to be absolutely secret. But I knew how to bring that about. Wallingford spent nearly every evening alone in the Mayor's Parlour—I knew how to reach the Mayor's Parlour unobserved. The secret of which Dr. Pellery has just told you was also known to me—I discovered the passage between St. Lawrence tower and the Moot Hall many years ago. And I determined to get at Wallingford by way of that passage.

"About seven o'clock of the evening on which Wallingford was murdered, I called at Spizey's cottage in St. Lawrence churchyard and got the keys of the church from him, on the excuse that I wanted to copy an inscription. I locked myself into the church, and went up to the chamber in the tower. I spent some little time there, considering the details of my plan of campaign, before going along the secret passage. It would be about half-past seven, perhaps more, when I at last slipped open the panel, and crossed over to the Moot Hall. The panel at the other end of the passage, which admits to the Mayor's Parlour, is the fifth one on the left-hand side of that room; I undid it very cautiously and silently. There was then no one in the parlour. All was silent. I looked through the crack of the panel. There was no one in the place at all. Incidentally, I may mention that when I thus took an observation of the parlour I noticed that on an old oak chest, standing by the wainscoting and immediately behind the Mayor's chair and desk, lay the rapier which was produced at the inquest, and with which he, undoubtedly, was killed.

"I suddenly heard the handle of the door into the corridor turned, then Wallingford's voice. I slipped the panel back till it was nearly closed, and stood with my ear against it, listening. Wallingford was not alone. He had a woman with him. And I made out, in their first exchange of words, that he had met her in the corridor just outside the door of the Mayor's Parlour and that they were quarrelling and both in high temper. I——"

"Stop!" exclaimed the chairman, lifting his hand as an excited murmur began to run round the court. "Silence! If there is any interruption—Now," he went on, turning to Krevin, "you say you heard Mr. Wallingford come into the Mayor's Parlour and that he was accompanied by a woman, with whom he was having high words. Did you see this woman?"

"No, I saw neither her nor Wallingford. I only heard their voices."

"Did you recognize her voice as that of any woman you knew?"

"I did—unmistakably! I knew quite well who she was."

"Who was she, then?"

Krevin shook his head.

"For the moment—wait!" he replied. "Let me tell my tale in my own way. To resume, I say they—she and Wallingford—were having high words. I could tell, for instance, that he was in a temper which I should call furious. I overheard all that was said. He was wanting to know as they entered the room how she had got there. She replied that she had watched Mrs. Bunning out of her house from amongst the bushes in St. Lawrence churchyard, and had then slipped in at Bunning's back door, being absolutely determined to see him. Wallingford answered that she would get no good by waylaying him; he had found her out and was done with her; she was an impostor, an adventuress; she had come to the end of her tether. She then demanded some letters—her letters; there were excited words about this from each, and it was not easy to catch all that was said; at times they were both speaking together. But she got in a clear demand at last—was he or was he not going to hand those letters over? He said no, he was not—they were going to remain in his possession as a hold over her; she was a danger to the community with her plottings and underhand ways, and he intended to show certain of those letters to others. There was more excited wrangling over this—I heard Dr. Wellesley's name mentioned, then Mallett's: I also heard some reference, which I couldn't make head or tail of, to money and documents. In the midst of all this Wallingford suddenly told her to go; he had had enough of it, and had his work to attend to. Once more she demanded the letters; he answered with a very peremptory negative. Then I heard a sound as of his chair being pulled up to his desk, followed by a brief silence. Then, all of a sudden, I heard another sound, half-cry, half-groan, and a sort of dull thud, as if something had fallen. A moment later, as I was wondering what had happened, and what to do, I heard the door which opens into the corridor close gently. And at that I pushed back the panel and looked into the Mayor's Parlour."