The Middle of Things

by J. S. Fletcher

"Unfortunately, very little," replied the visitor. "What I saw was on the night before I left Paris—after it I never saw Ashton again to speak to. It was late at night. Do you know the Rue Royale? There is at the end of it a well-known restaurant, close to the Place de la Concorde—I was sitting outside this about a quarter to eleven when I saw Ashton and the man I am speaking of pass along the pavement in the direction of the Madeleine. What made me particularly notice the man was the fact that although it was an unusually warm night, he was closely muffled in a big white silk handkerchief. It was swathed about his throat, his chin, his mouth; it reached, in fact, right up to his eyes. An odd thing, on such a warm night—Ashton, who was in evening dress, had his light overcoat thrown well back. He was talking very volubly as they passed me—the other man was listening with evident attention."

"Would you know the man if you saw him again?" asked Viner.

"I should most certainly know him if I saw him dressed and muffled in the same way," asserted Mr. Armitstead. "And I believe I could recognize him from his eyes—which, indeed, were all that I could really see of him. He was so muffled, I tell you, that it was impossible to see if he was a clean-shaven man or a bearded man. But I did see his eyes, for he turned them for an instant full on the light of the restaurant. They were unusually dark, full and brilliant—his glance would best be described as flashing. And I should say, from my impression at the time, and from what I remember of his dress, that he was a foreigner—probably an Italian."

"You didn't see this man at your hotel?" asked Mr. Pawle.

"No—I never saw him except on this one occasion," replied Mr. Armitstead. "And I did not see Ashton after that. I left Paris very early the next morning, for Rouen, where I had some business. You think this matter of the man in the muffler important?"

"Now that you've told us what you have, Mr. Armitstead, I think it's of the utmost importance and consequence—to Hyde," answered Mr. Pawle. "You must see his solicitor—he's Mr. Viner's solicitor too—and offer to give evidence when Hyde's brought up again; it will be of the greatest help. There's no doubt, to me, at any rate, that the man Hyde saw leaving the scene of the murder is the man you saw with Ashton in Paris. But now, who is he? Ashton, as we happen to know, left his ship at Naples, and travelled to England through Italy and France. Is this man some fellow that he picked up on the way? His general appearance, now—how did that strike you?"

"He was certainly a man of great distinction of manner," declared Mr. Armitstead. "He had the air and bearing of—well, of a personage. I should say he was somebody—you know what I mean—a man of superior position, and so on."

"Viner," exclaimed Mr. Pawle, "that man must be found! There must be people in London who saw him that night. People can't disappear like that. We'll set to work on that track—find him we must! Now, all the evidence goes to show that he and Ashton were in company that night—probably they'd been dining together, and he was accompanying Ashton to his house. How is it that no one at all has come forward to say that Ashton was seen with this man? It's really extraordinary!"

Mr. Armitstead shook his head.

"There's one thing you're forgetting, aren't you?" he said. "Ashton and this man mayn't have been in each other's company many minutes when the murder took place. Ashton may have been trapped. I don't know much about criminal affairs, but in reading the accounts of the proceedings before the magistrate and the coroner, an idea struck me which, so far as I could gather from the newspapers, doesn't seem to have struck any one else."