# Simon/Chapter 17

XVII
A SUGGESTION
Next morning Simon Rattar was again informed that Mr. Cromarty of Stanesland wished to see him, and again the announcement seemed to be unwelcome. He was silent for several seconds before answering, and when he allowed Mr. Cromarty to be shown in, it was with an air which suggested the getting over a distasteful business as soon as possible.
"Well, Mr. Cromarty?" he grunted brusquely.
Mr. Cromarty never beat about the bush.
"I've come to see you about this scandalous story that's going round."
The lawyer glanced at the papers he had been busy with, as if to indicate that they were of more importance than scandals.
"What story?" he enquired.
"That Sir Malcolm and Miss Farmond were concerned in Sir Reginald's murder."
There was something compelling in Ned's directness. Simon pushed aside the papers and looked at him fixedly.
"Oh," he said. "They say that, do they?"
"Haven't you heard?"
Simon's grunt was non-committal.
"Well anyway, this derned story is going ​about, and something's got to be done to stop it."
"What do you suggest?"
"Are you still working the case for all you know how?"
Simon seemed to resent this enquiry a little.
"I am the Procurator Fiscal. The police make the actual enquiries. They have done everything they could."
"'They have done'? Do you mean that they have stopped looking for the murderer?"
"Certainly not. They are still enquiring; not that it is likely to be much further use."
There seemed to be a sardonic note in his last words that deepened Cromarty's frown and kindled his eye.
"You mean to suggest that any conclusion has been reached?"
"Nothing is absolutely certain," said Simon.
Again the accent on the "absolutely" seemed to rouse his visitor's ire.
"You believe this story, do you?"
"If I believed it, I should order an arrest. I have just told you nothing is absolutely certain."
"Look here," said Cromarty, "I don't want to crab Superintendent Sutherland or his men, but you want to get somebody better than them on to this job."
Though the Procurator Fiscal kept his feelings well in hand, it was evident that this suggestion struck him more unfavourably than anything his visitor had said yet. He even seemed for one instant to be a little startled by its audacity.
​"I disagree," he muttered.
"Now don't you take offence, Mr. Rattar," said Ned with a sudden smile. "I'm not aiming this at you, but, hang it, you know as well as I do that Sutherland is no great shakes at detection. They are all just country bobbies. What we want is a London detective."
Simon seemed to have recovered his equanimity during this speech. He shook his head emphatically, but his voice was as dispassionately brusque as ever.
"London detective? Much over-rated people, I assure you. No use in a case of this kind."
"The very kind of case a real copper-bottomed expert would be some use in!"
"You are thinking of detectives in stories, Mr. Cromarty. The real men are no better than Sutherland—not a bit. I believe in Sutherland. Better man than he looks. Very shrewd, most painstaking. Couldn't have a better man. Useless expense getting a man from London."
"Don't you trouble about the expense, Mr. Rattar. That can be arranged all right. I want a first class man engaged."
The sudden glance which the lawyer shot at him, struck Ned as unusual in his experience of Simon Rattar. He appeared to be startled again, and yet it was not mere annoyance that seemed to show for the fraction of a second in his eye. And then the next instant the man's gaze was as cold and steady as ever. He pursed his lips and considered his answer in silence before he spoke.
​"You are a member of the family, Mr. Cromarty; the actual head of it, in fact, I believe."
"Going by pedigrees, I believe I am, but being a member is reason enough for my wanting to get daylight through this business—and seeing somebody swing for it!"
"What if you made things worse?"
"Worse! How could they be?"
"Mr. Cromarty, I am the Procurator Fiscal in charge of this case. But I am also lawyer and factor to the Cromarty family, and my father was before me. If there was evidence enough—clear and proper evidence—to convict any person of this crime, it would be my duty as Procurator Fiscal to convict them. But there is no definite evidence, as you know yourself. All we can do, if we push this matter too far, is to make a family scandal public. Are you as the head of the Cromarty family, and I as their factor, to do this?"
It was difficult to judge with what feelings Ned Cromarty heard this deliberate statement and appeal. His mouth was as hard as the lawyer's and his eye revealed nothing.
"Then you propose to hush the thing up?"
"I said nothing about hushing up. I propose to wait till I get some evidence, Mr. Cromarty. It is a little difficult perhaps for a layman to realise what evidence means, but I can tell you—and any lawyer, or any detective, would tell you—we have nothing that can be called evidence yet."
"And you won't get any till you call in somebody a cut above Sutherland."
​"The scent is too cold by this time—"
"Who let it cool?" interrupted Ned.
For a moment the lawyer's eyes looked unpleasant.
"Every effort was made to find a clue; by yourself as well as by the police. And let me tell you, Mr. Cromarty, that our efforts have not been as fruitless as you seem to think."
"What have we discovered?"
"In the first place that there was no robbery committed and no sign of anybody having entered the house from the outside."
Ned shook his head.
"That's a lot too strong. I believe the man did come in by the window."
"You admit there is no proof?"
"Sure," said Ned candidly. "I quite admit there is no proof of anything—yet."
"No robbery, no evidence of anyone having come in by the window—"
"No proof," corrected Ned. "I maintain that the window being unsnibbed and that mud on the floor and the table near the window being upset is evidence; but not proof positive."
Simon's patience had by this time become exemplary. His only wish seemed to be to convince by irresistible argument this obstinate objector. It struck the visitor, moreover, that in this effort the lawyer was displaying a fluency not at all characteristic of silent Simon.
"Well, let us leave it at that. Suppose there be a possibility that entry was actually made by ​the window. It is a bare possibility against the obvious and easy entrance by the door,—near which, remember, the body was found. Then, as I have pointed out, there was no robbery, and not a trace has been found of anybody outside that house with a motive for the crime."
"Except me."
"Unless you care to except yourself. But neither you nor the police have found any bad characters in the place."
"That's true enough," Ned admitted reluctantly.
"On the other hand, there were within the house two people with a very strong motive for committing the crime."
"I deny that!" cried Ned with a sudden gleam of ferocity in his eye that seemed to disconcert the lawyer.
"Deny it? You can scarcely deny that two young people, in love with one another and secretly engaged, with no money, and no chance of getting married, stood to gain everything they wanted by a death that gave them freedom to marry, a baronetcy, a thousand a year, and two thousand in cash besides?"
"Damn it, Mr. Rattar, is the fact that a farmer benefits by a shower any evidence that he has turned on the rain?"
"I have repeatedly said, Mr. Cromarty, that there is no definite evidence to convict anybody. But nothing would have been easier than making an end of Sir Reginald Cromarty, to anybody ​inside that house whom he would never suspect till they struck the blow. All the necessary conditions are fulfilled by this view of the case, whereas every other view—every other view, mind you, Mr. Cromarty—is confronted with these difficulties:—no robbery, no definite evidence of entry, no explanation of Sir Reginald's extraordinary silence when the man appeared, no bad characters in the neighbourhood, and, above all, no motive."
At the end of this speech Simon shut his mouth tight and leaned back in his chair. For a moment it seemed as though Ned Cromarty was impressed by the lawyer's view of the case. But when he replied, his voice, though deliberate had a fighting ring in it, and his single eye, a fighting light.
"Then you propose to leave this young couple under the most damnable cloud of suspicion that a man and a woman could lie—under simply leave 'em there, and let that be the end of it?"
Simon seemed to be divided between distaste for this way of putting the case, and anxiety still to convince his visitor.
"I propose to avoid the painful family scandal which further disclosures and more publicity would almost certainly bring about; so long as I am justified as Procurator Fiscal in taking this course. And until I get more evidence, I am not only justified but forced to take this course."
Ned suddenly jumped to his feet.
"I'm no lawyer," said he, "but to me you seem to be arguing in the damnedest circle I ever met. ​You won't do anything because you can't get more evidence. And you won't look for more evidence because you don't want to do anything."
There was more than a hint of temper in Simon's eye and his answer was rapped out sharply.
"I certainly do not want to cause a family scandal. I haven't said all I could say about Sir Malcolm if I were pressed."
"Why not?"
"I've told you. Suspicion is not evidence, but if I do get evidence, those who will suffer by it had better beware!"
Ned turned at the door and surveyed him with a cool and caustic eye.
"That's talk," he said, "and something has got to be done."
He was gone, and Simon Rattar was left frowning at the closed door behind him. The frown remained, but became now rather thoughtful than indignant. Then he sprang up and began to pace the floor, deliberately at first, and then more rapidly and with increasing agitation.