June 9, 2025 • 20 mins
Dive into Last Drive, an intriguing mystery from famed crime author Rex Stout, the mind behind the enduring Nero Wolfe detective series. This riveting tale, which inspired the inaugural Nero Wolfe novel, Fer-de-Lance, revolves around a golfer who suddenly drops dead of an apparent heart attack on the golf course. However, the plot thickens when the death is ruled a poisoning. Canby Rankin, the country clubs president, steps up to the challenge of unmasking the killer. This riveting summary is brought to you by Ben Tucker.
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter six of The Last Drive by rex Stout. This
LibriVox recording is in the public domain red Pie Ben Tucker,
Chapter six. Mawson and Rankin both started a little at
the jingling of the bell, but it was Harry who
stepped to the instrument and picked up the receiver. Hello, Yes,
(00:25):
this is Harry Adam speaking. During the time that Harry
talked into the telephone, the two men remained silently, facing
each other from opposite sides of the desk. Harry's part
of the conversation consisted mainly of monosyllables and ejaculations. Finally,
he asked the other end of the wire to wait
a minute, and, placing his hand over the transmitter, turned
(00:47):
to Rankin with a worried countenance and an air of excitement.
It's Gil Warner. They've got him this morning on Broadway.
He wants me to go bail for him. Nothin doin,
the detective replied with instant decision, No use, nothing can
save him. Now drop it. You're done tell him so.
(01:08):
The young man hesitated a moment, then turned again to
the instrument and followed the other's advice. This evidently provoked
an explosion at the other end, but Harry remained firm
and at length banged the receiver on the hook with
a gesture of finality. The look on his face as
he turned away showed plainly how little he had relished it.
He was still young. He started to return to his
(01:30):
chair near the window, but Rankin's voice interposed, good riddance.
You've done all you could for him. Now if you
could leave mister Mawson and me alone a few minutes, certainly, sir,
and say nothing to any one of what has passed
in here, certainly, sir. No one spoke as the young
(01:51):
man passed out of the room and closed the door
behind him, and for a long moment after he had gone,
the two men stood regarding each other silently. At length,
the detective turned, pulled a chair up to the side
of the desk, and calmly seated himself. When he spoke,
his tone was easy and amiable. Go back to where
(02:12):
we were interrupted, mister Mawson, would you mind telling me
when that entry was made? The lawyer too had re
seated himself and seemed to have entirely recovered his composure.
He sat for a moment as if calmly meditating his answer.
Then moved his eyes to meet the other's gaze with
a look that would have been a challenge if it
(02:33):
had been less quiet and unconcerned. You remember, mister Rankin,
that I showed you that entry yesterday morning. The detective nodded, well,
I had just finished blotting it. The entry was made
not five minutes before he entered the room. Again, Rankin nodded,
and for an instant his eye gleamed. He was silent
(02:54):
a moment before he replied, you seem pretty sure of yourself, Mawson,
sure of myself. I'm afraid that remark is too cryptic
for me. You ask when that entry was made? I
told you. Perhaps you will also be good enough to
tell me, replied the other abruptly, Just when that poisoned
needle entered Colonel Philip's stomach. There was a quick movement
(03:18):
of Fraser Mawson's hand and a sudden flash of his eye.
Then suddenly he was calm again. He replied, quietly, But
I thought that's what you were trying to discover. It
is discover it. Then I tend to, I ask you,
but I regret my ignorance. These words passed back and
forth with the speed and crack of rifle shots, and
(03:38):
left the two men leaning forward in their chairs a
little toward each other, their eyes meeting like those of
two boxers and a prize ring. Those of Mawson were confident,
with a little excitement behind the confidence. The detective's gaze
was steady and determined. There was a short silence. You're
pretty sure of yourself, mister Mawson, repeated Rankin, at length, slowly.
(04:02):
When I do discover it, I am certain you will
be much interested. I will, agreed the lawyer. He suddenly
pushed his chair back a little and threw one leg
over the other in an easy position. I suppose I
know what you mean when you say I'm sure of myself,
he continued amiably. The legal mind is accustomed to piercing obscurity,
(04:25):
but for once I feel that I would enjoy plain words.
It rather amuses me to hear myself say that I
am accused of being a murderer. I take it that's
your meaning. Rankin frowned a little. I haven't said so,
but it is. The frown deepened, and there was a pause.
It is, said the detective. Abruptly. The lawyer's mouth twisted
(04:47):
into a grimace. That's pretty good, he said slowly. And Frank,
I must say, mister Rankin, you shift your attack in
a manner that leaves me breathless. First it was Fred
because he wanted to get married, then Harry because he
made a foolish speculation, and now me. I suppose old
Wortley will be next. But of course he wasn't there.
(05:11):
What makes you think I suspected Harry, asked the detective quickly.
Why The lawyer's eyes shifted and he hesitated. You had
evidently been questioning him, and I followed him last night.
I don't know, did you I did? Rinkin stopped, opened
(05:32):
his mouth to continue, then closed it again, And you
know I did. He went on at length. You see,
mister Mawson, I do intend to be Frank for a
moment yesterday I did suspect Fred, but I was groping
in the dark then and grasping its straws. Last night,
when I saw Harry leave the house in a furtive
and suspicious manner, I followed him to Brockville. There he
(05:54):
unwittingly led me on to another false trail. This man
Gil Warner. Warner is a crook, but evidently he isn't
the murderer, and Harry is neither. I say, I intend
to be Frank. Can you explain these two facts? First,
why did you follow me to Bronxville last night? And second,
why did Colonel Phillips sink half a million in United
(06:15):
traffic after warning his nephew to keep out of it.
The lawyer's eyes were on a paperweight on his desk
as he turned it over and back again, with long
white fingers that seemed, somehow without actually trembling, to lack
a little in steadiness. At length, he looked up, what
makes you think I followed you to Brockville last night?
(06:36):
I don't think you did. I know it well, you're mistaken.
I followed Harry. The fact that you were between us
was none of my choosing the boys. My client my
ward in a way now, and I knew he was
mixed up with this warner and your excursion into the woods.
The lawyer frowned, You know, I don't relish this questioning,
(06:57):
mister Lincoln. I submit to it as a matter of courtesy. Oh,
you stretched the balands yourself. Naturally, I didn't want the
boy to know I was trailing him about the country
at night. So you ran and hid in the woods.
I yes, I ran and hid in the woods. Was
Rankin's shifting movement, one of surprise. At this admission. His
(07:19):
face remained expressionless. Through the open window came a faint,
rustling sound, rapid and rhythmical. It was Harry returned to
his task of polishing his dead uncle's golf clubs, and
the deal in United Traffic asked the detective. Mawson frowned
A little, it seems to me, he observed, slowly. Let
(07:40):
you forget. You are asking a lawyer for confidential information
of his client. I am the other agreed you may
withhold it if you choose. And not only that, but
you are asking for information I do not happen to possess.
My client instructed me to invest a certain amount in
a certain stock, and I obeyed. Have you the order
(08:04):
or a check or draft to cover it? At that,
the lawyer rose to his feet with a violent push
of his chair. Mister Rankin, you are going too far,
he exclaimed, angrily. I have borne your insinuations. You may
refuse to answer whenever you choose, was the tranquil reply.
There is only one answer to an insult, and then
(08:27):
you do refuse. Their eyes met, and all at once
Fraser Mawson was calm again. He resumed his seat. There
was a new air about him as he did so,
an air of resolve that seemed to have in it
something of bravado, and it was reflected in his voice
as he spoke No to both questions. You do not
(08:49):
understand the nature of the relations between Colonel Phillips and myself.
It has been ten years and more since he gave
me any kind of an order. In writing. That statement
may be verified in a hundred ways. I had his
power of attorney, and I myself drew all checks against
his account in the National Park Bank. His personal account,
of course, was separate. I handled all his business speculations, investments,
(09:14):
everything directly, subject of course, to his advice and instructions,
which were always verbal. The United Traffic deal was handled
the same as many others. He simply instructed me to
take on a certain amount of that stock, and I
did so, And when he finally told me to unload,
I obeyed. That was last Wednesday. The loss was the
figure I showed you yesterday. In this book. The lawyer
(09:35):
laid his hand on a loose leaf volume bound in
leather and canvas on the desk. There was a moment's silence.
Ah see, observed rank In at length, slowly. Carson trusted
you implicitly, then he did, and he has paid for it.
(09:58):
There was no resentment, almost no feeling in the smile
with which the lawyer met this remark, and there was
even a touch of indifferent condescension in his tone when
he spoke after a moment. If you choose to think
he has paid for it, mister Rankin, I shan't argue
about it. I am even willing to help you get
(10:18):
the case a little clearer. He stopped, cleared his throat,
and went on. What you are trying to do is
to discover the murderer of Carson Phillips and bring him
to justice. Very well, it is a difficult task. I
know you have been successful in a few minor cases
which interested you. But to speak frankly, mister Rankin, I'm
(10:40):
afraid you're in a little beyond your depth here. To
get to the bottom of this will require something more
than a curious dilettantism. Why do I say that? Look
at the facts. Neither Fred nor Harry, according to your
own statement is to be considered. I will say in
parenthesis that I agree with you, leaving myself also out
(11:01):
of it for the moment. You then have eliminated every
one who was present at the scene, and you are lost.
The mystery is buried in a darkness which I think
you would find impenetrable. Quite naturally you turn from that
darkness to what you consider a ray of light. You
suspect me, the lawyer paused, to recover a sheet of
(11:22):
paper that was being blown across the desk by the
breeze from the open window, through which still came the
sound of emery paper on steel as Harry Adams rubbed
away at the golf clubs, Well, said Rankin dryly. You
suspect me, the lawyer repeated. But it seems to me
(11:43):
your ray of light is obviously deceptive, granting as a
postulate that your suspicion is just that I am in
fact guilty. What then, as a motive you accuse me
of embezzling half a million dollars, but granting that I
did so, you can't possibly prove it. What I have
just said of the manner in which the Colonel and
I transactive business has shown you that there would be
(12:06):
one hope left if you could connect me with the
actual deed. But you don't even know how it was committed.
All you know is that a poisoned needle was found
in the colonel's abdomen. You've no idea how it got there,
and no likelihood of finding out. The lawyer stopped abruptly,
deliberately seeking the other's eye, and so he finished calmly admitting, which,
(12:27):
of course, I do not admit that I am the criminal.
How the devil are you going to prove it? The
detective returned his gaze without replying By jove Mawson, he
said at length, you've more nerve than I gave you
credit for. Suddenly, his lips came together. It won't save you,
(12:48):
he added grimly, and rose to his feet. Nerve mere logic,
Nor will logic save you. I am not aware of
being in danger. We shall see. With that, Rankin turned
abruptly and left the room. The question remained, as before,
(13:08):
how the devil did he do it? Rankin pounded his
brain with it for two hours. Returning to the house,
he encountered Harry Adams in the hall with a bag
of golf clubs under his arm. The detective wanted to
know where Fred was, and was answered by a voice
from above on the stairway here, sir, did you want me? Yes,
(13:30):
you two come with me to the library. A moment
when they were inside, with the door closed, Rankin asked
them to recount once more the incidents of the Forsom
on Saturday afternoon. Again, they went over each detail and
back and over again, from the time they had driven
off at the first tea until the Colonel's second at
(13:52):
the fifth when all had ended an abrupt tragedy. Rankin
bade them cudgel their brains for the minutest recollected fact,
the slightest suspicious circumstance. Every shot, every movement, almost of
each member of the Forsome was repeated and considered, and
it all came to nothing. They could recall no unusual
(14:16):
action on the part of Fraser Mawson at any time.
At the fifth hole. He had taken four to get
out of a bunker just before the catastrophe, so all
they could remember of him at that particular moment was
a marked indulgence and profanity. He had not been near
Colonel Phillips then just before the attack as they remembered
(14:38):
it no rank in at length. Falling into silence, the
two young men began discussing the poisoned needle and the
curious fact that it had entered the colonel's abdomen. Pointing upward,
Harry appeared to hold some absurd theory in the matter,
and Fred undertook to explode it. That done, they too
became silent. Fred strolled cross to a window. It was
(15:01):
swinging open, and from the garden the hot summer breeze
brought a mingling of heavy odors sifted through the sunshine.
From somewhere in the rear of the grounds came the
sound of a whirring engine, and a moment later an
automobile rolled down the driveway, one of the men going
to Brockville to meet the officer from Governor's Island. Fred
(15:24):
turned away from the window, moved across to the mantel,
and idly began to inspect an old portrait of some
former Phillips that hung there. Then his eye fell on
the colonel's bag of golf clubs, which Harry had set
in a corner as he entered the room. Fred crossed
to it and passed his hand back and forth over
the shining irons. Mechanically, he pulled out one of them
(15:47):
and waggled it back and forth in front of him,
and then, with a glance overhead and to either side
to make sure of room, he swung the club far
back of his head, raising on his toe, and brought
it around with a mighty swing. As he did so,
two things happened. Canby Rankin leaped swiftly to his feet
with an ejaculation of astonishment and triumph. The door of
(16:09):
the room opened and Fraser Mawson appeared on the threshold. Rankin,
who had started forward, his eyes flashing with excitement, stopped abruptly.
Harry and Fred regarded him in an inquiring wonder. Mawson
glanced at each of them, then came quietly forward about
that loan, Harry, he said to the younger of the
two brothers, I'm going to town for an hour in
(16:31):
the morning. Since your friend I didn't know, hey won't
need the loan, mister Mawson. It was Rankin who spoke,
in a voice that seemed to tremble a little. He
had turned to face the newcomer with gleaming eyes. You're
just in time. He went on more evenly to witness
the lucky achievement of a curious dilettantism. Fraser Mawsen, you
(16:56):
are under arrest, charged with the murder of Carson Phillips.
There was a gasp of amazement from Fred Adams, and
Harry got excitedly to his feet. For one swift instant
the color left Mawson's face. Then he smiled and bowed. Ah,
you try to force your way through the darkness, then
(17:17):
what can I do? But Huber you quite commendable, replied
the detective grimly. I'll begin forcing my way by searching you.
You may have another of those little needles in a
handy pocket. Better still, I'll fix you so you can't
use it. He stepped forward, swiftly seized Mawson's arms from
behind and pinioned him. Mister Rankin, Fred Harry, help me here,
(17:45):
And despite the lawyer's protests, his arms were tied firmly
behind him, and he was led to a chair. The detective,
crossing swiftly to the back of golf clubs in the corner,
paid no heed to him. One by one, he lifted
out the clubs and examined the butt of the shaft.
Next to last was the driver. He glanced at it,
(18:05):
held it closer, then straightened up and turned with an
expression of triumph, but the look on Fraser Mawson's face
made it unnecessary to say anything. During the few seconds
that Rankin had been inspecting the clubs, the lawyer's countenance
had gone from purple to white. The blazing light had
gone from his eyes and left a dead despair. His
(18:27):
whole form trembled, and though his lips moved, no words came.
As Rankin turned to face him, he got half way
to his feet, then sank back again into the chair,
ashen gray limp inert. Two hours later, he was lodged
in the Brockville jail, and the New York dailies were
preparing extra editions with sensational headlines six inches high across
(18:51):
the front page. That night, Canby Rankin was explaining the
mechanism of the driver to Doctor Wortley, devilishly ingenious Doctor.
The spring concealed and the shaft was so arranged that
it could be released only by the impact of the
ivory inset in the face of the club against the ball,
and the force of the released spring ejected the needle
(19:13):
from the upper end of the shaft. Of course, at
the moment of impact, the butt end of the shaft
was aiming at the colonel's stomach upwards, and the needle
found its mark. Though why didn't it happen at the
first tea, demanded the doctor, because he was using his
brassie here. He told us that yesterday he took out
the driver for the first time at the fifth ty Mawson,
(19:36):
of course, said, contrived this thing as an exact replica
of the colonel's own driver and substituted it in the
bag staying here at Green Lawn. He wouldn't lack an
opportunity for that. The doctor was silent, examining the tiny
hole in the butt of the shaft with speculative eyes.
I don't see how you ever got on to it,
(19:56):
he observed, finally, nor I admit to the detective when
it's all Fred swing in that iron. The idea simply
struck me from nowhere. He smiled a little as he added,
perhaps it was curious dilettantism. End of Chapter six End
(20:17):
of the Last Drive by REGs. Stout
Chapter six of The Last Drive by rex Stout. This
LibriVox recording is in the public domain red Pie Ben Tucker,
Chapter six. Mawson and Rankin both started a little at
the jingling of the bell, but it was Harry who
stepped to the instrument and picked up the receiver. Hello, Yes,
(00:25):
this is Harry Adam speaking. During the time that Harry
talked into the telephone, the two men remained silently, facing
each other from opposite sides of the desk. Harry's part
of the conversation consisted mainly of monosyllables and ejaculations. Finally,
he asked the other end of the wire to wait
a minute, and, placing his hand over the transmitter, turned
(00:47):
to Rankin with a worried countenance and an air of excitement.
It's Gil Warner. They've got him this morning on Broadway.
He wants me to go bail for him. Nothin doin,
the detective replied with instant decision, No use, nothing can
save him. Now drop it. You're done tell him so.
(01:08):
The young man hesitated a moment, then turned again to
the instrument and followed the other's advice. This evidently provoked
an explosion at the other end, but Harry remained firm
and at length banged the receiver on the hook with
a gesture of finality. The look on his face as
he turned away showed plainly how little he had relished it.
He was still young. He started to return to his
(01:30):
chair near the window, but Rankin's voice interposed, good riddance.
You've done all you could for him. Now if you
could leave mister Mawson and me alone a few minutes, certainly, sir,
and say nothing to any one of what has passed
in here, certainly, sir. No one spoke as the young
(01:51):
man passed out of the room and closed the door
behind him, and for a long moment after he had gone,
the two men stood regarding each other silently. At length,
the detective turned, pulled a chair up to the side
of the desk, and calmly seated himself. When he spoke,
his tone was easy and amiable. Go back to where
(02:12):
we were interrupted, mister Mawson, would you mind telling me
when that entry was made? The lawyer too had re
seated himself and seemed to have entirely recovered his composure.
He sat for a moment as if calmly meditating his answer.
Then moved his eyes to meet the other's gaze with
a look that would have been a challenge if it
(02:33):
had been less quiet and unconcerned. You remember, mister Rankin,
that I showed you that entry yesterday morning. The detective nodded, well,
I had just finished blotting it. The entry was made
not five minutes before he entered the room. Again, Rankin nodded,
and for an instant his eye gleamed. He was silent
(02:54):
a moment before he replied, you seem pretty sure of yourself, Mawson,
sure of myself. I'm afraid that remark is too cryptic
for me. You ask when that entry was made? I
told you. Perhaps you will also be good enough to
tell me, replied the other abruptly, Just when that poisoned
needle entered Colonel Philip's stomach. There was a quick movement
(03:18):
of Fraser Mawson's hand and a sudden flash of his eye.
Then suddenly he was calm again. He replied, quietly, But
I thought that's what you were trying to discover. It
is discover it. Then I tend to, I ask you,
but I regret my ignorance. These words passed back and
forth with the speed and crack of rifle shots, and
(03:38):
left the two men leaning forward in their chairs a
little toward each other, their eyes meeting like those of
two boxers and a prize ring. Those of Mawson were confident,
with a little excitement behind the confidence. The detective's gaze
was steady and determined. There was a short silence. You're
pretty sure of yourself, mister Mawson, repeated Rankin, at length, slowly.
(04:02):
When I do discover it, I am certain you will
be much interested. I will, agreed the lawyer. He suddenly
pushed his chair back a little and threw one leg
over the other in an easy position. I suppose I
know what you mean when you say I'm sure of myself,
he continued amiably. The legal mind is accustomed to piercing obscurity,
(04:25):
but for once I feel that I would enjoy plain words.
It rather amuses me to hear myself say that I
am accused of being a murderer. I take it that's
your meaning. Rankin frowned a little. I haven't said so,
but it is. The frown deepened, and there was a pause.
It is, said the detective. Abruptly. The lawyer's mouth twisted
(04:47):
into a grimace. That's pretty good, he said slowly. And Frank,
I must say, mister Rankin, you shift your attack in
a manner that leaves me breathless. First it was Fred
because he wanted to get married, then Harry because he
made a foolish speculation, and now me. I suppose old
Wortley will be next. But of course he wasn't there.
(05:11):
What makes you think I suspected Harry, asked the detective quickly.
Why The lawyer's eyes shifted and he hesitated. You had
evidently been questioning him, and I followed him last night.
I don't know, did you I did? Rinkin stopped, opened
(05:32):
his mouth to continue, then closed it again, And you
know I did. He went on at length. You see,
mister Mawson, I do intend to be Frank for a
moment yesterday I did suspect Fred, but I was groping
in the dark then and grasping its straws. Last night,
when I saw Harry leave the house in a furtive
and suspicious manner, I followed him to Brockville. There he
(05:54):
unwittingly led me on to another false trail. This man
Gil Warner. Warner is a crook, but evidently he isn't
the murderer, and Harry is neither. I say, I intend
to be Frank. Can you explain these two facts? First,
why did you follow me to Bronxville last night? And second,
why did Colonel Phillips sink half a million in United
(06:15):
traffic after warning his nephew to keep out of it.
The lawyer's eyes were on a paperweight on his desk
as he turned it over and back again, with long
white fingers that seemed, somehow without actually trembling, to lack
a little in steadiness. At length, he looked up, what
makes you think I followed you to Brockville last night?
(06:36):
I don't think you did. I know it well, you're mistaken.
I followed Harry. The fact that you were between us
was none of my choosing the boys. My client my
ward in a way now, and I knew he was
mixed up with this warner and your excursion into the woods.
The lawyer frowned, You know, I don't relish this questioning,
(06:57):
mister Lincoln. I submit to it as a matter of courtesy. Oh,
you stretched the balands yourself. Naturally, I didn't want the
boy to know I was trailing him about the country
at night. So you ran and hid in the woods.
I yes, I ran and hid in the woods. Was
Rankin's shifting movement, one of surprise. At this admission. His
(07:19):
face remained expressionless. Through the open window came a faint,
rustling sound, rapid and rhythmical. It was Harry returned to
his task of polishing his dead uncle's golf clubs, and
the deal in United Traffic asked the detective. Mawson frowned
A little, it seems to me, he observed, slowly. Let
(07:40):
you forget. You are asking a lawyer for confidential information
of his client. I am the other agreed you may
withhold it if you choose. And not only that, but
you are asking for information I do not happen to possess.
My client instructed me to invest a certain amount in
a certain stock, and I obeyed. Have you the order
(08:04):
or a check or draft to cover it? At that,
the lawyer rose to his feet with a violent push
of his chair. Mister Rankin, you are going too far,
he exclaimed, angrily. I have borne your insinuations. You may
refuse to answer whenever you choose, was the tranquil reply.
There is only one answer to an insult, and then
(08:27):
you do refuse. Their eyes met, and all at once
Fraser Mawson was calm again. He resumed his seat. There
was a new air about him as he did so,
an air of resolve that seemed to have in it
something of bravado, and it was reflected in his voice
as he spoke No to both questions. You do not
(08:49):
understand the nature of the relations between Colonel Phillips and myself.
It has been ten years and more since he gave
me any kind of an order. In writing. That statement
may be verified in a hundred ways. I had his
power of attorney, and I myself drew all checks against
his account in the National Park Bank. His personal account,
of course, was separate. I handled all his business speculations, investments,
(09:14):
everything directly, subject of course, to his advice and instructions,
which were always verbal. The United Traffic deal was handled
the same as many others. He simply instructed me to
take on a certain amount of that stock, and I
did so, And when he finally told me to unload,
I obeyed. That was last Wednesday. The loss was the
figure I showed you yesterday. In this book. The lawyer
(09:35):
laid his hand on a loose leaf volume bound in
leather and canvas on the desk. There was a moment's silence.
Ah see, observed rank In at length, slowly. Carson trusted
you implicitly, then he did, and he has paid for it.
(09:58):
There was no resentment, almost no feeling in the smile
with which the lawyer met this remark, and there was
even a touch of indifferent condescension in his tone when
he spoke after a moment. If you choose to think
he has paid for it, mister Rankin, I shan't argue
about it. I am even willing to help you get
(10:18):
the case a little clearer. He stopped, cleared his throat,
and went on. What you are trying to do is
to discover the murderer of Carson Phillips and bring him
to justice. Very well, it is a difficult task. I
know you have been successful in a few minor cases
which interested you. But to speak frankly, mister Rankin, I'm
(10:40):
afraid you're in a little beyond your depth here. To
get to the bottom of this will require something more
than a curious dilettantism. Why do I say that? Look
at the facts. Neither Fred nor Harry, according to your
own statement is to be considered. I will say in
parenthesis that I agree with you, leaving myself also out
(11:01):
of it for the moment. You then have eliminated every
one who was present at the scene, and you are lost.
The mystery is buried in a darkness which I think
you would find impenetrable. Quite naturally you turn from that
darkness to what you consider a ray of light. You
suspect me, the lawyer paused, to recover a sheet of
(11:22):
paper that was being blown across the desk by the
breeze from the open window, through which still came the
sound of emery paper on steel as Harry Adams rubbed
away at the golf clubs, Well, said Rankin dryly. You
suspect me, the lawyer repeated. But it seems to me
(11:43):
your ray of light is obviously deceptive, granting as a
postulate that your suspicion is just that I am in
fact guilty. What then, as a motive you accuse me
of embezzling half a million dollars, but granting that I
did so, you can't possibly prove it. What I have
just said of the manner in which the Colonel and
I transactive business has shown you that there would be
(12:06):
one hope left if you could connect me with the
actual deed. But you don't even know how it was committed.
All you know is that a poisoned needle was found
in the colonel's abdomen. You've no idea how it got there,
and no likelihood of finding out. The lawyer stopped abruptly,
deliberately seeking the other's eye, and so he finished calmly admitting, which,
(12:27):
of course, I do not admit that I am the criminal.
How the devil are you going to prove it? The
detective returned his gaze without replying By jove Mawson, he
said at length, you've more nerve than I gave you
credit for. Suddenly, his lips came together. It won't save you,
(12:48):
he added grimly, and rose to his feet. Nerve mere logic,
Nor will logic save you. I am not aware of
being in danger. We shall see. With that, Rankin turned
abruptly and left the room. The question remained, as before,
(13:08):
how the devil did he do it? Rankin pounded his
brain with it for two hours. Returning to the house,
he encountered Harry Adams in the hall with a bag
of golf clubs under his arm. The detective wanted to
know where Fred was, and was answered by a voice
from above on the stairway here, sir, did you want me? Yes,
(13:30):
you two come with me to the library. A moment
when they were inside, with the door closed, Rankin asked
them to recount once more the incidents of the Forsom
on Saturday afternoon. Again, they went over each detail and
back and over again, from the time they had driven
off at the first tea until the Colonel's second at
(13:52):
the fifth when all had ended an abrupt tragedy. Rankin
bade them cudgel their brains for the minutest recollected fact,
the slightest suspicious circumstance. Every shot, every movement, almost of
each member of the Forsome was repeated and considered, and
it all came to nothing. They could recall no unusual
(14:16):
action on the part of Fraser Mawson at any time.
At the fifth hole. He had taken four to get
out of a bunker just before the catastrophe, so all
they could remember of him at that particular moment was
a marked indulgence and profanity. He had not been near
Colonel Phillips then just before the attack as they remembered
(14:38):
it no rank in at length. Falling into silence, the
two young men began discussing the poisoned needle and the
curious fact that it had entered the colonel's abdomen. Pointing upward,
Harry appeared to hold some absurd theory in the matter,
and Fred undertook to explode it. That done, they too
became silent. Fred strolled cross to a window. It was
(15:01):
swinging open, and from the garden the hot summer breeze
brought a mingling of heavy odors sifted through the sunshine.
From somewhere in the rear of the grounds came the
sound of a whirring engine, and a moment later an
automobile rolled down the driveway, one of the men going
to Brockville to meet the officer from Governor's Island. Fred
(15:24):
turned away from the window, moved across to the mantel,
and idly began to inspect an old portrait of some
former Phillips that hung there. Then his eye fell on
the colonel's bag of golf clubs, which Harry had set
in a corner as he entered the room. Fred crossed
to it and passed his hand back and forth over
the shining irons. Mechanically, he pulled out one of them
(15:47):
and waggled it back and forth in front of him,
and then, with a glance overhead and to either side
to make sure of room, he swung the club far
back of his head, raising on his toe, and brought
it around with a mighty swing. As he did so,
two things happened. Canby Rankin leaped swiftly to his feet
with an ejaculation of astonishment and triumph. The door of
(16:09):
the room opened and Fraser Mawson appeared on the threshold. Rankin,
who had started forward, his eyes flashing with excitement, stopped abruptly.
Harry and Fred regarded him in an inquiring wonder. Mawson
glanced at each of them, then came quietly forward about
that loan, Harry, he said to the younger of the
two brothers, I'm going to town for an hour in
(16:31):
the morning. Since your friend I didn't know, hey won't
need the loan, mister Mawson. It was Rankin who spoke,
in a voice that seemed to tremble a little. He
had turned to face the newcomer with gleaming eyes. You're
just in time. He went on more evenly to witness
the lucky achievement of a curious dilettantism. Fraser Mawsen, you
(16:56):
are under arrest, charged with the murder of Carson Phillips.
There was a gasp of amazement from Fred Adams, and
Harry got excitedly to his feet. For one swift instant
the color left Mawson's face. Then he smiled and bowed. Ah,
you try to force your way through the darkness, then
(17:17):
what can I do? But Huber you quite commendable, replied
the detective grimly. I'll begin forcing my way by searching you.
You may have another of those little needles in a
handy pocket. Better still, I'll fix you so you can't
use it. He stepped forward, swiftly seized Mawson's arms from
behind and pinioned him. Mister Rankin, Fred Harry, help me here,
(17:45):
And despite the lawyer's protests, his arms were tied firmly
behind him, and he was led to a chair. The detective,
crossing swiftly to the back of golf clubs in the corner,
paid no heed to him. One by one, he lifted
out the clubs and examined the butt of the shaft.
Next to last was the driver. He glanced at it,
(18:05):
held it closer, then straightened up and turned with an
expression of triumph, but the look on Fraser Mawson's face
made it unnecessary to say anything. During the few seconds
that Rankin had been inspecting the clubs, the lawyer's countenance
had gone from purple to white. The blazing light had
gone from his eyes and left a dead despair. His
(18:27):
whole form trembled, and though his lips moved, no words came.
As Rankin turned to face him, he got half way
to his feet, then sank back again into the chair,
ashen gray limp inert. Two hours later, he was lodged
in the Brockville jail, and the New York dailies were
preparing extra editions with sensational headlines six inches high across
(18:51):
the front page. That night, Canby Rankin was explaining the
mechanism of the driver to Doctor Wortley, devilishly ingenious Doctor.
The spring concealed and the shaft was so arranged that
it could be released only by the impact of the
ivory inset in the face of the club against the ball,
and the force of the released spring ejected the needle
(19:13):
from the upper end of the shaft. Of course, at
the moment of impact, the butt end of the shaft
was aiming at the colonel's stomach upwards, and the needle
found its mark. Though why didn't it happen at the
first tea, demanded the doctor, because he was using his
brassie here. He told us that yesterday he took out
the driver for the first time at the fifth ty Mawson,
(19:36):
of course, said, contrived this thing as an exact replica
of the colonel's own driver and substituted it in the
bag staying here at Green Lawn. He wouldn't lack an
opportunity for that. The doctor was silent, examining the tiny
hole in the butt of the shaft with speculative eyes.
I don't see how you ever got on to it,
(19:56):
he observed, finally, nor I admit to the detective when
it's all Fred swing in that iron. The idea simply
struck me from nowhere. He smiled a little as he added,
perhaps it was curious dilettantism. End of Chapter six End
(20:17):
of the Last Drive by REGs. Stout
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