“He’s not asleep! He’s drugged! What’s the meaning of this?”
His eye went to the empty cachet box. He picked it up.
“Has he -”
“I think so,” I said. “He showed me these the other day. Told me he’d been warned against an overdose. It’s his way out, poor chap. Perhaps the best way. It’s not for us to judge him.”
But Melchett was Chief Constable of the County before anything else. The arguments that appealed to me had no weight with him. He had caught a murderer and he wanted his murderer hanged.
In one second he was at the telephone, jerking the receiver up and down impatiently until he got a reply. He asked for Haydock’s number. Then there was a further pause during which he stood, his ear to the telephone and his eyes on the limp figure in the chair.
“Hallo – hallo – hallo – is that Dr. Haydock’s? Will the doctor come round at once to High Street? Mr. Hawes’. It’s urgent… what’s that?… Well, what number is it then?… Oh, sorry.”
He rang off, fuming.
“Wrong number, wrong number – always wrong numbers! And a man’s life hanging on it. HALLO – you gave me the wrong number…. Yes – don’t waste time – give me three nine – nine, not five.”
Another period of impatience – shorter this time.
“Hallo – is that you, Haydock? Melchett speaking. Come to 19 High Street at once, will you? Hawes has taken some kind of overdose. At once, man, it’s vital.”
He rang off, strode impatiently up and down the room.
“Why on earth you didn’t get hold of the doctor at once, Clement, I cannot think. Your wits must have all gone wool gathering.”
Fortunately it never occurs to Melchett that any one can possibly have any different ideas on conduct to those he holds himself, I said nothing, and he went on:
“Where did you find this letter?”
“Crumpled on the door – where it had fallen from his hand.”
“Extraordinary business – that old maid was right about its being the wrong note we found. Wonder how she tumbled to that. But what an ass the fellow was not to destroy this one. Fancy keeping it – the most damaging evidence you can imagine!”
“Human nature is full of inconsistencies.”
“If it weren’t, I doubt if we should ever catch a murderer! Sooner or later they always do some fool thing. You’re looking very under the weather, Clement. I suppose this has been the most awful shock to you?”
“It has. As I say, Hawes has been queer in his manner for some time, but I never dreamed -”
“Who would? Hallo, that sounds like a car.” He went across to the window, pushing up the sash and leaning out. “Yes, it’s Haydock all right.”
A moment later the doctor entered the room.
In a few succinct words Melchett explained the situation.
Haydock is not a man who ever shows his feelings. He merely raised his eyebrows, nodded, and strode across to his patient. He felt his pulse, raised the eyelid and looked intently at the eye.
Then he turned to Melchett.
“Want to save him for the gallows?” he asked. “He’s pretty far gone, you know. It will be touch and go, anyway. I doubt if I can bring him round.”
“Do everything possible.”
“Right.”
He busied himself with the case he had brought with him, preparing a hypodermic injection which he injected into Hawes’s arm. Then he stood up.
“Best thing is to run him into Much Benham – to the hospital there. Give me a hand to get him down to the car.”
We both lent our assistance. As Haydock climbed into the driving seat, he threw a parting remark over his shoulder.
“You won’t be able to hang him, you know, Melchett.”
“You mean he won’t recover?”
“May or may not. I didn’t mean that. I mean that even if he does recover – well, the poor devil wasn’t responsible for his actions. I shall give evidence to that effect.”
“What did he mean by that?” asked Melchett as we went upstairs again.
I explained that Hawes had been a victim of encephalitis lethargica.