Free In Ghostly Company (Tales of Mystery & The Supernatural) by David Stuart Davies, Amyas Northcote

private passage the two rooms both opened on to the public staircase. Mr Mortimer had fitted up his apartments with a view to both taste and comfort; he spent much of his time at work on his researches in his sitting-room, which contained his private desk and papers and the walls of which were lined with bookshelves laden with many rare and precious volumes.
    Objects of ancient and especially of Etruscan art were scattered about and several good watercolours of Italian scenes decorated the spaces on the walls not occupied by bookshelves. The bedroom was more sparely furnished, but still every reasonable article of comfort was to be found therein. The remainder of the house was like the first floor, let as apartments for single gentlemen. At the time of the events which are now being recorded, the ground floor was under lease to a Mr Andrew Scoones, an official in the Government service, the second floor, the one above Mr Mortimer, was temporarily empty, while the landlord and his wife, persons of the name of White, and the little maidservant occupied the top floor.
    Mr Mortimer’s life was one of great regularity. He was in the habit of being called precisely at eight in the morning by White, and then immediately repaired to his bathroom. In his absence White set out his clothes, and brought up to the bedroom a tray with the materials for Mr Mortimer’s rather slender breakfast, which he partook of in his bedroom. While he was thus breakfasting and completing his toilet , the sitting-room was tidied up and made ready for the day and thither he would repair to attend to his correspondence and to read his newspaper. If he were occupied in any special research or writing he would then devote himself for a time to that, otherwise he usually proceeded to his Club, the Megatherium, where he spent a large part of his waking hours. Here he lunched, if not engaged elsewhere for that meal, and then passed the afternoon in various ways, returning to his rooms at about seven, to array himself for the evening, which was passed either in some social function or at the Club. Normally he returned to his rooms shortly after eleven and proceeded forthwith to bed. This programme was maintained on Sundays and weekdays, winter and summer, varied only by an annual excursion from London, either on a round of visits or quietly to some watering-place. No life more calm or open can be imagined; there appeared to be no room in it for secrets and certainly if Mr Mortimer possessed any they were closely guarded.
    Such was the man, and such was the existence that was cut short by a mysterious tragedy on the night of July 16–17 in the year 18— . The story of this tragedy so far as it was revealed at the time now requires to be told.
    The first sign of any unusual disturbance in Mr Mortimer’s regular form of life was noted by a waiter at the Megatherium – one George Robbins. This man was the regular attendant on the little table in the cosy corner of the dining-room at which Mr Mortimer always sat. He appeared in the box at the Coroner’s inquest and testified that on the evening of July 10th Mr Mortimer was dining alone; he appeared to be out of spirits and ate but little. Opposite to his seat at the little table was another chair, but this was unoccupied and no place was set in front of it. Towards the end of dinner, Robbins was astonished to see Mr Mortimer rise from his chair and move in what the witness described as a ‘threatening kind of way’, round the table towards the empty chair. Suddenly he stopped, leaned heavily against the table and appeared to be about to faint. Robbins came quickly to him and asked if he was ill. ‘Only a turn, Robbins,’ answered Mr Mortimer. ‘Get me a glass of brandy,’ Robbins brought it, and found Mr Mortimer already looking better: he drank the brandy and then said, ‘Take that chair away’, pointing to the vacant one, ‘and never put it there again unless I have someone to dine with