The Groote Park Murder. Freeman Crofts Wills
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Crawley, the manager, I know intimately.’
‘Quite. Well, as I say, it is believed that Smith and this Mr Swayne met some time during the day Mr Swayne left. We want to settle this point, because if they did meet Mr Swayne should be able to give us some valuable information as to Mr Smith’s state of mind and so on. But we don’t want to make a fuss and wireless the boat if there’s nothing in it. So I’m to find out first if they did meet. Can you help me in that, do you think.’
Buchan shook his head.
‘Why, no, I’m afraid not. I didn’t see Swayne that evening at all.’
‘Some of your people might know. If you’d be so kind as to put me in touch, say, with your reception clerk, I could make a few inquiries.’
‘With pleasure. Will you come this way?’
A young man was working in the reception office. Mr Buchan called him over.
‘Ah, Bragg,’ he explained. ‘This gentleman, Mr Vandam, is making some private inquiries about Mr Swayne, who stayed here recently. You remember him, no doubt?’ Mr Buchan turned to Vandam. ‘Mr Bragg will do all he can for you, and if you want me I shall be in my office.’
‘Mr Swayne left by the south express that same Wednesday night,’ the young man said promptly when Vandam had explained his errand. ‘It leaves the station here at 3.45 a.m. It’s the through train from the north.’
‘Did you see him before he left?’
‘Not immediately before. I saw him in the afternoon about five. He went out of the hotel about five, and he made some remark to me as he passed the office window. I didn’t see him after that, but he must have come in some time later, for he sent a waiter down from his room at about half-past ten for his bill. I sent the bill up and the money came back.’
‘Could he have passed in without your seeing him?’
‘Oh, yes, he might have done so when I was writing or at the back of the office.’
‘You weren’t here when he was leaving for the train?’
No, I closed up about eleven and went to bed.’
‘When you saw him at five can you tell me how he was dressed?’
‘A grey flannel suit and a grey Homburg hat. He always wore grey flannel.’
Vandam produced his sheaf of photographs.
‘By the way, is Mr Swayne among these?’
Bragg seemed surprised as he took the cards.
‘That’s the man,’ he said, immediately picking out Swayne’s portrait. ‘Do you not know him?’
‘Never saw him in my life,’ Vandam declared. ‘I think, Mr Bragg, that’s all I want from you. I’m very greatly obliged, I’m sure. Now could I see that waiter who came down with the bill?’
The clerk gave a rapid order on his desk telephone, and presently an elderly, reliable looking man entered. He stated that he recalled the events of the Wednesday night clearly, and answered all Vandam’s questions without hesitation.
He had been on late duty, it seemed, that evening, and about half-past ten the bell rang from No. 78, Mr Swayne’s room. Jackson, the waiter, had immediately answered the bell, and had found Swayne in his room, packing a suitcase. He had evidently just come in, for he was still wearing his grey Homburg hat.
‘Oh,’ he said, ‘waiter, I wish you’d get me my bill.’ Jackson was moving off when Swayne called him back. ‘By the way, what time do you make it?’ They compared watches and agreed that it was exactly twenty-eight minutes past ten. ‘I have to catch the early morning train, and I forgot to check my watch,’ Swayne explained, continuing, ‘I wish you’d see that the night porter understands about getting me up in the morning, and that a taxi is arranged for. I told him, but I’d like to make sure it’s all right.’ Jackson then went for the bill. It amounted to four pounds sixteen, and Swayne gave him a five-pound note, telling him to keep the change. Jackson took the money to the office, got the bill receipted, and returned with it to the bedroom. Having assured Swayne that the arrangements for the morning were in order, he left the receipted bill and withdrew, and that was the last he had seen of the visitor.
Vandam slipped a couple of shillings into the man’s hand, thanked him, and turned to the clerk.
‘Now, if I might see that night porter, Mr Bragg,’ he suggested.
‘Send Hitchcock here, will you,’ Bragg called after the retreating waiter, and presently a second man appeared, this time small, dark and alert looking, not, indeed, unlike Vandam himself.
He had been, he stated, on duty as porter on the previous Wednesday night. He had wakened Mr Swayne and seen him start for the Capetown train.
‘Just tell me all you know about his going,’ Vandam asked.
‘I came on duty at ten, sir,’ the man answered, ‘and, as usual, I looked at the board to see if there were any early calls. I saw No. 78 was to get knocked at 3.00. “Him for the south train?” I asked my mate, the porter that I was relieving. “Sure,” he says. “Is he having a taxi?” I asked, and Morton, that’s my mate, said, “Yes,” that he had fixed it up. Then at three o’clock I knocked him and brought him up a cup of tea. “Come up for my stuff in twenty minutes,” he says. I did so, and carried his baggage down to the taxi. He left the hotel about five-and-twenty minutes past three.’
‘Did he speak to you when he was going out?’
‘He just said, “Well, goodbye, porter. Thanks for your help,” and he gave me a tip.’
‘Did you notice anything peculiar about his manner?’
The porter seemed somewhat surprised at the trend of the questions, but he answered unhesitatingly:
‘No, sir, I can’t say I did.’
‘Now, porter,’ Vandam went on, ‘remember we’re talking confidentially and don’t jump to conclusions from what I’m asking you. Would it have been possible for Mr Swayne to have left the hotel between 10.30 and 3.25 that night without having been seen?’
Both Bragg and the porter stared, and the latter shook his head.
‘It couldn’t have been done,’ he said decisively. ‘Not anyway at all. No one could have got in or out without my knowing.’
‘Just explain why, will you?’
‘Why, because they couldn’t,’ retorted the porter, who was getting a trifle nettled by the interrogation. ‘The side doors were all locked at dark, and from I came on duty at ten until the front door was locked at 11.30 I was there in the box the whole time, and nobody could have passed in or out without my seeing them. And from 11.30 no one could have got the door open without me. I saw Mr Swayne coming in. He came in about half-past ten, but he didn’t go out again, not until he left at 3.25 to catch his train.’
‘If you’re really keen on that point,’ interjected Bragg, who was evidently growing more and more interested, ‘it happens you can get some other evidence. Our electrician was working in 70 corridor on that night—that is just outside Mr Swayne’s rooms. Some of the bells had gone wrong, and it’s not convenient to have the boards up in the daytime. He could tell you if anyone came out of 78 during the night.’
‘Thanks, I should like to see him,’ Vandam agreed, then turned back to the porter. ‘By the way, can you tell me who drove the taxi that night?’
‘Jan Voogdt. He drives for Gresham Bros. of ’sGravenhagen Street.’
The porter was dismissed in his turn, and the electrician entered. Him Vandam approached rather differently, asking him to give a list of all the people whom he could remember having passed through the corridor on that Wednesday night. The man would have made an ideal witness, being evidently very observant and having all his facts clear and