The Woman in Black | Page 9

"No. Now you raise the point, I am reminded
that when I interviewed Manderson here he was wearing stiff cuffs,
coming well down over his hands."
"He always did," said Trent. "My friend the manager says so. I pointed
out to him the fact you didn't observe, that there were no cuffs visible,
and that they had indeed been dragged up inside the coat-sleeves, as
yours would be if you hurried into a coat without pulling your cuffs
down. That was why you saw his wrists."
"Well, I call that suggestive," observed Mr. Cupples mildly. "You
might infer, perhaps, that when he got up he hurried over his dressing."
"Yes, but did he? The manager said just what you say. 'He was always
a bit of a swell in his dress,' he told me, and he drew the inference that
when Manderson got up in that mysterious way, before the house was
stirring, and went out into the grounds, he was in a great hurry. 'Look at
his shoes,' he said to me: 'Mr. Manderson was always specially neat
about his foot-wear. But those shoe-laces were tied in a hurry.' I agreed.
'And he left his false teeth in his room,' said the manager. 'Doesn't that
prove he was flustered and hurried?' I allowed that it looked like it. But
I said, 'Look here: if he was so very much pressed, why did he part his
hair so carefully? That parting is a work of art. Why did he put on so
much?--for he had on a complete out-fit of underclothing, studs in his
shirt, sock-suspenders, a watch and chain, money and keys and things
in his pockets.' That's what I said to the manager. He couldn't find an
explanation. Can you?"
Mr. Cupples considered. "Those facts might suggest that he was hurried
only at the end of his dressing. Coat and shoes would come last."

"But not false teeth. You ask anybody who wears them. And besides,
I'm told he hadn't washed at all on getting up, which in a neat man
looks like his being in a violent hurry from the beginning. And here's
another thing. One of his waistcoat pockets was lined with wash-leather
for the reception of his gold watch. But he had put his watch into the
pocket on the other side. Anybody who has settled habits can see how
odd that is. The fact is, there are signs of great agitation and haste, and
there are signs of exactly the opposite. For the present I am not
guessing. I must reconnoiter the ground first, if I can manage to get the
right side of the people of the house." Trent applied himself again to his
breakfast.
Mr. Cupples smiled at him benevolently. "That is precisely the point,"
he said, "on which I can be of some assistance to you." Trent glanced
up in surprise. "I told you I half expected you. I will explain the
situation. Mrs. Manderson, who is my niece--"
"What!" Trent laid down his knife and fork. "Cupples, you are jesting
with me."
"I am perfectly serious, Trent, really," returned Mr. Cupples earnestly.
"Her father, John Peter Domecq, was my wife's brother. I never
mentioned my niece or her marriage to you before, I suppose. To tell
the truth, it has always been a painful subject to me, and I have avoided
discussing it with anybody. To return to what I was about to say: last
night, when I was over at the house--by the way, you can see it from
here. You passed it in the car." He indicated a red roof among poplars
some three hundred yards away, the only building in sight that stood
separate from the tiny village in the gap below them.
"Certainly I did," said Trent. "The manager told me all about it, among
other things, as he drove me in from Bishopsbridge."
"Other people here have heard of you and your performances," Mr.
Cupples went on. "As I was saying, when I was over there last night,
Mr. Bunner, who is one of Manderson's two secretaries, expressed a
hope that the Record would send you down to deal with the case, as the
police seemed quite at a loss. He mentioned one or two of your past

successes, and Mabel--my niece--was interested when I told her
afterwards. She is bearing up wonderfully well, Trent; she has
remarkable fortitude of character. She said she remembered reading
your articles about the Abinger case. She has a great horror of the
newspaper side of this sad business, and she had entreated me to do
anything I could to keep journalists away from the place--I'm sure you
can understand her feeling, Trent; it isn't really any reflection on that
profession. But she said you appeared to have great powers as