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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..565a639 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #55101 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/55101) diff --git a/old/55101-0.txt b/old/55101-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 5d46624..0000000 --- a/old/55101-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10419 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The White Room, by Fergus Hume - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The White Room - -Author: Fergus Hume - -Release Date: July 12, 2017 [EBook #55101] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WHITE ROOM *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page images provided by -Google Books (The Pennsylvania State University Libraries) - - - - - - - - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - - 1. Page Scan Source: Google Books - https://books.google.com/books/about/ - The_White_Room.html?id=QN9PnQEACAAJ - (The Pennsylvania State University Libraries) - - - - - - -Bell's Indian and Colonial Library ----------------------------------- - - - - - -THE WHITE ROOM - - - - - - -THE WHITE ROOM - - - -BY -FERGUS HUME - -AUTHOR of "THE MYSTERY OF A HANSOM CAB," "THE PICCADILLY PUZZLE," - -"WHOM GOD HATH JOINED," "THE VANISHING OF TERA," - -"THE GUILTY HOUSE," ETC. ETC. ETC. - - - - -LONDON -GEORGE BELL & SONS -1904 - - - - - - -_This Edition is issued for circulation in India and the Colonies -only_. - - - - - - -CONTENTS - -CHAP. - -I. THE POLICEMAN'S DISCOVERY - -II. ANOTHER MYSTERY - -III. THE BALDWINS - -IV. THE MISSING MOTOR-CAR - -V. PUBLIC OPINION - -VI. A STRANGE DISCOVERY - -VII. THE OTHER WHITE ROOM - -VIII. PROFESSOR BOCAROS - -IX. MRS. BRAND'S WILL - -X. WHAT THE COOK FOUND - -XI. THE INQUIRY-AGENT - -XII. ARNOLD AND LAURA - -XIII. ON THE TRACK - -XIV. THE NEW TENANT - -XV. THE PROFESSOR'S COURTING - -XVI. A SURPRISE - -XVII. THE PROFESSOR'S TRUMP CARD - -XVIII. A STORY OF THE PAST - -XIX. STILL A MYSTERY - -XX. THE HOUSE IN THE FIELDS - -XXI. THE TRUTH - -XXII. THE WIND-UP - - - - - - -THE WHITE ROOM - - - - - - -THE WHITE ROOM - - - - -CHAPTER I - -THE POLICEMAN'S DISCOVERY - - -"Eleven o'clock and a windy night!" might have been the cry of a -mediæval watchman at that hour on the 24th July 19--. Constable -Mulligan was more reticent, as it formed no part of his duties to -intimate publicly the time or the state of the weather. Nevertheless -the bells of the Anglican Church, Troy, London, S.W., chimed the hour -through the clamour of a high wind; and those people who were not in -bed must have decided to retire. Not that any one appeared to be -stirring. The lights were extinguished in all windows within the range -of Mulligan's vision, and the flashing of his lantern on the doors and -gates in Achilles Avenue showed that they were discreetly closed. Not -even a tramp or a cat enlivened the roadway. Mulligan was apparently -the sole waking person in a sleeping world. - -Troy was a bran-new suburb, built by a jerry-builder, who knew -Greek history through the medium of Lempriere's Dictionary. This -pseudo-scholar had erected classic villas with classic names in roads, -avenues, and streets designated by Hellenic appellations. The rents in -this anachronistic suburb were rather high, and the houses were -inhabited mostly by stockbrokers, prosperous or not, according to -their wits or the state of the money-market. There was also a -sprinkling of schoolmasters, professors, and students, attracted by -the phraseology of the place, which promised cultured surroundings. -The drainage was perfect and the morals were unexceptional So new was -the suburb, that not even a slum had been evolved to mar its -cleanliness. The police, having little to do in so genteel a -neighbourhood, were individually and collectively more for ornament -than use. The ten years' history of the locality was one of order, -intense respectability, and consequent dulness. Only in a rogues' -purlieus is life picturesque and exciting. - -Mulligan was a black-haired giant, somewhat dull, but possessed of a -dogged sense of duty, eminently useful when taken in conjunction with -brute force. He paced his beat in a ruminative frame of mind, -thinking, not unpleasantly, of a certain pretty housemaid, with whom -he intended to walk out on Sunday. Being as talkative as Bunyan's -character of that name, Mulligan would not have been displeased to -meet a brother-officer, or even a stray reveller, with whom to -converse. But his fellows were in other neighbourhoods, and revellers -were unknown in the respectable streets of Troy; so Mulligan, for the -sake of hearing his own voice, hummed a little song in a deep bass -growl. He passed Hector Villa, Agamemnon Villa, Paris Villa, and Priam -Villa, all of which were in darkness, enshrined in leafy gardens. At -the gate of Ajax Villa he halted. A light in a first-floor window over -the classic porch showed that the inmates had not yet retired. Also a -woman was singing. Constable Mulligan, being fond of music, waited to -hear the song. - -"Kathleen Mavourneen;" thought he, recognising the melody, "and a fine -pipe she has who sings it. It's a party they'll be having within, with -the tongues clapping and the whisky flowing. Begorra, it's myself -that's wishing I had some of that same," and he wiped his mouth with a -longing air. - -As he stood at the gate, looking up the wide path which ran straightly -to the shallow steps of the porch through a short avenue of elms in -full leaf, he became aware that some one was coming out of the front -door. The constable put it to himself in this way, as he heard the -sound of opening and shutting, but no stream of light, as he expected, -poured from the hall. With such darkness there could scarcely be a -party in progress. Also--as Mulligan's quick ears detected--the door -was opened with unusual caution and closed with equal care. The person -who had emerged--whether it was a man or a woman the policeman could -not guess--hesitated on the steps for a few minutes. Apparently the -officer's form bulked blackly against the light of the opposite -street-lamp, and the stranger was undecided whether to re-enter the -house, or to come down the path. Mulligan was too dense to be -suspicious, and merely wondered why the person in question did not -fulfil his or her original intention. Meanwhile the song flowed an -smoothly, and Mulligan half unconsciously noted that although the -words were sung slowly, the piano music between each verse was played -hurriedly. - -Finally, thinking that the stranger on the steps would not approve of -a policeman leaning on the gate, Mulligan turned away with the airy -grace of an elephant. Hardly had he taken a few steps when a young man -came quickly down the path with a light, springy step. In a pleasant -tenor voice he called to the constable. "Anything wrong, officer?" he -asked, and the gate clicked behind him as he uttered the words. - -Mulligan, halting under a street-lamp, saluted good-humouredly. "No, -sir," he declared. "I was just listening to your good lady singing." - -"My sister," corrected the man, also pausing under the lamp, but in -such a position that the light did not reveal his countenance. "You -ought to like that song, constable." - -"An' for why, sir?" - -"It's Irish, as you are." - -"Augh! An' is it me, sir, you'd be calling Irish?" - -"The way in which you turn that sentence would stamp your nationality, -even if the brogue didn't," retorted the young man, taking out a -silver cigarette-case. "You smoke, officer?" - -"Mostly a pipe, sir," rejoined Mulligan, accepting the little roll of -tobacco. "Is it a light you'll be wanting?" - -"Thanks," said the other, and bent down to ignite his cigarette at the -match provided by the policeman. But he still kept his face in shadow. -Not that Mulligan had any desire or reason to see it. He merely -thought that the gentleman was a departing guest, although he could -not account for the dark hall, which set aside the idea of a party. -Moreover, the stranger was arrayed in a light tweed suit, which was -not exactly appropriate for a party. Also he wore a loose overcoat of -bluish-black cloth, with a deep velvet collar and velvet cuffs made in -the latest fashion. On so warm a night, this garment was quite -unnecessary. Still, Mulligan had no reason to be suspicious, and was -the last man to be inquisitive. He had the politeness if not the keen -wit of the Celt. - -After lighting his cigarette the gentleman strolled away towards the -ancient village which formed the nucleus of modern Troy. Unwilling to -lose the chance of a pleasant conversation, and perhaps a kindly -shilling, Mulligan followed, and beside the light active form of his -companion looked like a bear lumbering in the company of an antelope. -The gentleman did not appear anxious to talk, so Mulligan made the -first remark. - -"The song's done," said he, as they walked on. - -"It isn't a long song," replied the other carelessly. "I dare say -she'll start another soon, and you can listen at the gate half the -night, if you have a mind to." - -"It's a party you'll be having then, sir?" - -"Party! No! Can't people sit up till midnight without having the house -full of dancers?" - -"Augh," grunted Mulligan; "there being no light in the hall, I might -have guessed there was no party." - -The other man started slightly and laughed uneasily. "My sister asked -me to turn out the light when I went," said he. "I did so before I -opened the door." - -"You'll be going home then, sir?" - -"Yes--to the other end of London. Is there a hansom about?" - -"Near the station, sir. That'll be half a mile away." - -"I know--I know," retorted the other quickly. "I often come here to -see my sister." He paused, then added anxiously: "I suppose you know -most of the people who live in these villas?" - -"None, sir. I've only been on this beat a week." - -"You'll get to know them soon, I expect. A quiet place, officer." - -"It is that, sir," assented Mulligan, as they turned down a narrow and -lonely street. "Never a robbery or an accident or a murder to make -things happy." - -"Why should there be a murder?" asked the man angrily. "Murders are -not so common." - -"More common than you think, sir, but the most of them aren't found -out. It is I who'd like a really fine crime with my name in the -papers, and a printed recommendation as an efficient officer. None of -your poker murders and plain sailing you'll understand, sir, but a -mystery, as you read of in them little books written by gentry as -don't know the law." - -"Ah! Incidents in detective novels rarely occur in real life," said -the other, with a more tranquil laugh. "Providence is too original to -borrow in that way. But live in hope, officer, a crime may come your -way sooner than you expect." - -"Not hereabouts, sir." Mulligan shook his head gloomily. "It's too -clean a neighbourhood." - -"The very place where a crime is likely to occur. Have you another -light, constable?" - -Mulligan struck another match, and this time he saw the face of the -speaker clearly. It was a handsome face, rather worried-looking. But -as the stranger wore a moustache and a small pointed beard, and as his -Homberg hat--it was grey with a black band--was pressed down over his -eyes, Mulligan could not determine if he were more than usually -worried. Not that he minded. He fancied after some reflection that -this handsome young gentleman was--as he put it--out on the spree, and -therefore took the marks of worry for those of dissipation. He did not -even examine the face closely, but when the match was extinguished he -halted. "There's the half-hour, sir. I must get back to my beat." - -"And I must race for a cab," said the stranger, pressing a half-crown -into a not unwilling hand. "Thanks for coming so far with me, officer. -I wonder if my watch is right," he added, pulling it out. "It's -half-past eleven." Something fell at the moment, chipped against the -curb with a tinkling sound, and rebounded into the road. "You've -dropped something, sir," said Mulligan, flashing his lantern towards -the middle of the street. - -The other felt his pockets. "No, I don't think so. Can you see -anything? Oh, no matter. I dare say--what can I have dropped?" - -The two searched for a time without success. At length the stranger -shook his head positively, and felt his pockets again. "You must be -mistaken," he remarked. "I don't think anything is missing. However, if -you do find anything, you can give it to me when you see me next. You -are usually on this beat?" - -"For the next three nights, sir." - -"Ah then, we are sure to meet. I often come here. Good night." And -with a wave of his hand the gentleman walked rapidly away. At the turn -of the street he looked back and again waved his hand. It might have -been that he was anxious to see if the constable was watching him. But -no such suspicion occurred to Mulligan. He was too pleased with the -half-crown. - -"A fine upstanding young gentleman," was the policeman's verdict; -"free with his money"--he here produced the cigarette--"and his -tobacco, good luck go with him." - -As the inspector was not within sight, and indeed would not be until -Mulligan returned to the fixed point in Achilles Avenue, the policeman -decided to solace himself with a smoke. After lighting up he threw -away the match. It fell almost in the middle of the road, and flamed -up brightly in a pause of the wind. Although it went out with the next -gust, Mulligan, in the short time, caught with his keen eye the -glitter of steel. Striking another match, he searched round, and -picked up a latch-key, long and slim and with scarcely projecting -wards. "He'll not get to his bed this night," said Mulligan, looking -towards the corner. "If I was to run after him now------" - -But this, he decided, was impossible. The gentleman, walking at an -unusually rapid pace, would be some distance away, and also in the -meantime he might have met with a hansom. Also Mulligan had to return -to the fixed point, as failure to meet his superior officer would meet -with a sharp reprimand. "Ah well," said the philosophic policeman, -"the young gentleman will be here to-morrow night, or maybe his sister -will be still up, and I can give the key to her." - -On the chance of securing another half-crown, Mulligan decided that -this latter course would be the more diplomatic. Astutely adopting it, -he walked smartly to Achilles Avenue. A consultation of his Waterbury -watch assured him that he had nearly twenty minutes to spare before -the arrival of the inspector. He therefore sought out Ajax Villa, -being guided thereto by the fact that the light was still burning on -the first floor. But he heard no singing. However, the light showed -that the lady was still in the room, though doubtless the servants--as -was shown plainly by the stranger's conversation--were in bed. -Mulligan walked up to the door and rang. With some foresight he argued -the lady would come herself to the door, whereby he would be more -certain of his money. - -The wind was dying down, now that it was close upon midnight, and -everything in the house and garden was absolutely still. Walking up -the path under the umbrageous shelter of the elms, Mulligan saw the -colours of the flowers in neutral tints under a faint starry sky. -There was no moon, but a kind of luminous twilight pervaded the -atmosphere. Mulligan, being a Celt, was not impervious to the charm of -the place which might have been Juliet's garden, so strangely had the -magic of night transmuted its commonplace into romance. But his -housemaid was expensive, and he hurried to the door, anxious to obtain -a reward for the return of the key. - -Several times did he ring, and although he heard the shrill vibration -of the bell echo through the house, no one appeared in answer to its -imperative summons. Thinking he might have made a mistake, the -constable stepped back into the garden. But he was right. This was the -villa out of which the young man had issued, for there burned the -guiding light on the first floor. Mulligan felt puzzled by the -inexplicable silence and rang the bell again. Indeed he pressed his -great thumb on the ivory button for nearly one minute. The bell -shrilled continuously and imperiously. Still no one came. Mulligan -scratched his head and considered. "Something's wrong," thought he. -"If I'd the key I'd enter and see if the lady is ill. Queer, the bell -don't waken the servants. Augh! The lazy beasts." - -It occurred to him that in his hand he held the key dropped by the -young gentleman. Almost without thinking he fumbled for the hole and -slipped in the key. To his surprise it turned under his involuntary -pressure, and the door swung open noiselessly. Again the constable -scratched his head. Things--so he assured himself--were becoming -mysterious, and he scented an adventure. It was strange that this key -should open the door. "Unless this is his home, and he's running away -for some devilment. Maybe the lady isn't his sister; perhaps his wife -or his sweetheart. Augh! But she'd not let him go at this hour. Catch -her." - -However he might argue, it was foolish to stand before an open door -without doing something. The inspector would be round soon, and -might--probably would--demand an explanation. Now that he had got this -far, Mulligan naturally decided to see the adventure through. As yet -he had no suspicion that anything was wrong, though he certainly -thought the whole affair mysterious. Walking into the dark hall, at -the end of which, by the light of his lantern, he saw the glimmer of a -marble staircase, he called gently up into the blackness. "Is there -any one there?" demanded Mulligan. "If so, come down, for I'm in want -of an explanation." - -He paused and listened. There came no reply. The dense silence held -the house. Not even a clock ticked. Mulligan suppressed his breath and -listened with all his ears. No sound filled them save the drumming of -his heart. Again he ran into the garden and again assured himself that -the light was burning overhead. He began to conclude that the position -called for the intervention of the law. Assuming an official air, he -tramped up the stairs, flashing the light right and left as he -ascended. He did not know the position of the room, save that it was -in the front of the house. But thus indicated, he thought there would -be little difficulty in finding it and solving the mystery. - -From the glimpses he caught, the house appeared to be richly -furnished. He saw pictures, velvet curtains, marble statues, and all -the paraphernalia of a wealthy man's mansion. The stairs were draped -with scarlet hangings, contrasting vividly with the whiteness of the -polished marble. On the landing, curtains of the same flamboyant hue -were parted before another dark hall. Mulligan crossed this, for he -saw--or thought he saw--a thread of light beneath a door. The hall was -of marble and filled with tropical plants. A glass roof overhead -revealed the starry night and the grotesque forms of the plants. The -flooring was of mosaic, and here and there stood velvet-cushioned -chairs, deep and restful. Evidently the house was owned by rich and -artistic people. And the fitful gleams from his lantern exaggerated -the wealth and splendour around. - -In spite of the noise made by his boots--which were anything but -light--no one appeared to demand the reason of his intrusion. He began -to feel an eerie feeling creeping over him. This silent, lordly house, -the darkness, the stillness, the loneliness: it was all calculated to -appeal strongly--as it did--to the Celtic imagination of the -policeman. - -Towards the thin stream of light flowing, as it seemed, from under the -door, Mulligan took his cautious way. Knocking softly, he waited. No -reply came. Again he knocked, and again the silence which struck a -chill to his heart ensued. At length he took his courage in both hands -and flung open the door. It was not locked. A gush of light nearly -blinded him. He staggered back, and placed his hands across his -dazzled eyes. Then he looked in bewilderment at a remarkable scene. -The room was square and rather large, unbroken by pillar or arch, and -contained only one window. Walls and roof and flooring and furniture -and hangings were absolutely white. There was not a spot or speck of -colour in the place. The walls were of white enamel studded with -silver fleur-de-lis; the floor of polished marble strewn with white -skins of long-haired animals. The curtains, drawn aside from the -window, were of milky velvet. The furniture was of white polished wood -cushioned with pearly silks. Everywhere the room was like snow, and -the milky globes of the lamps shed an argent radiance over the whole. -It looked cold and cheerless but eminently beautiful. An artistic -room, but not one that had a homely look about it. The white glow, the -dazzling expanse, colourless and severe, made the man shiver, rough -though he was. "It's like a cold winter's day," said the imaginative -Celt. - -Suddenly he uttered an exclamation. On moving cautiously into the -room, he saw a piano of polished white wood in a recess, concealed by -a white velvet curtain from the door. Before the piano lay a white -bearskin; on this, face downward; the body of a woman. She was dressed -in black, the one spot of colour in that pale room. But there was -another colour--a vivid red, staining the skin. Mulligan touched the -body--it was cold and limp. "Dead," said Mulligan. From under the left -shoulder-blade trickled a thin stream of blood, and his voice, strong -as it was, used as he had been to scenes of terror, faltered in the -dead silence of that death-chamber. - -"Dead! Murdered!" - -Not a sound. Even the wind had died away. Only the strong man looking -down at that still corpse, only the blackness of her dress; the -redness of her life-blood soaking into the white bearskin, and all -around the wan desolation of that white, mysterious room, Arctic and -silent. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -ANOTHER MYSTERY - - -Mulligan stared at the dead woman, but beyond touching her to see if -life remained, he did not attempt to alter the position of the corpse. -For corpse it was. The woman was as dead as a stone, and Mulligan knew -his duty too well to take any authority upon himself The inspector was -the man to issue orders, and the inspector would be at the head of -Achilles Avenue when the clock struck twelve. As this thought passed -slowly through the policeman's mind--for the unexpectedness of the -tragedy had somewhat dazed him--he heard the midnight chimes. With a -sudden start he recovered his wits and wheeled round. In a few minutes -he was out of the house, and had closed the door. Only when in the -roadway did his brain begin to work at its normal speed. - -"It's that young gentleman," thought Mulligan. "He said I'd come -across a crime sooner than I expected. And the key is his. Mary, be -good to us; but he must have killed the poor creature before he joined -me. Augh!" He stopped and considered. "But if that's so, what about the -singing. She was at the piano, and the song wasn't done when the -gentleman joined me. Augh!" - -At this moment of his reflection, and while he was looking anxiously -down the road for the inspector, a man came walking rapidly along, and -suddenly emerged from a side-street that ran at right angles to -Achilles Avenue. He almost dashed into the arms of Mulligan, who -brought up short under a lamp. "Where are ye going?" asked the -policeman, rendered suspicious by his recent discovery and by the -manifest haste of the man. - -"Going, confound you!" snapped the man, who seemed to be in a very bad -temper. "I'm looking for my motor-car." - -"For your what?" - -"Motor-car! Automobile! Can't you understand English? I've lost it. -Some one's bolted with the whole kit. Have you seen my car? It's -painted yellow picked out with black, and------" - -"Here's the inspector," chipped in Mulligan, recognising with relief -the rigid form of his superior. "You can tell him, and if you're the -man, anything you may say will be used in evidence against you. That's -the law. Augh!" - -The man stared at this speech, but Mulligan wiped his heated brow and -glared at him in a resentful manner, not at all sure but what this -might be the criminal. There was no ground for such a supposition, -especially as the key belonged to another man. But Mulligan was not in -a position to weigh his words, and therefore said the first thing that -came into his mind. So the man stared, Mulligan scowled, and the -inspector drew near. - -"You've been drinking, bobby," said the man at length. "My name is -Luther Tracey. I manufacture motor-cars, and some beast has bolted -with one of the best I've ever turned out. Such a flier. I guess you -police hereabouts ain't worth a cent." - -"You're American," said Mulligan. - -"And you're several kinds of ass, I reckon. See here, about this car -of mine." - -Mr. Tracey would have gone on to explain at length, but that he was -interrupted by the arrival of the inspector, who was tall and thin, -military and sharp. He glanced keenly at Tracey, and inquiringly at -Mulligan. The engineer would have begun talking at once, as he -appeared to have a considerable fund of what his countrymen call -"chin-music"; but Mulligan waved him aside, and reported hurriedly to -Inspector Derrick what he had discovered. Although Derrick was -manifestly surprised and excited by the strange recital, he made no -remark; but when in possession of Mulligan's facts--which ranged from -his meeting with the young gentleman to his leaving the dead body in -the house--he turned to Tracey. That man was listening eagerly, and -seemed quite interested. - -"Well, I surmise that's a queer case," said he, smacking his leg. -"What do you make of it, inspector? If you want to know my opinion, -the man as laid out that lady corpse has bolted with my motor-car." - -"No," said Mulligan; "he walked with me for a---- When did you miss -your car, sir?" - -"You might call it a few minutes after eleven." - -"He was with me then," said the policeman; "'twasn't him. No!" - -Derrick, who had preserved silence, chimed in "Who are you, sir?" - -"My name's Tracey," replied the American smartly; "here's my card. I -manufacture motor-cars, and came to see some friends of mine this -night in one of my latest. I left her humming at the gate, and at ten -minutes after eleven I went out to start her for the factory. Nary a -sign of the car, sir, and I've been chasing round these lanes for the -last hour. This lunatic"--he pointed to Mulligan--"seems to think I -have to do with the murder. Don't you think you'd better run me in? It -'ull be an advertisement and a smart action for false imprisonment." - -Derrick smiled under his heavy moustache, and took a long look at Mr. -Tracey. The American was fair and handsome, active in his movements -and compact in his frame. He wore fashionable evening-dress, and -looked a shrewd, pleasant man of the world, who had travelled much and -had his wits about him. The mention he made of arrest showed Derrick -that the man was innocent. Not even a Yankee's passion for advertising -his goods would hurry a man into the grip of the law if he were in any -way guilty. The inspector, however, did not think it wise to lose -sight of Tracey, and being diplomatic he behaved towards him in quite -an affable way. "You might come with me and see into this matter," he -said, moving on. - -"Rather," rejoined Tracey with alacrity. "I'm dead gone on adventures, -and this is a ripper. Wonder if I can get an advertisement out of it? -What do you think, sir?" - -"Well, if your car is missing------" - -"'Course. The man's raced off with it." - -"No," denied Mulligan again; "he was with me at the time your car was -lost." - -"Do you think the man you talked to, killed this woman?" asked the -inspector, turning sharply on Mulligan. - -"I do and I don't, sir." - -"What do you mean by that?" - -Mulligan scratched his head. "He had the key, and he came out of the -house sure enough. But she was singing when he talked to me at the -gate. She wasn't dead then." - -"Then he must be innocent," said Derrick sharply. "Do you know to whom -the villa belongs?" - -"No, sir. Here it is, and you can see that the light's still burning -as I left it. I haven't touched the body, sir." - -"You did right," approved Derrick, swinging open the gate. "Wait, we -must look at the name. Your lantern, Mulligan." - -The light illuminated the black letters on the gate, but before the -inspector could pronounce the name, Tracey did it for him. "Ajax -Villa--Ajax Villa," said he, stopping; "sakes, it's Fane's house. -Don't tell me it's Mrs. Fane--such a fine woman. But it can't be." - -"Why not?" said Derrick, looking at him suspiciously. - -"Because the whole family are at the seaside--all except Miss Mason." - -"Where is she, and who is she?" - -"Miss Mason is the sister of Mrs. Fane, and she's stopping with the -friends I was seeing when my car was stolen." - -This was a strange discovery, and Derrick looked puzzled. Tracey spoke -in all good faith, and seemed quite willing to enter the house. All -the same it was queer he should know so much about the matter. As the -constable opened the door Derrick asked a question. "You heard -Mulligan describe the man who came out of this house," he said; "can -you tell me who he is?" - -"No," confessed Tracey. "I know very little of Mr. Fane and his -family. I've never been in this house. But Miss Mason is the bosom -friend of the girl I'm going to engineer into the position of Mrs. -Tracey. She's Gerty Baldwin at present, and lives at No. 20 Meadow -Lane along with her mother and the kids. Now, is there anything else -you want, to know, Mr. Inspector?" - -"Not at present. But later on." Derrick nodded and walked into the -house, followed by the two men. - -"Oh, anything you like," called out Tracey, not at all damped by the -fact of death being in the house, "anything for an advertisement. I -guess I'll sell that car at a big figure. Tussaud's will buy it if the -murderer's skipped in it." - -"He hasn't," said Mulligan, still confused. - -"He has," insisted the American. "Why should an honest man yank off my -car? Some one wanted to get out of the way in a hurry, and he took my -flier. I guess he's out of London by this time. She can skim a bit. -Oh, I reckon she's no slouch." - -"Hush," said Derrick sharply, and removed his cap. Tracey did the -same, for the presence of death--the immediate presence--began to -sober him. Mulligan stood rigidly at the door while Derrick examined -the body. "Is it Mrs. Fane?" he asked. - -"No," said Tracey, staring at a girlish face, still and white and -waxen. "Mrs. Fane would make two of this poor thing. She's a Junoesque -sort of woman, about the size of the Venus of Milo, and the same -shape, too. This is a slip of a girl." - -"A married woman," said Derrick, pointing to a ring on the hand. He -walked slowly round the room. "Mulligan," said he, "go and see if any -one else is in the house------" - -"I tell you Fane and family are at the seaside," said Tracey. - -"Never mind. There may be a caretaker. Look round, Mulligan, and see -if any windows or doors are unlocked or open. Mr. Tracey, please sit -still and silent. I wish to make an examination." - -Mulligan departed promptly, and the American sat comfortably in a deep -armchair watching the inspector. That gentleman prowled round like a -sleuth-hound. He examined the window, then scrambled along the floor, -shook various curtains, shifted several cushions, and finally knelt -beside the body after a glance at the piano. He interrupted his -examination to point out the music. "According to Mulligan, she was -singing 'Kathleen Mavourneen,'" said he. "There's the song. Poor soul. -She was evidently struck down when singing." - -"Then the man met by Mulligan is innocent, since he was outside while -the song was still being sung." - -"He might be an accessory before the fact, Mr. Tracey." - -"In other words, an accomplice. But he didn't nick my car. No, sir. -The real murderer did that, and I guess that car's worth money at the -boss waxwork show of this metropolis. They can fire it into the -chamber of horrors along with Napoleon's cart and the baby's pram. -What figure would you ask now, inspector?" - -"You go too fast, Mr. Tracey. We don't know yet that the criminal has -stolen your car. Is the house you were visiting far from here?" - -"Oh, I guess not. Mrs. Baldwin hangs out No. 20------" - -"Yes," interrupted Derrick, "you told me. That's no distance. Meadow -Lane--to be sure--part of Old Troy." - -"No," contradicted Tracey. "The village is called Cloverhead." - -"And round the village Troy has been built, so the lesser name is -merged in the larger." - -"Sounds legal, and not quite right, Mr. Inspector. Say, your -name's------" - -"Derrick. Inspector Derrick. I am in charge of the Troy police, and -this is the first crime of any sort I have stumbled across here." - -"Slow lot," commented the American. "In our country we'd have filled -the boneyard in six months." - -"We don't murder on that gigantic scale here, Mr. Tracey," Derrick -answered, somewhat dryly. Then he looked steadily and keenly at the -man. "I'm going to trust you," he declared. - -Tracey whistled, and stared doubtfully at the body. "Shouldn't if I -were you, sir. Here's a crime, and I know a lot------" - -"Oh, you do! What do you know?" - -"What I've told you. I might be an accomplice too, you see, along with -the other man." - -"The murderer?" - -"No. The rooster who skipped with my car. He didn't stick that poor -girl there. Not he. Guess he kept your copper employed in jaw while -the real murderer polished off the female. That's how I size up -things. Well, sir, and what do you want me to do?" - -"Fetch a doctor." - -"Don't know any hereabouts My knowledge of this township is limited to -Meadow Lane, and Miss Baldwin's favourite walk across the fields. -'Sides"--he cast a quizzical look at the officer--"I might not come -back." - -"Oh yes, you will. I shouldn't let you go if I wasn't sure you'd -return, if only for the sake of your car and the advertisement." - -Tracey laughed. "Well, where's the medicine man?" - -Derrick scribbled a few lines on his card, and passed it along. "Go -there, and ask Dr. Geason to come here--the sooner the better." - -"Right, sir!" Tracey rose and looked wistfully down at the dead. "I -guess the man who did that would be lynched in our country." - -"He'll be hanged in this when found," retorted Derrick. "Go, please." - -When the American was out of the room the inspector resumed his -examination. Mulligan returned when he was in the middle of a brown -study. "There's nothing to be seen, sir," he reported. "No one in the -house. Doors and windows all bolted and barred. Not a sign." - -"Strange," mused Derrick. "You are sure that the man who came out of -the house was speaking with you while the singing was going on?" - -"I'll take my oath on it, sir. He can't be guilty." - -"Did he strike you as being confused?" - -"Not very, sir. He didn't want his face to be seen, though, and kept -his hat down on his eyes. He said the lady who was singing was his -sister, and that he often came to see her." - -"H'm! Why should he come to a house which is shut up?" - -"He had the latch-key." - -"Hand it over to me," said Derrick, and when in possession of it, took -a long look at the size and shape. "New," said he, rapping it on his -knuckles. "Hasn't been used much." - -"Might be polished from too much use, sir," ventured Mulligan. - -"The edges wouldn't be so rough if it wasn't new." Derrick pointed -this fact out. "You don't know the man's name?" - -"No, sir." - -"Nor where he lives?" - -"No, sir; I had no reason to ask him anything." - -"Well, I suppose you couldn't foresee that we should want him. I don't -expect he'll turn up in this neighbourhood again." - -"What's your theory, sir?" - -"It's early to form one, Mulligan. I fancy two men killed this woman. -The one you saw kept you in conversation, while the other murdered the -woman, and then cleared, while his accomplice led you away. Did you -hear a scream?" - -"No, sir. The song ended as we left the gate, and in a few minutes we -were too far away to hear any cry." - -"As I thought. The man was an accomplice sent out to lure you away." - -"It might be, sir," confessed Mulligan. "I was leaning over the gate -when the young gentleman came out." - -"The men saw you from the window, and as they couldn't kill the woman -while you were there, Number One went out to draw you away, while -Number Two remained behind to commit the crime. At what hour did you -part with Number One?" - -"Half-past eleven, sir. I was with him thirty minutes." - -"Time enough for Number Two to murder the woman and make off. He -escaped by the front door, since you say the back premises are locked -up. Ah! there's the doctor. Go to the station and send on----" Here -Derrick named two of his most trusted subordinates. - -When Mulligan left, the inspector resumed his examination. Already he -had looked over the clothing of the deceased. She was plainly but -tastefully dressed in black, but wore no ornaments. Everything was of -good quality, but made without trimmings. The under-linen was equally -fine, but on it the inspector could find no mark or initials likely to -indicate the name. Apparently she had been seated at the piano when -stabbed, and had fallen dead on the bearskin almost without a cry. The -assassin had assured himself that she was dead, then had turned her -face downward, so as to avoid the horrified stare of those wide-open -eyes. At least this was the inspector's view. - -"A pretty woman," said Derrick musingly. "Fair, slender, blue eyes, -delicate hands. I should think she was a lady. Married"--he touched -the ring--"but not rich, since she wears no ornaments. Careful in her -dress, but, not mean, and not fashionable either. Hullo!" - -This exclamation was drawn from him by the sight of a hat and cloak -thrown over a chair on the further side of the piano. These were also -fine, but neat and unpretentious. The woman must have come to the -house on a visit, since she certainly would not have placed her -out-of-door things in such a place and have sat down had she a bedroom -in the house. But what was she doing in a mansion, the owner of which -was at the seaside? Had the first man let her in with his latch-key, -and if so, how did he come to be in possession of the latch-key? These -were questions which the inspector was trying to answer when the -doctor arrived. - -Geason was an ambitious young medical man who had set up in Troy a -year previously, and was trying hard to scrape a practice together. He -was well aware that such a case as this would give him a much-desired -publicity, and consequently expressed himself profoundly grateful to -Derrick for the job. Then he knelt beside the body and made an -examination, while Tracey, who had returned, questioned the inspector. -"Found out anything?" he asked. - -"Only that the woman was a visitor to this house," and Derrick pointed -out the cloak and hat. - -"Strange," said the American. "Wonder what she meant making free with -a man's house in his absence?" - -"Are you sure Mr. Fane's at the seaside?" - -"Certain. Miss Baldwin was told by Miss Mason--and she's Mrs. Fane's -sister--that they would stay a month. Westcliff-on-Sea is the place. -Miss Mason got a letter yesterday. Fane was there then." - -"It is an easy run from Westcliff-on-Sea to this place," responded -Derrick dryly. "A man can fetch this house from there in a couple of -hours. But I don't suspect Mr. Fane." - -"He might be the man with the latch-key." - -"No." Derrick thought of the key being new. "I don't think so. Did any -young man stay in this house?" - -"Not that I know of. You'd better ask Miss Mason. I know nothing about -this ranche. Well, doctor?" - -"She's been dead nearly five hours," said Geason, rising. - -"Nonsense," said Derrick. "She was alive at eleven, and it's not one -o'clock yet." - -"I don't know about that," persisted Geason, "but from the condition -of the body and the lack of warmth, I say she has been dead five -hours." - -Derrick and Tracey looked at one another perplexed. If the doctor was -right--and he seemed positive--this unknown person could not have been -the woman who sang "Kathleen Mavourneen." - -"There's four of them," said Tracey; "two women and two men." - -Derrick shook his head. The case was too mysterious for him to venture -an opinion. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE BALDWINS - - -"Maryanneliza, do keep the children quiet. The bad twins are fighting -with the good twins, and the odd ones are making such a noise that I -can't finish this story." - -"Well, ma'am, there's so much to be done. The breakfast's to clear -away, and the washing to be counted, and----" - -"Oh, don't trouble me," cried Mrs. Baldwin, settling herself on the -sofa. "It's one of my bad days. What Miss Mason will think of the way -this house is kept, I don't know. What do I pay you wages for?" - -"It's little enough I get," said Mary Ann Eliza, firing up. - -"More than you're worth," retorted her mistress. "If you were a -mother, with seven orphans to keep, you might talk. Where's Miss -Gerty?" - -"Gone to see Mr. Tracey at the factory." - -"So like her," lamented the mother; "no consideration for my feelings. -What I feel only the doctor knows. There!" as several wild screams -rent the air to tatters, "that's blood. If any one of my darlings die, -I'll hold you responsible, Maryanneliza!" Mrs. Baldwin ran the three -names into one as the children did, and shrieked out to stop the -servant from going. But Maryanneliza knew better. If she stopped to -listen to Mrs. Baldwin's complaints, there would be no work done. She -simply bolted to see which child was being tormented to death, and -Mrs. Baldwin, after calling in vain, subsided into her book, and -solaced herself with a lump of Turkish delight. - -She was not unlike a Turkish odalisque herself, if rumour speaks truly -of their fatness and flabbiness. A more shapeless woman it would have -been hard to discover, and she usually wore a tea-gown as the least -troublesome garment to assume. From one week's end to the other, Mrs. -Baldwin never went out, save for a stroll in the garden. Not even the -delights of shopping could tempt her into making any exertion, and she -had long since ceased to care for the preservation of her figure or -good looks. At one time of her life she had been handsome, but the -production of seven children, including two sets of twins, had proved -too much for her. Also her second husband had deserted her, and as he -had been responsible for six children, she complained bitterly of his -absence. He was supposed to be alive, but kept carefully away from his -too prolific wife. For eight years she had not heard from him, but -never ceased to expect him back. - -Mrs. Baldwin's first husband had been a gentleman, and she was the -pretty daughter of a lodging-house keeper, who had ensnared him when -he was not on his guard. His family disowned him, and after the birth -of a daughter, the young man broke his neck when hunting. He left Mrs. -Harrow, as she was then, with the child and five hundred a year. -Afterwards a man called Rufus Baldwin, attracted by the money, married -the pretty young widow. Luckily, owing to the will, Mr. Baldwin was -not able to seize the principal of the income. But he lived on his -wife till six children came to lessen the money, and then finding he -could get nothing more luxurious, he ran away. Mrs. Baldwin then -removed to Cloverhead, and occupied an old manor-house at a small -rent. It was a pleasant, rambling old mansion in a quiet street, and -here she lived very comfortably on her five hundred a year. - -"Do you remember Gerty Harrow with whom we were at school?" wrote -Laura Mason to an old friend. "She lives here, near the place of my -brother-in-law, and is now about twenty-two years of age. Such a nice -girl--pretty and clever, and engaged to a most amusing American called -Luther Tracey. He manufactures motor-cars, and Gerty Baldwin drives -them. Whenever a car is sold, Gerty goes down and stops for a week or -so with the people who buy it, to show them how it works. Being pretty -she gets plenty to do. Mrs. Baldwin objected to Gerty doing this for a -livelihood, and only consented when Gerty agreed to drop her father's -name. She is Miss Baldwin now, and I like her more than ever. The -mother----" - -Here followed several marks of exclamation, as though Laura's powers -of writing failed her, as they assuredly did. It would have taken the -pen of Dickens to describe this lazy, self-indulgent, querulous woman, -who lay on a sofa all day reading novels. At the present moment, she -was deep in a _Family Herald_ story called "Only an Earl," in which a -governess with a single rose in her hair marries, with great -self-abnegation, a mere earl, after refusing two dukes and a foreign -prince. Mrs. Baldwin, basking like a cat in the sunshine that poured -through the window, read each page slowly, and ate a lump of Turkish -delight every time she turned a page. - -The sitting-room was most untidy. Children's toys were strewn about; -the carpet was raggedy the pictures hung askew, the red plush -table-cloth--it was a most abominable covering--was stained, the blind -was torn, and a broken window-pane had been filled up with brown -paper. Yet the room had a comfortable, homely look, and if it had not -been so disorderly, would have been pleasant to live in. But Mrs. -Baldwin, quite undisturbed by the confusion, read on with great -enjoyment. She only lifted her eyes when Laura Mason entered the room, -and then her first words were querulous. - -"How you can bear to stop here with Getty when your own home is so -beautiful, I really don't know," moaned Mrs. Baldwin, keeping her -place in the tale by bending the book backward. "Just look at this -room. I may toil from morning to night, and it never will look tidy." - -"It's comfortable, at all events," said Laura, sitting down. "Do you -feel well this morning, Mrs. Baldwin." - -"Just alive. I could hardly get out of bed. Not a wink of sleep, and -dreadful dreams." - -Mrs. Baldwin did not explain how she could dream without sleeping, but -she was such a wonderful woman that she could do anything. For -instance, she could be idle throughout the day, and keep up the -fiction that she worked like a slave. She could enjoy her life in -laziness and dirt and selfishness, posing as a martyr to every one. -Laura saw through her as most people did; but as Laura was a guest, -and Gerty's friend, she did not explain herself at length, as she -would have liked to do. Besides, Mrs. Baldwin was a good-natured old -dormouse, and no one could be angry with her long. - -"I have been out with Gerty," said Laura, sitting near the window; -"she has gone to the factory to see Mr. Tracey." - -"She never thinks of me slaving from morning till night," moaned the -mother. "I'm skin and bone." - -Miss Mason nearly laughed outright, for Mrs. Baldwin was as fat as -butter, and quite as soft. "You should take more care of yourself." - -"No, Miss Mason," said the heroic woman. "I must deny myself all -pleasures for the sake of my babes. Ah, they will never know what a -mother they have." - -It certainly would not be for the want of telling, for Mrs. Baldwin -was always recounting her virtues at length. She did so now. "When I -was young and gay, and truly lovely, and lived with ma in Soho -Square," she rambled on, "I little thought that life would be so hard. -When Mr. Harrow led me to the altar, all was sunshine, but now penury -and disgrace are my portion." - -"Oh, not so bad as that, Mrs. Baldwin," protested Laura. - -"Penury, disgrace, and desertion, Miss Mason. Rufus Baldwin has left -me with six pledges of his affection, and but for the forethought of -my first husband--who must have foreseen the twins--I would have -starved in chains and miry clay." - -Having thus placed herself in the lowest position she could think -of, in order to extort sympathy, Mrs. Baldwin ate more Turkish -delight--she was too selfish to offer Laura any--and stated that her -heart was broken. "Though I don't show it, being trained by ma to bear -my woes in silence," she finished. - -Laura said a few words of comfort in order to stop further complaints, -and then stated that she was going to Westcliff-on-Sea in two days. -"My sister Julia is expecting me," she said, "and I have been with you -for over a week. It is so good of you to have me." - -"Not at all. I've done my best to make you comfortable, Miss Mason, -though heaven knows I can hardly keep on my feet." Here Mrs. Baldwin -closed her eyes as a token of extreme exhaustion. "But we must do our -duty in the world, as I always tell Horry, who is to be a parson, if -he can pass the examinations, which I doubt. Of course Gerty will -marry Mr. Tracey, who is well off, and leave her poor ma, who has done -so much for her. But I am determined that my babes shall occupy the -best places in society. Totty, Dolly, and Sally shall marry money. -Jimmy and Dickey must win renown to repay me for my lifelong agonies. -You don't look well, Miss Mason?" - -The suddenness of this question, coming so quickly after the rambling -discourse, made Laura start and colour. She was a fair, pretty girl, -with yellow hair and a creamy complexion. Her eyes were dark, her -mouth delightful, and her nose was "tip-tilted like the petal of a -flower," to quote her favourite poet. Not a particularly original girl -either in looks or character, but charming and sympathetic. Laura had -a wide circle of friends who all loved her, but no one could call her -clever. But she was so womanly that men liked her. "I am quite well, -Mrs. Baldwin," she declared; "only I did not sleep much last night." - -"Dreams! dreams!" moaned Mrs. Baldwin. "I had horrible dreams about -you. I fancied I saw you eating bananas. Every one knows that means -trouble. But pine-apples growing in ice are the worst," said Mrs. -Baldwin. "I have never dreamed that. Trouble is coming to you." - -"Don't!" cried Laura, starting to her feet, and with an anxious air; -"please don't! I think dreams are nonsense." - -"No," said Mrs. Baldwin, producing a small book from under her sofa -pillow. "Read this, and see what it means to dream of sparrows pecking -cats to death." - -Laura laughed. "I should rather think the cats would eat the birds." - -"Not in a dream. Everything goes by contraries in dreams. Before John -Baldwin ran away, I dreamed he was rushing into my arms, crowned with -honeysuckle. But that day he went. Didn't your walk last night do you -good?" - -"No," said Laura shortly, then went on with some hesitation. "I was -away only for half an hour." - -"Where did you go?" - -"Across the fields." - -"Thinking of Mr. Calvert, no doubt," said Mrs. Baldwin playfully. - -Laura grew red, and on another occasion would have resented this -remark about the young gentleman mentioned by Mrs. Baldwin. But at -this moment she appeared to be rather glad of the suggestion. "I _was_ -thinking of him," she assented. - -"A very nice young man, though he is an actor." - -"Why shouldn't he be an actor?" demanded Laura angrily. - -"There! there!" said Mrs. Baldwin soothingly; and aggravatingly, "We -know that love levels all ranks." - -"Arnold Calvert is a gentleman." - -"Your sister, Mrs. Fane, doesn't think so. She expressed herself much -annoyed that he should pay his addresses to you." - -"Julia can mind her own business," said Laura angrily. "She married -Mr. Fane, and he wasn't a very good match." - -"No indeed. Your sister had the money." - -"And I have money also. Quite enough for Arnold and I to live on, as -you----" Here Laura held her tongue. She really did not see why she -should tell Mrs. Baldwin all her private affairs. But when the heart -is very full, the tongue will speak out. Luckily at this moment there -was another outburst of noise overhead, and Mrs. Baldwin moaned three -times. - -"The bad twins are persecuting the good ones, and the odd ones are -looking on," she lamented. "Do go up and see, Miss Mason." - -Laura, glad of an excuse to leave the room, saw Mrs. Baldwin with -another lump of delight in her mouth, and another page turned, and -flew up the stairs. Here she found a general rebellion. The bad twins, -Totty and Dickey, aged ten, were pinching the good twins, Jimmy and -Sally, aged twelve. Horry and Dolly, who, not being twins, were called -the odd ones, looked on complacently. Laura darted into the middle of -the fray, and parted the fighters. - -"Horry! Dolly! You ought to be ashamed of yourselves to see these -children fight so. Horry, you are fourteen, and you, Dolly, are -seventeen. Why don't you behave?" - -"We are behaving," said Dolly, a girl in the stage of long legs, short -frocks, and inky fingers. "We haven't touched them. I can't study my -French lesson for the noise." - -"And I've got my algebra to do." - -"You shouldn't learn lessons on Sunday," said Laura. - -"Why not? Gerty's gone to business." - -"She has not. She only went to see if Mr. Tracey found his motor-car -that was lost last night." - -"Ah! And I'm glad of it," cried Horry triumphantly. "He wouldn't let -me sit in it to watch." - -"And a good thing to," said Dolly, pensively picking a hole in her -stocking; "you started it last time." - -"And nearly ran us over," said one of the good twins. - -"I wish he had," said the bad twins in chorus. "Come and play, Miss -Mason. Bible games!" - -"I have no time. Gerty will be back soon. Now, be good children, and -don't disturb your mother. She has a headache. Besides, you must get -ready for church." - -"I hate church," growled Horry. "And if mother thinks I'm going to be -a parson, I ain't. So there now." - -"You'll never go to heaven then," said Sally, who was the most pious -of the good twins. - -"_Oh, mon Dieu, quel dommage!_" said Dolly. - -"Dolly!" cried Laura, shocked. - -"I'm only swearing in French. It doesn't sound so bad as using bad -words in English." - -"No," chimed in a bad twin. "I heard the gardener say----" - -"Hold your tongue, Jimmy; you needn't say the word!" - -But Jimmy, being bad by nature and training, had made up his mind to -say the word, and did so very distinctly. An uproar ensued, which -ended by the entrance of Mary Anne Eliza. "Come and be washed." There -was a chorus of protests, in the midst of which Laura escaped. Not -being inclined to talk further to Mrs. Baldwin, she went out in the -garden, which was large and as ill-kept as the house within. At the -gate she paused, and leaning over, looked up the lane. It was a -beautiful morning, and the air was as balmy as the sky was blue. But -the exquisite weather did not banish the dark look from Laura's face. -She gazed up the road with compressed lips, and then taking a letter -out of her pocket, she read it hurriedly. Thus engaged, she did not -see a tall brunette flying down the lane, with a flushed face, and an -air of excitement. - -"O Laura!" cried the newcomer; "O Laura! Such news--dreadful news." - -Miss Mason started, and her face grew pale. Hastily thrusting the -letter into her pocket, she looked at the girl. "What is it, Gerty? -Nothing is wrong with Arnold?" - -"No! no! What a timid thing you are," said Gerty, opening the gate. -"But I have just seen Luther. He hasn't found his car. But he told me -that a murder had been committed in your sister's house." - -"A murder!" Laura grasped her friend's arm. "Not Arnold?" - -"No. It's a woman." - -"Who is she?" - -"No one knows. She was found lying dead in the White Room. Stabbed in -the back, and quite dead. Such a pretty woman, Luther says, and quite -young. Luther thinks the murderer ran away with his car, and that's -how it's missing. He's coming round here this morning to see you." - -"To see me? Why should he see me? I know nothing." - -Laura spoke sharply, and her face was in a glow of colour. At the same -time it expressed bewilderment. "How did the woman enter the house?" -she asked; "and who is she?" - -"I tell you no one knows," said Gerty impatiently. "You'll hear all -from Luther, when he comes. But don't say anything to mother. She'll -only moan and make a fuss. Besides, Luther says it had better be kept -quiet till your brother-in-law comes up. He has been telegraphed for -by the police." - -"The police. O Gerty, will they bring the police into the matter?" - -"Of course. It was a policeman who found the body last night." - -"How did the policeman enter the house?" asked Laura. "It's shut up, -and not even a caretaker was left." - -"I don't know the whole story. Luther would not tell me much." Here -Gerty looked at her friend. "Laura, I thought you went to the house -last night." - -"No," said Laura, after a moment's hesitation. "I told you that I was -going to meet Arnold. You know that I have to meet him by stealth, -since Julia objects to our engagement. It is not likely we would meet -at the house--especially as it is locked up." - -"Did you meet him?" asked Gerty persistently and curiously. - -"I didn't. I went into the fields by the Nightingale's Tree, and -waited till nearly a quarter to ten. But Arnold never came." - -"Did he promise to come?" - -"No. I only went on the chance. He thought that he might be able to -get away if his understudy could take his part in the piece." - -"I expect he couldn't get away," said Gerty. "How awful this murder -is. I wonder who the woman can be, and how she came to be killed." - -"It's very strange," said Laura, who was pale but composed. "Gerty, -did you tell Luther I was out last night?" - -"No. We were too busy talking of the crime." - -"Then say nothing. I should only get into trouble with Julia." - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE MISSING MOTOR-CAR - - -It was not from Tracey that Laura learned the details of the Ajax -Villa tragedy. Leaving Gerty in the garden with her lover, Miss Mason -walked round to the house, eager to hear all that had taken place. A -rumour about the murder had crept round Troy, and a few curious people -were staring at the windows. But no policeman was to be seen. The -inspector kept his officers on guard inside the villa, thinking, and -very rightly, that the sight of a constable in the garden would -provoke inquiry, and bring onlookers. Derrick wished the matter kept -as quiet as possible until the arrival of Mr. Fane. The body of the -unfortunate woman had been removed to one of the bedrooms, and a -policeman watched at the door. Everything in the house was in the same -order as it had been when entered by Mulligan, and Derrick himself -took up his quarters in the White Room. Here he issued orders. - -"If a young lady calls to see me, let her in," he said; "but no one -else is to be admitted." - -"Mr. Tracey, sir?" asked Mulligan, who was full of official pride. - -"Yes; certainly. I except him. But no one else, mind." - -"What about the wire to Mr. Fane, sir?" - -"I'll send it as soon as I get his address from the lady. Ah"--he -nodded as a ring came to the door--"there she is." - -Laura entered the room, looking pale and discomposed, evidences of -emotion of which Derrick took note. To be sure, it was natural that a -girl of this tender age should be unstrung by the tragedy which had -taken place, and Derrick scarcely expected to see her other than -moved. But having regard to the crime, he was suspicious of all the -Fane family. He admired Laura's fresh beauty, and placed a chair for -her, apologising meanwhile for the disagreeable duty he had to -perform. - -"But I am sure you will excuse me, Miss Mason," said the gallant -Derrick. "I will ask as few questions as possible." - -"I really don't know what questions you can ask me," said Laura. - -"Oh, that is an easy matter, Miss Mason. However, we had better clear -the ground, so that we may understand one another. It was Mr. Tracey -who told me that you are the sister-in-law of Mr. Fane, and I -requested him to bring you round. Is he below?" - -"No; I preferred to come myself. Mr. Tracey is of a very inquiring -nature, and I don't want him to hear all I may have to tell you." - -Derrick shook his head. "I fear you will be obliged to let the whole -of London hear, Miss Mason. There will be an inquest." - -"Must I appear at that?" - -"Certainly. You may be able to identify the woman." - -"I fear not, from the description Mr. Tracey gave of her." - -Derrick looked at her sharply as she said this. Her eyes met his -fairly, and she did not flinch from his scrutiny. But her bosom rose -and fell hurriedly, her cheeks flushed, she passed her tongue over her -dry lips. All these things gave evidence of inward discomposure. -Whether she knew anything, Derrick was not prepared to say. But if she -did, he was sure it would be difficult to make her speak out. Laura -was innocent and young, but in spite of her delicate appearance, she -had a strong will. Derrick guessed as much from the way in which she -tightened her lips. But he could not conceive that she could hold out -against his examination. "Have you anything to conceal?" he asked -abruptly and rashly. - -Laura coloured still more and glanced at him indignantly. "How can you -speak to me like that?" she said; "do you suspect me?" - -"No. Certainly not. But the affair is strange, Miss Mason." - -"From the little I gathered from Mr. Tracey, it is," she assented. - -"Here is a house shut up," said Derrick, pursuing his own train of -thought; "left without even a caretaker----" - -"There was no need for one to be left," interposed the girl. "My -sister, Mrs. Fane, thinks that Troy is a safe suburb. There have been -no burglaries hereabouts, so she merely asked the police to keep an -eye on the house. Besides, she is away only for three weeks." - -"When do Mrs. Fane and family return?" - -"In six days." - -"You remained behind?" - -Laura bowed. "My sister and I are not on very good terms," she began, -"and I thought it best to remain with my friend, Miss Baldwin, while -the house was shut up. But you were saying something." - -"Merely that it is queer this woman--this stranger--if she is a -stranger, should obtain admittance into the house while those who own -it are away. She came on Saturday evening--at what time we are not as -yet able to learn. No one saw her come. We do not know if she came -alone or in the company of any one. But come she did, and entered the -house. How did she get in?" - -"I am as puzzled as you are, sir. But if you will let me see the body, -I may be able to tell you if it is that of a stranger to me." - -"We can do that later," said Derrick. "Meanwhile I wish to put a few -questions. And even if this woman were not a stranger is it likely -that she could enter the house?" - -"No. So far as I know, my brother-in-law alone has a latch-key." - -"Is there not another possessed by a young man?" - -Laura looked out of the window while answering this question. "Not -that I know of," she said faintly. - -Derrick appeared satisfied with this reply, and took out his -note-book. "Answer my questions, please," he began. "Who is Mr. Fane?" - -"My brother-in-law. He is the second partner in the shipping firm of -Mason, Son, and Mason." - -"Oh! And why does not his name appear?" - -Laura explained. "The firm is an old one," she said; "there are two -partners, my brother and Walter Fane. When my father died, the firm -was Mason, Son, and Mason, and as it is an old-established one, my -brother did not change the name when Mr. Fane became a partner." - -"When did Mr. Fane become a partner?" - -"Three years ago, when he married my sister Julia!" - -"Did Mr. Fane bring any money into the business?" asked Derrick; then -seeing Laura's look of surprise, he continued apologetically, "Excuse -me, Miss Mason, but I must know everything." - -"I believe Mr. Fane brought very little money into the business. It -was my sister Julia who had the money, and she paid sufficient to my -brother to buy Walter a share. But I have no right to tell you these -things," said Laura, flushing. "If you wish to know anything further -you must ask Mr. Fane himself." - -"I intend to. Will you give me his address?" - -"Ocean View, Wandle Road, Westcliff-on-Sea." - -Derrick noted this in his book. "I'll send a wire to him," he said, -"as the inquest takes place to-morrow and we must have him present. By -the way, do you know a young man with a pointed beard and slim figure? -Is he a visitor at this house?" - -"Not that I know of," said Miss Mason promptly. "I know no one of that -type--with a pointed beard, I mean." - -"Yet such a young man came out of the house, and held the policeman in -talk while his accomplice murdered this woman." - -"Were there two men, then?" - -"We think so," answered Derrick cautiously. "I presume, Miss Mason," -he added, "you have been to this house since Mrs. Fane left it?" - -"Certainly not." - -"But living so near--Meadow Lane is but a stone-throw away." - -"Quite so. All the same I had no reason to return here." - -"You live in this house?" - -"With my sister. Yes." - -"Then your things are here?" - -Laura looked hard at Derrick, trying to fathom his meaning. "I took -all needful things with me, as though I were going on a long journey, -Mr. Inspector. For nearly two weeks I have lived with Mrs. Baldwin, -and have not been in Achilles Avenue." - -"Have you not passed the house?" - -"I said that I had not been in Achilles Avenue," replied Laura. - -"Then you know nothing," said Derrick, obviously disappointed with the -result of his examination. - -"Absolutely nothing." - -The inspector nursed his chin, and thought with his eyes on the -ground. There was nothing else he could ask. Mr. Fane was the owner of -Ajax Villa, and as this unknown woman had been murdered therein, Mr. -Fane alone would be able to say how she had come by her death. In his -past life might be found the reason that the poor creature should be -so slain. "What did Mr. Fane do before he joined the firm?" - -"Nothing," replied Laura, rousing herself from her own thoughts; "he -is possessed of independent means and travelled a great deal. I -suppose he grew weary of so aimless a life. However, my sister -persuaded him to become a partner, which he did, after he married -her." - -"Hum!" said Derrick, not finding this reply threw any light on the -subject. Then he cast his eyes round the room. "This is a queer place, -Miss Mason. Mrs. Fane's idea?" - -"No. Mr. Fane furnished the house. My sister does not like this room. -It is too cold in its looks for her. Mr. Fane is fond of it. But the -whole house was furnished before Mr. Fane married." - -"For the marriage, I presume." - -"No. Mr. Fane lived here as a bachelor for six months before he -married my sister." - -"But no doubt the engagement lasted six months, and Mr. Fane furnished -the house as he thought your sister would like it." - -"He did not. Mr. Fane married my sister at the end of three months, -and before that he furnished the house according to his own taste." - -Derrick thought this strange. However, he did not ask any more -questions, as he felt that he had rather exceeded the limits of an -even official courtesy. "I am much obliged to you for replying so -frankly to my questions, Miss Mason," he said. "If I have been too -curious, the strange nature of this case must be my excuse. We will -now inspect the body." - -Laura's cheeks grew even paler than they were. But she made no -objection. Silently she followed the inspector, moving indifferently -through the house. Only when they arrived at the door of the -death-chamber did she draw back. "You have put the body into my room," -she said resentfully. - -"I am sorry," said Derrick, opening the door, "but of course I was -quite in ignorance." - -"I shall never be able to sleep in the room again," murmured Laura, -and passed through the door which Derrick held open. - -Out of delicacy the inspector did not enter with her. He remained -outside, thinking over what she had said. It seemed to him that Mr. -Fane had married very suddenly, and had taken his bride to a house -which had not been furnished for her. The house was too large for a -bachelor, and must have been intended for two. What if Fane had been -engaged to some one else, for whom the house was furnished, but the -engagement being broken, and married Miss Julia Mason so hurriedly. If -this were so, the house with its strange White Room which was not to -the present Mrs. Fane's taste must have been furnished for the unknown -woman. And perhaps the unknown woman was the poor soul who lay dead -within. Only Fane had the latch-key, only Fane could have admitted -her, and then--here Derrick broke off. He felt that he was taking too -much for granted; that he was building up a theory on unsubstantial -foundations. Until he saw Fane, and learned what kind of a man he was, -it was impossible to formulate any theory. Still, for his own -satisfaction, Derrick determined to ask Laura a few more questions. It -was at this moment she emerged, pale but composed. - -"I do not know the woman at all," she said, before he could speak. - -"You are quite sure?" - -"Perfectly. I never set eyes on her before. A pretty woman," added -Laura sadly, "and with quite a girlish face. I wonder what brought her -here to meet her death." - -"I wonder," said Derrick; "and who could have killed her?" - -"That is the mystery," sighed Laura, turning to go away. - -"It will not remain one long. Mr. Fane must know her, since only he -had the latch-key." - -"Yes. Only he has----" here Laura broke off and flashed an inquiring -look on the inspector. "Do you mean to say that my brother-in-law knows -something about this crime?" - -"If only he has the latch-key----" - -"You stated that this young man with a pointed beard met by your -policeman had a latch-key." - -"Yes. But has Mr. Fane a beard?" - -"A beard? No. He is clean-shaven." - -"He might have assumed a disguise." - -"How dare you hint at such a thing?" said Laura indignantly. "I am -quite sure that Mr. Fane knows nothing. Last night he was at -Westcliff-on-Sea, ill in bed. I can show you a wire. My sister knew -that I was going to her to-morrow, and she wired last night at five -o'clock saying that Walter was ill and that I had better not come." - -"Oh!" This statement took the inspector aback. If Fane had been ill at -Westcliff-on-Sea, he certainly could not be the man met by Mulligan. -"Can you show me the wire?" he asked. - -"I will send it round to you. And I am quite sure that when you see -Mr. Fane you will not suspect him of this crime. A better and more -kindly man does not live. However this woman came to enter the house, -however she was killed, and for what reason, Mr. Fane can know nothing -of the matter. How was she killed?" - -"Stabbed under the left shoulder-blade while she was singing." - -"Singing! What was she singing, and why in a strange house?" - -"She was singing 'Kathleen Mavourneen.'" - -Laura looked surprised. "My sister's favourite song." - -"Oh indeed," said Derrick sharply. He hesitated. "Your sister is also -at Westcliff-on-Sea?" - -"Are you about to accuse her?" asked Laura disdainfully. - -"I accuse no one," replied Derrick, nettled. "I am only trying in all -directions to learn facts upon which to build up a theory." - -"Then why don't you look for real evidence?" - -"Such as what, Miss Mason?" - -"Such as the weapon with which this woman was killed." - -"We have looked. It cannot be found. The murderer took it away. He -would not be such a fool as to leave that lying about. The doctor -fancies from the nature of the wound that it must be a long slim -dagger--a kind of stiletto." - -"Such as a foreigner might use," said Laura involuntarily. - -"What do you mean?" asked the inspector sharply. - -Laura flushed. "Nothing, nothing," she responded; "but foreigners -usually make use of such a weapon, don't they? An Englishman would not -kill a person with a stiletto." - -"It's not British, certainly," said Derrick, with insular prejudice; -"but a woman might use such a thing. Still, we do not know that the -assassin is a man or"--he looked straight at her--"a woman." - -Laura could not quite understand his meaning, since it never struck -her that he meant to incriminate her in the matter. She took no -notice, being anxious to learn what Derrick thought. "What is your -theory on existing facts?" she asked coldly. - -Derrick reflected. "I hardly know what to say. Let us suppose that the -woman admitted herself into the house. How she got the latch-key I am -not prepared to say. She came to meet some one--possibly the two -people who killed her." - -"The two people?" interrupted Laura abruptly. - -"There was the young man who kept Mulligan in talk," explained the -officer, "and the one who presumably killed her. Let us suppose, for -the sake of argument, that this woman met these two men. Seeing a -policeman at the gate, Number One goes out to lure him away. Left -alone with Number Two, the woman sits at the piano to sing. On the -music-stand is 'Kathleen Mavourneen.' She knows that song and sings -it. The assassin, standing behind her, watches his opportunity and -stabs her. Then he goes." - -"You forget that the song was being sung, according to your own -account, before Number One left the gate with the policeman." - -"Certainly. But the woman might have begun to sing immediately after -Number One left." - -"Before," insisted Laura. "The policeman listened while Number One was -in the room. It was the song that made him stop. I am only going by -what you told me. Your theory doesn't fit together." - -Derrick frowned. "It is hard to put the pieces of the puzzle together, -Miss Mason. Only in detective fiction does the heaven-born genius put -this and that together in a flash. I--a mere mortal--am groping in the -dark. I may discuss a hundred theories before I hit on the right -solution. Nothing more can be done till I see Mr. Fane. As the woman -was in his house, he must know----" - -"He knows nothing," interrupted Laura imperiously; "he can't know. The -man is ill at the seaside and----" - -Derrick interrupted in his turn. "I'll wait till I hear what Mr. Fane -has to say," he declared abruptly. - -He rose to terminate the interview. As he opened the door Tracey -entered hurriedly. "My car's found," he burst out. - -"Where?" asked Derrick and Laura together. - -"Stranded in the yard of Charing Cross Station." - -Laura turned quickly on Derrick. "I beg you to observe, Mr. Inspector, -that you cannot get to Westcliff-on-Sea from Charing Cross." - -"I have not yet accused Mr. Fane," retorted the inspector. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -PUBLIC OPINION - - -Naturally there was great excitement over "The White Room Crime," as -it soon came to be called. The inhabitants of Troy were shocked, as -such a thing had never before happened in their locality. They found -their holy quiet invaded by a host of reporters, detectives, -policemen, idlers, and morbid folk who wished for new sensations. Mr. -and Mrs. Fane left their child at the seaside and came up for the -inquest, which was held at a quiet public-house in the neighbourhood. -Fane insisted that the body should be taken away from Ajax Villa. - -"It should have been removed at once," he declared. "I don't know the -woman. I never set eyes on her. My wife doesn't know her, and I can't -conceive how she came to die in my place." - -"Do you alone own the latch-key?" - -It was Derrick who asked this question, and he eyed Fane sharply as -the reply came. - -"I alone own the latch-key of my house," said Fane; "it is a peculiar -lock. No other key but mine will fit it. See!" He produced a long slim -key, upon which Derrick, unlocking a drawer, took out of it the key -picked up by Mulligan. The two were identical in all respects. "You -see," said Derrick in his turn, "a duplicate has been made. I noticed -that the strange key was new when Mulligan showed it." - -"Where did you get this key?" - -"The young man who lured Mulligan away from the gate dropped it." - -"Very strange," said Fane in a puzzled tone. "I can't understand. I -don't think the locksmith who made me my key can have made two, as I -especially agreed with him that he was not to do so." - -"Have you his address?" - -"Yes. It is at my office in the city. I will give it to you. But I am -sure the man is to be trusted. A most respectable tradesman." - -"Hum," said Derrick, scratching his chin. "Respectable tradesmen do -queer things for money at times." - -"But why should this strange woman have been brought to this house--my -house--to be murdered?" - -"I can't say. That is what we have to find out. You don't know this -woman?" asked Derrick doubtfully. - -Fane was a smart, cheery-faced fellow with rather a weak mouth. He -looked rather haggard, as he had practically risen from a sick-bed to -obey the summons of the law. For the moment he appeared puzzled when -Derrick spoke. Then he flashed an indignant look on him, and grew red. -"Do you mean to insinuate that I did something underhand, Mr. -Inspector?" he inquired excitedly. - -"Men admire pretty women," said Derrick dryly. - -"I do, like all men. At the same time I am faithful to my wife, whom I -love very dearly. We are a most attached couple. And if you hint at -anything wrong, sir, let me tell you that I was ill with a cold at the -seaside when this crime was perpetrated. Also, had I been in town--had -I known this woman--I certainly should not have brought her to my own -house." - -"No! no! quite so," said Derrick soothingly. "I don't mean to hint for -a moment that your character is not spotless. But this key, sir. Has -it ever been out of your possession?" - -"Never! I carry it, as you see, on a steel chain. It comes off at -night and goes on in the morning. Only my wife could have had it in -her possession. You are not going to accuse her of taking an -impression, are you?" asked Fane scathingly. - -"Does Mrs. Fane know the woman?" asked Derrick, passing over this -ironical speech. - -"No. She never set eyes on her. No one knows who the woman is." - -"Strange! Strange! I wonder why she should be killed in your house?" - -"Don't you know her name?" asked Fane. - -"No. There is no mark on her linen; no cards or letters in her pocket. -She came out of the darkness into your house, and has been swallowed -up by the darkness of the grave. We know no more. At the inquest -something may transpire." - -"I sincerely hope so," said Fane bluntly. "The whole thing is most -disagreeable. I shall have to give up Ajax Villa. My wife is quite -upset. The affair will put me to great expense. Good-day." - -"One moment. Do you know a young man with a pointed beard?" - -"Not that I can recall," replied Fane after a pause. "But of course I -may have met such a person." - -"Well"--Derrick gave up his questions in despair--"we must wait for -the inquest." - -But here a fresh disappointment awaited him. Nothing came to light at -the inquest likely to throw light on the mystery. Geason proved that -the unknown woman had been stabbed from behind and had died almost -immediately. He was positive that she had been dead five hours when he -was called in. If this were so, the woman who sang the song could not -be the dead one. Nor could the young man who entered into conversation -with Mulligan have been sent to lure him away so that the murder might -take place. When the young man came out of the house the woman must -have been dead three hours. The doctor firmly held to this opinion, -and thereby perplexed the jury and upset the theories of Derrick. - -Various were the opinions given by those present during the interview. -Some thought this, some that, and every one had his own pet solution -of the mystery. But the evidence was scanty. Both Mr. and Mrs. Fane -stated that they knew nothing of the woman. The husband insisted that -the latch-key had never been out of his possession, and the wife -asserted that he had been sick in bed miles away at the time the crime -was committed. Mulligan described his meeting with the strange young -man and the conversation which had ensued; also his discovery of the -body, and how he had entered the house. All inquiries on the part of -the police failed to prove the identity of the dead. Tracey stated how -he had missed his motor-car, and evidence was forthcoming to show that -it had been left in the Charing Cross yard. But no one seemed to know -who had brought it there. The result of this crop of scanty facts was -obvious. The jury brought in a verdict against some person or persons -unknown. - -"It's the only thing to be said," said Derrick to Fane when the crowd -dispersed. "The woman is dead, and she must be buried. That cost will -fall on the parish." - -"No," replied Fane, who did not seem to be an unkindly man. "The poor -creature died in my house, so I will charge myself with her burial. I -have consulted Mrs. Fane, and she thinks as I do." - -"But you know nothing about her." - -"That is true. However, if you make inquiries, you may learn." - -The inspector shook his head. "I fear not; I don't know where to look. -It is a kind thought of you to bury her, Mr. Fane. Not many men would -do that in your place after the trouble you have had." - -"It's the least I can do, seeing she was murdered under my roof. But -you may hear who she is. Why not advertise?" - -"That has been done. Handbills have been placed round describing her -looks, and with a picture. Orders have been sent throughout London to -the police to keep their eyes open. I doubt if anything will come of -the hunt though." - -"Surely," said Fane, wrinkling his brows, "a woman can't disappear -like this in London?" - -"London is the very place where people disappear," retorted Derrick. -"Those who live in this big city never know how many people vanish -yearly and are never heard of again. In this case we have the body of -the woman, but who she was, where she came from, and why she was -murdered in your house, will probably never be known." - -"Well," said Fane, with the air of a man dismissing the subject, "if -you do intend to make inquiries, please keep me advised of your -discoveries. I should like to know how the woman entered the house. I -believe you saw my locksmith?" - -"I did. He swears positively that he did not make a duplicate key. -More than that, he has not a duplicate of the one he made you." - -Fane looked doubtful. "I should have thought he would have retained a -copy for trade purposes. Suppose I lost the key----" - -"He would not have been able to make you another, Mr. Fane. However, I -am keeping an eye on him. He may be lying for his own ends. One never -knows, and I always mistrust respectable men." - -"From what my sister-in-law told me, Mr. Derrick, you were inclined to -mistrust me." - -Derrick coughed. "The case is so strange," said he; "but I am now -quite sure that you had nothing to do with the matter." - -"Thank you for nothing," said Fane dryly. "It is lucky that with the -assistance of my wife I was able to prove an alibi." - -"Very lucky indeed," replied the inspector cheerfully. "Had you been -in town that night, and unable to explain your comings and goings, it -might have gone hard with you." - -"Do you mean to say----" - -"Nothing--absolutely nothing. But see here, Mr. Fane; put yourself in -my place, in the place of any man. A woman gains admittance to your -house and there is murdered. You alone have the key. On the face of -it, does not that look as though you alone killed her, else, why the -use of your key to let her enter the house? It is lucky for you, as -you say, that in full open court, and in the ears of all men, you were -able to prove an alibi, else nine out of ten would have suspected you -of knowing more than you stated." - -"I said all I knew." - -"I am sure of that, sir; and you proved--with the assistance of Mrs. -Fane--your innocence. As they say, you leave the court without a -stain. All the same, the case is strange. For my part, pending the -discovery of the young man who dropped the key, I shall hunt for the -woman. In her past life will be found the explanation of her death. I -shall let you know how I get on, but I must ask you to also keep me -advised of what you see and hear." - -Fane shrugged his shoulders and took out a cigar. "I shall take no -further steps in the matter. Once this woman is buried, and I have -left Ajax Villa, the thing will be relegated to obscurity so far as I -am concerned." - -"Well," said Derrick, with a side look, "perhaps that's natural." - -He then said good-bye to Fane, and went away thoughtfully. Derrick was -not a particularly brilliant mortal, as his conduct of the case shows. -As the saying goes, he could not see further than his nose. But he -certainly wondered in his own mind, if despite the evidence of Mrs. -Fane, her husband might not have something to do with the matter. To -save his life, to keep him from shame, she might have kept silence. -"But it's impossible," said Derrick aloud. "If he was guilty, she -would not lie. If the victim had been a man now. But as it was a -woman, a jealous creature like Mrs. Fane would certainly not sacrifice -herself to save a man who deceived her. No; Fane is guiltless. But who -is the culprit? That's the question." And it was a question which -Derrick could not answer, though he tried to do so in his blundering -way. - -So the unknown woman was duly buried. Tracey and Fane went to the -funeral, and the body was followed by a large concourse of those who -wished to see the last of the victim of this mysterious tragedy. Every -one agreed that Fane was behaving very well in thus giving the poor -wretch decent burial. Fane looked white and worn when the grave was -being filled in, and the rumour went round of how ill he had been, and -how he had come up from a sick-bed to see this matter through. Several -people shook hands with him as he left the cemetery, and he was -congratulated on all hands. Then the gates of the burial-ground were -closed, and the grave was left to the rain and the sunshine. For all -any one present knew, its secret would not be delivered up until the -Judgment-day. - -It was the press that said the last word on the subject. The _Daily -Budget_, always in search of the sensational, thought the affair -strange enough to give it the honour of a leading article. As many -people may remember the perplexity of police and public in connection -with this murder, it may not be uninteresting to give an extract or -two from the article. - -"The inexplicable murder in Troy is one of those crimes which at once -startle and shock the public. That a woman should be done to death in -this manner is bad enough, but that with our wonderful police -organisation, her identity should remain a mystery is nothing less -than a scandal and a shame. If the houses of law-abiding citizens are -to be made the shambles for unknown assassins, the sooner the police -force is reorganised the better. And again, is it not disgraceful that -nothing can be found likely to prove who this poor creature is? Have -we not newspapers and agents and handbills and all the paraphernalia -of civilisation for the detection of the unknown? Search should be -made in the most minute manner in order to prove who this dead woman -is. Once her name is discovered, in her past life may be found the -reason of her untimely and tragic death. This is the opinion of -Inspector Derrick, who has handled the case, with all its strange -elements of mystery, with but an indifferent degree of success. Not -but what we are prepared to admit that the case is remarkably -difficult and would tax the intellect of a Vidocq to unravel. - -"It would seem that the woman went to the house between eight and nine -o'clock, and was murdered shortly after she entered the door. -Certainly she was seated at the piano, and certainly the song of -'Kathleen Mavourneen' was open before her. But we are sure that she -never sang the song. While waiting for some one--perhaps the assassin -who struck her down--she may have played for a time. But the woman who -sang the song did so some three hours after the death of the -unfortunate creature. Mulligan swore that he heard the song about -eleven; the doctor declares that the woman was murdered before nine -o'clock. On the face of it, it is impossible to reconcile this -conflicting evidence. - -"No one saw the woman enter the house, although many people were -about Achilles Avenue during the evening. But in the multitude of -people--especially on a Saturday night--would lie the chance of the -woman not being observed. Few people knew that Mr. Fane and his -family--one little girl--were at the seaside; so even if any one had -noticed the woman enter the gate of Ajax Villa such a thing would not -be fixed in the mind of the observer. All inquiries have been made, -but no one appears to have noted the woman's coming. It is therefore -impossible to say if she entered the house alone or in the company of -the assassin. - -"And with regard to the assassin. We are inclined to think he is a -man--and that man who spoke to the policeman at eleven o'clock. It -might be, that gaining admittance by his latch-key with the woman, he -killed her almost immediately he entered, and then watched his chance -of escape. That he entered the house with the woman appears clear. We -stated above that it is impossible to say if the woman entered the -house alone. By this we mean that the man may have come earlier, and -may have admitted her before nine o'clock. The poor creature walked -into a death-trap. Taking her to the White Room, he lured her to sit -down at the piano, which would give him an opportunity of standing -behind her to stab her unawares. Then when she was dead, he probably -looked out of the window to see how he could escape. Fear evidently -kept him within till nearly eleven o'clock. Then he saw the policeman -passing, and then he sang the song to make the man believe a woman was -singing. Afterwards, when he had lulled any suspicions the policeman -may have entertained, he came out and escaped in the manner described. -This is our theory. The singer is described by Mulligan--a remarkably -intelligent officer--as having a deep contralto voice; so it is -probable the assassin sang in falsetto. That the man killed the woman -and thus escaped, we are sure; for only he having the latch-key could -have admitted her, and only he could have a reason to lure her into -the house. What that reason may be, must remain for ever a mystery." - -So far the _Daily Budget_ with its gimcrack theory. A rival newspaper -promptly set to work to pick holes in the case as presented by the -paper. This rival journal, the _Star of Morning_, commented as -follows: - -"Our respected contemporary goes too fast. Evidence was given -clearly by Mulligan that the song was being sung while the presumed -assassin--in the _Daily Budget's_ opinion--was in conversation with -him at the gate. Therefore the young man with the pointed beard could -not have sung 'Kathleen Mavourneen' in falsetto. The theory is -amusing, but it won't hold water. Our belief is quite different, and -we think more real. - -"In the first place, we think that the young man was the person who -admitted the women into the house. So far we agree with our -contemporary. We say 'women,' because we believe there were two -people, the victim and another woman. These two women came to the -house either in the company of the young man or by themselves. In any -case, he admitted them, since, however he obtained it, he alone -possessed the latch-key, and was thus enabled to enter the deserted -house. Once in the White Room, and the victim lured to the -piano--again we agree--she was murdered. The two assassins--for both -the man and the woman are equally guilty, though we are not prepared -to say who actually struck the blow--then watched their opportunity to -escape. It is a marvel that they should have remained three hours in -the house, perhaps in the room, after the crime was committed. They -arrived unseen along with their victim, so it is natural to think that -they would have escaped from the house as soon as possible, positive -that they would not be suspected. But guilt makes cowards of every -one, and it made cowards of these two. They waited in the room, -watching the gradual desertion of Achilles Avenue. About eleven they -decided to venture. Then the policeman appears. Doubtless to save -appearances, the woman sang. The man looking out, went away to lure -the policeman. He did so, and then the woman escaped. She saw Mr. -Tracey's motor-car standing unwatched at a gate, and forthwith used it -to fly, fearful lest she should be followed. If she went straight to -Charing Cross she must have arrived about half-past eleven. In the -crowd in the yard on a Saturday night, with cabs and other vehicles -coming and going, she would easily be able to draw up her car in a -quiet corner. No one seems to have noticed her, and women driving -motors is such a common spectacle now that no one would remark on the -circumstance. We think that the woman then entered the station and -left London. She may have escaped to the continent; she may have gone -merely to a suburb. At all events, all trace of her is lost, and the -deserted car was noted some hours later. - -"This is our theory, and we think it is a more feasible one than that -offered by our contemporary. As Mr. Fane is ignorant of the name of -the deceased, it is inexplicable how she came to meet with her tragic -death in his house. All the servants of Mr. Fane were at the seaside -along with their master and mistress, so no blame can possibly be -attached to them. Mr. Fane himself was ill in bed at Westcliff-on-Sea, -so he can know nothing. He positively asserts that he alone possessed -the latch-key, and the locksmith from whom he obtained it, declares -that no duplicate was made. This is not the least strange element in -this case. One thing we would draw our readers' attention to--the -decoration of the room in which the murder was perpetrated. It was all -white, and the black dress of the corpse must have formed a strange -contrast to the snowy desert around when the poor creature was -discovered by Mulligan. Quite a picturesque murder! Mr. Fane seems to -be a gentleman with an original turn for furnishing to possess such a -room, and the crime adds to its romance. And the secret of this murder -will never be discovered. Why the woman should be stabbed, why she -should have been lured to that strange room to be killed, how the -assassins obtained possession of the latch-key--these things must -remain for ever a mystery. But we are convinced that the crime was -committed by a man and a woman, and we have given our reason." - -To this statement--a purely theoretical one--the _Daily Budget_ -retorted in a short paragraph. - -"We will merely ask our clever contemporary one question. 'If the -woman assassin thus invented was singing at the piano before the -policeman leaned over the gate, what opportunity had she and the young -man to concert their scheme of escape?'" - -To this demand there came no reply, and the press ceased to comment on -the crime. The murder at Ajax Villa was relegated to the catalogue of -unknown crimes for quite two weeks. Then a strange thing came to -light. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -A STRANGE DISCOVERY - - -"You will have to make up your mind what you intend to do, my dear," -said Mrs. Fane to her sister, "for I may tell you that Walter and I -have arranged to make a change." - -"In what way?" asked Laura, looking up from her sewing. - -Mrs. Fane did not answer directly. She looked round the cosy -morning-room, with rather a wistful expression. It was a very charming -room, decorated in the fashion of a quaint, old parlour. In such an -apartment might Jane Austen's heroines have sat, and the two ladies in -modern dresses looked rather out of place. Mrs. Fane was tall and -statuesque, with a placid, firm face, beautiful but cold. Her eyes -were calm; she had none of those wrinkles which show the indulgence of -emotion, and an earthquake would have failed to upset her eternal -self-possession. Occupied in knitting a fleecy shawl, she scarcely -lifted her eyes as she spoke, but continued to work placidly, never -dropping a single stitch. There never was a woman who had herself so -much under control as Mrs. Fane. Laura often wondered how she came to -marry an excitable, vivacious man like Walter. But perhaps the -exception to the law that like draws to like drew them together, and -Mrs. Fane found in her husband, whose nature was so totally opposed to -her own, the complement of herself. - -The sisters resembled one another very little: Mrs. Fane was dark and -tall, Laura slight and fair. Laura laughed when she was amused, showed -anger when she felt it, and indulged unrestrained in her emotions, -though she never exceeded them. She was as open in her disposition as -Mrs. Fane was secretive. A glance would reveal Laura's thoughts, but -no scrutiny would show what Mrs. Fane had in her mind. Both of them -were plainly dressed, but Laura indulged in a few more trimmings than -her sister. Mrs. Fane might have been a lady abbess, from the severity -of her black garb. And a very good abbess she would have made, only -the nuns under her charge would have been controlled with a rod of -iron. She had no weaknesses herself, and had no patience with them in -others. Not even pain appealed to her, for she had never been ill. -Toothache was unknown to her; headaches she had never experienced; and -she seemed to move amongst less favoured mortals like a goddess, -majestic, unfeeling, and far removed from the engaging weaknesses of -human nature. Mrs. Fane, by reason of this abnormal severity, was not -popular. - -To make a happy marriage, either the man or the woman must rule. If -both have strong wills, separation or divorce is the only remedy to -avert an unhappy life. If the man is strong, he controls the woman; if -the woman has the will, she guides the man; and thus with no divided -kingdom, the domestic life can be fairly happy, in some cases -completely so. - -When Mrs. Fane--Julia Mason she was then--determined to marry Walter, -she also determined to have her own way. He was as weak as she was -strong, therefore he did exactly as she ordered him. But she always -gave him the outward rule, and, so to speak, only instructed him -behind the scenes how he was to act on the stage of the world. People -said that Mr. and Mrs. Fane were a happy pair, but they never knew the -real reason of such happiness. Mrs. Fane concealed the iron hand in a -velvet glove. Occasionally Walter proved restive, but she always -managed by a quiet determination to bring him again into subjection. -It may also be stated that she cherished a secret contempt that he -should thus give in to her, although such yielding formed the basis of -her ideal marriage. Only Laura knew how Mrs. Fane despised her -husband; but since she was living with the pair, she was wise enough -to keep this knowledge secret. Otherwise, Mrs. Fane would have made -herself disagreeable, and she had a large capacity for rendering the -house too hot for any one she disliked. Witness the expulsion of two -servants who had served Fane when he was a bachelor, and who were -discharged in the most polite way two months after Mrs. Fane came to -live at Ajax Villa. - -This domestic Boadicea looked round the room vaguely, and then brought -her eyes back to the pretty, anxious face of Laura. She had a poor -opinion of Laura, and always strove to impose her will on her. But -Laura had her own ideas of life, and resented Julia's interference. -There was but little love between the sisters, and this was entirely -due to Julia's domineering temper. Not that the two ever fought. Mrs. -Fane would not fight. She simply held out till she got her own way, -and thus was usually successful with Walter. But Laura, made of -sterner stuff, managed to hold her own, a firm quality which annoyed -Julia, who liked people to grovel at her feet. She was a domestic -tyrant of the worst. - -Outside the sun was shining, and its rays penetrated even into the -room. Mrs. Fane sat in a flood of gold, but was as unwarmed thereby as -the statue of a goddess. Even the tragedy which had happened lately -left but few traces of annoyance on her placid brow. Now that the -unknown woman was buried, and the papers had ceased to interest -themselves in the matter, she apparently dismissed it from her mind. -Secretly she was annoyed with Laura because the girl had insisted on -changing her bedroom. "I am not going to sleep in a room in which that -body was laid out," said Laura. And it was on this hint that Mrs. Fane -framed her reply. - -"I wonder at you asking in what way we intend to make a change," she -said in her cold voice, "seeing that you changed your room." - -"Oh; you find the villa disagreeable after this tragedy?" - -"I do not. So far as I am concerned, I should not mind living here for -the rest of my days. I like the house and the neighbourhood, and -especially do I like the White Room----" - -"The very place where the poor creature was killed said Laura, with a -shudder, which made Mrs. Fane smile. - -"My dear, what does that matter? Death is death, however it comes, as -you ought to know. If a murder took place in every room in the house I -should not mind." - -"Would you like it to take place in the nursery?" asked Laura. - -Here she touched Mrs. Fane on a raw spot. If there was one thing the -self-possessed woman loved it was her little daughter. That she was -annoyed showed itself by the slight flush which crimsoned her face. - -"You shouldn't say such things, my dear," she said in icy tones; "of -course I except the nursery. An atmosphere of crime would not be -conducive to the health of Minnie. But as I was saying, Walter wishes -to give up the house." - -"You said nothing of the sort," said Laura, irritated. - -"I say it now, then. Walter wishes to go abroad." - -"What about the business?" - -Mrs. Fane raised her perfectly marked eyebrows. "Well, what about it, -Laura? You know Walter is often away for weeks yachting. Times and -seasons make no difference to him, so far as his love of the sea is -concerned. Frederick says"--Frederick Mason was her brother--"that -Walter is of very little use in the office." - -"I wonder he keeps him, then," said Laura. - -"There is no question of keeping," replied Mrs. Fane serenely; "you -speak of Walter as though he were an office-boy. He is a partner, -remember, and I do his business for him." - -"I don't quite understand." - -"It's very simple, Laura. Walter, as you know, brought very little -money into the business. He seems to have spent what he had, or the -greater part, in furnishing this house for me." - -"It was furnished before you and he became engaged." - -"That is true. But I saw what was coming a long time before Walter -asked me to be his wife. He hinted that he was furnishing a house -here, and how he was spending money on it. I then knew that he -intended to make me his wife, and I determined to accept him. Not that -I loved him over much," added Mrs. Fane quietly, "but I was anxious to -have a say in the business. Frederick is a fool; and unless the -business is looked after, it will go to ruin. As the wife of one of -the partners, I am able to take a part in the conduct of the -business." - -"You could have done so without marrying," said Laura. - -Mrs. Fane shook her head. - -"No. Father left you an income of five hundred a year, but he left me -much more, because he knew that I would make good use of it. The money -which came to me, and your principal, were not invested in the -business. I asked Frederick to let me become his partner. He refused. -Then I engaged myself to Walter, who became a partner with my money. -Frederick is willing, seeing that Walter is not a good business man, -to let me act for my husband. I dare say he could have permitted this -without the marriage, but he would not for some reason. However, you -know now why I married Walter. Besides, Walter is a fool, and I wished -to have a weak husband, so that I might control him." - -"Was there no love at all in the marriage?" - -"Well, my dear"--Mrs. Fane laughed--"I must confess that Walter is -very good-looking, and that I should be jealous of his attention to -any other woman. Are you answered?" - -"Yes--so far as the love is concerned. But I don't understand how -Walter can go abroad and leave the business." - -"He is not much use. I can look after it for him, as I have always -done. Do you think I should let Walter go away yachting if I did not -like a free hand? He is happy on the sea, and I am happy in the -counting-house, so all is well. This villa has become objectionable to -Walter on account of the murder, so we intend to give it up. Probably -we shall move to a French watering-place or to Switzerland. Walter can -enjoy himself in his usual way, and I can run over when needful to -attend to the business." - -"I understand. But if you make your home in Switzerland, you will be -far from London. Also, Walter will not be able to yacht." - -"True enough. We shall see. I must be near England, so that I can run -across rapidly, and Walter must be near the sea, for his beloved boat. -If I allow Frederick to conduct the business without help, I am sure -he will ruin it and me too." - -"I wonder you like Walter to remain away for so long, Julia." - -"My dear, I have perfect confidence in him." - -"But if you loved him----" - -"I would keep him by me. Well, I do love him in a way, though he is -too weak to command my respect. But Walter is one of those -demonstrative men who are a nuisance to a woman of my temperament. He -wants to kiss and caress all day long. I find that trying, so I prefer -him to go away occasionally. And now you know what we intend to do, -what about yourself?" - -"Am I not to go with you?" - -"If you like. But you are getting older, and, I must confess, that as -you have an income of your own, I think you should have a home." - -"I see"--Laura looked directly at her sister--"you wish to get rid of -me." - -"Oh no," replied Mrs. Fane in quite a conventional way; "you are a -very good companion for Walter, and he is fond of you in his weak way. -As you don't trouble me, I shall be pleased to have you with us -abroad. But I think it right to give you the choice." - -"Of going with you as the fifth wheel on the chariot----" - -"Or marrying," said Mrs. Fane calmly--"yes. That is what I mean." - -"Suppose I do neither. I have my own money. I might go and live with -Gerty Baldwin." - -"You might," assented the elder sister, "if you like to live in a -pig-sty with that lymphatic woman, who is more like a jelly than a -human being." - -"There's no harm in her," protested Laura. - -"Nor is there in a pig. But I don't care to live with a pig. As to -Gerty Baldwin, she is a fast young minx, engaged to a vulgarian." - -"Mr. Tracey is a kindhearted man." - -"But vulgar. And Gerty?" - -"The dearest girl in the world." - -Mrs. Fane again lifted her eyebrows. - -"I confess I don't care for people of that sort." - -"Do you care for any one but yourself?" asked Laura bitterly. - -"I care for Minnie, and a little for Walter," said Mrs. Fane, "but the -ordinary human being does not seem worthy of being liked." - -"You condemn the world as though you were its judge and not its -denizen," said Laura, with a curled lip and flashing eyes. "Julia, you -were always a hard woman. Your nature is like our father's." - -"Quite so, and for that reason he left me most of the money. You and -Frederick take after our late mother. A kind woman, but so weak! Oh, -dear me," sighed Mrs. Fane; "how very weak!" - -"Laura felt inclined to walk out of the room. But she knew that such -behaviour would result in nothing. Mrs. Fane would show no anger, but -would simply attack Laura on the subject uppermost in her mind when -they again met. The subject was Laura's future, so the girl thought it -best to bring the matter to an issue. - -"Does all this mean that you withdraw your opposition to my marriage -with Arnold?" - -"No. I still think the match is a bad one. But if you are determined -to commit social suicide, I will not hinder you. Down at Westcliff I -considered the matter, and resolved to tell you this when I returned. -Of course this murder brings the matter still more to the front, since -it makes us give up the villa. You must decide whether to come with -us, or to marry Mr. Calvert, and take your own life on your own -shoulders." - -"We can settle that later. When do you go?" - -"In three or four months. We have to get rid of the lease of the -villa, you see, and there are other things to be considered. Have you -accepted Mr. Calvert's hand?" - -"Yes. We are engaged." - -Mrs. Fane shrugged her ample shoulders. - -"Fancy marrying an actor, and a mediocre actor at that! Why, the man -can't keep you." - -"I have money enough for us both." - -"Oh, I am quite sure that he will live on you, my dear. Why hasn't he -been to see you lately?" - -Laura rose to her feet. - -"Because I asked him not to come," she said distinctly. "You have been -so disagreeable to him that, for the sake of peace, I thought it best -he should not visit me." - -"You saw him when you were at the Baldwins'?" - -"Several times." - -"Oh indeed!" sneered Mrs. Fane; "and when do you marry?" - -"When we choose. Arnold is an actor and----" - -"A perfect stick," said Mrs. Fane derisively. - -"A fine actor, as every one acknowledges. He will make his mark." - -"There are few signs of it at present. Just now he is acting in this -new play at the Frivolity Theatre. A secondary part!" - -"He has the leading comedy part," said Laura angrily. "Julia, why will -you annoy me?" - -"My dear, I don't. It's your own bad temper. You never will face the -truth. However, I have placed matters before you, so you can take time -and decide your future course." - -"I won't go abroad with you, Julia. We should only quarrel." - -"Oh dear me, no! I never quarrel. People--you included--are too weak -to quarrel with. However, it's decided you won't come?" - -"Yes. I shall live with the Baldwins." - -"I wish you joy! But recollect, if you marry this actor, I refuse to -come to the wedding." - -"You had better wait till you are asked," said Laura rather weakly, -and left the room, fearful what she might say next. The last words she -heard from Julia were an admonition to keep her temper. - -At first Laura intended to go to her own room, but hearing voices in -the White Room she peered in. To her surprise, she saw Arnold seated -with Walter Fane. When they saw her, Arnold rose quickly and came -forward. - -"My dearest, how glad I am you have come!" - -"Why didn't you send for me?" said Laura, as he kissed her. - -"I asked him not to," interposed Walter uneasily. "Julia was with you, -and she would have come also. I don't feel well enough for Julia's -preaching at present," he said, passing his hand across his brow; "this -murder has upset me." - -"Have you heard about it, Arnold?" asked Laura, looking at her lover -in a searching manner. - -"Yes," he replied calmly, and evidently prepared for the question. "And -I should have come before to see you, but that you told me not to." - -"You haven't been here for a long time," said Walter wearily. - -"Not since you left for the seaside. But I saw Laura at the Baldwins' -a week ago. Laura, you are not going?" - -Miss Mason, who had changed colour while her lover was speaking, and -had not taken her eyes from his face, was by this time half-way to the -door. - -"I must go," she said rapidly. "I have something to do. I shall see -you again." - -"When?" asked Calvert, detaining her at the door. - -"I shall write and let you know," said Laura, and abruptly withdrawing -her hand from his, she escaped. - -Arnold returned to his seat near Fane with a puzzled expression. - -"What is the matter?" he asked, and there was an apprehensive look in -his eyes. - -Fane also looked nervous, but that was scarcely to be wondered at, -considering the late events. - -"I suppose Julia has been going on at her about you," he said -fretfully. "I wish you'd marry her right away and take her from Julia. -Poor Laura has a bad time." - -"I am not in a position to do so now," said Calvert gloomily; "things -are bad with me. This play has not been a success, and I'll be out of -an engagement soon." - -"Laura has money for you both," said Fane. - -Arnold flushed to the roots of his fair hair. - -"I do not intend to live on my wife," he said sharply. "Until I can -keep her in the style to which she has been accustomed, I will not -marry her." - -Fane laughed rather weakly. - -"As things stand at present there is not much chance of your becoming -a wealthy man," he said. - -"Perhaps. And yet I don't know. I may come in for money." - -"Really!" said Walter with interest; "some relative?" - -Arnold nodded. "A cousin on my mother's side. A man called Brand." - -Fane, who had been listening quietly, started from his seat. - -"What!" - -"A man called Brand. He lives in Australia, and is very rich. I think -the money will come to me, or to a cousin of mine--a woman." - -Fane was quiet again by this time. "I knew a man called Brand once. He -was a scoundrel who cheated me out of a lot of money. A young man he -was, with green eyes." - -"Can't be any relative of mine," said Calvert. "I never saw my cousin -in Australia, but he looks a kindly man from his portrait. Not at all -the sort to have green eyes. As to Flora's eyes, they are brown." - -"Flora," said Fane idly; "what a pretty name! Who is she?" - -"The cousin I told you of. The money may come to her. She lives at -Hampstead, but I have never been to her house." - -"How is that?" - -"I only became aware of her existence some months ago," said Arnold -lightly. "We met by chance, and--but it's a long story. But we learned -that we were relations, and I promised to call." - -"But you didn't?" - -"No. Something always came in the way. But I dare say if Flora came in -for the money she would help me. I might chuck the stage, and get a -start--read for the bar, perhaps. Then I could marry Laura." - -"Have you any capabilities for the bar?" asked Fane. "For instance, -what do you think of this murder?" - -Arnold threw up his hand. - -"Don't ask me," he said abruptly; "I have heard nothing else discussed -but that murder for days. I am perfectly sick of it. What is your -opinion?" - -"I don't know--I haven't one. The whole thing is a mystery to me. All -I know is that the death in this room has so sickened me, that I -intend to give up the villa and go abroad to Switzerland." - -"An inland place. That will rather interfere with your yachting." - -"Before Fane could answer, the door opened, and Mrs. Fane, serene as -ever, entered with an evening paper in her hand. She started a trifle -when she saw Arnold, but bowed gracefully. - -"So pleased to see you," she said with conventional falseness. "I must -send Laura to you. She is dying to see you." - -"I have seen her, Mrs. Fane. I am now going away." - -"Oh!" Mrs. Fane smiled agreeably. "You have quarrelled." - -"No, but----" - -"Never mind--never mind!" interrupted Walter irritably. "What is the -matter, Julia?" - -"She laid her cool hand on his head. - -"How hot your brow is," she said soothingly. "You have never been -yourself since this horrid murder." - -"We agreed not to talk of it again," said Fane, moving his head from -under her hand. - -"I fear we must," said his wife, sitting down. "Don't go, Mr. Calvert. -This is no secret. Merely a paragraph in the paper." - -"Have they found out anything?" asked Arnold quietly. - -"Well, it seems to be a sort of a clue. This room, you know----" - -"This room!" Both men looked round the White Room, and then at one -another. Finally both pairs of eyes were fixed on Mrs. Fane's face. - -"Yes," she said calmly. "I need not read the paragraph. The gist of it -is that the police have received a letter stating that there is a room -like this in a house at Hampstead." - -"At Hampstead?" said Calvert, advancing a step. - -"Yes. It belongs to a Mr. Brand." - -"Brand!" said Fane, looking at Calvert. "Why, that is the name you -mentioned just now!" - -"Yes," said the young man with an effort. "I have a cousin called -Flora Brand." - -"Dear me," said Mrs. Fane in her cold way. "I wonder if she can be the -miserable creature who was murdered in this room." - -"Julia!" Fane started to his feet. "What do you mean?" - -"Don't grow excited, my dear," she replied in her soothing tones. "But -it seems that Mrs. Brand has disappeared. The writer of the letter -doesn't describe her to the police; but inquiries are being made. -Perhaps she may be the dead woman. How strange that she should have -died in this room, when she has one of her own furnished exactly the -same. This room was your own idea, Walter?" - -"Yes," he replied, looking puzzled, "my own idea. And I don't know -Mrs. Brand. How came she to have a similar room?" - -Arnold took up his hat. - -"I'll find that out," he said. - -When he left the room, husband and wife looked at one another. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -THE OTHER WHITE ROOM - - -Coleridge Lane, Hampstead, was named after the great poet, who had -once resided in the neighbourhood. If he lived in this special -locality, he could not have found it congenial to his Muse, for the -crooked, winding, sloping passage could hardly be called a lane, much -less a road. Also, it was damp by reason of the ancient trees that -nearly met overhead. On either side were small cottages standing -amidst weedy gardens, the survivals of a far-off age, when a wide view -and careful drainage were not considered as necessary to any human -habitation. An air of melancholy hung over the place, and only because -the rents were low did the cottages contain tenants. - -Before the gate of one of these cottages stood Inspector Derrick one -summer's morning. He was in private clothes, and looked, as usual, -smart and alert. With a sharp look on his stern face he stared at the -damp, discoloured walls of the cottage, which matched with a -moss-grown thatched roof. Yet, in spite of the apparent decay of the -house, there was evidence that the occupier had some idea of tidiness -and comfort. The garden was well weeded, and filled with homely -cottage flowers now in full bloom. A green-painted fence divided the -garden from the lane, and there was a narrow gate which bore the name -"Fairy Lodge." The windows were draped with lace curtains tied with -smart pink ribbons. The brass door-knocker was well polished, and the -step thoroughly whitewashed. Apparently the landlord would not, and -the tenant could not, renovate the cottage, but much had been done to -render it a little less melancholy than the neighbouring houses. - -Derrick stood enjoying the cool breeze and sunshine on that bright -morning, and wondering if the person he had appointed to meet him -there would come. It was already five minutes past the hour of -eleven, so the person was late. But even while the inspector looked -at his watch, the individual appeared. He was an old man, thin and -weather-worn, dressed in shabby clothes, and looking as though he had -not enough to eat. He appeared to be almost as shabby as the -neighbourhood, and hobbled towards Derrick coughing, and limping with -the aid of a stout stick. As soon as he came within eyeshot--for his -sight did not seem to be good--he halted mistrustfully. Derrick, -guessing that he was the man who was to meet him, advanced. "You are -Mr. Webb?" said he briskly. - -"I might be," returned the old fellow cautiously, "if you are Mr. -Derrick I wrote to at a certain place." - -"I am Inspector Derrick, and I come in answer to your letter about -Mrs. Brand and the White Room." - -"Will there be any reward for my setting the police on the track?" -asked Webb cunningly. - -"Well, I can hardly say. Mr. Fane, in whose house this woman was -murdered, promised to recompense me should I discover anything likely -to lead to the detection of the assassin. I dare say he will give me a -hundred pounds." - -"Halves," said the old man, coughing, "or I don't let you in." - -"I fear you won't be able to stop me," said Derrick, smiling. "On the -strength of your letter I procured a search-warrant. I represent the -law, you see. You should have made a bargain before you wrote the -letter, Mr. Webb." - -"Rogues, thieves, and liars, the lot of you," said the old man, -striking the ground violently with his stick. "What about my rent?" - -"I don't owe you any. Did this woman?" - -"No. She's paid me up to date. But here's my cottage without a tenant. -I'll find it difficult to let it again, if she was done to death as -the papers said." - -"We don't know that Mrs. Brand is the same woman." - -"Well, Mrs. Brand hasn't been seen since the day that crime took -place," retorted Webb, "and then there's the room, you know." - -"Ah! I want to see the room. It is strange she should have been killed -in a room similar to that occupied by herself. I can't understand it." - -"If you made it worth my while I might assist you. I am poor; oh! how -poor I am. Look at my clothes. You wouldn't pick them off a -dunghill--not you. And I live on sausages. They're cheap, but not -filling. Do you know of anything that taken at one meal would keep me -going for a week?" - -"No," said Derrick abruptly, and thinking the old man a queer -character. "Show me the house." - -"All in good time," said the ancient, hobbling to the gate. "Ah!" He -wheeled round and shook his fist at a butcher's boy. "Hear that brat. -Why don't you run him in for insulting language?" - -"Miser! miser!" chanted the boy, leering across the lane at the old -creature, who shook his fist in impotent rage. "Golly, what clothes. -Say, mister"--this was to Derrick--"if I come across to deliver the -meat, will you stop the old cove from pitching into me?" - -"I'll bash your head, you imp," yelled Webb, quivering with rage. - -"Leave him alone," said Derrick good-humouredly. "Boys will be boys. -Now then, young shaver, come along!" - -But the boy declined. He darted across the road, thrust a chop into -the inspector's hand, and darted back. "You give it to Mrs. Brand, -governor," said the boy, grinning; "the old cove's got his bleary eye -on yours truly." - -"Beast of a boy," said Webb, and entering the gate he hobbled up to -the door. - -Derrick lingered behind, and produced a shilling. "See here, boy," he -remarked persuasively, "do you deliver meat to Mrs. Brand every day?" - -"Every second day," said the boy advancing, lured by the shilling. - -"Has the meat been taken in as usual?" - -"No, it ain't. Not for over a week. Nearly a fortnight, you might -say. I brings them though--the chops, I mean--and puts them in the -meat-safe at the back of the house. There's lots there, but she ain't -bin home to eat them." - -"When did you last see her?" - -"Over a fortnight ago," said the boy, counting on his fingers, -and apparently not very sure as to his dates. "On a Thursday that -was. She took the chop in as usual. On Saturday I brought a steak -late--somewhere about six--so that it might be quite fresh for Sunday, -and she wasn't in. Ain't seen her since. Say, mister, if y' know her, -say as master 'ull charge her for the meat. It's her own fault she -ain't eaten it." - -"Why didn't she leave a servant in charge?" - -"Too poor," said the boy, taking the shilling and spitting on it for -luck. "She always did the housework herself. But she was a real lady -for all that. Say, mister"--the boy stared--"nothing ain't gone wrong -with her?" - -"No. I merely called to see her." - -"Well, she ain't at home as I can see. There ain't no smoke coming -from the chimney, though to be sure she may be saving the coals. I -thought the miser might have done away with her. He's an old rip as -ought to be in gaol. I saw him making eyes at her." - -"Ah! Then Mrs. Brand is a pretty woman?" - -"Yes, in a kind of delicate sort of way. Brown hair and blue eyes and -pale and little. Looked like a widder," said the boy confidentially, -"but she wasn't. Bless you, no! Her husband's a commercial gent as -comes home every now and then. But he's away for the most part of the -time." - -"Have you ever seen him?" - -"In the dark I did. A tall gent. But I can't tell you his looks." - -"You are a smart boy," said Derrick, taking out his note-book. "I -should like to see more of you." - -"My name's Potter," said the boy, grinning at this praise. "I work for -old Rams the butcher." - -"Ah, I know the shop," said Derrick, noting this. "I once lived in -Hampstead, and dealt with Mr. Rams." - -"My, ain't he sharp over the money. But Mrs. Brand always paid up like -a lady. Guess the miser got his rent." - -"Webb hailed Derrick at this moment. Are you going to talk to that -brat all day, officer?" he inquired shrilly, peering out of the open -door. - -At the word "officer" Potter backed with a look of apprehension. "I -say, you're a peeler. Lor! Anything wrong?" - -"No," said Derrick, vexed at being thus betrayed. "Hold your tongue -about this conversation. I'll make it worth your while." - -"I'm fly," said Master Potter, with a whistle and an easier look. He -showed a disposition to linger at the gate; but Derrick ordered him -sway sharply, and he departed, casting looks over his shoulder, too -amazed at his discovery of Derrick's profession to call old Webb bad -names. Derrick went inside. - -"If Mr. Brand arrives I can show him this as my authority for entering -the cottage," said Derrick, displaying a search-warrant. - -"Brand! Mrs. Brand?" - -"Mister! The husband." - -"Never saw him," grumbled Webb. "Mrs. Brand said she had one, but she -paid the rent and looked after the house, and kept very much to -herself. I never set eyes on him." - -"He's a commercial traveller," the boy said. - -"The boy's a liar," retorted the agreeable Mr. Webb. "Mrs. Brand was -too much the lady to marry a commercial. She used to talk of her -husband, but she never let on his employment." - -"Did she rent the cottage in her own name?" - -"Yes. I don't believe she had a husband." - -"What reference did she give." - -"Six months' rent in advance. Stop! She did refer me to a -schoolmaster." - -"A schoolmaster? What is his name?" - -"Professor Bocaros." - -"A professor--of what?" - -"Lord," said Webb testily, "how do I know? Any one can call themselves -professors if they've a mind to--especially foreigners." - -Derrick, who was standing in the small hall, started, and remembered -what Miss Mason had said when he mentioned the stiletto. "Is this -professor a foreigner?" he asked eagerly. - -"A Greek. Bocaros means bull's head or bull's tail--at least it did -when I was at school. Ah! I've been educated, though you mightn't -think so, Mister Inspector." - -Derrick passed over this remark. "Did you see this man?" - -"No. My time's too valuable to run after foreigners. I wrote to him at -the address given by Mrs. Brand. She said he was a cousin of hers. He -wrote back saying that she was a respectable person. I dare say she -was, but I don't believe she had a husband. If she had, why didn't he -show? A commercial gent! Bah! Don't tell me." - -"What address did Mrs. Brand give you?" - -"Now that's queer. She gave me Ulysses Street, Troy!" - -This time Derrick could not suppress an exclamation. "Why, that is -only a stone-throw from Achilles Avenue. It's near Meadow Lane." - -"I said it was queer," remarked Webb, nodding. "Perhaps he did her to -death. What do you think?" - -"I think you may have put a clue into my hand," said the inspector, -noting the address in his useful little book. "Don't speak of this to -any one. I'll make it worth your while." - -"Halves," said the miser again; "though it's only fifty pounds. I -think Mr.--what's his name?--Fane should give me the whole hundred." - -"Oh, indeed." Derrick put the book into his pocket. "And what about -me, Mr. Webb, if you please?" - -"You're paid for finding criminals, I ain't," said Webb, entering a -side door. "Come and look at the room. My time's valuable. I can't -stand talking to you all day. The drawing-room this is." - -"Ha!" Derrick stood at the door, and looked at the small room, which -was furnished in the same fashion as the larger one in Ajax Villa, -though not in so costly a manner. The walls and hangings were white, -the carpet and furniture also, and even the piano was cased in white -wood. In all respects, save in the way of luxury, the room was the -same. It was strange that Mrs. Brand should have been killed in a room -similar to her drawing-room, and in a house situated at the other end -of London. "Though we don't know if the dead woman is Mrs. Brand," -said Derrick, looking round. - -"That's easily settled," said Webb, who had taken up his position in a -cane chair. "There's her portrait." - -On the mantel-piece were two silver frames, one on either side of a -gimcrack French clock. The frame to the left contained the photograph -of a pretty slight woman, in whom Derrick immediately recognised the -dead unknown. "That's her sure enough," said he, taking a long look. -"I wonder how she came to die in a room similar to this," and he -glanced around again. "The mystery is growing deeper every discovery I -make. What of the other silver frame?" - -"It's got the photograph of a man--the husband, I suppose." - -"No." Derrick took down the frame. "The photograph has been removed." - -"Lord!" said Webb, when a close examination assured him of this fact. -"Why, so it has. But she showed it to me one day when I asked about -Mr. Brand, and said it was his picture." - -"Do you remember what the man was like in looks?" said the inspector, -replacing the frame, much disappointed. - -"No," replied the old man; "my eyesight's that bad as I can hardly -tell A from B. It was the picture of a bearded man." - -"A pointed beard?" - -"I can't say. He had a beard, that's all I know. Mrs. Brand said that -his business took him away a good deal. But she didn't say he was a -commercial gent." - -"Did Mrs. Brand, go out much?" - -"Not at all. I told you so before. She kept very much to herself, in a -haughty kind of way. Thought herself a fine lady, I suppose, and -there's no denying she was a lady. She has been my tenant for over -five years, and always paid regular, but she knew no one, and when any -one called she never would let them in. I only got to know of this -room because I came for my rent." - -"Did she pay her bills regularly?" - -"Yes. I asked that, being fearful for my rent. She always paid up like -a lady. Not that she took much in. Generally she lived by herself, so -didn't eat much, keeping no servant either." - -"Did she ever go out to concerts or theatres or anywhere?" - -"When her husband came home she used to enjoy herself. I believe she -went to the opera, or to concerts, being fond of music." - -"Ah!" Derrick recalled the song. "Did she sing?" - -"Not that I ever heard of. She told me very little about herself, and -what I know I had to drag out of her. She came five years ago and took -this cottage by herself. Afterwards her husband, as she called him, -came. I never saw him, and she always paid her rent regularly. That's -all I know." - -"Why do you think Mr. Brand was not her husband?" - -"I never said he wasn't. I don't know. She seemed a respectable -person, and was very quiet in her living and dress. Sometimes she shut -up the cottage and went away for a week." - -"Always for a week?" - -"Yes. She never was absent long. I suppose she and her husband had a -jaunt all to themselves. She had no children. But ain't you going to -look at the rest of the house?" - -"Yes." Derrick cast his eyes round the room again. On the round white -wood table was a photograph album bound in white leather. He opened -this, and found that all the portraits therein--the book was only half -full--were those of women. Several were of Mrs. Brand as child and -girl and woman. Spaces showed that five or six portraits had been -removed. Derrick noted this, and then left the drawing-room -thoughtfully. It seemed to him as though all the male portraits had -been removed on purpose. And the chances were that in an album -belonging to the wife, portraits of the husband might be found. At the -door of the white room he cast his eyes on the ground. "Has it been -raining?" he asked. - -Webb, who was already in the passage, came back, and stared at the -footmarks--muddy footmarks which were printed on the white carpet. -"It's not been raining for over a week," he said. "Strange that there -should be this mess. Mrs. Brand was always a particularly tidy woman. -She never let a spot of dirt remain in this room." - -"We've had a dry summer," said Derrick, pinching his lip. - -"Very dry," assented Webb. "To be sure, there was that big -thunderstorm eight days ago." - -"And before that we had three weeks of sunshine." - -"Yes." The old man stared. "What of that?" - -"It seems to me----" said Derrick; then he paused, and shook his head. -"Let us examine the rest of the house." - -Webb, not knowing what was passing in the officer's mind, stared again -and hobbled round as cicerone. They went to the small kitchen, to the -one bedroom, to the tiny dining-room, and examined the small -conservatory opening out of this last. At the back of the house there -was a small garden filled with gaudy sunflowers and tall hollyhocks. -The red brick walls which enclosed the plot of ground scarcely larger -than a handkerchief were draped with ivy, carefully trimmed and -tended. The conservatory was filled with cheap flowers neatly ranged. -Apparently Mrs. Brand, judging by the conservatory and the back and -front gardens, was fond of flowers, and made it the pleasure of her -life to tend them. - -The kitchen and the dining-room were plainly furnished. In the -meat-safe outside the back door were the chops and steaks left by the -butcher's boy, and also loaves of bread. A milk-can was on the ground -and empty, showing that probably all the cats in the place had been -enjoying themselves. Derrick found that a narrow passage between the -enclosing wall and the house led from the front garden to the back. -Having assured himself of this, he re-entered the house, and examined -the bedroom. - -This was better furnished than the rest of the house. There was a -smart dressing-table decked with muslin and pink ribbons. On it were -articles of female toilette. Several dresses (plain for the most part) -were hanging up in the wardrobe, and there was a warm but untrimmed -dressing-gown in the bathroom. But Derrick could not see any male -apparel, and pointed this out to Webb. - -"Perhaps Mr. Brand wasn't her husband after all," said the old man. -"He may have been a friend of hers, and came here occasionally. But he -didn't live here." - -"The boy said he did sometimes." - -"The boy's a liar," said Webb vindictively. - -"Hum! I don't know that. I have an idea." - -"Of what?" - -"I'll tell you directly." Derrick opened all the drawers in the -bedroom. He found linen, hats, handkerchiefs, ribbons--all articles of -female attire, but again nothing appertaining to a man's dress. - -"Where's her desk?" he asked abruptly. - -"In the white room. I was sitting near it." - -"The inspector, having searched the bedroom again to see if he could -find any papers, led the way back to the drawing-room. The desk was -near the window, and unlocked; that is, it opened easily enough, and -Derrick thought it was unlocked. But a glance showed him that the lock -was broken. The desk has been forced," he said, and threw wide the -lid, "and the contents have been removed," he added. - -Webb stared at the empty desk. There were a few bundles of receipted -bills, some writing-paper and envelopes, and a stick or two of red -sealing-wax. But no scrap of writing was there to reveal anything -about Mrs. Brand. Yet on a knowledge of her past depended the -discovery of the reason she had been stabbed in Troy. The inspector -looked at the desk, at the floor, and drew his own conclusions. "Some -one has been here eight days ago, and has removed all papers and -pictures likely to give a clue to the past of this woman and to the -identity of the husband." - -"How do you know?" asked Webb, startled. - -Derrick pointed to the muddy marks on the carpet. "The fact that the -carpet is white betrays the truth," said he. "For the last month or -so, that is, before and since the murder, we have had only one -storm--that was eight days ago. The person who removed the portraits -from the album and from the silver frame, who forced the desk and -destroyed the papers, came on that day----" - -"The thunderstorm was at night," interrupted Webb. - -"Then at night, which would be the better concealment of his purpose. -He came here with mud on his boots, as is proved by these marks. He -wished to remove all evidence of Mr. Brand's identity. Therefore----" - -"Well," said Webb, seeing that Derrick hesitated. "I believe that -Brand himself did so, and that Brand is the man who killed his wife in -Ajax Villa." - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -PROFESSOR BOCAROS - - -Mrs. Baldwin always called herself an unlucky woman, and lamented that -she had to undergo misfortunes heavier than those of other people. But -in truth she was better off than her laziness and grumbling deserved. -Her income was small but sure, and if she lived unhappily, with her -second husband the fault was hers. The man grew weary of her -inattention to domestic comfort, and to her constant lamentations. It -said a great deal for the absent Mr. Baldwin that he had lived with -this slattern for so many years. The most sensible thing he ever did -in his life was when he left her. - -On losing him Mrs. Baldwin had taken up her abode in Cloverhead Manor -House, and obtained it at a low rent. She would not have got it so -cheap, but that in those days Troy was only beginning to gather round -the ancient village. Mrs. Baldwin, in spite of her laziness, was -clever enough to foresee that land would increase in value, and bought -the acres upon which the manor stood. The former owner, the last -member of a decayed family, had sold the land gladly enough, as he -obtained from Mrs. Baldwin a larger price than was offered by the -classic jerry-builder, who was responsible for the modern suburb. -Since then the value of the land--as was anticipated by Mrs. -Baldwin--had increased, and many speculators offered large sums to buy -it. But Mrs. Baldwin was too lazy to make another move. She enjoyed -pigging it in the large roomy house, and quite resolved not to move -until the children were settled in life. She then proposed to sell the -land, and use the money "to take her proper station in society," -whatever that meant. And she was cunning enough to know that the land -would increase still more in value. There were the makings of a -business woman in Mrs. Baldwin had she not been so incorrigibly lazy. - -"But I really can't move," sighed Mrs. Baldwin when approached on the -subject by Gerty, who was businesslike and speculative. "Heaven knows -I can hardly get through the day's work with my bad health. Besides, -there is the professor to be considered. Such a nice man. If I were -only sure that Rufus was dead I might consent to take him." - -This was sheer vanity on the part of the lazy fat woman, as the -professor had no intention of asking her to become Mrs. Bocaros. He -was a bachelor by nature, and passed his life in study. Holding a -small post in a suburban college where he taught foreign languages, he -just managed to keep his head above water. For the sake of peace, and -because he hated a boarding-house, the professor wanted a home to -himself. When Mrs. Baldwin came to Cloverhead she had a tiny cottage -on her estate at the foot of the meadow at the back of the -manor-house. It was surrounded by pines, and lying near a small stream -which overflowed whenever there was rain, being therefore extremely -damp. She had no idea of letting it, but on meeting Bocaros at a -scholastic "At Home" she learned of his desire, and offered him the -place. He accepted it eagerly, and for some years had been Mrs. -Baldwin's tenant. - -The professor was a quiet neighbour. He kept no servant, and did the -work himself. The cottage possessed but two rooms, one of which was -used as a kitchen, and the other as a dining-room, a bedroom, a study, -and a reception-room. This last was large and airy and damp, but the -professor loved it because of the solitude. He cherished a tranquil -life above all things, and certainly found it in "The Refuge," as he -called his tiny domicile. Through the pines he could see the country -dotted with red brick villas, the outposts of London, for Troy was one -of the last additions to the great city, and its surroundings were -almost rural. Beside the stream grew stunted alders and tall poplars. -There was no fence round the place. It was clapped down on the verge -of the meadow, and girdled with the pines. A more isolated hermitage -it is impossible to conceive. Tracey, who sometimes came to see -Bocaros, for whose learning he had a great respect, advised draining -the place, but Bocaros was obstinate. "It will last my time," he said -in his rather precise way; "and I may not live here for many years." - -"Do you intend to leave then?" asked Tracey. - -"I might. There is a chance I may inherit money, and then I would live -in Switzerland." - -"That's where the anarchists dwell," said Tracey, wondering if this -queer-looking foreigner was a member of some secret society. - -Professor Bocaros--he obtained his title from a Greek College, as he -stated--was certainly odd in his appearance. He was tall and lean and -lank, apparently made of nothing but bones. Rheumatism in this damp -spot would have had a fine field to rack Bocaros, but he never seemed -to be ill. Always dressed in black broadcloth, rather worn, he looked -like an undertaker, and moved with quite a funereal step. His face was -of the fine Greek type, but so emaciated that it looked like a -death's-head. With his hollow cheeks, his thin red lips, his high bald -forehead, and the absence of beard and moustache, Bocaros was most -unattractive. The most remarkable feature of his face was his eyes. -These, under shaggy black brows, seemed to blaze like lamps. However -weak and ill the man looked, his blazing eyes showed that he was full -of vitality. Also, his lean hands could grip firmly, and his long legs -took him over the ground at a surprising rate. Yet he ate little, and -appeared to be badly nourished. Tracey, to whom Bocaros was always a -source of wonder and constant speculation, confided to Gerty that he -believed the professor was possessed of some restorative which served -instead of food. On the whole, there was an air of mystery about the -man which provoked the curiosity of the lively, inquisitive American. -It would have inspired curiosity with many people also, had not -Bocaros lived so retired a life. The Baldwin children called his house -"Ogre Castle," and invented weird tales of the professor eating little -children. - -"I shouldn't wonder if he was a vampire of sorts," said Tracey. "He -don't live on air, and the food in that Mother Hubbard's cupboard of -his wouldn't keep a flea in condition." - -"I don't believe in much eating myself," Mrs. Baldwin responded, -although she never gave her inside a rest, and was always-chewing like -a cow. "Abstinence keeps the brain clear." - -"And over-abstinence kills the body," retorted Tracey. - -Whatever Bocaros may have thought of the murder, he said very little -about it. He never took in a paper himself, but was accustomed to -borrow the _Daily Budget_ from Mrs. Baldwin when that lady had -finished the court news, the only part of the paper she took any -interest in. Usually after his return from the school where he taught, -Bocaros came across the meadows by a well-defined path, and asked for -the journal. This was usually between four and five o'clock, and then -he would have a chat with Mrs. Baldwin. But two or three weeks after -the Ajax Villa tragedy, when the professor tore along the path--he -always walked as though he were hurrying for a doctor--he met Tracey -half-way. The American had the newspaper in his hand. - -"Coming for this, I guess," said Tracey, handing over the journal. "I -was just bringing it to you. There's a question or two I wish to ask. -You don't mind, do you?" - -Bocaros fixed his brilliant eyes on the other. "What is the question, -my friend?" he demanded in English, which hardly bore a trace of -foreign accent. - -The American did not reply directly. "You're a clever sort of smart -all-round go-ahead colleger," said Tracey, taking the thin arm of the -man, an attention which Bocaros did not appreciate, "and I want to ask -your opinion about this murder." - -"I know nothing about murders, my friend. Why not go to the police?" - -"The police!" Tracey made a gesture of disgust. "They ain't worth a -cent. Why, about three weeks have gone by since that poor girl was -stabbed, and they don't seem any nearer the truth than they were." - -"We discussed this before," said Bocaros, as they approached the belt -of pines, "and I told you that I could form no theory. My work lies -amidst languages. I am a philologist, my friend, and no detective." - -"I guess you'd pan out better than the rest of them if you were." - -"You flatter me." Bocaros removed his arm, and inserted a large key -into the lock of his door. "Will you come in?" - -"You don't seem very set on chin-music, but I'll come," said Tracey, -who, when bent on obtaining anything, never rested till he achieved -his purpose. - -Bocaros gave a gentle sigh, which a more sensitive man might have -taken as a sign that his company was not wanted at that precise -moment. But Tracey would not go, so he had to be admitted. He entered -the room, which was lined with books, and furnished otherwise in a -poor manner, and threw himself into the one armchair. Then he took out -a cigarette-case. "Have one," he said, extending this. - -"A pipe, my friend, will please me better," replied Bocaros, and -filled a large china pipe, which he must have obtained when he was a -German student. He then took a seat with his back towards the window, -and intimated that he was ready. - -"See here!" said Tracey, opening the newspaper and pointing to a -paragraph; "read that!" - -"Is it about the murder?" asked Bocaros, puffing gently at his pipe. - -"Yes. That fool of a Derrick has made a discovery of some value." - -"In that case he cannot be a fool, my friend," replied Bocaros, -leaning back his head and inhaling the smoke luxuriously. "Tell me -what the paper says. I can't read while you talk, and I am sure you -will not be silent for five minutes." - -"That's a fact," said Tracey coolly. "I've got a long tongue and an -inquiring mind. I shan't read the paragraph. But it seems that -he--Derrick, I mean--has found out the woman's name." - -"How interesting!" said Bocaros, unmoved and in rather a bored tone. -"How did he find it out?" - -"Well, some one wrote from Hampstead," said Tracey, throwing the paper -aside, and giving the gist of his information, "and let out there was -a woman who lived in Coleridge Lane who had a white room, same as that -she was murdered in." - -"Coleridge Lane!" repeated Bocaros, opening his eyes. "I know some one -living there. What is this woman's name?" - -"The inspector," continued Tracey, taking no notice of this direct -question, "went to see this room. He found the house shut up. The -landlord had the key, and with the landlord he entered. He found, as -was stated, a room similar in all respects to the one in Ajax Villa, -though the furniture was poor. More than that, there was a portrait on -the mantel-piece of the woman who was murdered." - -"You can give me the details afterwards," said Bocaros hastily. "At -present I want to know the woman's name." - -"Keep your hair on, professor. Her name is Brand." - -Bocaros rose from his chair and, dropping his pipe, threw up his hands -with a foreign ejaculation. "Brand! Flora Brand?" - -"Yes. How do you come to know her front name?" - -"She is my cousin," said the professor, and sat down to cover his face -with his hands. - -Tracey whistled, and stared. In making the communication to the man, -he was far from expecting that this announcement would be made. "I -guess you know who killed her then?" he observed coolly. Bocaros -leaped to his feet. "Man," he cried fiercely, "what is that you say? -How should I know who killed her?" - -"You're her cousin, and Derrick says in the woman's past life will be -found the motive for the crime." - -"I know very little of my cousin's past life," said Bocaros, walking -rapidly to and fro, and apparently much moved. "What I do know I shall -tell to the police." - -"Tell it to me now," suggested the American. - -The professor looked at him mistrustfully. "I don't know if you are a -good person to make a confidant of." - -"Bless you, there's no confidence about this, professor. You'll have -to tell the police what you know, and they'll put it all in print." - -"True! True!" Bocaros took a turn up and down the room, then passed -his lean hand through his long hair. "Mr. Tracey, you are a clever -man. I can rely on you to help me." - -"Help you!" Tracey looked sharply at the professor. "What's that?" - -"I mean help me with the police. I am not accustomed to deal with -these matters. They will ask me questions." - -"Well, what if they do? You can answer them, I reckon." - -"Yes, yes. But you know how suspicious the police are." - -"They may be in foreign lands where you hail from. But I guess they're -too pig-headed here to think much." - -"This woman--Flora--was murdered in Ajax Villa. It is only a short -distance from my house. They may think----" - -"That you killed her? That's rubbish. It's queer, certainly, that she -should have come to end her life in that way so near to your shanty, -but there's not much chance of the police accusing you. Did you know -Fane in any way?" - -"I never even heard of him." - -"Not from Miss Mason? You know her?" - -"I have only spoken half a dozen words to her," said Bocaros, twisting -his hands together. "You know how shy I am. Your lady----" - -"Gerty B.," put in Tracey. - -"Yes, Miss Baldwin. She introduced me to Miss Mason. But we had little -speech together. Your young lady might have mentioned the name of -Fane, but I forget--I forget." And Bocaros passed his hand over his -brow again. "You know how absent I am." - -"Yes, yes," said Luther Tracey soothingly, for he saw that the man was -growing excited. "You lie down and go slow. Tell me about this cousin -of yours." - -"She is my first cousin," explained Bocaros, sitting down, and keeping -himself down by the strongest of efforts. "My father's sister married -a man called Calvert, and----" - -"Calvert! Why, that's the name of the man Miss Mason's going to be -married to!" - -"Is it?" The professor stared. "I never knew. Flora told me that her -father's brother had a son called Arnold." - -"That's the name. He's an actor at one of the big shows. Arnold -Calvert. You must have heard of him." - -"Never as an actor." - -"Well, I guess he's not got much of a reputation. Just now he's acting -in a piece at the Frivolity Theatre. _The Third Man_ is the name of -the piece. I don't think much of it myself, or of him as----" - -Bocaros threw up a protesting hand. "We have more important things to -talk about than this young man." - -"Well, I don't know. It's queer that he should be the cousin of the -woman who was killed in the house of the brother-in-law of the girl -he's engaged to. Do you know Calvert?" - -"No; I never met him. Listen, Mr. Tracey. I came to England some five -or six years ago very poor, as I am now. Here Bocaros looked round his -study with a dreary air. I have heard my father talk of his sister who -married a man called Calvert, and I had the address. I found my aunt -dead, and her daughter Flora just preparing to move from the house -where they had lived for a long time. She had very little money, and -told me she was going to be married." - -"To a man called Brand?" - -"Yes. I never saw her husband. Flora told me of our other relatives. -She gave me a little money, and then dismissed me. I did not see her -again. But she wrote to me from Coleridge Lane asking me to give my -name as a reference for her respectability. She wanted to take a house -there----'Fairy Lodge' I think it is called." - -"That's the house," said Tracey, with a glance at the paper. "Well?" - -"Well, I sent the reference, and she never wrote again. Then over a -month ago I received a letter from some lawyers. They stated that Mrs. -Brand had come in for a large fortune, and that she intended next year -to allow me an income." - -"So you've lost by her death?" - -Bocaros sprang to his feet with a wild look. "That's just where it -is," he exclaimed. "I don't know that I haven't gained." - -"As how?" asked Tracey, looking puzzled. - -"When I got the lawyers' letter," proceeded Bocaros,--"the name of the -firm is Laing and Merry--I wrote to Flora, thanking her. She asked me -to call. I did so----" - -"Hallo!" interrupted Tracey; "you said just now you never saw her -again after your interview years ago." - -"I meant at that time. Four or five years elapsed between the time I -saw her. I am not good at dates, but I never saw her for years. All my -life I have only had two interviews. One was when I came to this -country; the other when, shortly before her death, I called to see her -at Coleridge Lane. She received me very kindly, and stated that she -intended to leave me the money. In fact that she had made a will in my -favour." - -Tracey stared. Here was a motive for the murder, seeing that Bocaros -was desperately poor. Yet he could not see how the professor came to -be mixed up with the actual crime. "How much is the property?" he -asked, after an awkward pause. - -"Ten thousand a year." - -"Great Scott! How lucky for you, professor--her death, I mean." - -"I would rather she had not died," burst out the man passionately. -"It's horrible to think that she should have been murdered in so -barbarous a fashion. You see my position. I live near the house where -the crime was committed. I inherit ten thousand a year, and I am much -in need of money. How do I know but what your police may accuse me of -killing Flora?" - -"They'll have to prove how you got into the house first," said the -American, rather ashamed of his momentary suspicions, since the man -looked at the matter in this fashion. "You lie low, professor. You're -all right, I guess. There's a long difference between inheriting a -large fortune and killing the person to get it." - -"I would not have touched Flora for the universe," cried the -professor. "I saw little of her, but what I saw I liked very much. She -was a gentle, kind little lady, and though so poor she always dressed -well. A most charming lady." - -"Where did she get the ten thousand a year?" - -"From a relative who died in Australia. At our first interview she -stated that she had such a relative, and that it was probable she -would inherit the money. Then she promised to assist me. She -remembered her promise when she came in for the money a month or two -ago. Not only did she promise me an income, but made the will in my -favour. I asked her not to, saying I would be content with a small -annuity. But she said she had already made the will." - -"Why didn't she leave it to her husband?" - -"I can't say. She spoke very little about her husband. He is a -commercial traveller, and was often away. From what I saw in her -manner and looks she was not happy; but she did not complain." - -"Well," said Tracey, rising, "if the husband turns up he'll fight you -for the property, though I don't think he'll show." - -"Why not? He won't give up ten thousand a year." - -"No. But Derrick thinks, as you will see in the paper, that Mrs. Brand -was killed by her husband." - -Bocaros started back. "Horrible! Horrible!" Then piteously, "My -friend, what am I to do?" - -"Take my advice, and go right along to see Laing and Merry. They'll -help you through." And this Bocaros agreed to do. - -"And I will spend the money in hunting for the assassin," said he. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -MRS. BRAND'S WILL - - -The office of Laing and Merry was in Milton Street, on the ground -floor of a dingy pile of buildings. There was only one representative -of the firm, as Laing was dead, and his executors had disposed of the -business to Merry. This gentleman carried on the office work with -three clerks, of which one was his son. At a future date the younger -Merry was to be admitted into the business, and at present was serving -his articles. Merry retained the name of Laing on the office -door-plate, as that gentleman had been a much-respected member of the -profession, and his name inspired confidence. - -Regarding Merry's own name, which was certainly odd, it fitted him -extremely well. He was a stout and rubicund lawyer, not at all -resembling the accepted type. There was nothing dry and solemn about -Merry. He seemed to be a simple sort of person, and clients sometimes -doubted his abilities. But all this cheerfulness was assumed. He -really was as deep as a well, but it was a well wherein Truth did not -reside. Not that Merry did anything likely to get himself struck off -the Rolls. He was far too clever for that. But he was certainly -unscrupulous, and more than a match for the majority of rascals. He -always looked for the worst in a man, but his smile and complacent -fatness disarmed all suspicion of his talents. Many a sharper had -cause to rue trusting to the deceitful appearance of the lawyer. - -Mr. Merry sat alone in a dingy room, the window of which looked out on -to a blank wall. The room was surrounded by black-painted deed-boxes, -and was remarkably dusty. Before the lawyer was a pile of letters -which he intended to answer shortly. But at the present moment he was -looking at yesterday's copy of the _Daily Budget_. It belonged to -Merry junior, and his father had taken it in to read the paragraph -pointed out by his son. It was that which dealt with the finding of -Fairy Lodge, and the identification of Flora Brand with the woman who -had been murdered in Ajax Villa. After mastering the article, Merry -rang the bell, and raised his eyes when his son appeared at the door. - -"Come and sit down, and close the door," said the father. "I wish to -speak about this." - -"Merry junior was a stout young man of twenty-one, quite as -cheerful-looking as his respected progenitor. But he had a pair of -sharp grey eyes which always set people on their guard. For this -reason he was not so successful as his father in dealing with -suspicious clients. In a year Merry hoped to be a full-fledged -solicitor, and then intended to become his father's partner. -Meanwhile, as he was remarkably sharp, and had the firm's interest at -heart, Merry senior frequently consulted him. At the present moment he -intended to discuss the death of Mrs. Brand. - -"I can't understand why you did not show me this yesterday," he said. - -"I never saw it," explained the son. "The fact is, I don't take in -that rag." He pointed disdainfully to the paper. "But I picked it up -in a railway carriage while going home last night, and wrapped a bag -of fruit in it. This morning I happened to use some of the paper while -shaving, and my eyes caught the paragraph. I would have shown it to -you at once, but you had already started for the office. I therefore -saved the torn pieces, and brought it in as soon as I arrived." - -"There's nothing about this death in the other papers," said his -father. - -"No. I remember the case though. The woman was murdered at Ajax Villa, -Troy, and there was a great deal of fuss made over the matter, owing -to the strangeness of the affair. It's queer that the similarity of -the rooms should prove to be the means of identification." - -"You think there can be no doubt about the woman?" - -"Oh, it must be Mrs. Brand. You see, the detective--or is he an -inspector?--identified her by the photograph. There's something behind -all this which I can't understand." - -"You mean about the murder?" - -"Well--yes," said the son. "And about the search made in the house by -this man--what's his name?--Derrick. I wonder he did not find our -letters to Mrs. Brand, and come at once to see us." - -"He has not had time, perhaps." - -"The police do not usually lose time. An hour makes a great difference -to a case of this sort. I wonder who murdered her." - -"I can't say. I merely read the inquest in a casual manner. Had I -known it was Mrs. Brand, I should have come forward," added Merry -senior. "The publicity of the case would have done us good." - -The son reflected. "There's time yet to make a fuss," he said. "We are -responsible for the will of Mrs. Brand. I dare say we can get the heir -to offer a reward. What about the will, father?" - -"I must see after it." Merry senior nodded towards a box. "It's in -there. Queer she didn't leave her money to her husband, Sammy." - -"I don't think she and her husband got on well," said Sammy; "he was -always away." - -"Well, as a commercial traveller----" - -"No, father," interrupted Sammy, with vivacity. "I don't believe he -was. Mrs. Brand didn't strike me as a woman who would marry a -commercial traveller. Did you ever see Mr. Brand?" - -"No," replied the lawyer, without raising his eyes. "Did you?" - -"I never did, although you sent me twice to Mrs. Brand's house on -business. I remember the white room. I wonder it didn't strike me when -I saw the report of the crime. By the way, father, how did Mrs. Brand -come to be our client? It was before I entered the office that she -became our client." - -"Yes." Merry rose and looked out of the window at the blank wall, -which was not an alluring prospect. "Her distant cousin, Arthur Brand -of Australia, sent home money to support Mrs. Brand's mother. When the -mother died, he continued the income to the daughter. What always -struck me as strange," added Merry musingly, "was that Mrs. Brand -should marry a man of the same name as that of her cousin." - -"A coincidence merely, father. Then Arthur Brand died and left the -money to this woman?" - -"Yes. A few months ago. I wrote and asked her to call. When informed -of her good fortune she almost fainted. Then I suggested that she -should bring her husband to me, so that he could attend to the matter -on her behalf. But it seemed that Mr. Brand had departed a month -previously to Australia, for the purpose of looking up Arthur. Mrs. -Brand appeared to think that her husband was some connection, and -wished to make sure." - -"There is another cousin, isn't there?" - -"Yes. Arnold Calvert, an actor." Merry's eyes travelled to the tin -box. "I must write him at once." - -"Why? Has he anything to do with the will?" - -Merry opened his mouth to reply, when a clerk entered with a card. -"Professor Bocaros," read the solicitor, and smiled. "Ah! This is Mrs. -Brand's cousin. He has come to see about the will. You can leave me, -Sammy. And I say, just drop a note to Mr. Calvert at the Frivolity -Theatre asking him to call." - -Sammy nodded, and passed out. As he did so Professor Bocaros stood -aside. Young Merry looked at the lean figure and solemn face of the -Greek, and then at the blazing eyes. He gave his opinion to himself as -the door closed on the client. "I shouldn't like to be in your power," -said Sammy. "I wonder if you inherit." - -Merry shook hands warmly with the professor, and placed a chair for -him. "It's a fine day. I am glad to see you, sir. Your cousin, poor -woman, often spoke of you to us." - -"Did she?" said Bocaros, looking keenly at the genial face of the -lawyer. "That is strange, considering we saw so little of one another. -By the way, your phrase--poor woman--leads me to believe that you have -heard from the police." - -"No. I have read in this paper of the identification of Mrs. Brand -with the woman who was murdered in Troy;" and Merry laid his hand on -the _Daily Budget_. "I suppose you have come to see me about the -matter. How did you learn the news?" - -"In the same way. A friend of mine brought the paper to me." - -"Oh!" Merry looked sharply in his turn. "Did this friend know that you -were Mrs. Brand's cousin?" - -"He did not. I usually get the paper every day from my landlady, Mrs. -Baldwin. I occupy a small house on her estate in Cloverhead----" - -"Where is that, sir?" - -"Near Troy. In fact it is the village around which Troy is built." - -"Oh!" Merry looked surprised. "Do you mean to say you live in Troy?" - -"I do. And not a stone-throw away from the house where poor Flora was -murdered." - -"Flora--ah, Mrs. Brand. I forgot her Christian name for the moment. So -you live there--a strange coincidence," said Merry cautiously. - -"So strange that I have come to ask you what I am to do," said the -professor, in his agitated way. "You will believe me, sir, that I know -nothing of the murder. All I know about it I read in the papers, and -gathered from Mr. Tracey." - -"Who is he?" - -"The engineer whose motor-car was stolen and found in Charing Cross -yard," said Bocaros. "The police said----" - -"I remember. Their theory was that the murderer escaped in the car. -But they didn't prove that at the inquest. Some one else might have -taken the car, though, to be sure, its abandonment in the station yard -looks as though the person merely wished to make use of it for escape. -However, that's not the point. You heard about the crime from Mr. -Tracey?" - -"Yes. And of course I read of it in the papers. But I never knew it -was my cousin till Mr. Tracey brought me the _Daily Budget_ yesterday. -Then I made up my mind to come to you." - -"Why?" asked Merry calmly. - -Bocaros looked surprised. "Why, you wrote to me stating that Mrs. -Brand intended to leave me an annuity." - -"She did intend to do so, but she changed her mind." - -"Yes, I know," said Bocaros, feeling his way carefully, for he was -surprised by Merry's attitude. "When she wrote to me, I went and saw -her. She said she would see that I wanted for nothing, and then she -told me that she had made a will in my favour." - -Merry looked up suddenly. He had been drawing figures on the -blotting-paper, apparently inattentive. But in reality he had lost -nothing of the conversation. Now he looked as though he would read the -heart of the man before him. "Mrs. Brand did make a will in your -favour," he said, "about a week before she died, but----" - -"What do you mean?" asked Bocaros. He was usually pale, but owing to -the significant looks of Mr. Merry, he flushed a deep red. "She told -me about the will, and I want to know--seeing that I live in Troy, and -benefit by her death--if there is any chance of the police suspecting -me?" - -"No," said Merry smoothly. "There is no chance. You don't benefit -under the will." - -Bocaros leaned back in his chair, and changed from red to white. "I--I -confess, sir, I do not understand," he stammered. - -"Mrs. Brand," went on the lawyer smoothly, "came and made a will, -leaving all her money to you. It amounts to ten thousand a year. She -also mentioned the annuity, but after some thought, she said we could -write to you saying she would allow you an income, but privately we -advised her not to bind herself. She did so. We wrote as you know. She -then said that she would pay you the income, as we stated in our -letter, and resolved to leave you her money. In fact we made a will -out to that effect." - -"So she told me," stammered the professor, "and then----" - -"Then she changed her mind like women do. In a few days she came back, -revoked the former will, and made a new one in favour of Arnold -Calvert, if you know who he is." - -"Arnold Calvert!" cried the professor, rising. "The actor?" - -"Yes. I have never seen him act myself; but I hear he is a very good -fellow, and I have no doubt, seeing how you have been disappointed, he -will let you have enough to live on. We have written to Mr. Calvert, -and expect him to call." - -Bocaros sat quite still, though in this speech he saw the downfall of -his hopes. Merry thought that being a foreigner he would break out -into a rage. But Bocaros did nothing of the sort. His face was white, -and he appeared to breathe with difficulty. Then he smiled, and drew a -long breath of relief. "So she has left me nothing," he said. "I am -glad of it." - -"Glad of it!" echoed Merry. - -"Yes. I was fearful lest the police should suspect me of having a hand -in poor Flora's death. Now that she has left me nothing, they can -never think I had any motive to kill her." - -"That's true enough," said Merry, puzzled; "but in any case I don't -see how the police can suspect you. It is true that you live near the -house where Mrs. Brand was murdered. But you no doubt can account for -your actions on that night." - -"No," said Bocaros unhesitatingly; "that's just where the difficulty -comes in. I live alone, and from five o'clock on that day I saw no -one. So far as the police are concerned, it would have been perfectly -easy for me to have killed Mrs. Brand, and have returned to my lonely -house without raising suspicion." - -"There's no need to incriminate yourself," said the lawyer, thinking -Bocaros was slightly touched. "I am quite sure that the police will -think as I do." - -"What is that?" - -"That if you were guilty, you would not be in such a hurry to put -yourself in the wrong." - -"I am not in the wrong; I am innocent." - -"Quite so. Well, there is no good discussing the matter. I suppose you -can throw no light on this strange death?" - -"None. I have told you all I know. But I trust that Mr. Calvert, -seeing he has inherited the money, will take up the matter, and hunt -down the assassin. Thinking I would inherit, I decided to do so -myself." - -"What do you mean?" asked the lawyer coldly, and jealous that the man -should trench upon his province. - -Bocaros looked surprised. "Can't you understand?" he said. "It is my -desire that the assassin of my poor cousin should be caught. I saw the -advertisement of a private inquiry office in the paper, and I went -there before coming to you." - -"Oh indeed," said Merry ironically. "And what did you say?" - -"I told the man I saw--his name is Jasher--of my cousin's death, and -of all the circumstances connected with it. I arranged with him that -he should take up the case. I asked him to see you." - -Merry shook his head. "That might do very well if you were the heir, -professor. But as matters stand, I do not see how you can pay." - -"No," said Bocaros dolefully; "yet I think Calvert should employ this -man, and see what can be done." - -"We will select the man who is to be employed," said Merry sharply. - -"In that case I'll hunt out the matter myself," declared the Greek, -taking up his hat. "I am determined to solve this mystery. Calvert----" - -"You may be sure that we will advise Mr. Calvert to do the right -thing," said Merry, rising in his turn. "He inherits ten thousand a -year, and I expect he will see that the assassin is brought to -justice, if such a thing is possible." - -"It is possible," said Bocaros determinedly. "My poor cousin must have -had some reason to go to that house. I don't know Fane, and I don't -know Brand. But one of these two men killed her." - -"What makes you say that?" asked Merry quickly. - -"It is Jasher's opinion on hearing the case." - -Merry reflected. "Send Jasher to me," he said. "If I approve of the -man, and Mr. Calvert is satisfied, we will employ him to take up the -case. I intend also to write to Inspector Derrick. By the way, can you -tell us of any circumstances in your cousin's life which may hint at -the reason for the committal of this crime?" - -"No. My cousin was a good, pure woman. I know of nothing. But her -death must be avenged. The assassin must be found----" - -"Lest you should be suspected," interposed Merry. - -"That amongst other things," said Bocaros, with dignity. "I am a poor -man, Mr. Merry, but I would give all I possess, which is not much, to -learn the truth." - -"If money can discover the truth, you may be sure the death of Mrs. -Brand will be avenged," said Merry, and held open the door for the -professor to pass through. "By the way, we will speak to Mr. Calvert -about an annuity." - -"No," said Bocaros, colouring, and with an indignant look. "Calvert is -a stranger to me. I do not accept money from strangers. Let him spend -it in learning who killed Flora. The only boon I ask of him is that he -should employ Jasher, seeing that I have given the case to the man -under a misapprehension." - -"Is Jasher a clever man?" - -"Very--so far as I can judge." - -"He seems rather given to jumping to conclusions," said Merry dryly, -"seeing that he accuses Mr. Fane, who proved an _alibi_ at the inquest, -and Mr. Brand, who is away in Australia. If his methods are like that, -I fear he will not do much good." - -"In that case you can employ another man. Here is my address," said -the professor, taking a card from his pocket. "Ask Mr. Calvert to call. -He is sure to be in my neighbourhood, as he is engaged to the -sister-in-law of Mr. Fane." - -He departed, leaving Merry quite stunned by this last piece of -intelligence. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -WHAT THE COOK FOUND - - -Mrs. Fane was seated in the White Room waiting for visitors. As usual -she was knitting, and every now and then glanced at her little girl, -who, washed and dressed and curled and bedecked with ribbons, played -with her doll. The child was very like her father, having the same -pink and white face and weak mouth. She was a pretty, pale creature, -with fair hair, almost white--what the Scots call linty--locks. Never -was there such a contrast as that between mother and child. The mother -firm, majestic, strong, composed; the child weak, restless, delicate, -and undersized. As Mrs. Fane looked at Minnie, she uttered a sigh, -being alone. Had any one been present, she would not have condescended -to such weakness. - -"Just like her father," thought Mrs. Fane, her firm, shapely hands -busy with the needles; "delicate, weak, irresponsible. I almost wish I -had married a strong man. I would have at least had healthy children. -No"--here she shook her head--"it's better as it is. I am my own -mistress and Walter's master. Better as it is." - -This complimentary train of thought was interrupted by its object. -Walter Fane, looking sleepy and dishevelled, entered the room. His -wife, who was richly and carefully dressed, looked at him with a -serene air, not without a touch of contempt. - -"I am expecting visitors," said she, in her calm way. "Don't you think -you had better brush yourself up?" - -"I don't intend to stop," replied Walter, listlessly staring out of -the window. - -"All the better. I don't care for tame cats," said Mrs. Fane. "A man -should be out in the open air, or at business." - -"You won't let me attend to the business," said Walter, shrugging. - -"If you were a man you would attend to it without my sanction. But -some one in this house must see to things, and if you won't the burden -must devolve on my shoulders." - -"As you please," said Fane, and sat down on the floor beside Minnie. -"It's pleasant enough playing with this darling." - -"I believe your brain is softening," said his wife, with a shadow of -anxiety. "Why don't you go for a yachting tour?" - -"I shall never yacht again, Julia. You will no longer have to complain -of my long absences. When is the house to be sold?" - -"In a month. I am arranging the business now. We will then go to -Switzerland." - -"I hate Switzerland." - -"Since you have decided to yacht no more, it doesn't matter if you -live there," said Mrs. Fane. "But you can choose your own place of -residence. It's all one to me, so long as I can see after the -business." - -"I don't see that we need go abroad at all," said Fane sullenly. - -"I see the necessity, and a very great one," retorted Mrs. Fane, with -a flash of her eyes. "Be guided by me, Walter. I know what is good for -you. And do get up from the floor. Laura will be in soon." - -"Fane rose reluctantly. I was sleeping this afternoon," he said, and -yet feel tired. "I think I'll dine at the club and go to the theatre." - -"As you please," said Mrs. Fane quietly, "so long as you don't trouble -me. And don't make love to any other woman," she added. - -"Julia," said Fane, pausing at the door, "do you really care for me as -much as that?" - -"My dear, every one has a weakness; pride is mine. I like you. I have -an affection for you, else I should not have married you. So long as -you look handsome and are well dressed, and show me the deference of a -chivalrous man to his lawful wife, I have no complaint to make. But if -you go after other women, and make me a laughing-stock amongst my -friends," added Mrs. Fane, drawing a deep breath, "I should not spare -you." - -Fane laughed, though rather uneasily. "One would think you would do -me an injury," he said, with another shrug. - -Mrs. Fane raised her eyes and looked at him steadily. "I might even do -that," she replied. "Don't hurt my pride, whatever you do. And if you -desert me in favour of----" - -"There's no chance of my doing that," said Walter irritably. "I -declare to heaven that I'm fond of you, Julia." - -"That is as it should be," retorted Mrs. Fane. - -Before her husband could reply there came a knock at the door, and -immediately afterwards a stolid young man in livery entered. Walter -slipped past him and got out of the room, while the man waited for his -mistress to address him. "Yes?" said Mrs. Fane interrogatively. - -"If you please, ma'am, the cook have gone mad," said the stolid man. - -"Really?" rejoined Mrs. Fane, letting her knitting fall on her lap, -but otherwise undisturbed. "And what form does her madness take?" - -"She says she's going to retire on a fortune, and insists, ma'am, on -coming upstairs to tell you. I think, ma'am----" The man hesitated. - -"Yes," said Mrs. Fane calmly; "I quite understand. This is the third -time she has indulged, and after assuring me that she had taken the -pledge. Send her up." - -"You will excuse me, ma'am, but cook really have found jewels." - -"What do you mean?" This time Mrs. Fane really was amazed. - -"She have found jewels in the dust-hole," stammered the man, and would -have gone on to explain, but that he was roughly brushed aside by a -large female clothed in purple silk of a cheap sort, with a black -velvet cloak trimmed with beads, and a bonnet profusely trimmed with -flowers. Her face was red, and her air was that of an excited person. -This was due partly to drink and partly to excitement, and partly to a -sense of fear at thus braving her mistress, of whom she had a great -dread. The moment she entered the room the footman departed hastily, -thinking there would be a row. He went down to the kitchen, and found -the rest of the servants much excited. It seemed that the cook really -had some cause for her behaviour. At the present moment she was -explaining herself to Mrs. Fane. - -"If you please, mum, I wish to leave this day--this hour--this -minute," panted the cook all in a breath; "my boxes being packed and my -best clothes being on." - -"Indeed!" Mrs. Fane eyed the splendour with a look which made the cook -wince. "I am afraid you can't leave. You get no wages if you do. Go -downstairs." - -"But I don't care for my wages. Far be it from me to rob you, mum. I -am as rich as you, having found a forting in the dust-hole." - -"Really! May I ask what it is?" - -"You'll take it from me, mum," said the cook mistrustfully. - -If you don't show it to me at once, Gander--this was the cook's -unusual name--"I shall send for the police." - -"O mum, think of the scandal. I won't----" then Gander caught the -steady eyes fixed on her. The drink and the excitement were dying out -under the chilling influence of Mrs. Fane's calmness, and the cook -collapsed. - -"It's this, mum," and from under the cloak she brought forth a dagger -with a slim steel blade and a hilt of gold richly encrusted with -jewels. These flashed red and blue and green and yellow in the stream -of sunlight that shone through the window. Minnie caught a sight of -the glitter and clapped her hands. "Yes, my pretty," said the cook -proudly, "it's lovely, ain't it. And all my own, having been found by -me in the dust-hole." - -"May I look at it, Gander?" asked Mrs. Fane. - -The cook, still under the influence of those cold eyes, handed it over -at once, talking while she did so. But she kept her treasure-trove in -sight, and despite her awe would have fought Mrs. Fane, had that lady -shown any signs of annexing the property. "It's jewels rich and rare -with gold, mum," said Gander poetically; "emerald and sappers and -dimings and them things you read of in the book of Revelations. I -shall sell it to a jeweller as I knows, and with the money I shall -become a lady. I don't know as I'll marry," pursued the cook -meditatively; "but I'll have a little house of my own, and sit all day -in the parlour in white muslin reading novels and----" - -"You really must not take so much to drink, Gander," said Mrs. Fane. - -The cook bristled up. "Ho, indeed!" she snorted. "I'm accused of -drink, am I, when my emotions is natural, having come in for a -forting. I read it in the candle last night, and in the tea-leaves two -weeks previous, and then I----" - -"Cook, don't be a fool! This is by no means so costly as you think." - -"It's worth a thousand, if I'm a judge of stones." - -"Ah! but you see you are not," said Mrs. Fane cruelly. "This dagger -belongs to me. It is only imitation gold and bits of glass." - -Gander dropped into a chair. "Lor!" Then with an enraged screech, -"Don't tell me deceptions, whatever you do, mum. My nerves won't stand -deceptions nohow." Here Gander put a large fat hand on her ample -bosom, and observed pathetically, "I feel all of a wabble, as you -might say." - -"I wore this," said Mrs. Fane, fingering the dagger, "at a fancy ball, -and threw it away along with some other rubbish. I suppose that is how -it got into the dust-hole." - -Had the cook been quite herself, and observant, she might have -doubted this explanation, which was certainly weak. Mrs. Fane's maid -would never have carried such a dazzling object to the dust-hole, had -she seen it amidst any rubbish her mistress might have cast aside. But -Gander, deceived by fortune, broke down sobbing at the disappointment -of her hopes. "To think my 'eart should be cast up to be likewise cast -down," she gurgled. "When I went with the ashbucket I sawr that objict -aglittering like anything, being stuck in the side of the dust-hole, -as it were." Mrs. Fane listened attentively. "The 'andle showed -beautiful under some cabbige stalks, and I thought as I was made for -life. O mum"--she clasped her hands, which were encased in green -gloves--"let me take it to my jeweller, and see if he don't think -them stones of price." - -Mrs. Fane, shaking her head, quietly slipped the dagger into her -pocket. "It's only rubbish," she insisted, "so I'll keep it here, as -it seems to upset you. Go downstairs, Gander, and see after the -dinner. I shall overlook your conduct this time, but don't let this -sort of thing occur again. And you might look at your pledge while -you're about it." - -The cook rose quite crushed, but made one last effort to regain -possession of the dagger. "Findings is keepings," she observed. - -"Not in this house. And even had the jewels been real you would not -have been able to keep them, seeing they were found on Mr. Fane's -premises. You can tell the other servants that the dagger belongs to -me, and is merely a theatrical article. Leave the room, Gander." - -"I'ave been hurt in my tender part," sobbed the cook, "and now I have -to go back and be a slave. All flesh is grass, mum, and----" Here she -saw from the glitter in Mrs. Fane's eyes that the patience of her -mistress was giving out, so she hastily retreated, and made things -disagreeable in the kitchen. Mrs. Fane's explanation about the weapon -was readily accepted in the kitchen, as none of the servants were -intelligent, and Gander was well laughed at for her disappointment. -That night the dinner was unusually good at Ajax Villa, as Gander, -fearful of losing her place, wished to make amends. - -When the cook departed Mrs. Fane reproduced the dagger, and looked at -it musingly. While she was daintily feeling the point, Minnie came up -and asked for the pretty thing to play with. "No, dear," said Mrs. -Fane, putting the child aside, with a shade passing over her face, -"it's mother's; and say nothing to Aunt Laura about it." This she -repeated rapidly as she heard Laura's step in the winter-garden. Then -kissing the child, she replaced the weapon in her pocket. - -Laura, looking quiet and subdued, entered, dressed for the reception. - -"No one here yet, Julia?" she asked, looking round. - -"No. Did you expect Mr. Calvert?" - -Laura looked annoyed. "I did not. He is not likely to come here." - -"So you said the other day. Yet I found him with Walter in this room -when I came to tell him about the name of the woman being discovered." -Mrs. Fane cast a long look at Laura, who took no notice. - -"I think we may as well drop the subject, Julia," said the younger -sister. "You will never do Arnold justice." - -"I would with pleasure were he rich," said Julia blandly. "But as he -is poor I wish to discourage your infatuation by all the means in my -power. Then again, Laura, you know very little about him." - -"What I do know is good," retorted Laura, sitting down. - -"Ah, but there may be some bad in him for all that. Has he told you -all his life?" - -"Yes. His father and mother died when he was a child, and he was -brought up by a guardian. He has a small property, and went on the -stage to make a name." - -"You have seen him act in this new piece?" asked Mrs. Fane, keeping -her eyes on the knitting, but listening with all her ears for the -answer. "I think you said something about going to the Frivolity with -that Baldwin girl." - -"I went with Gerty, and liked the play," said Laura coldly. - -"Is it a modern play?" asked Mrs. Fane. - -"Yes," answered Miss Mason, rather surprised at this interest being -taken in the drama, for which Julia had no great love. "It is a -three-act modern comedy, _The Third Man_." - -"I read the notice of it, Laura dear. I fancy I remember that in the -second act there is a fancy dress ball. I suppose Mr. Calvert wears a -fancy dress in that act." - -"He is dressed as a Venetian. Why do you ask that?" - -Mrs. Fane evaded the question. "My dear," she said gravely, "when I -found Mr. Calvert with Walter, I came to read about the two rooms, at -Hampstead and this house--being similar, you know. The paper said that -the other house--in Coleridge Lane, I believe--was owned by a Mrs. -Brand. Mr. Calvert admitted that he had a cousin called Flora Brand, -and I have a suspicion--no facts though--that this Flora Brand is the -woman who was murdered here." - -"You have no right to say that, Julia," said Laura quickly. - -"I have no ground to go on, certainly," admitted Mrs. Fane in a most -provokingly calm manner, "but I am certain that the woman was murdered -here, and that she is Flora Brand, Mr. Calvert's cousin." - -Laura, who was changing from red to white and from white to red, -looked straightly at Julia. "What do you mean?" - -"Mr. Calvert," said Mrs. Fane, "is dressed as a Venetian in the second -act of this play. Probably he would wear a dagger--as a Venetian he -would certainly wear a dagger--a stage dagger." - -"He does. What of that?" - -"Merely this." Mrs. Fane produced the dagger from her pocket. "This is -a stage weapon. The handle is tinsel and glass. It was found by Gander -in the dust-hole." - -Laura took the weapon and examined it with a pale face. "Go on." - -"Really, my dear, there is no more to say. I leave you to draw your -own inferences." - -"I understand," said Laura rapidly and in a low voice. "You think that -Arnold killed the woman?" - -"She was his cousin--the dagger is a stage weapon--Mr. Calvert often -came to this house. Put two and two together, my dear, and----" - -"Stop!" cried Laura furiously. "I don't believe it. Why should Arnold -come here and kill his cousin--if she is his cousin?" - -"He admitted she was." - -"He admitted, according to your own showing, that Flora Brand was. We -cannot yet be certain that the dead woman is Flora Brand." - -"Going by the similarity of the rooms----" - -"That may be a coincidence." - -"A very strange one, taken in conjunction with that dagger and the -relationship, of which I am fully convinced. Did you give Mr. Calvert -the latch-key?" asked Julia suddenly. - -"How dare you say that! Do you accuse me of aiding Arnold to kill the -woman?" - -"Ah! you admit that he killed her then?" said Mrs. Fane quickly. - -"No! no! you confuse me. The idea is ridiculous. I am losing my head -over your talk." Laura walked to and fro in an agitated manner. "He -did not--he did not. What motive could he have for killing----" - -"Laura"--Mrs. Fane rose with a determined air--"you know something, I -am sure. Walter noticed that you are not such good friends with this -man as you used to be. What do you know?" - -"Nothing!" panted Laura, as Mrs. Fane seized both her elbows and -looked into her eyes. "Let me go, Julia!" - -"Not until you tell me----" - -"Mrs. Baldwin," said the voice of the footman, and he threw open the -door. In a moment Mrs. Fane was her conventional self, and was holding -out her hand to the visitor. "How good of you to come," she said in -her sweetest tones. "Laura and I were acting a scene in a play she is -going to appear in. Amateur theatricals, you know," said Mrs. Fane, -giving the old lady no time to speak. "She takes the part of a girl -who is rather tragic. Do sit down, Mrs. Baldwin. The tea will be up -soon. How well you are looking." - -Bewildered under this torrent of words Mrs. Baldwin, whose brain never -moved very fast, sat down on the sofa and tried to recover herself. - -Laura, thankful to Julia for once in her life, concealed the dagger in -her pocket and retired to the window to recover her calmness. The -accusation of Julia had taken her by surprise, and she had been thrown -off her guard. As a matter of fact she did know something, but Julia -with her unsympathetic manner was the last person in whom she felt -inclined to confide. The two sisters in dispositions and tastes were -as far asunder as the poles. - -Mrs. Baldwin looked like a bird of paradise that had been out all -night in the rain. She was dressed in an ill-assorted assemblage of -colours. Some of her clothes were bran-new; others quite ancient. Her -gloves were different in size and colour, so evidently she had -snatched up one of Gerty's in a hurry. In fact, she seemed to have -dressed hastily, so uneasy was the set of her clothes. And from the -very candid confession that followed it appeared that she had, as she -put it, "taken the first things that came to hand." - -"If I had waited, I never should have made up my mind to come," said -Mrs. Baldwin in her complacent voice. "But after the professor told -me, I felt it was my duty to be the first to congratulate Miss Mason. -Such a change in the young man's prospects, ain't it?" - -"Are you talking of Mr. Calvert?" asked Mrs. Fane quickly, and with a -side-glance at Laura. - -"Of whom else?" responded Mrs. Baldwin genially. "My girl--Gerty's her -name--told me of the affection between Miss Mason and Mr.----" - -"Don't speak of it," interposed Laura, annoyed that this gossiping -woman should interfere in so delicate an affair. - -"Oh yes, do, Mrs. Baldwin," said Julia sweetly. "We were just talking -about Mr. Calvert when you came in." - -"I thought you were acting a play." - -"Quite so," rejoined Mrs. Fane, still sweetly. "And Mr. Calvert is to -act the lover. I was supposed to be the lover at rehearsal," she added -playfully. - -Laura did not contradict these enormous lies, as she would only have -had an unpleasant quarter of an hour with Julia when the visitor left. -"Who is the professor?" she asked, to change the conversation. - -"Why, my dear, you know him. The dark gentleman who occupies the damp -little house at the end of the meadow." - -"Yes, I believe he did speak to me once. But we had little -conversation. What did he tell you about Arnold--Mr. Calvert?" - -"Never be ashamed of speaking his Christian name, my dear," advised -Mrs. Baldwin. "Lovers will be lovers; eh, Mrs. Fane?" - -"It would seem so," said Julia serenely. "I dislike demonstrative -affection myself. But what did this professor say?" - -"Professor Bocaros is his name," said Mrs. Baldwin, who would tell her -story in her own slow way. "He told me that Mr. Calvert had come into -a fortune." - -"Into a fortune?" gasped Laura, turning even paler than she was. - -"Of course, my dear, you know all about it," said Mrs. Baldwin -playfully. "He told you that this poor woman who was killed here was -his cousin." - -Laura uttered an ejaculation and stared, but Julia interposed. "We did -hear something about it," she said. "Has this woman left Mr. Calvert a -fortune?" - -"So Professor Bocaros says," replied the other woman. "Ten thousand a -year. I suppose he'll spend some in finding how the poor soul came by -her death in this very room," said Mrs. Baldwin, with a shudder. - -"I suppose he will. Let us hope so," said Julia. "Laura, you are not -looking well. Had you not better lie down?" - -"Thank you," said Laura mechanically, and without a word left the -room. But Julia, with a hasty apology to the astonished Mrs. Baldwin, -followed, and outside the door caught her sister by the arm. "You -wanted to find a motive for Arnold Calvert committing this crime," she -said. "It was for the money." - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -THE INQUIRY-AGENT - - -Arnold Calvert occupied rooms in Bloomsbury; pleasant old rooms in a -house which had been fashioned in Georgian times. It stood in a quiet -street undisturbed by the noise of traffic or the shrieking of -children at play. Even organ-grinders rarely came that way, as the -neighbourhood was not remunerative. Consequently the house was mostly -occupied by people of delicate health who disliked noise. Mrs. Varney, -the landlady, was a motherly old person with rather a hard eye. At one -time she had been on the stage, and traces of that period appeared in -her deliberate movements and slow voice. She always seemed as though -she were reciting Shakespeare with appropriate gestures, although she -had played but minor parts in the dramas of the bard. - -Arnold was Mrs. Varney's pet lodger. As he was on the stage she -frequently gave him the benefit of her advice, and Calvert always -received her stale instruction with good humour and attention. This -obedience made her love him, and he benefited by having his rooms -better looked after and his food better cooked than any of the other -lodgers. Calvert had two rooms on the second floor, a bedroom and a -pleasant sitting-room, the window of which afforded a view round the -corner of the square out of which the street led. It was an -oak-panelled room with a painted ceiling, and furnished in very good -taste. Arnold detested the frippery with which many young men of the -present day cram their rooms, and his apartment was essentially -masculine. The carpet and hangings were of dull red, the chairs and -sofa were upholstered in leather, and on two sides of the room were -dwarf book-cases containing a well-selected library. Calvert was fond -of reading--a taste he had contracted at college, and kept well -abreast of the literature of the day. In one corner of the room -stood a small piano. Over the mantel-piece was a collection of -boxing-gloves, foils, masks, and suchlike things. Portraits of -Magdalen College--which had been Calvert's _Alma Mater_--and of those -men who had been his contemporaries, adorned the walls. Then there -were many portraits of Calvert in cricketing costume, in boating -dress, in cap and gown, and in some of his stage characters. -Altogether a manly, pleasant room, quite the place for a studious man -to dream and work in. And as Arnold lived a quiet life, he indulged in -literary pursuits, as the loose papers on his desk and the presence of -a typewriter demonstrated. - -He was fair and handsome, with a lean clean-shaven face of the classic -type. His hair was curly, and well brushed back from a high white -forehead, and his eyes were blue and deep. Most people have shallow -eyes like those of a bird, but there was a depth in those of Calvert -which betokened a man who thought. A handsome intellectual face on the -whole, and usually bright with good health, good humour, and -contentment. At present, however, it was rather clouded. - -The cause of this dismal expression was to be found in the presence of -two men who were seated near the window. Arnold himself, in -riding-dress, stood on the hearth-rug with his hands in his pockets. -He had come back from a ride that morning to find two gentlemen -waiting for him. "Professor Bocaros," said Mrs. Varney in the hall, -when she admitted him; "he's a gentleman though shabby. But the other, -called Jasher, is as vulgar as his vulgar name." - -"This was rather hard on Mr. Jasher, who was not so vulgar as the -landlady made out. He was as stout as Bocaros was lean--a fair, -complacent, well-fed, elderly man of the Falstaff tribe. Mr. Jasher -looked as though he knew a good dinner when he sat down to one, and -was quite able to appreciate delicate cookery and good wines. His -round fat face was red and freckled, with rather full lips, twinkling -grey eyes, humorous in expression, and his hair was plentiful if -rather grey. With his fat hands folded sleepily on his rotund stomach, -Mr. Jasher looked anything but an inquiry-agent. Yet that was his -profession, as announced by Professor Bocaros. Arnold had received the -intimation calmly, though with some astonishment. - -"Why do you bring this man to me?" he asked curtly. - -"Do you know who I am?" asked Bocaros in his turn. - -Arnold nodded. "I do. There was a certain relative of ours who -sometimes spoke of you." - -"Flora Brand?" - -Arnold nodded again. "Mrs. Brand," said he; "she was Flora Calvert, -the daughter of my uncle. Your aunt, professor, was, I understand, her -mother. But you doubtless know of the relationship, since she told me -that you had seen her." - -"Twice," interposed Bocaros quickly, and then wiped his mouth. "I saw -her five or six years ago, and then shortly before her murder." - -Jasher looked directly at Calvert as the professor made this -statement, hoping to discern some emotion. But Arnold's face, -doubtless owing to his stage training, betrayed nothing of his -feelings. It looked as cold as the face of a Greek god, which he -rather resembled in his looks. "I am aware that Mrs. Brand was -murdered," he said; "my lawyers, Messrs. Laing and Merry, told me so -the other day." - -"Did they tell you about the money?" asked Bocaros, his big black eyes -fastened eagerly on the face of his cousin. - -This time Calvert coloured a trifle, and shifted his rather direct -gaze. "Yes," he answered; "though I do not know by what right you ask -me such a question." - -"I am your cousin----" - -"Even that does not entitle you to take such a liberty." - -"Bocaros looked annoyed. I am the last man to take a liberty with any -one," said he coldly, while Jasher's twinkling eyes watched his face -and the face of Calvert alternately; "but Flora, when I saw her a week -before she was murdered, told me that she had made a will in my -favour. When I went to see Merry I was informed that she had changed -her mind and had constituted you her heir." - -"Quite so," assented the young man. "Mr. Merry told me all this, and -of your visit. I rather expected a visit from you, professor. You want -me to help you with money----" - -"I want you to offer a reward in order to learn who killed your--our -cousin," burst out Bocaros swiftly. - -Calvert bit his lip, and the blood rushed to his fair face. "You may be -sure that I will leave no stone unturned to learn the truth," he said, -and walked in a rather agitated manner up and down the room. At length -he came to a halt opposite Jasher. "You are a private inquiry-agent," -said he. "Mr. Merry informed me that the professor, under the -impression that he had inherited the money, employed you to hunt for -the assassin of poor Mrs. Brand." - -"Yes--yes," cried Bocaros, shifting his chair in great excitement. "And -I bring him to you that you may employ him. I am poor--yes, I am very -poor, but I do not want money. Spend what you would give me in paying -Jasher to discover the assassin." - -"Is this why you bring Mr. Jasher to me?" asked Arnold. - -"What else?" said Bocaros. "I only saw Flora twice, but I liked -her--she was good to me. I want to know who killed her." - -"All the world wants to know that, professor." - -"Pardon me," said Jasher, in his unctuous voice. "I do not think the -world in general cares very much, Mr. Calvert. The world has grown -tired of its nine days' wonder, and now is occupying itself in other -matters. I pointed this out to the professor, and proposed that you -should remunerate me for what I have done, seeing that he cannot pay -me, and let sleeping dogs lie." - -"Arnold looked up sharply. What do you mean by that expression?" he -asked quickly. "Have you discovered anything?" - -"Jasher produced a small note-book. I have set down one or two things. -At present I am collecting evidence. When I have sufficient I will -know how to move. But"--he closed the book--"if you would like me to -destroy these pages----" - -"Why the devil should I, man?" demanded Calvert, frowning. "As the -cousin and the legatee of Mrs. Brand, I am doubly concerned in -learning the truth. I agree to what the professor suggests. You shall -search out this matter, and find out who killed the poor woman. I will -bear all the expense. And if you bring the guilty person to justice, I -will pay you five hundred pounds." - -"Consider it done," said Jasher, nodding. "I'll engage to get at the -truth. Five hundred pounds is worth earning." - -"Are you satisfied?" asked Calvert, turning to Bocaros. - -The professor, strangely enough, seeing that his errand had not been -in vain, looked rather disappointed. "Yes," he replied hesitatingly; -"it is good of you. I am very pleased." He rose. "Now we will go." - -"No," said Arnold, touching him on the breast, sit down. "As I pay the -piper, I call the tune. Mr. Jasher has passed from your employment -into mine. I should like to know"--he turned to Jasher--"what you have -discovered so far." - -"Nothing easier," said Jasher, again opening his little book. "I have -learned details from the papers, from observation, from Professor -Bocaros, and from Mr. Tracey." - -"Tracey!" said Calvert, starting. "I remember. He was the American -whose car was stolen." - -"You know him better than that, Mr. Calvert," burst in the professor. -"He is engaged to Miss Baldwin, the great friend of the young lady whom -you are to marry." - -Arnold turned on the Greek sharply. "How do you know that?" - -"I live in a house near Mrs. Baldwin. She is my landlady. I know -Tracey and Miss Baldwin. I have met Miss Mason, and----" - -"And Miss Mason told you," interposed Arnold. - -"No. Mr. Tracey, informed by Miss Baldwin, told me. And it struck me -as strange," added Bocaros, in rather a venomous tone, "that you should -be engaged to the girl in whose house Flora was murdered." - -"It belongs to her brother-in-law," said Calvert coldly. "Do you mean -to hint, professor, that I know anything about this crime?" - -"No," interposed Jasher, making a sign to Bocaros to hold his tongue, -"he doesn't mean anything of the sort. Merely a coincidence, Mr. -Calvert, such as will occur in real life." - -"Of course." Bocaros nodded and spoke with less significance. "I mean -that it is merely a coincidence." - -Calvert looked from one to the other suspiciously, but set a mask on -his face so that they should not guess what was passing in his mind. -"We may as well understand one another," he said coolly. "If you, -professor, or you, Mr. Jasher, are under the impression that I have -anything to do with this crime--and you may think so from the fact -that being notoriously hard up and notoriously anxious to marry Miss -Mason I wanted this money--you are quite mistaken. I am engaged at the -Frivolity Theatre from seven till close on midnight every night. I can -prove what the law calls an _alibi_, and if you will apply to the -stage manager of the theatre, you may convince yourself of the fact." - -"My dear sir," said Jasher deprecatingly, since Calvert was now his -employer, "no one suspects you." - -"I thought from what Bocaros hinted----" - -"No! no! I said it was merely a coincidence," said the professor -quickly. "The very fact that you are willing to employ Jasher, and -offer so large a reward, proclaims your innocence." - -"I have no need to resort to such things," said Calvert angrily. "I -only learned that the dead woman was my cousin from the fact of the -White Room----" - -"But how did that lead to your identification of Flora with the dead -woman?" asked Bocaros shrewdly. - -Arnold seemed confused. "I saw in the paper that the White Room had -been remarked by a man called Webb, who had communicated with the -police. It was then found by Inspector Derrick that Mrs. Brand had -been missing. I fancied that she might be the unknown woman. I was -informed that this was the truth by Merry, who has communicated with -the police. I did not see the body or I would have been able to -identify it. But Derrick found a portrait of my cousin, and says it is -that of the dead woman." - -This was rather a roundabout explanation, and Bocaros curled his lip. -In spite of his denial he seemed to suspect Arnold. But that Jasher -touched his arm he would have asked a question. As it was he allowed -the agent to speak. "You knew that your cousin had such a room?" asked -Jasher. - -"Yes. Certainly I knew." - -"Then you have sometimes visited her?" - -"I have. My cousin and I were good friends. I did not see much of her -certainly, but I have been in her house." - -"Did you know that Mr. Fane had a similar white room?" - -"Yes. He told me it was his own idea. I said that some one else had -been beforehand. That I had a cousin who had such a room." - -"Did you mention your cousin's name?" - -"Not at the time. Flora said that the White Room was her own idea, and -Fane insisted that the idea was original, emanating from his brain. I -thought it was a coincidence." - -"There appear to be a great many coincidences about this case in -connection with you," murmured Bocaros, but of this remark Calvert for -his own reasons took no notice. - -"Seeing that your cousin was killed in the White Room in Ajax Villa, -Mr. Calvert," pursued Jasher, "did it not strike you that it would be -wise to draw the attention of the police to the other White Room?" - -"Certainly not. Why should I have connected Flora with the dead woman? -I never knew she was missing until the man Webb of Hampstead drew -attention to her disappearance, and by that time the White Room at -Hampstead had become known to the police. In fact, the room there, -taken in connection with Mrs. Brand's disappearance, made Webb write -to the police. I don't see how you can blame me." - -"I do not," said the agent patiently. "I am only trying to get at the -truth." - -"I don't know it." - -"You know Miss Mason, and she is the sister-in-law of Fane----" - -"What of that? Do you mean to hint that she----" - -"No! no!" said Jasher hastily; "but it was stated at the inquest that -Fane alone had the latch-key, that it was never out of his possession, -that the man who made it--invented that particular latch-key I may -say--never made another. How then did Mrs. Brand enter the house, and -how did she know that the family were at the seaside?" - -"I cannot tell you. Why do you ask me?" - -"I thought Miss Mason--seeing that you are engaged to her--might have -spoken out." - -Arnold's face grew red. "I forbid you to bring Miss Mason's name into -the matter," he cried imperiously; "she has nothing to do with this -affair. She was stopping with Mrs. Baldwin on that night, and never -went near Ajax Villa when her sister was absent. Fane and his wife -were at the seaside--so were the servants. How can you implicate any -of these people?" - -"I don't say that I can," retorted Jasher. "I am simply groping in the -dark. But the fact remains that Mr. Fane alone had the latch-key. It -must have been out of his possession so that some one could take an -impression and have a duplicate made, or----" - -"Well, or what?" - -"I'll tell you," said Bocaros coming away from the window, "or Mr. Fane -must have been the young man who spoke to the officer and who killed -the woman--poor Flora." - -"You forget," said Arnold coolly, "it was proved that the woman was -alive when the young man in question was talking to the policeman." - -"On the contrary," said the professor smoothly, "it was proved that the -woman--poor Flora--was dead three hours when the woman was singing and -the young man luring the policeman away." - -"How dare you say that the man lured the policeman away!" cried Arnold -furiously; "your ignorance of English law, professor, excuses your -loose talk. But you are accusing every one without any basis of fact. -What is your opinion, Jasher?" - -"I haven't got one as yet," said Jasher, putting his book away and -rising; "so far I can't see light. But I will go away and search, and -then come back to tell you if I have discovered anything." - -"In what direction will you search?" asked Calvert uneasily. - -"I shall search in the direction of the latch-key. Fane alone had it, -so I want to learn Fane's doings on that night." - -"He was at the seaside." - -"So he says," said Jasher significantly. - -"And so Mrs. Fane says," said Bocaros quickly. "Better look for the -young man with the pointed beard." - -"The police have looked everywhere and he has not been found," said -Arnold calmly, "and I don't think he will be found." - -The professor was about to speak when Jasher pulled him to the door. -When there he spoke. "By the way, Mr. Calvert, did you ever see Mr. -Brand?" he asked. - -"No. I never did." - -"Did you ever see his portrait?" - -"No"--but this time Calvert's denial was not so emphatic--"I didn't." - -Jasher nodded. "That's all right," said he. "I'll come back in a few -days and tell you about the latch-key." - -When the two withdrew, Calvert sat down in an armchair and buried his -face in his hands. His head was whirling, and his mind was much -troubled. So buried was he in his reflections that he did not hear the -door open. He was not conscious that any one was in the room till a -hand was laid on his shoulders. With a start he sprang to his feet. He -looked and saw Laura Mason. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -ARNOLD AND LAURA - - -The lovers looked at one another in terror. Calvert, surprised by -Laura's sudden entrance, had no time to compose his features. She, -seeing his face, and coming to him already filled with suspicions -against which she strove vainly to fight, reflected the paleness and -haggard looks which startled her. For the moment both masks had -dropped, and these human beings, devoured by terror, stared at one -another as though the fabled Gorgon had changed them into stone. -Arnold was the first to recover himself. He smoothed his face to a -smile, and held out his hands, which she took in a passive manner. "I -did not expect to see you here, dearest," he said, leading her to a -chair. "But how ill you look. Nothing is wrong, I hope." - -Laura sat down still gazing at him, but did not reply. "How does my -sister's maid come to be in this house?" she asked abruptly. - -"Your sister's maid?" he repeated, staring. - -"Yes; Emily Doon. I saw her in the hall as the landlady let me in. As -soon as she caught sight of me she vanished down the stairs to the -basement. And those two men----" - -"One question at a time, dear," said Arnold calmly. He had now quite -recovered his composure, and was prepared to deal with the situation. -"And I shall answer the last first. The men who left me are a Mr. -Jasher and Professor----" - -"Bocaros," cried Laura, striking her gloved hands together. "I thought -I knew his face. I saw him once at Mrs. Baldwin's. He lives in a -cottage across the meadow, and sometimes comes to borrow her paper. -What a horrid face--what a detestable man!" - -Arnold looked rather surprised at her vehemence. "I certainly do not -like the professor, and I met him to-day for the first time. It -happens oddly enough that we are connected." - -"Connected?" echoed Laura. "Wait; I have some sort of idea. The -professor told Mr. Tracey that he was a cousin of this woman who was -killed at Ajax Villa----" - -"Her mother was the aunt of Bocaros," explained Calvert. - -"And you are a cousin of the dead woman?" - -"She was Flora Calvert before she married Brand, the daughter of my -uncle. Bocaros and I are connected in a way by marriage. As to Mrs. -Fane's maid being here--we shall soon learn the reason," and he -touched the button of the electric bell. - -Mrs. Varney, with her majestic air and false smile, answered so -rapidly that it would seem she had been watching, if such a stately -female would descend so low. She smiled ingratiatingly on Laura, who, -without waiting for Arnold to speak, put the question. "I saw my -sister's maid, Emily Doon, as I entered," she said; "what is she doing -here?" - -"What eyes you have, miss, I declare," said Mrs. Varney in her deep -voice. "Yes, miss, it is Emily. She is my younger sister. I was a Miss -Doon before I became Mrs. Varney. Your sister kindly gave Emily -permission to spend a happy day with me, and this afternoon we are -going to a matinée--_Hamlet_," said the landlady in her most serious -voice, "the whole of it--lasting five hours." - -Having thus stated her case, Mrs. Varney waited in the attitude of a -startled fawn for a reply. Laura apologised. "I beg your pardon for -asking," she said colouring; "it is, of course, none of my business, -but I was naturally surprised at seeing Emily here." - -"Ah," Mrs. Varney cast a look at Arnold, "we know all, miss. Emily has -told me. Juliet's garden--and the Forest of Arden----" - -"We are engaged, Mrs. Varney," said Arnold, enraged by the -impertinence of the landlady. - -With her false smile she turned to the door. "Certainly, sir, but as -Miss Mason is in the Forest of Arden I would like her to know that -Emily is likewise there. That was why she was in the hall. She has an -eye to Professor Bocaros," burst out Mrs. Varney with pride; "he -admiring her greatly, and living in the vicinity of Ajax Villa. -Good-day, miss, and----" the landlady looked as though she would have -liked to add, "Bless you!" but an imperious glance from Arnold sent -her rapidly out of the room. Stately as Mrs. Varney was, she loved to -be bullied as all women in their hearts do. Arnold's imperious manner -only made her admire him the more. Had he been a bully in addition, -she would doubtless have adored him. - -"I don't like it, Arnold," said Laura, starting to her feet when the -door closed. "Professor Bocaros, in spite of his looks and poverty, is -a gentleman. Why should he take notice of Emily, who is merely a -servant? And she is here--oh, what does it mean?" - -Arnold, amazed by this outburst, looked at her in surprise. "My dear, -what does it matter?" he said, pressing her to resume her seat. "I -don't care if Bocaros marries a laundress. He has nothing to do with -me." - -"He is a dangerous man, and you are in his way." - -"Am I? What do you mean?" - -"Can't you understand, Arnold? He told Mr. Tracey that his cousin and -yours, Mrs. Brand, intended to leave him the money. I learned from -Mrs. Baldwin, who heard it from the professor himself, that you have -got the ten thousand a year. The professor is poor--from what Mrs. -Baldwin told me he is wretchedly poor. Do you think such a man will -tamely submit to the loss of a fortune? No, Arnold, no. He is -dangerous. Take care. If Emily Doon has an eye to marrying the -professor, she is not in this house for nothing." - -Calvert tried to soothe the excited girl. "My dear, you are unduly -suspicious. Mrs. Varney has given us the reason for the maid's being -here. Bocaros cannot harm me in any way----" - -"Are you so sure?" asked Laura sharply. - -"What do you mean?" he asked. - -"I mean that you will not be open with me. I love you. Have I not -proved how I love you. Julia is against our marriage: but in spite of -what she says I have remained true to you. Yet you will not trust me?" - -"With what? I am quite in the dark." - -He may have been. Yet there was a deep colour in his cheeks, and he -looked uneasy. Laura saw these symptoms of emotion, and placed her -hands on his shoulders. "Arnold," she said earnestly, "if you have any -love for me you will speak out. Look at this!" she hastily drew from -her pocket the stage dagger. "This is yours?" - -"It is," he admitted readily, and with a look of great surprise. "If -you remember it was bought by me for the second act of this play. I -showed it to you and----" - -"You did. You showed it to me before the murder!" - -Arnold looked at her in silence. "Perhaps you will permit me to -explain," he said coldly, "as I really do not understand what you mean -by such a speech. I lost that dagger----" - -"You threw it into the dustbin after killing that poor woman!" - -"Laura!" Calvert rose to his feet pale and trembling. From being a -calm and resolute man he suddenly seemed to change into a coward. With -white lips and a drooping figure, he stood in the middle of the room. -"You will never say anything more cruel than that to me," he said in a -low voice, and covered his face. - -Laura looked with sudden joy overspreading her face. "You are -innocent," she cried, running to throw her arms round his neck. "I -knew it. I was certain. Dearest, I never believed--never. I said what -I did say only to try you. But I know now that you did not kill this -woman. I feel it in my heart. You forgive me--you forgive me--come, -kiss me, Arnold--kiss me and make friends." - -In a lifeless manner he kissed her, and then submitted to be taken to -his former seat. "Now that we understand one another," said Laura, -sitting down and keeping his hand imprisoned within her own, "we must -have a long talk. You are innocent----" - -"How can you be sure of that?" - -"Because I am," she replied determinedly. "No, Arnold. Even if you -swore that you were guilty I would not believe it. I tried you by -making what you truthfully call a cruel speech, and your reply, -although it may sound nothing to other people, brought conviction into -my heart. But if I trust you, other people don't. This dagger!" - -"Where was it found?" asked Calvert, examining it, but still pale. - -"In the dustbin. The cook found it. She brought it to Julia, who -pretended that it was one she had worn at a fancy ball. Then Julia -hinted at your guilt, from the fact that you must have worn such a -dagger in the second act of the play. I denied that this was so, and -came to see you. Arnold, you must be plain with me. For some time, -since the murder in fact, you must have seen how I have avoided -you--how I have kept out of your way." - -"Yes," he said with bitterness, "I saw that. When I called at the -house on that day a week or so ago, you avoided me. You have hardly -replied to my letters save in the coldest way. You suspect me----" - -"No," answered Laura quickly; "I do not, though I have cause to." - -Arnold looked at her keenly. "What do you mean?" he asked quietly. - -"Surely you remember the appointment you made with me?" - -"What appointment?" he said, still eyeing her, and the colour again -ebbing from his face. - -"For the night of the 24th July at half-past nine--on the very night -that poor creature was killed." - -"Laura!" his voice was firmer now, and his looks expressed amazement; -"it was you who made the appointment. You sent me----" - -"Wait, Arnold. One thing at a time. There is something terrible and -mysterious about this. I suspect pitfalls and snares likely to bring -us into danger. I say, and I can prove it, that you made the -appointment. I have your letter in my pocket asking me to meet you at -half-past nine on that night. I would have destroyed it so as to put -away all evidence of your having been at Ajax Villa on that night, but -I kept it, as I wished to show it to you, and to ask how you came to -gain possession of Walter's latch-key!" - -"You sent it to me!" he said, much astonished. "I have your letter -also. The key was lost." - -"You dropped it in the road when you spoke to the policeman?" - -Arnold nodded. "But how did you guess that I was the man who left the -house--the man for whom the police are searching?" - -"Mulligan described your dress and said you had a pointed beard. You -have such a suit and such a beard in the last act of the play. I knew -then that you came later than I expected to keep the appointment, and -in your hurry you had left the theatre without waiting to change your -clothes or take off the false beard." - -"In that case," said Arnold, very pale, "you must think me guilty of -Flora's death, seeing that I left the house when----" - -"No," interrupted Laura quickly; "you did not come, at half-past nine, -for I was at the gate waiting for you. I rang the bell, since you said -you would admit me in your letter. As you came finally in your stage -clothes, you must have been unable to get away earlier from the -theatre. Therefore, as Flora was murdered before nine o'clock you must -be innocent. But I never thought you guilty," she added tenderly, -wreathing her arms round his neck, and whatever any one said I would -never believe you killed the woman. You are not the man to commit a -brutal murder. "Yet Arnold," her arms dropped and she looked anxious, -"the evidence is strong. This dagger is yours, you left the house, the -police are looking for you and----" - -"All that goes for nothing, seeing I was not at the house before nine -o'clock." - -"You were not?" she exclaimed joyfully. - -"No! Listen, Laura, and I will tell you the whole truth and you will -see why I kept silent. Like yourself--seeing that you deny writing the -letter----" - -"Show it to me. We must have a clear ground before we can go further. -Here is the letter I received. Look at it while I see if Mrs. Varney -is lurking outside. I don't trust that woman, and now that I know my -sister's maid, who loves Professor Bocaros, is here, I trust her less -than ever. O Arnold, how I wish I had come to see you before!" - -"It would have been better. Why did you not?" - -"I was afraid. Arnold, how could I come to you and declare that the -man I loved was guilty? I did not believe it--no--but I knew that you -had the key--that you had been in the house on that night!" - -"I can explain that," said Calvert quickly; "see if all is safe and -return to your seat." - -While Laura peered outside the door, he opened a cash-box and took -therefrom a letter. This he laid open on the desk beside the letter -given to him by Laura. When she returned, having ascertained that the -coast was clear, he pointed to this last. "I never wrote that," he -said firmly; "it is a forgery." - -"And the letter you received is one also," said Laura, staring at the -document; "and oh, what a clumsy one! See--I do not separate my words -like that. I often forget to dot my 'i's' and cross my 't's.' The -signature is excellent--exactly like mine, but the rest of the letter -is very bad--not at all a good imitation." - -"But you will observe," said Arnold, pointing again, "that you end -'yours in haste.' I thought the hurried writing was thereby accounted -for. Although I never suspected but that the letter was yours, I -certainly thought that the calligraphy was different to your usual -neat handwriting." - -"I always write neatly," she replied, "and this letter is one I should -have been ashamed to send out. But I use this colour and texture of -paper," she sniffed it, "and the same kind of scent. I wonder how the -person who forged this came to get my stationery. But, Arnold, your -letter is written from the theatre--here is the printed name both on -the envelope and inside sheet. How could I doubt but that the letter, -was yours. It came to me by post at Mrs. Baldwin's." - -"And yours containing the latch-key came on the afternoon of the 24th -July. It was delivered by messenger to Mrs. Varney, who brought it to -me." - -"What do you mean by containing the latch-key?" - -"Let us examine the letter first. Then you will see!" - -The letter to Arnold at his lodgings, written on perfumed, -lavender-tinted paper, contained a few hurried lines asking him to -meet Laura at Ajax Villa on the night of the 24th July at half-past -nine. "I may be a little late," the letter continued, "so I send you the -latch-key, which I got from Walter who is at the seaside. You can let -yourself in." The letter ended with an admonition not to fail to keep -the appointment, and was signed with what appeared unmistakably to be -Laura Mason's signature. - -"I never wrote a line of it," said Laura, very pale; "and I never sent -the latch-key. Walter was at the seaside certainly, but he would not -have given me the key out of fear of Julia. I stopped with the -Baldwins and never went to the villa while Julia was away." - -"The letter to Laura at Mrs. Baldwin's, written on paper belonging to -the Frivolity Theatre, likewise contained a few hurried lines saying -that the writer would be with her as asked, at half-past nine on the -night of the 24th of July, that he would obey instructions if he was -early and admit her into the house if she rang the bell. It also -stated that his understudy would play his part in _The Third Man_ so -that the appointment could be kept. - -"I never wrote a line of that," said Arnold when Laura had finished -reading the letter. "When did you get it?" - -"On the afternoon of the 24th. I was astonished, as I knew I had not -written you a letter about the villa, and I wondered how you would be -able to let me in." - -"Now observe, Laura," said Calvert, sitting down, "both these letters -are delivered to you and I so late that there is no chance of our -meeting for an explanation save at Ajax Villa. It seems to me like a -trap--whether for you or for me I cannot say--perhaps for us both." - -"Did you really come to the villa?" asked Laura, knitting her brows. - -"I did. You were right in your guess about my being the man who spoke -to Mulligan. When I received your letter I asked the manager to let my -understudy take the part. He made some objection, but finally he gave -permission for the change. Then I came home, intending to keep the -appointment at half-past nine, and wondering what you wished to say, -seeing that we had met three days previously, and then you had given -no hint of your possession of the latch-key." - -"I wondered in exactly the same way," exclaimed the girl. "I said to -Mrs. Baldwin on Saturday night--_the_ night you know--that I would go -out for a stroll, the evening being hot. Gerty was at the theatre with -Mr. Tracey. I then went to the villa at half-past nine or a little -later. I did not see you, and but few people were about. I slipped -into the garden so as not to be seen waiting in the road. I was afraid -lest any of Julia's friends should see me. I then rang the bell -somewhere near a quarter to ten, thinking you had arrived and were -within. I rang and rang but no one appeared, so I fancied you had not -been able to get away from the theatre, and returned to Mrs. Baldwin. -I said I had been strolling in the Nightingales' Walk." - -"Did you see a light in the room where the crime was committed?" - -"No! Had I done so I should have waited. But the villa was quite in -darkness," said the girl decisively. "You did not come?" - -"I did later. There was a chapter of accidents. I came home rather -tired and lay down to sleep after dinner. When I awoke it was nine -o'clock. How I came to oversleep myself I can't say. I usually waken -when I wish. Then a message came from the theatre just as I was -getting ready to come--although I knew I would be late for the -appointment. My understudy was taken ill, so I had to go back and -finish the play. Afterwards, so eager was I to see if you were -waiting, that I left the theatre without changing my clothes. I took a -fast cab and reached Achilles Avenue about twenty or fifteen minutes -to eleven." - -"Did you drive up to the door?" asked Laura. - -"No; I thought, for your sake, it was best to keep my visit quiet. I -left the cab in Circe Street, and walked to the villa. No one was -about. I went into the garden, but did not see you. I then walked into -the house, letting myself in by the front door. I knew that you must -have gone away, but I opened the door, just to see if you had left a -note. Also I saw a light on the second story and fancied you must have -got in and were perhaps waiting for me. These things are rather -contradictory," added Arnold, passing his hand across his face, "but -the mystery of your letter and the appointment rather worried me. -However, I went in, and up to the White Room. There I saw a woman -lying, dead face upwards on the mat before the piano. I saw that she -was my cousin and was horrified. I turned the body over, and found -the wound. She had been murdered. I was horrified. At first I intended -to give the alarm. Then I thought that I might be accused of the -crime----" - -"But you had no motive," said Laura, "unless you knew that the money -would come to you in the event of her death." - -"I did not know that," said Arnold quickly; "no one was more -astonished than I when I heard of the will. But at the time I was -overcome by the horror of the deed. I had not my wits about me. I -wondered how Flora came there. Then, my being her cousin and having -the latch-key. O Laura, can you not guess that I lost my head! waited -to see how I could escape. I went down the stairs, and then opened the -door. Mulligan was leaning over the gate. I went and spoke to him, and -escaped in the way the papers stated. I lost the latch-key and so I -was connected with the matter. Thanks to my stage dress and make-up, -no one thought I was the man mentioned in the papers. I did not come -forward at the inquest. Now that the money has come to me, I dare -not come forward. Here is the motive for the commission of the -crime,"--Arnold walked up and down the room feverishly---"no one will -believe me guiltless. Laura, don't ask me any more. The peril of my -position overwhelms me." - -"Darling." Laura rose to embrace him. "I believe in your innocence. We -will find out who killed the woman. Do you suspect any one?" - -"No," said Arnold after a pause, and with an effort; "how can I suspect -any one? I know very little of my cousin. But now that I have the -money, I intend to learn the truth. Laura, Professor Bocaros seems to -suspect me. I can't say why he should. He cannot possibly know I was -at the villa on that night. He brought Jasher to me, and to avert all -suspicion, I engaged Jasher to hunt for the assassin." - -"O Arnold, have you laid that bloodhound on your own track?" - -"Yes; it seems foolish, but it is wise. Even if Jasher does learn that -I was at the villa, he will say nothing if I pay him well. He is a -venal creature, as I gathered this morning. He may find the real -criminal, and take this horror out of my life. If he does not, he will -never hurt me if I pay. It is the professor I fear." - -"We must keep the professor quiet, Arnold. Let Mr. Jasher hunt. He may -learn the truth, and that is better than this suspense. But what of -the dagger I brought you?" - -"It is mine. But after showing it to you I went to see my cousin. I -left it there, I fancy, and it must have been Flora who took it to -Ajax Villa--Heaven knows why! Laura, what is to be done?" - -"Wait! wait!" she said, with her arms round him. "You are innocent, -and your innocence will be proved. You employ Jasher. I shall ask Mr. -Tracey to help me." - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -ON THE TRACK - - -Mr. Jasher was a man who in his time had played many parts on the stage -of the world. He loved money, and the ease and comfort which a -judicious expenditure of money would procure. But he was not -sufficiently successful in making an income. Several ventures had -turned out badly before he opened his private inquiry-office, and -hitherto that had not seemed likely to be a triumph. The work was hard -and the pay not very good, and for some months Mr. Jasher had been -contemplating the wisdom of giving up the business and starting as a -theatrical manager. He was fond of the stage, and in the United States -he had produced several dramas at a dead loss. But the English people -being less clever than the Yankees, Jasher thought he would again -venture on a theatrical agency. - -It was about this time that Professor Bocaros called to see him. A -chance of making a great deal of money out of the simple scholar -presented itself to Jasher, and he took up the matter himself. It was -so difficult that the detective--for so he was in fact--did not think -it wise to trust the elucidation of the mystery to meaner hands. He -resolved to attend to it personally, and charge accordingly. The -discovery that the money had passed to Calvert was not pleasing to -Jasher, as he had now to deal with a man more shrewd and less inclined -to pay largely. However, supported by Bocaros, Jasher called at the -Bloomsbury lodgings of the actor, and ended, as has been seen, in -getting the business of hunting down the assassin of Flora Brand. It -was not an easy mystery to unravel. - -"But the first thing to be done," said Mr. Jasher to himself in the -solitude of his office, "is to find out what sort of a cove Calvert -is. If he's what I call a stinger, I'll have to go straight. If he -ain't, I'll buckle to and do my best. But in any way I'll get all the -money I can out of him." - -In pursuance of this amiable resolve, Jasher sought out several -theatrical folk whom he knew well. The report of Calvert was that he -had a strong will, but was very good-natured. It was considered that -he would never be an actor, and old-fashioned stagers believed that it -was merely through his good looks and his fashionable clothes he -obtained engagements. But Jasher knew the jealousy of those connected -with the green-room, and determined to see Calvert act with his own -eyes. According to the force and talent displayed by the young man, he -might be able to estimate the depth of his character. - -Having thus made up his mind, Jasher treated himself to a seat in the -pit of the Frivolity Theatre. The audience was small as the play was -not a great success. "It's a good thing he's got this fortune," was -the agent's reflection, "as this piece won't run long; and being out -of an engagement, he wouldn't have much chance of marrying that girl -he's sweet on, according to old Bocaros." - -The play was not a good one; the best scene being in the middle act, -wherein a masked ball took place. Calvert was dressed as a Venetian, -and looked remarkably handsome in black velvet and gold. During the -scene he had to draw his dagger, and this drew Jasher's attention to -the fact that he wore such a weapon. But he did not give the matter -much thought. It was only when Arnold came on in the last act in a -tweed suit with a reddish pointed beard that he started. It occurred -to him that he had heard from a friend in the police of how the young -man met by Mulligan had been thus attired. A description of the young -man, save in a vague way, had not been put into the papers. And -probably Jasher, but that his mind was full of the murder, would not -have noticed the dress and general appearance. As it was, the -remembrance of the dagger and the fact of the tweed suit and pointed -beard made him reflect. Also the fact that Arnold was engaged to the -sister-in-law of the man to whom the villa belonged made him lay -unusual stress on the matter. - -"Blest if I don't think he's got something to do with the matter, -professor," he said to Bocaros that same evening. - -The Greek, anxious to know how matters were proceeding, had made an -appointment with Jasher at a Soho restaurant after the theatre, and -was now at the supper-table looking more haggard and lean than ever -with his blazing eyes and funereal looks. Disappointed at being -deprived of Mrs. Brand's fortune, Bocaros--as Laura surmised -rightly--was angry with Arnold for having obtained it. The remarks he -had made in the young man's presence were mere fault-finding words, as -he had no reason, on the face of it, to suspect him of being connected -with the crime. Moreover, Arnold's ready acceptance of Jasher as an -agent to search out the matter must have done away with all idea that -he was guilty. No man would be such a fool as to put a bloodhound of -the law on his own track, and when he had succeeded in gaining his end -without danger. But when Jasher made the above remark Bocaros looked -at him eagerly. - -"That is my idea," he declared quickly. "I have no grounds to go upon. -But Calvert is engaged to Miss Mason. In her brother-in-law's house -Flora was killed, so he must know something." - -"Oh, I don't see that," mused Jasher; "you go too fast, professor. Of -course those facts, and the fact that he gets a large income, may seem -suspicious, but being engaged at the theatre every night puts his -guilt out of the question. But to learn all I can about Calvert, I -have asked his understudy to come to supper." Jasher glanced at his -watch. "He'll be here soon, and then we can talk." - -"From your description," said Bocaros, who stuck to his point, -"Calvert is the young man who spoke to Mulligan." - -"I think that. He has the clothes and the beard described by the -officer. But if he was the man, he would hardly be such a fool as to -retain such a make-up." - -"Yes, he would," persisted Bocaros; "safety often lies in danger. If -Calvert had changed his make-up and a description had appeared in the -papers, suspicion would have been excited." - -"True; but no description appeared, or only a vague one." - -"Calvert did not know that. He thought it best to keep to his make-up, -trusting that people--who are generally stupid--would never connect -his stage appearance with that of the man in real life. He is the man, -I am sure, and he came out of the house." - -"But it doesn't say he killed Mrs. Brand." - -"He had ten thousand a year to gain by doing so." - -"Quite right. But the woman was killed before nine, and during that -hour Calvert was engaged at the theatre." - -"That's true enough," said the professor gloomily, "all the same it -seems queer. I believe he is guilty." - -"Hush!" said Jasher, looking round uneasily; "don't talk so loud. You -never know who may hear. Keep to generalities. Ah, here is Hart." - -"The young man who came to the supper-table was a languid and -fashionable youth, who, having run through his money, had gone on the -stage to delight the public. As yet he had not made a success, and, -judging from his looks, never would. Having got into trouble over some -gambling debt, he had enlisted the services of Jasher. That astute -gentleman had managed to settle the affair, and Hart was consequently -willing to be friendly. He sat down with a bored air, and declared -that he was almost dead. He acknowledged his introduction to Bocaros -with a slight and supercilious nod. - -"You work too hard," said Jasher, when Mr. Hart was engaged in eating. - -"It's hard work hanging round the theatre waiting for a chance," said -the other. - -"You have got one," said the detective; "ain't you engaged at the -Frivolity Theatre?" - -"Only as Calvert's understudy," said the discontented youth. "I have to -be at the theatre waiting for my chance should he fall ill. He's too -clever to let me go on, and he can't act a bit. I could make a -magnificent part of the one he spoils." And Hart began to explain the -lines upon which he would--as he put it--create the part. - -"Have you never had an opportunity of playing?" asked the professor, -piling up little bits of bread in a listless manner. - -"I had once," said Hart frankly, "but just my bad luck. I messed up -the chance." - -"Ah," said Jasher quickly, "how was that?" - -"Well, don't you say anything," said Hart, glancing round, "as it -would do me harm with the profession. Nobody will take much notice so -long as it ain't talked about. It's only known in the theatre, and -Calvert, who is a good-natured sort of chap, promised to hold his -tongue." - -"Oh," said Bocaros, meaningly, and looking up with eagerness, "he -promised to hold his tongue, did he? About what?" - -"My messing up my chance. You see Calvert didn't feel well one night, -and I went on. I did act A1, and was scoring all round, when I got so -excited that I fell ill. My heart ain't very strong," added the youth, -"and that's why I can't take Turkish baths." - -"Well, well," said Jasher, looking a very benevolent stout gentleman, -and sipping his wine with relish, "what happened when you fell ill?" - -"Why, they had to send for Calvert. Luckily he was at his lodgings." - -"Also ill?" put in the professor. - -"No. He said he was ill, but he wasn't. He came and took my place for -the last act, and they said he never acted better in his life." - -"About what time does the third act commence?" - -"About ten." - -"And Calvert came to the theatre at that time?" - -"A few minutes before," said Hart, attacking some cheese. - -"So he was disengaged on that evening up to that time. Ill at home?" - -"He was away from the theatre, if that is what you mean," said the -young man, "but he wasn't ill, so far as I know, in spite of what he -said. It was a fake of some sort. I guess there was a girl in it." - -"What do you mean?" asked Bocaros excitedly. - -Hart started. "Why, nothing. Only some of our chaps were ragging him -about getting away that evening to meet a girl." - -"Did he deny that he was going to do so?" - -"No. He laughed and coloured. A shy chap is Calvert." - -Bocaros intervened. "Can you tell me what night this was?" - -"What do you want to know for?" asked Hart suspiciously. - -"It's merely curiosity," said Jasher smoothly; "you needn't trouble -about the matter, if you don't like." - -"I don't care two straws," said Hart, with a good-natured laugh, "but -I can't understand what you fellows are driving at. Catch me -forgetting the night I got my chance. It was the 24th of July." - -"Jasher and Bocaros looked significantly at one another, but the -interchange was lost on Hart, who was attending to his wine. The -conversation then drifted into subjects connected with Mr. Hart's -career, and he finally departed quite unaware that he had been made -use of. - -"What do you think now?" asked Bocaros triumphantly. - -"Well, Calvert was absent on that night, and he resembles the young -man who lured Mulligan away. Also he wears a dagger in the second act -of the play which he might have used." - -"He did use it," said the professor positively; "the wound was made by -a stiletto, according to the medical evidence. It is a stiletto he -wears. And he was absent between six and half-past nine, the very time -the doctor said the woman was killed. Besides," went on Bocaros -excitedly, "Calvert knows Fane very well. He might have thus obtained -possession of the key." - -"Fane swore it was never out of his possession. - -"He may have done that to shield Calvert, seeing the man is going to -marry Miss Mason." - -"True enough," said Jasher, rising. "Well, Calvert himself has given -me the funds to prosecute the search. It will be queer if I run him -down. I guess he'll be willing to let sleeping dogs lie if I do run -him to earth." - -"No," said the professor determinedly; "if Calvert is guilty he must -be punished." - -"You leave matters in my hands," retorted Jasher, his good-natured -face growing black. "I'm going to make money out of this." - -Bocaros changed the subject, for no apparent reason. "How did you get -money to prosecute your inquiries?" - -"Calvert told his solicitors to give me what I wanted. I saw Merry, -and obtained a cheque for fifty. That's enough to go on with." - -"What do you intend to do now?" - -"Go to his lodgings and see what his landlady knows." - -Bocaros thought. "There's another thing you might do," said he. "I -know that Emily Doon is the sister of Calvert's landlady. You might -question her. She will be with her sister to-morrow, and, as you know, -she is Mrs. Fane's maid." - -Jasher looked keenly at the professor. "That's the girl you are sweet -on," he said smiling. - -"What if I am?" returned Bocaros sharply; "she is a nice, good girl, -and handsome. She adores me," cried Bocaros, on whose head the -unaccustomed champagne had taken effect, "and I will marry her when I -am rich." - -"Will you ever be rich?" - -"If Calvert is the man who killed Flora Brand, yes," said Bocaros, and -with a grim smile he departed. Jasher looked after him and shrugged -his shoulders. - -"I must keep you in order," said he to himself, "or you will spoil the -whole thing." - -But however little the detective may have trusted Bocaros, he made -use of the information he had received. At three o'clock the next day -he went to ask if Calvert was at home. But he did not make the inquiry -until he saw Calvert drive away in a cab. Mrs. Varney appeared with -her ingratiating smile, and assured him that the young man was out. -"He has gone to Troy," said Mrs. Varney, "but of course we know what -that means. A handsome young lady, Mr. Jasher." - -"Hullo!" said the detective, starting; "and how do you come to know my -name, ma'am?" - -"Oh,"--Mrs. Varney tossed her head in a light-comedy way--"my sister -knows the professor, and the professor knows you. The fact is----" - -"Oh, that's all right. The professor (and a nice gentleman he is, -though but a foreigner) told me of his weakness." - -"Weakness, indeed!" This time Mrs. Varney frowned as a tragedy-queen. -"Professor Bocaros ought to be proud of having a handsome young lady -like my sister admiring him." - -"Well," said Jasher, who wished to get an interview with Miss Doon, -and guessed the right way to go about the matter, "he is a man who -will be able to give her a good position." - -"Do you know everything about him?" asked the landlady eagerly. - -"Everything. I am his man of business," lied Mr. Jasher. - -"Oh!" She looked longingly at the detective, not suspecting his real -profession. "Won't you come inside for a few minutes. My sister is -with me, and I am sure she would be pleased to meet Mr. Bocaros's man -of business. When she marries him she will naturally be brought much -into contact with you." - -"I fear I am too busy, ma'am," said the man, playing his fish. - -"Oh, but do come in," pleaded Mrs. Varney. - -"Well, then, for five minutes," said Jasher, and this was how he came -in a short time to be seated in a cosy parlour opposite to a tall, -bold-looking young woman, with a hard mouth and big eyes almost as -large and black as the professor's own. She resembled her sister in -looks, and was scarcely less theatrical. After expressing her pleasure -at seeing Jasher, and being determined--as he soon saw--not to let him -go until she knew everything about Bocaros, she invited him to a cup -of tea. Mrs. Varney went out to get the tea, and Jasher found himself -being pumped by Miss Doon. - -"I met the professor quite casually," she said, "having been insulted -by a man one evening in the Nightingales' Walk. I cried for help, and -the professor smote the ruffian to the earth. Then he asked me into -his rustic home, and was quite the gentleman. We have been quite the -best of friends for over a year," sighed Miss Doon sentimentally, "and -lately he has given me to understand that he desires a nearer and -dearer tie." - -"Why don't you marry him, then?" - -Miss Doon smiled and looked significantly at the detective. "I do not -care about living in so damp a house as 'The Refuge,'" she said. "I -will marry the professor when he can give me a better home. I suppose -he is not well off?" - -"At present he isn't," said the professor's man of business, "but some -day he may come in for a few thousands a year." - -"Oh!" Miss Doon gasped, "how delicious. I would certainly marry him -then and leave my present place. Not that I have anything to complain -of," she added graciously, "but I have always felt that it was my high -lot to be a lady of rank." - -"Quite so. And if the professor gets this money he can resume his -rank, which is that of a Greek baron." - -"Oh, good gracious!" Miss Doon gasped again; "then I would be the -Baroness Bocaros." - -"Certainly. But you had better stop in your place for a time till the -professor gets his money. I suppose you get on well with Mrs. Fane?" - -"We are like sisters," said the fair Emily; "she entrusts me with all -her secrets." - -"Has she secrets?" asked Jasher quickly. - -Miss Doon coloured, tossed her head, and bit her lip. She saw that she -had said too much. "I am true to my mistress, sir," said she loftily, -"and what she asked me to do, I did, without betraying her." - -Jasher was puzzled. He thought the girl was a fool to talk thus, and -wondered what Mrs. Fane could have asked her to do. However, it was -not a propitious moment to get the truth out of the maid as she was -now more or less on her guard, so he deftly changed the conversation. -"I suppose you find Ajax Villa unpleasant after the murder?" he -suggested. - -Miss Doon closed her eyes. "Don't speak of it. My nerves are -shattered. It's awful. And to think no one ever knew who killed the -poor soul." - -"I suppose you don't?" - -"Certainly not," replied Miss Doon violently, "I was at the seaside -with the other servants. I know nothing." - -"Are the other servants pleasant?" asked Jasher, baffled again. - -Emily shrugged her ample shoulders. "Oh yes," she said; "Gander, the -cook, is the most amusing." Here she began to laugh. "We had such a -joke the other day," she added. "I intended to tell the professor." - -"What was that?" asked the detective carelessly. Miss Doon recounted -the episode of the dagger. "It was in the dustbin, and Gander thought -the jewels were real. She gave notice, only to find that the dagger -was a stage jewel that had been worn by Mrs. Fane at a fancy ball." - -"You knew that, I suppose?" said Jasher, much interested. - -"No. She has not been to a fancy ball since I was with her, and that -is three years. But she said the dagger was hers, and Gander was in a -great state." - -Jasher asked for a description of the dagger, which she gave. Then -Mrs. Varney returned with the tea, and the conversation became more -general. But the detective left with a firm conviction that Calvert -had left the dagger in the dust-hole after killing the woman. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -THE NEW TENANT - - -Arnold one day received a note from Luther Tracey asking him to call -at Fairy Lodge, Coleridge Lane, Hampstead. Wondering what the American -was doing in that house, Calvert lost no time in obeying the summons. -He knew Tracey very slightly, having only met him when paying a visit -to the Baldwins, when Laura was stopping there. But he was aware that -Tracey was a smart man, and long-headed. It struck Calvert as possible -that Laura might have consulted with the American about the matter of -the murder, and that this invitation might be the outcome of a -consultation between them. And it was creditable to Calvert's sagacity -that this is precisely what had happened. - -On arriving at Fairy Lodge, Arnold saw the engineer in the garden with -his inevitable cigarette in his mouth. - -"Well, I guess you're a smart chap," said Tracey, shaking hands -heartily. "You don't let the grass grow under your feet like the -majority of these English. No!" - -"I think curiosity brings me up so quickly," said Arnold as they -strolled up to the door. "I was wondering what you were doing in this -galley." - -"All in good time, sir," replied the imperturbable Luther. "Just slide -your eye round the ranch before you go in. Not a bad shanty? No; I -surmise that poor woman was death on flowers, and hadn't the dollars -to start an orchid-house." - -"She was poor," said Arnold, a trifle sadly. "Her husband did not -allow her much money, she told me; but perhaps he didn't make much." - -"Well, a drummer in our land generally can rake in the dollars. Did -you ever see this Brand?" - -"No," replied Calvert emphatically, "I never did." - -Luther looked sideways out of the corner of his eye, and saw that the -colour was rising in the young man's face. "Know something about him, -maybe. Yes?" - -"I know very little," answered Arnold coldly. "Only what Mrs. Brand -told me, and she was rather reserved on the subject. Brand, as I -learned from her, was a commercial traveller." - -"What line did he travel in?" - -"I don't know; I never asked. But his business took him away a great -deal, and my cousin was left a lot to herself." - -"Any children?" - -"None. They had been married five or six years, I believe. The fact -is," he added, "Mrs. Brand did not speak very kindly of her husband. -She seemed to think he was keeping something from her." - -Luther pitched away his cigarette and lighted another. "Well, now, I -guess that's my idea right along. There's a mystery about Brand, and -not a very straight one, seeing he couldn't tell the woman he swore to -love, honour, and obey. There ain't nothing about leaving for long -periods in the marriage service, I reckon. And it's strange he's not -turned up, seeing she's murdered." - -"Well," said Arnold slowly, and following the American into the room, -"I believe Brand went to Australia to see if he was related to the man -who left Flora this fortune." - -"Yes. It's queer his name should be Brand also. A woman generally -marries out of her name. It's a fact. Well, if he's in Australia I -expect he won't turn up for some time. When he does----" - -"What will happen?" asked Calvert, with a troubled look. - -"The truth will come to light." - -"Do you mean to say that the man killed her?" - -"I guess I don't mean to say anything," returned Tracey coolly, and -stretching his long limbs on a couch. "But now we're tiled in--you -ain't a mason, I suppose? No. But we're private here, so fire along." - -"What about?" - -"I want to know----" - -"So do I," broke in Arnold. "I want to know what you are doing here?" - -"Oh, there's nothing low about me, sir. I had a yarn with that young -lady who is as sweet as a daisy, and she told me enough to make me -take root in this place. Such a time I had with the old hermit who -owns the shanty. I had to give references and pay rent in advance, and -do all kinds of things to fix up matters. But yesterday I moved in, -and wrote you straight away. And here I stay till I learn the truth. -And a mighty long time that'll be, anyhow." - -Arnold, who was sitting in the chair with his face turned to the -light, stared. "I don't quite understand!" - -"No! Ah, that's the fault of you English. You want a heap of -explanations, like that Old Methuselah who let me the ranch. It's this -way. I'm engaged to Gerty B., and she's a friend of Miss Mason. Now -I've cottoned to Miss Mason, and I've sized you up as a decent sort of -old horse, so I'm going to see if I can pull you out of this mess. -Yes, sir. Luther Tracey don't go back on a friend. I guess I stop here -till the husband comes home from Australia and drops in here to see -his loving wife. And he don't leave that front door until I get the -truth out of him. I'm a clean shot, too," added Mr. Tracey, musingly. -"There ain't no flies on me. No!" - -Arnold was puzzled. "What do you know about me, that you talk so?" - -"All that Miss Mason could tell me. She landed round to see Gerty B. -in a devil of a state. That stuck-up sister had been lathering into -her, I guess. She wouldn't tell Gerty B., and just howled. So I came -along and sent Gerty B. to look after old momma Baldwin--to keep her -on the tiles. Yes, sir. Then I sat down and extracted the truth out of -Miss Mason." - -"What?" the blood rushed violently to Mr. Calvert's face. "Did Laura -tell you----" - -"Everything. You bet she did, and I wiped her pretty eyes with my silk -handkerchief. There ain't no call to fire up. I'm engaged to Gerty B., -and I don't loot another man's shanty. No, sir. I'm square and -straight. Miss Mason told me everything about your going to the villa, -and the dagger and all that poppy-cock. I told her to go slow and lie -down, and then lighted out for this rookery. Now I've got you here I -want you to tell me everything I don't know." - -Arnold, reserved like all Englishmen, was annoyed that this -inquisitive Yankee should interfere in his affairs. But the face of -the man was so genial, and displayed such interest, that he could not -help laughing. "It's very kind of you, Tracey," he admitted, "and -there is no one whose help I would like better. But I have already -engaged a detective to look after the matter." - -"Right enough," responded Luther, lighting another cigarette. "But I -work for the love of Gerty B., who's death on seeing you and Miss -Mason hitched in double harness. I'll do better than your 'tec, I -guess. Now come along and put your soul into the matter." - -"But I've got nothing more to say, man. Miss Mason has apparently told -you everything." - -"In the way women do tell--generally and without the detail I want, -sir. But Miss Mason was crying so, and I was consoling her so, that I -didn't catch on to everything, Calvert." Here Tracey's voice became -more earnest. "Just you trust me to the hilt. I'm your friend, right -away through, and God knows you need one." - -"Do you think I am in danger?" - -"On the face of it, I do." - -"But I can produce an _alibi_." - -"Good again. What's that, anyhow?" - -"Just this. I was asleep in my lodgings up till nine o'clock on that -night, and only went down to the theatre half an hour later. I believe -that the woman was killed between eight and nine." - -"That's all right enough," assented the American, looking at the ash -of his cigarette. "But you were in the house later, and you've come in -for the money, and the dagger was yours. There may be a way of the -prosecution getting out of the woman having been killed so early, and -then you get left." - -"Tracey, I swear when I saw the body it was almost cold." - -"Then why didn't you call in the police?" - -"Because I lost my head," said Arnold, much distressed. - -Luther shook his head. "The very time when you should have kept it. If -you had called in the police and explained how you came to be at the -villa, all would have been well." - -"But the money being left to me," expostulated Calvert. - -"You didn't know that at the time?" - -"No. I only knew when Merry wrote me." - -"Then there's no motive, though the prosecution might try to prove you -knew from Mrs. Brand beforehand." - -"Tracey, why do you talk about prosecution? There's no chance of----" - -"Of arrest," finished the American, neatly. "There just is, and don't -you make any mistake about it. That professor chap won't give up the -money without a try to get some." - -"You mistrust him?" - -"Oh, I reckon so. When he kept to his studies he was a harmless sort -of cuss, but now he's taken a hand in this game with the chance of a -fortune if he wins, why, he'll stick at nothing to land his stake. You -go ahead, Calvert, and tell me what you told Miss Mason. Then I'll -smooth it out and tot up." - -Seeing that the American really wished to be a friend, and having -considerable belief in his cleverness, Arnold related all that had -taken place from the time he received the forged letter. When he -ended, Tracey expressed a desire to see the letters. But Arnold, -unprepared for this conversation, had not brought them with him. - -"Can you remember the dates?" asked Tracey. "Both were written on the -twenty-third." - -"Hum! And posted on the twenty-fourth. Close running, that." - -"Only one was posted. That supposed to be an answer from me to Laura." - -"And the other was brought by a messenger?" asked Tracey. - -"Yes." - -"Did you reply to the forged letter?" - -"No. Remember I only received it late in the afternoon. Believing it -really came from Laura, I thought I would see her quicker than a -letter could be delivered." - -"Did Miss Mason look at the post-mark?" - -"No. She burnt the envelope too." - -"That's a pity. We might have found in what district the letter was -posted. However, we may learn from the district telegraph office, who -gave in the letter to be delivered on the twenty-fourth." - -"We don't know the office." - -"I'll find it," said Luther coolly, "if I hunt through every office of -that sort in London. By the way, when you were in the house did you -hear any one about?" - -"No. Not a soul. And yet----" he hesitated. - -"Who was singing while you talked to Mulligan?" - -Arnold jumped up and shuddered. "Tracey, I declare that was the most -horrible thing about the business. I don't know." - -"Yet you were in the room." - -"I was, and I saw the dead body, which I recognised as that of my -cousin. I saw the policeman pass and repass out of the window. Then, -thinking he was gone, I went out." - -"Wait a bit. You told Miss Mason, that you saw him leaning over the -gate? Don't make any mistake. This is important." - -Arnold coloured. "I am telling you the exact truth. I was so confused -over the whole business that I mix up things. I left the room before -the singing commenced. I waited in the hall for ten minutes, hoping -the policeman would not come back. Then I opened the door----" - -"Hold on a shake. Why didn't you go up and see who was singing?" - -"Tracey, I couldn't. My nerve was already shaken when I left the room -with the dead in it. I recognised my peril, seeing I knew who she -was--the dead woman, I mean. In the darkness of the hall I was waiting -when I heard a woman's voice singing 'Kathleen Mavourneen.' I was so -shaken that I scarcely knew what to do. All my desire was to get away -from that horrible house. I opened the door, and saw the policeman at -the gate. I hesitated and then faced him--the rest you know." - -Tracey looked at his pointed boots and considered. "What a fool you -were not to steal upstairs and see who was singing. You might have -found the murderess." - -"Murderess!" - -"Yes," said Tracey, getting off the couch, "from the fact of the -singing I guess it was a woman who killed Mrs. Brand." - -"No," said Arnold decidedly; "if a woman had done so, she certainly -would not have risked my return." - -"Oh, I guess she knew you were scared to death. And perhaps she -believed you had cleared out." - -"She would have heard the door close." - -"Not she. You closed it quietly, I reckon." - -"So quietly that Mulligan did not hear." - -"There you see." Luther took a turn up and down the room. "See here, -I'm going to camp out here and search." - -"For what?" asked Calvert, puzzled. - -"For letters, pictures, diaries, and all that sort of thing." - -"You won't find any. Derrick discovered that everything had been -removed, by the murderer no doubt, so that the reason for the crime -would not be discovered." - -"That's so. And you hang on to the fact that it was a woman who -engineered this job. A man wouldn't be so 'cute. She came right along -when all was quiet and looted the house. But I guess Derrick's a fool. -There may be all kinds of papers hanging round. And he didn't examine -the dustbin. Now, I did, and I found a torn photo----" - -"Of Brand?" asked Calvert breathlessly. - -"No; of Mrs. Brand." - -Calvert looked disappointed. - -"Derrick has one already." - -"I guess so, and he don't know what use to make of it. I find on the -photograph, very naturally, the name of the photographer." - -"Well, what of that?" - -"You make me tired," said Tracey impatiently. "I'm going to see if that -man's got a photograph of the husband. Married people sometimes get -taken together. If Mrs. Brand had a photo taken at this man's place, -she would probably, when she wanted another, or to be photographed -with her husband, go there. Don't you catch on? Besides, the husband -may have gone with her without being taken. Oh, I'll get his picture." - -"But what good will that do?" - -"Well, it might put a clue into our hands. He may have loved the woman -who stabbed his wife." - -"It's all theory," said Arnold impatiently. - -"And I guess it will be, till we get down to the bed-rock of the -business," said the American dryly. "However--hullo Snakes, what's -that row?" - -"It's a ring at the bell," said Arnold, peering out of the window. He -then drew back with a look of surprise. "It's Jasher." - -"Great Scot! What's he come here for? All the better: we'll interview -him. I'd like to see the sort of man you have running the biz. We -might syndicate. Yes--oh I guess so." - -In a few minutes Jasher, round and rosy and fat and short of breath, -was in the room, expressing his surprise at the sight of his employer. - -"I just came up to have a look at the house," said he; "and never -expected to see you here, or Mr. Tracey either." - -"What's that?" queried Tracey, "you know my name?" - -"Jasher sat down and wiped his bald forehead. - -"I had the pleasure of seeing you out of the window of Professor -Bocaros's house. You were walking with a young lady. He told me your -name and----" - -"That's all right. Well, sir, I'm hanging out here, looking after this -case. Yes, you bet I've taken a hand." - -"Jasher looked annoyed, and turned to Calvert. - -"You gave the case into my hands, sir," he said in an aggrieved tone. - -"That's as right as a pie," said Tracey coolly, and before Arnold -could speak; "but I guess you're paid, and I'm an amateur. There's no -law against my joining in this old country, is there?" - -"No," said Jasher stiffly; "but I prefer to work alone." - -"Right you are. I'll swing on my own peg. Well"--Tracey lighted his -sixth cigarette--"what's doing?" - -Jasher, with marked annoyance, turned his broad back on the man who -was meddling--as he considered it--with his business, and addressed -himself to Arnold. - -"Do you wish me to report, sir?" - -"If you please," said Calvert, amused by the detective's anger. - -"I would rather do it alone." - -Tracey lifted his shoulders. - -"I'll take a hand at patience in another room," said he, sauntering to -the door. "Call me when the pow-pow's over, Calvert," and he went out -singing, with Jasher looking after him distrustfully. - -"Well, Jasher, what is it?" asked Calvert, sitting down again. - -The detective took a seat, and looked sadly at his employer. The two -could hear Tracey singing in the back garden, so they talked in their -ordinary tones. Shortly the singing stopped, but then Jasher was too -much engrossed to think Tracey might be listening. However, he set the -door of the room ajar so that the American's ear should not be at the -keyhole. Having taken this precaution, he sat down, and as above -stated looked sadly at his employer. - -"Why don't you trust me, sir?" he asked reproachfully. - -"In what way?" asked Calvert, turning cold. - -"Well, sir, you mayn't know it, but Professor Bocaros grudges you this -fortune, and wants to get up a case against you." - -"I fancy he'll find that difficult. Has he been troubling you?" - -"He wanted me to play low down," said Jasher gloomily; "but as you are -my employer, and have the money--I must be frank," he broke off in a -burst of confidence--"you have the cash and Bocaros hasn't, so I stick -to you." - -"Thanks!" said Arnold dryly. "Well?" - -"I am still friends with Bocaros," went on Jasher calmly, "as I don't -want him to suspect, and I must keep an eye on him. However, he's -found out several things." Here Jasher stopped and looked at Arnold -firmly. "You, sir, were the man with the pointed beard who spoke to -Mulligan, and had the latch-key." - -"How can you prove that?" asked Calvert quietly. - -"Well, sir, I went to the theatre and saw that your make-up was the -same as that described by Mulligan; also the clothes. Then Bocaros and -I found out from your understudy that you were away from the theatre -till after nine, and the woman was killed about that time. Finally, -Mrs. Fane's maid told me that a stage dagger of the sort you wear in -the second act of the play was found in the dustbin of Ajax Villa. You -inherit the fortune, sir, and that taken in conjunction with these -circumstances makes Bocaros think you killed the poor woman yourself. -I'm afraid I wasn't so careful with the professor as I should have -been," said Jasher apologetically; "but, now I know he is your enemy, -I will keep my eye on him." - -"The professor knows all this?" - -"Yes. He learned something of it from Mrs. Fane's maid, and he was at -supper with me, when we spoke to your understudy, Hart. Bocaros wanted -to go to Derrick with the information; but I persuaded him not to do -so for the present. But there's no denying that you are in a difficult -position, and the professor is dangerous." - -"Calvert pitched his cigarette on the floor and glanced out of the -window. He was not so surprised as Jasher expected him to be, as he -had always mistrusted Bocaros. But he recognised his danger, and spoke -frankly. - -"What do you think, Jasher?" - -"I don't think you did it, sir, if that's what you ask me." - -"Why not. I was the young man who spoke to Mulligan. I went to Troy in -my make-up. I was in the house, and I recognised the body. And the -dagger found in the dustbin is mine. Now, what do you say?" - -"I say that I'm more certain than ever you ain't guilty," said Jasher -doggedly; "you wouldn't put your neck into the noose if you were the -man wanted. And you wouldn't have engaged me to hunt you down to get -hanged." - -"You are very clever, Jasher," said Calvert, with a nervous laugh. "I -am innocent, as you say. This woman was killed before nine." - -"So the doctor said at the inquest, sir." - -"Then, if you will ask my landlady you will find that I was asleep in -my room at that time. A messenger came from the theatre asking me to -finish the piece as----" - -"As Hart was ill. I know that. But did you go later?" - -"Yes. I went to keep an appointment with Miss Mason. It was made for -half-past nine, and when I got to the villa she wasn't there. I -entered the house, and after seeing the dead body I came out, dreading -lest I should be accused of killing my cousin. The dagger I left in -this house by mistake, so I have no doubt she took it with her to Ajax -Villa for some purpose, and was killed with it. Who killed her I am -not in a position to say. So you see, Jasher, I can prove an _alibi_." - -Jasher nodded and seemed relieved. - -"I'm glad you have so clear a defence, sir," said he heartily. "I -should not like to have been the means of hunting you down. But what -was Mrs. Brand doing at the villa?" - -"Ah! that I can't tell you." - -"Jasher asked a great many questions, mostly of the sort which Luther -had asked, and seemed quite puzzled. Calvert told Jasher that the -American suspected a woman of having killed Mrs. Brand. This, however, -Jasher shook his head at. - -"A woman wouldn't have the nerve," he said. "However, I'll think over -that. There's Mrs. Fane, of course." - -"What about her?" asked Arnold angrily. - -"Well, sir, she (as I learn from the professor, who heard it from Miss -Baldwin) hates you, and doesn't want you to marry her sister. The song -sung was hers. So she might have----" - -"Rubbish!" said Arnold, jumping up. "I am surprised at you, man. Mrs. -Fane was at Westcliff-on-Sea." - -"Yes; and I guess she ran away with my car," cried Tracey. - -"What!" said Jasher, pink to the ears. "Have you been listening?" - -"You bet," said Luther coolly; "had my ear to the wall the whole time. -This house is a shell. Now the conversation's come round to my way of -thinking, I've come to sail in. You're a smart man," said Luther, -wringing the detective's hand. "I agree with you. A woman did the -trick, and Mrs. Fane's the woman." - -Jasher felt complimented. "Well, sir, now you are in and know all, I -don't mind your remaining. Mrs. Fane----" - -"I won't hear it," cried Arnold; "it is ridiculous!" - -"Don't see it," argued Tracey. "She's one of these tall women who -could easily overpower a little woman like Mrs. Brand." - -"But what reason had she to kill Mrs. Brand?" - -"She wanted to lay the blame on you and stop your marriage." - -"Stuff and nonsense! Why should she kill Mrs. Brand for that? She did -not know the woman was my cousin, or that money was coming to me; I -didn't know myself till the lawyers wrote after the death." - -"It's a rum case altogether," said Jasher, nursing his chin on his fat -hand. "I can't see my way." - -"I can," said Luther briskly; "you go right along and make inquiries -about Mrs. Fane, and I'll go on my own. Then come here and we'll size -the business up when we pool the notes." - -"But Mrs. Fane was at Westcliff-on-Sea," said Arnold distracted. - -"And she took my motor-car to get back." - -"To Charing Cross?" asked Jasher disbelievingly. - -"You bet. That was a blind. There's a late train to Westcliff-on-Sea -on Saturday night. Mrs. Fane could leave this house when you, Calvert, -left it about eleven. She could rip along in my flier to Charing Cross -in twenty minutes, and then leaving the car there, she could take the -underground to Bishopsgate to catch the late train. That's what she -did. Oh, I've worked it out." - -"Jasher seemed struck with this speech. I'll make inquiries at -Liverpool Street station," he said. "But, sir," he added, turning to -Calvert, "seeing that there is a danger of your being arrested, will -you go on with this case?" - -"Why not? I am innocent!" - -Jasher shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, it's none of my business," said -he. "I know you are innocent, as you can prove the _alibi_, or it would -be my duty to arrest you. But unless you can close the mouth of -Bocaros, he will tell Derrick, and then----" - -"Then I'll face the business out," said Arnold proudly. "I have been a -fool; but I am not a knave or a murderer. What do you say, Tracey?" - -"I'm with you," said the American; "go through with the biz." - -"Jasher shrugged his shoulders. It would be better to bribe the -professor to silence," he said. "However, I have my orders, and I'll -go on." - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -THE PROFESSOR'S COURTING - - -Disappointed of the fortune, Bocaros had to keep on teaching at the -suburban school. He disliked the drudgery of the task, and hated the -boys who did not always treat him respectfully. The poor man had a -miserable time, and the loneliness of his life at the Refuge did not -tend to cheer him. What with his disappointment, the dampness of his -house, his straitened circumstances, let alone the fact that he was in -love, Professor Bocaros found life very hard. - -He really adored Emily Doon. As she had told Jasher, Bocaros had -rescued her from the insults of a ruffian, and since then she had been -kind to the lawman. At first it did not enter her head to marry him, -as she knew how desperately poor he was. But Bocaros was a gentleman, -and Emily warmly desired to marry above her rank. She was a handsome, -ambitious girl with some education, and from reading novels such as -Mrs. Baldwin loved, she became imbued with the idea that she was -destined for a romantic life. Her visions included a title, a large -income, beautiful dresses, and the envy of every one she knew. She -painted a picture of her calling as a countess on Mrs. Fane and of -crushing that stately lady with patronage. Emily did not like Mrs. -Fane very much, as she found her a somewhat severe mistress. Therefore -she was anxious to marry as soon as possible. But those who sought her -hand were in trade, and Bocaros was the only gentleman who seemed to -admire her in a genteel and respectful way. - -The conversation with Jasher put a different complexion on the affair. -According to the professor's man of business, who certainly must know -what he was talking about, Bocaros was a baron, and was likely to come -in for money. It was true that no details had been given, but the mere -hint was sufficient for Emily. She at once decided to encourage the -professor instead of snubbing him, and to this end, having dressed -herself in her best things, she went to pay a visit shortly after five -o'clock, an hour when she knew Bocaros would be within. - -The professor was seated over a small fire, staring darkly into its -red heart, with folded arms. Outside, the twilight was darkening to -night and the wind was rising. But Bocaros did not pay any attention -to the doings of nature. He was wrapped up in the contemplation of his -own troubles. Already he had finished his frugal meal and had put away -the dishes as was his custom. Usually, having lighted his big pipe, he -would read, but on this evening the book lay unopened and the pipe was -laid aside. He began to feel keenly his poverty now that he was in -love. There seemed to be no chance of his marrying Emily, and so far -as he could see, unless he could bend his pride to accept money from -Calvert he would have to pass the rest of his days in that damp house -until too old to earn his bread. Then the wolf would rush in at the -door and drive him to the workhouse. No wonder the poor man was -angered by the good fortune of Arnold. - -When a sharp knock came to the door, Bocaros, wrapped in his gloomy -thoughts, took no notice. Again came the knock in a still more -peremptory manner. This time he heard, and wondering who was calling -on such a recluse as himself, he went to the door. Here he expected to -find Tracey or Mrs. Baldwin, who were the only people who ever came to -the dull little house in the fields. But when he saw Emily fashionably -arrayed, smirking at the door and flashing her great eyes on him, the -poor man was so amazed that he fell back a step and gasped. - -"I hope I'm not unwelcome," said Miss Doon, with dignity. - -"Ah, my dear young lady, enter my humble home," gasped the professor, -wondering if this was all "a beautiful dream. How can you think but -what I am honoured far beyond my worth." - -"The foreign style of compliment," simpered Emily entering, "is what I -would expect from one of the nobility." - -"Bocaros did not hear. He conducted her to the study and made her sit -in the big armchair. Then he heaped on coals and wood in reckless -profusion, and volunteered to make his fair visitor a cup of tea. - -"The English love tea," said the professor, hastening to the kitchen. -"In a moment you shall have some, mademoiselle." - -"How sweet," sighed Emily, who liked the foreign title. But when alone -she cast her eyes round the room, and mentally decided that Bocaros -was even harder up than she expected to find him. Emily was a shrewd -girl where her vanity was not concerned, and had no notion of throwing -herself away. Unless she knew for certain that Bocaros was a baron and -that the money would really come to him, she decided that she would -never permit him to make her his wife. She was fond of fine dress, in -which her wages did not permit her to indulge. Already she was in -debt, and should the professor propose she knew not how she would be -able to get a trousseau together worthy of the occasion. "But I can -get Fanny to help," thought the astute Emily. Fanny was Mrs. Varney. -"She will do anything when she hears I have decided to marry a foreign -nobleman like Count Fosco in the _Woman in White!_" which comparison -was rather hard on the guileless Bocaros. - -Shortly he returned with a cup of tea. Emily accepted the attention -graciously. But the tea was inferior, the china was thick, so she made -a wry face and drank very little of the comforting beverage. The -professor did not notice her distaste. He closed the window, drew the -threadbare curtains and lighted the lamp. Having made the room as -comfortable as was possible he sat down and poked the fire into a -brighter blaze, then smiled cheerfully at Miss Doon. She was secretly -amazed at the result produced by her visit in the man's looks. He -appeared to be years younger--there was a colour in his face, a softer -light in his aggressive eyes, and his demeanour was almost gay. She -thought that if he were better dressed and had more flesh on his poor -bones, he might be a handsome man after a sort. She might do worse -than marry him, always presuming that he really had a title, and was -possessed--in the near future--of money. - -"You have no idea what pleasure it gives me to see you seated at my -poor hearth," said Bocaros, smiling brightly. - -"It's very nice," replied Emily, also smiling. "But I suppose some day -you will be able to afford a better house?" - -"I might. One never knows, as you English say. And were I rich, do you -know what I should do?" - -"Marry, I suppose. When a gentleman has a house he always looks for a -lady to share it." - -"The difficulty is to get the lady." - -"Oh, really, sir, in your case there should be no difficulty." - -Bocaros brightened still more. "Do you really think so, mademoiselle? I -am old, I am poor, I have no position, and----" - -"But a baron has a position!" - -"Who told you I was a baron?" asked Bocaros suspiciously. - -"Mr. Jasher, your man of business. Isn't it true?" - -"Yes," said the Greek slowly, and with his eyes on the fire, "it is -strictly true. I am a baron in my country, as I come of a noble -family. But I dropped the title when I came to teach in England. Yes! -I told Jasher I was a baron. How did he come to tell you?" - -"There was no need for Bocaros to ask this question. Jasher had -reported the conversation to him, and had advised him to resume his -title if he wished to make an impression on Miss Doon's worldly heart. -As a matter of fact Bocaros was really entitled to the title he -claimed. He belonged to a decayed family and the title was all that -remained. As it was out of keeping in his position, and the man was -proud, he never gave any one to understand that he had this rank, and -was contented with the appellation of professor. Unused to the ways of -women, it had never struck him that the title would be of value in -Miss Doon's eyes when it was not gilded with money. But he saw from -her looks that she really thought a great deal of it, and mentally -thanked Jasher for having supplied him with this bird-lime to lure his -fowl. - -"How delightful!" said Miss Doon. "And your wife will be a baroness?" - -"Oh yes. But where am I to find a wife?" - -Emily's eyes told him, but with the ineradicable coquetry of a woman -her tongue contradicted her glances. "Good gracious me, baron"--she -rolled the sweet morsel on her tongue--"how should I know? Really I -wish you would not look at me like that. It's hardly proper for a -young lady to call on a foreign nobleman. I believe they are not to be -trusted. The noblemen, you know--so gay and dashing they are." - -Bocaros laughed a little sadly. "I fear I am anything but that," he -said. "Not at all the bridegroom for you." - -"Really, professor--I must call you by the dear old name--I hope you -are not making a proposal." - -"Does it offend you?" asked Bocaros timidly. - -"I'm sure I don't know. I have never been proposed to before, as I -have always been hard to suit." - -"Would I suit you?" - -"Miss Doon having extracted a direct question got to business at once, -but veiled her common-sense under a delightful confusion. I really -don't know, baron--I must call you by that name, it sounds so -high-class--really I don't know. Of course I was born for a coronet." - -"It would look well on that delicate head." - -"I'm sure it would," replied Miss Doon, with conviction. "But you see, -baron, I must have a gold coronet, and you"--she looked round the -room. - -"Yes," said Bocaros sadly. "I am poor--miserably poor. But," his eyes -blazed so suddenly that she drew back startled, "you may be able to -make me rich." - -"Baron, I do not grasp your meaning." - -Bocaros looked at her doubtfully. "Are you a strong-minded woman?" he -asked; "are you willing to do something for money?" - -Emily grew nervous. "What do you mean, professor?" - -"I mean that I can obtain an income of some thousands a year if you -will help me to get it." - -The bait was too tempting for Miss Doon to resist, so she nibbled. - -"So long as it is anything a lady can do," she observed modestly. "And -I am confident, baron, that you would not like the future bearer of -your noble coronet to do anything wrong." - -"You could never do wrong in my eyes." - -"Ah, but there are other eyes one has to consider," said Emily in a -shrewd manner. "You had better speak plainly." - -"I will, if you promise to hold your tongue. If what I am about to say -gets abroad, farewell to the money and to my resuming my title." - -"It's nothing wrong, I hope," faltered Emily, rather taken aback by -this earnestness. "Although I am not a prude I should never think of -doing anything to----" - -"No, no! All I ask you to do is to give me some information." - -"Information! Good gracious! what information can I give you?" - -"Bocaros rose and began to walk with his hands in his pockets. I -suppose you remember the White Room crime," he said slowly. - -Miss Doon shrieked. "Oh, don't talk of it, baron. It has ruined my -nerves. I can't----" - -The professor interrupted ruthlessly. "Has it ruined the nerves of -your mistress?" he asked sharply. - -Emily sat up and became more of a servant and an artful woman. "What's -that?" - -"Must I put the matter plainly?" sneered the professor? - -"Yes," she replied quietly, "if you wish me to understand." - -"Then I will. The woman who was murdered was my cousin. She left me -ten thousand a year--hush, don't interrupt. Arnold Calvert, however, -got round her in some way and she altered her will, leaving the money, -which was rightfully mine, to him. I hate him, and I want half the -money at least. I have reason to believe that he killed this -woman--hush, don't interrupt--and if I can bring the crime home to -him, I can make him hush it up by his giving me five thousand a year. -If you will help me to prove his guilt, I will marry you and make you -a baroness as soon as the income is safe." - -"Emily stared, and in her clever mind calculated the chances of -benefiting by this confidence. I don't see how I can help," she said, -to gain time. - -"I do. Did you read the case as reported in the papers?" - -"Yes. But it said nothing about Mr. Calvert." - -"He was the young man who spoke to the constable. Now, when he left -the house my cousin was lying dead in the White Room, and a woman, to -distract the attention of the police, was singing. The song that she -sung is a favourite of Mrs. Fane's." - -Emily now began to see whither these remarks tended. "Yes?" - -"Yes!" repeated the professor impatiently. "Is that all you have to -say? Do you not understand?" - -"No, I don't, really, I don't." - -"Bah!" he turned his back roughly on her. "You are of no use to me." - -"But I may be," said Miss Doon meaningly. - -"Yes. If you like. Do you know what I want?" - -"You want to make out that Mrs. Fane was singing in the room." - -Bocaros nodded. "I know Mrs. Fane was supposed to be at the seaside. -But you told Jasher that you did something for Mrs. Fane, and would -not betray her. What was it you did?" - -"I said I would not betray her," said Emily, not seeing how the affair -would turn out to her advantage. - -"Then you will never be my wife." - -"If you loved me----" - -"It is not a question of love," he interrupted imperiously. "How can I -marry you and bring you to this hovel?" - -"I should not come. Give me a good home and----" - -"Well," he interrupted again impatiently, "the chance of obtaining a -good home lies in your hands. I swear I will make you a baroness if -you will help me to get the money." - -Emily fenced. "Do you think Mr. Calvert is guilty?" she asked. - -"Yes, decidedly. I am as sure of that, as I am that Mrs. Fane was in -the room assisting him to escape." - -"But why should she do that?" - -"Because she loves him----" - -"Oh, good gracious!" Miss Doon started from her seat. "Really, that is -impossible." - -"I tell you she loves him," repeated Bocaros grimly, "and that is why -she is so averse to her sister marrying him. Calvert got to know that -the will was made in his favour, and lured Flora to the White Room. -There Calvert or Mrs. Fane killed her--don't shriek." - -"I must," said Miss Doon excitedly. "Do you think that Mrs. Fane--Oh, -I can't believe--And yet----" - -"Ah! Then she _was_ up in town on that night?" - -"I never said so," retorted Emily promptly. - -"What is the use of fencing in this way?" cried Bocaros roughly. "I am -sure that my guess is correct. I was certain after what you let slip -to Jasher, and----" - -"She has been a good mistress to me," said Emily, crying. - -"Because she chose to. But she is a hard and cruel woman!" - -"She's all that. She would kill me, did she know that I told." - -"Bah! Once in the hands of the law she can do nothing. Come, Emily, my -dear wife that is to be, tell me. She was in town." - -"Yes," confessed Emily. Then, having taken the leap, she hurried on: -"I will tell you all now, but mind you keep your promise. If you -don't, I will deny everything; and you can't do without me." - -The professor kissed her hand gravely. "I have no wish to do without -you, my dear," he said. "Go on; tell me all." - -"When we were at the seaside," said Miss Doon, sitting down again, "I -noticed that the mistress was worried. She got worse and worse, and -always quarrelled with her husband." - -"Was he with her all the time?" - -"Yes. On the twenty-fourth----" - -"The time of the murder," said Bocaros, under his breath. - -"Mr. Fane received a letter which made him turn pale. I took the -letters up to him in the morning-room, as the man asked me to. When he -opened the letter he turned pale, and put it into his pocket. Mrs. -Fane was in the room. She looked sharply at him, but said nothing. But -when I left they had a quarrel. At all events, Mrs. Fane looked -furious all the day. Mr. Fane said he was ill with a cold----" - -"Was he really ill?" asked the professor suspiciously. - -"Well, he had a cold, but not a bad enough one to make him go to bed -as he did. He took to his room, and Mrs. Fane attended to him herself. -All day she was with him. Just before six she came out of his room, -and told his man that he was asleep and was not to be disturbed. She -then called me into her room, and told me that she had to go away on -business. She did not want it to be known that she was out of the -house, and asked me to put on one of her dresses and sit all the -evening in the drawing-room till she came back." - -"Did she explain why she went to town?" - -"No. Nor did I ask. I never thought that anything was wrong. I fancied -she might have gone up to see Mr. Frederick Mason, as she was always -calling on him. She had quarrelled with her husband, so I thought the -letter he received was about some business that was wrong----" - -"What business?" - -"The business of Mason & Son. Mr. Fane is a partner with Mr. Mason, -but Mrs. Fane attends to matters. As I say, she often went to see her -brother, and I thought she did so on this night unbeknown to Mr. Fane. -For that reason, as I supposed, she wanted me to pretend to be her, so -that neither he nor the servants would think she had been out of the -house. I said Mr. Fane might want me, but she said he would not, as -she had given him a sleeping-draught, and he would not awaken till the -morning. Well, she paid me so well that I agreed. I put on her dress -and sat in the drawing-room. She told the servants to go to bed when -they liked, as she would require nothing more. So all the evening I -was not disturbed, and the servants, thinking I had gone out--I made -up a story for them," said Emily artfully--"never came near me. My -mistress caught the six train up." - -"At what time did she come back?" - -"After midnight. She caught the last train down." - -"Did she seem disturbed?" - -"Not at all. She simply came in and said that she had done her -business. Then she paid me the money and sent me to bed, after hearing -that all was well, and that the other servants suspected nothing. Then -she remained in the drawing-room looking over some papers." - -"You suspected nothing wrong?" - -"I did not," replied Miss Doon, with assurance. "Not until you spoke -of her singing the song did I think anything wrong." - -"Yet you read the report at the inquest." - -"I did. But it never struck me that----" - -"I see," interrupted Bocaros, rubbing his hands. "Well, you can be -quite sure, Emily, that Mrs. Fane came to Ajax Villa on that night. -Can she drive a motor-car?" - -"Yes. She had one down at Westcliff-on-Sea." - -"Then it's her, without a doubt. She stole Tracey's motor-car, and -leaving it in Charing Cross station-yard, went along by the -underground to Liverpool Street, where she caught the last train. -Jasher told me that Tracey's own idea is, that a woman did this, and -that a woman killed Mrs. Brand. Ah! with your evidence we'll have -her." - -"What will you do?" - -"Do?" said the professor. "I'll get five thousand a year from Calvert, -or have both him and Mrs. Fane arrested. Your evidence will hang her -and give him a life-sentence." - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -A SURPRISE - - -Tracey, in the interests of the lovers, continued to live in the -cottage at Hampstead. Webb had let him the house furnished, and Luther -made himself comfortable in a bachelor fashion. He cooked his own -meals, and made his own bed, and kept the house as neat as a new pin. -One day Gerty came to see him, accompanied by her mother. How she -induced that lymphatic woman to come was a mystery. Tracey was not -easily astonished, but he was fairly taken aback when he saw stout -Mrs. Baldwin being towed up the path by Gerty. It was like a -breathless steam-tug conducting a three-decker out of port. - -"What I've suffered," said Mrs. Baldwin, sinking into a basket-chair -which almost collapsed under her weight, "no one can understand." - -"Oh come, mother," said Gerty cheerfully, "you had a cab to the top of -the hill, and my arm to the door." - -"You are nothing to lean upon," sighed Mrs. Baldwin. "If it was Rufus, -now. He had an arm like a blacksmith, and the soul of a poet." - -Tracey giggled. He was amused by Mrs. Baldwin's whimsical ways. "Will -you tell me what brought you here?" he asked, with his arm round -Gerty. - -"You may well ask that," said Mrs. Baldwin, fanning herself with her -handkerchief; "and if you have such a thing as wine----" - -"Only whisky--old Bourbon," snapped Luther, and supplied Mrs. Baldwin -with a brimming glass in spite of her asseveration that she never took -such strong drink. If not, she appreciated it, and finished the glass -while talking. - -"Gerty must tell you what I want," she said, nursing the glass. - -Luther turned to his fiancée with an inquiring look. Something very -strange must have occurred to bring Mrs. Baldwin so far. - -"Mother is upset," said Gerty: "she fancies she saw her husband." - -"My second," explained Mrs. Baldwin. "Not Gerty's father, who was a -gentleman, but Rufus." - -"The man with the blacksmith's arm and poet's soul," said Luther. "I -thought he was dead and buried long ago." - -"No," said the old lady. "I have never seen any announcement of his -death. He is alive, and I saw him. Two nights ago I was reclining in -the parlour, trying to soothe my nerves with a novel. Rufus appeared -at the window, which was open, the night being warm. I shrieked aloud -at the sight of his face. He ran away," finished Mrs. Baldwin, -sighing. - -"Didn't you light out after him?" - -"I went out to rebuke him for his desertion of the twins. But he was -gone like a dream. I have come to you to ask if you will advertise for -Rufus. Assure him that all will be forgotten." - -"Is there anything to forget?" asked Gerty. - -Mrs. Baldwin suddenly sat up with energy, and her eyes glittered. No -one would have thought that she possessed such spirit. "Yes," she -said, in a hard voice, "there is much to forget. Rufus treated me like -a brute. He always was a brute." - -"Then why do you wish to forgive him?" - -"Because I do," said Mrs. Baldwin doggedly. - -"Were I you," said Luther, after a pause, "I would leave the cuss -alone. Think of your children." - -"I want him back," said Mrs. Baldwin, and softened her tone. "All will -be forgiven and forgotten." - -But, even as she said this, Tracey saw a nasty glitter in her eye. -He was not so sure that Mrs. Baldwin was actuated by Christian -intentions in wanting her lost husband back. In spite of her apparent -good-nature, she was petty and spiteful. It might be, that she wished -her husband back to make things hot for him. "Tell me really why you -wish him to return?" said Luther. - -Mrs. Baldwin breathed hard, and looked at her daughter. "Send Gerty -out of the room," she said suddenly, and forthwith this was done. When -alone with Tracey, who was more puzzled than ever, Mrs. Baldwin again -became energetic. "There was a diamond necklace," she said. - -"Ah," replied the American, whistling; "I see, Rufus nabbed it?" - -Mrs. Baldwin took no notice. "I want my necklace back," she said; "it -was given to me by Gerty's father, and I intend to present her with it -on her wedding-day. You are to marry her, Mr. Tracey; so if you want -Gerty to look a lady, as she always is, you will catch Rufus, and make -him give up the necklace." - -Tracey smiled, and shook his head. "It's not to be done, Mrs. Baldwin. -Your husband's been gone for years, and the necklace has long ago been -sold. Besides, you would have to prosecute him. Think of the children, -ma'am." - -"I want back my diamond necklace," said Mrs. Baldwin, who was like a -very obstinate child. "Oh, how I hated that man!" In her rage she -forgot her pretended weakness. "Mr. Tracey," she rose to her feet in a -kind of cold fury, worthy of Mrs. Fane, "Rufus was a brute. Why I -married him I don't know. He said he had money, and he hadn't. I found -out that at one time he had been in gaol for burglary. No wonder he -took my diamond necklace. I want him caught and punished. I have -always spoken well of him all these years for the children's sake, but -I have never forgotten his brutal ways, Mr. Tracey." In real earnest, -she laid her fat hand on his arm. "That man struck me. He spent my -money; he made love to the servants. He was all that was bad--a thief, -a liar, a profligate, a----" - -"That's all right," said Luther soothingly, and led her back to her -seat, where she sat and sobbed. "The man was a bad egg. In that case -let him alone, for the children's sake. Can he touch your money?" - -"No. Gerty's father left it all in my own name. I am free of him in -every way." - -"Then you let him alone. He has deserted you for over seven years, so -he can't come back to make things unpleasant, and----" - -"Let him come," said Mrs. Baldwin viciously. "I want him to come. -I'll make things unpleasant for him--the brute." - -"But you never said anything of this before, ma'am?" - -"No," replied the woman heavily. "Because he passed out of my memory, -so to speak. But when I saw his face at the window, it all came back -to me--all--all. I want him caught and punished;" she caught Tracey's -arm. "He is a burglar, mind, and he may break into my house and kill -me. You don't know what a scoundrel he is." - -"Yet you always gave us to understand that he was a good sort." - -"For the children's sake. That's why I sent Gerty out of the room. I -don't want her to know, although he is no kith or kin of hers." - -"Then you leave things as they are, ma'am, for the children's sake." - -"No," said Mrs. Baldwin, between her teeth. "If I catch him, and the -law won't punish him, I'll do so myself. I'll keep a pistol by me. -I'll shoot him if he attempts to enter my house! Yes, I will." - -"Tracey was amazed at the change in the woman. The lazy, good-natured -creature he knew was gone, and in her place stood a woman as -vindictive as the adventuress of an Adelphi drama. He asked for a -description of Rufus Baldwin, but by this time Mrs. Baldwin had -changed her mind. - -"No, I shan't tell you any more," she said quietly. "You forget what I -have said. Don't advertise. The law won't punish him, and I dare say -my diamond necklace has gone to pieces by this time. I'll keep a -pistol beside me, and shoot him if he comes." - -"No! no! He won't come again." - -"Yes he will. He came the other night. I saw him at the window. I -cried out at the sight of his wicked face. But I won't scare him away -next time. No, I'll wait and let him come near me, then I'll kill him. -That's what I'll do," and then she began gradually to relapse into the -lazy woman who had entered. "How hot it is." - -In compliance with her request Tracey went out to call Gerty. He was -astonished by the sudden changes in Mrs. Baldwin's demeanour, and -asked Gerty a question. "Say, does your momma drink?" - -"No. Certainly not, Luther. Why do you ask?" - -"Well, she's that queer." - -"Something has upset her, I know," said Gerty quickly; "what is it?" - -Mrs. Baldwin appeared at the door and answered that question. "Don't -tell her," she said sharply. "Gerty dear, you are too inquisitive. I -am upset by the appearance of Rufus--that's all." - -"Is Luther to advertise?" asked Gerty, wondering. - -"No," Mrs. Baldwin walked to the gate, "I have a better way than -that--a much better way," and she opened the gate. - -"Say," Tracey detained Gerty, "do you sleep in your mother's room?" - -"No. Why do you ask?" - -"Because she's got a kind of craze about that husband of hers. You -make some excuse and sleep in her room for a week or so till she -forgets that the man came back. And if you see anything queer wire me, -I'll be down in a shake. You catch on, Gerty B.?" - -"No. What do you----" - -Before Tracey could reply Mrs. Baldwin hailed them. "Here's Mr. -Calvert. Gerty, come away," so the girl reluctantly had to go to her -mother, but not before she whispered Tracey to write and explain. - -"Can't, my dear," he whispered back uneasily. "I promised to hold my -tongue. But keep an eye on your mother. Now do." - -"There was no time to say any more, as Mrs. Baldwin was coming up the -path with Arnold. She was telling him of her sufferings at great -length, and nothing remained of the virago who had displayed such -fierceness in the white room, save an unusually high colour. Tracey -nodded to Calvert, who looked rather excited. Then came the toil of -getting Mrs. Baldwin away, which took as long a time as it usually -does to launch a ship. At last the cab drove off, and Gerty waved a -farewell handkerchief to Tracey. Then the young men went into the -house. - -"I don't envy you Mrs. Baldwin, Tracey," said Calvert. - -"I guess you've hit the bull's-eye," replied the American gloomily; -"she's not such a fool as she looks, that old ma'am." - -"Oh, she doesn't look a fool," said Arnold easily, "only lazy." - -"And she ain't that neither. I guess there's spirit in the old party. -You could have knocked me down flat when she rose on her hind legs." - -"Was she--er--on her hind legs?" inquired Calvert delicately. - -"Considerable! But it's private business. Only I hope I won't be mixed -up with another murder case. One's good enough for me, anyhow!" - -"Do you mean to say----" began Arnold startled. - -"That she knows anything to the circus we're running? No, I don't. -She's got her own little Sheol--sulphur, match, and all. Let her -slide. I dare say it's all bunkum." - -"What is?" - -"Calvert, if you ask any more questions I'll chuck the case." - -"Oh, beg pardon," said Arnold, astonished at seeing the usually -good-tempered man so roused, "don't mind my asking questions. I forgot -the business was private." - -"Won't be long," said Tracey savagely, "if she's on the kind of job -she's trying to carry out. Well," he raised his voice, "what's the -best news with you?" - -"This," replied Calvert quietly, and from his pocket produced a scrap -of paper. Tracey without displaying any wonder looked at it. It was -half a sheet of pink writing-paper and contained only one line written -across lengthways. "If you get the money look under the coffee stain!" -Tracey read and re-read this, then raised his puzzled eyes. "What's -this, Calvert?" - -"That," replied the young man calmly, "is a piece of paper which I -received from Merry this morning!" - -"Was it enclosed in an envelope?" - -"Arnold handed the envelope which he was holding. It was addressed to -'Arnold Calvert' in a woman's hand of the sloping Italian kind. The -writing on the paper was also in the same handwriting. I guess as -Merry gave you this, and it's a woman's hand, that it comes from your -dead cousin," said Tracey. - -"I thought so!" - -"Didn't she give it to Merry?" - -"No, I went to the office this morning to look at some deeds connected -with the property. They had to turn out the deed-box. It is large and -hadn't been turned out to the very bottom for some time. As we -searched, Merry picked up that envelope which was closed. He gave it -to me. Merry says he never saw it before, so I expect poor Flora -slipped it into the box one day when he was out of the room." - -"But why should she do that?" - -"I am as puzzled to account for her reason as I am to know what the -message means." - -"Can't Merry enlighten you?" - -"No. I tell you he never saw the envelope till he handed it to me." - -"Hold on a shake," said Tracey, handing Calvert a cigarette; "smoke -this while I get my thinking-machine into order." - -"You'll find it difficult to guess what it is," said Calvert, lighting -up. "Merry and I were an hour over it this morning. He doesn't know -what it means, and I'm sure I don't." - -"You must be a couple of thick-heads," snapped Tracey, whose temper -was not improved by Mrs. Baldwin's visit; "the way it's worded shows -that Mrs. Brand expected to be killed." - -Arnold started to his feet. "What do you say?" - -"Mrs. Brand expected to be killed," said the American, with great -distinctness; "she says, 'if you get the money'--well, you couldn't -get the money till she was dead." - -"No, but what does the message mean?" - -Tracey laid the paper on his knees and looked across Calvert's -shoulder with his bright eyes dancing. "Oh, I guess it's panning out -all square," said he quietly; "I came here as you know in the hope of -finding some papers overlooked by that man--or woman--I guess it was a -woman--who made hay while the house was deserted. Evidently the idea -was to destroy all trace of your cousin's past life. Well, sir, I -hunted everywhere without success. Now we'll look for the coffee -stain, and under it we will find some papers which will give the whole -show away. We're on the verge of learning the truth, sir." - -"Then you think that, expecting to be murdered, she hid certain papers -giving a clue to her probable assassin?" - -"Yes I do, and the poor soul dared not put the message plainer, lest -it should fall into other hands than yours." - -"Whose hands, seeing that I am the heir?" - -"You forget that Bocaros was the heir for a time. He might have got -hold of the deed-box, and then"--Tracey shrugged his shoulders--"It's -as plain as day to me!" - -"But do you suspect Bocaros of knowing anything of this crime?" - -"No. He talked too much nonsense at the outset for that. He gave -himself away--always supposing he was guilty. Said that he lived in -the neighbourhood--that the money was coming to him--that he could -easily have gone to the villa and killed Mrs. Brand and would not be -able to prove an _alibi_ by reason of living alone. No! A man who is -guilty doesn't give himself away like that. But Bocaros, had he found -this message, might have torn it up so as to let sleeping dogs lie." - -"Still I don't understand." - -"Well, you see he might have fancied--as I do--that a discovery of the -papers may lead to the implication of the husband in this matter." - -"You think Brand killed his wife?" - -"No. It was a woman, and I believe Mrs. Fane for choice. But Brand may -have loved Mrs. Fane and so the whole trouble may have arisen. I guess -Mrs. Brand was glad to see her husband start for Australia, for I'm -certain from this message that he threatened to kill her. Bocaros -having got the money, and thinking of his living near Ajax Villa, -might have torn it up. Now Mrs. Brand if she was murdered--as she -was--wished the assassin to be brought to justice. The concealed -papers will give the clue." Tracey rose and looked round the room. -"Where the deuce are they, anyhow?" - -"Under the coffee stain," said Arnold, not rising, "and I think -instead of hunting we had better reason the matter out. A coffee-stain -would naturally be on a table-cloth." - -"A white dinner table-cloth," assented Tracey sitting, "but she -couldn't conceal papers there. I've lifted every cloth in the house -white and otherwise--there's white ones here as you see--but I -couldn't find anything. You needn't look at the roof, Calvert. The -coffee-stain won't be there." - -"No," said Arnold looking down, "it may be on the wall. - -"Not unless Brand threw a cup at her head." Tracey glanced round the -walls; they were all spotless and white. "Maybe on the carpet." - -"Have you examined the carpets?" - -"I haven't lifted them, if that's what you mean." - -"Then I dare say the papers are hidden under the carpet of this room." - -"Why here? It may be the dining-room, or----" - -"No," replied Arnold rising, "a coffee-stain would show only on a -white carpet, and it was the peculiar furnishing of this room which -gave her the idea of the hiding-place"--he looked carefully at the -floor--"but I can't see any stain." - -"A woman like Mrs. Brand," suggested Tracey, "proud of the smartness -of this room, would hide any stain. Let's move all mats and -furniture." - -Calvert thought this was a good suggestion, and they set to work. The -piano was moved, but needless to say nothing was found there. The -various draperies were pulled aside. A book-case was shifted. All the -mats were flung out of the door. When they moved everything, still no -stain appeared. Then they came to a thick wooden pedestal bearing a -plaster-of-paris Venus. It was screwed to the floor near the window -and surrounded by mats. "This is the last chance," said Tracey. - -A few minutes' work sufficed to overturn the column. There, beneath -it, and concealed by the base, was the coffee-stain spoiling the -purity of the carpet. Tracey produced a large knife, and ripped up the -carpet. Thrusting in his hand he pulled out a slim green book rather -large in size, and thereon in gilt letters were the words "My Diary!" - -"This solves the mystery," said Tracey quietly, "now we'll learn the -truth." - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -THE PROFESSOR'S TRUMP CARD - - -Inspector Derrick called to see Fane with rather a downcast expression -of countenance. The meaning of this was explained in his conversation. - -"I've done my best, sir, and there's nothing to be discovered." - -"You mean as regards the murder of this woman Brand?" asked Walter. - -"What else would I mean!" replied Derrick dismally. "I have no call to -see you about anything else, sir!" - -"The two men were seated in the morning-room where Mrs. Fane had -conversed with Laura. Walter, seated near the window, did not look -well. There were dark circles under his pale eyes, which hinted at -sleepless nights. Also there was a smell of ether in the room as -though he had been taking drugs. Derrick delicately ascribed his looks -to the fact of the unpleasant occurrence which had taken place in the -house. - -"I suppose you've come to think it haunted, sir?" he suggested. - -"No, I don't like the idea of living in a house in which a murder has -been committed. But I don't believe in the supernatural. For the sake -of my wife and child I am giving up the villa, and we intend to live -abroad for a time. But I should like the mystery solved, and the -assassin of that poor woman brought to justice before I go." - -"Derrick shook his head. It's not to be done, sir." - -"Suppose I offer a reward?" - -"Not even then, Mr. Fane. I can't find a single clue. When I -discovered that white room in the Hampstead house, I thought something -would come of it. But the assassin was clever enough to go there and -remove all evidence of the past life of Mrs. Brand--books, papers, -photographs, and those sort of things. It is true I found a photograph -of the dead woman, but we knew her looks already. Now had it been a -portrait of the husband----" - -"Ah! Do you suspect the husband?" - -"Yes and no," replied Derrick thoughtfully. "Certainly I learned that -the man went to Australia some time before the death. I found his name -in a passenger-list of an Orient liner." - -"Then he can have nothing to do with the crime." - -"Well, I don't know. A man may start for another country to make -things safe for himself, and then can come back secretly. Besides, if -it was not the husband who removed the things, how did he enter the -cottage? and why should he make such a point of destroying his own -photographs had he no aim?" - -"I can't guess. But it is equally mysterious how the woman managed to -enter this house." - -"Yes. I can't learn anything about the key being duplicated. Yet it -must have been, seeing we have the second key which was dropped by the -man who talked to Mulligan." - -"Have you found him?" - -"No; nor am I likely to. I tell you, Mr. Fane, the case is hopeless. I -believe Mr. Calvert, who came in for the money, has placed the matter -in the hands of a private inquiry-agent called Jasher. But if I can't -learn the truth, Jasher can't." - -"Is he a clever man?" - -"Well, he is. I did work with him at one time, and he appears to have -his wits about him. But this case will be beyond his wits as it is -beyond mine. I dare say Mr. Calvert would offer a reward, and I should -like to earn it. But"--Derrick rose and shook his head--"there's -nothing to be done." - -Fane thought for a few minutes, his eyes on the ground. Then he went -to his wife's desk and wrote out a cheque. "You deserve something for -your trouble," said he, handing this to Derrick. "All I ask in return -is that you should give me the photograph of the dead woman. I have a -fancy to try and learn the truth myself." - -"Oh, I'll do that," replied the Inspector, taking the cheque with -thanks; "and I'm sorry, sir, that nothing can be done. But you'll hear -no more of the case. The woman is dead and buried, and the thing is -forgotten. There is only one chance." - -"What is that?" asked Fane curiously. - -"The husband may return to the Hampstead house from Australia. If so, -we may learn something of Mrs. Brand's past, and in her past will be -found some clue leading to the detection of the assassin." - -"But if the husband is guilty, as you think, he will not return." - -"True enough. Should he return, I will take it as a proof of his -innocence. Well, good-day, sir." - -"Wait," said Fane, passing through the door along with his visitor, "I -will walk a little way with you. Tell me if you intend to have the -house watched." - -"The house at Hampstead, sir?" - -"Yes. Brand will come back there if he comes at all." - -"If you like I can have it watched, Mr. Fane; but it will cost money." - -"You can rely on me for the expense," said Fane eagerly. "I am most -anxious that no stone should be left unturned. Watch the house, and -when the man returns there let me know." - -"You can depend upon my doing that, Mr. Fane." - -"The two men were by this time at the door. As Fane opened it, he -found a man on the step just raising his hand to ring the bell. The -stranger was tall and dark, and unknown to Fane. Is there anything I -can do for you?" asked the master of the house. - -"I wish to see Mrs. Fane on business," said Bocaros, for it was he. - -"Ah! something to do with the office, no doubt," replied Fane, and -beckoned to the footman, who now stood ready to close the door. "Take -this gentleman's card to your mistress. She is in the White Room." - -The footman did as he was bidden, and Bocaros waited in the hall. Fane -went out with the Inspector, and walked along Achilles Avenue talking -eagerly. Bocaros sat down with rather a bewildered look, and passed -his lean hand across his face. It seemed to him that he knew Fane's -face, yet he was unaware of having met him before. - -"But his face seems familiar," muttered Bocaros. "Where can I have -seen him?" And he searched his memory vainly. - -Before his brain would respond to the demand on it, the footman -returned with an intimation that Mrs. Fane would see him. Bocaros -followed the man upstairs and into the White Room. Here sat Mrs. Fane, -cold and statuesque as usual, and alone. Minnie was out with her -nurse, and Laura was paying a visit to Gerty. Beside Mrs. Fane stood a -small wicker table on which a book lay open. But she was as usual -engaged in knitting, and apparently preferred her own thoughts to -those of the popular author whose book was beside her. When the -professor entered, she rose gracefully, and looked at him keenly. - -"May I ask what you have to see me about?" said Mrs. Fane, putting her -remark purposely in this way, so as to impress Bocaros with an idea -that he was favoured. - -The professor bowed, and took the chair she pointed to. He had never -seen Mrs. Fane before, and thought her a singularly lovely woman, as -she decidedly was. Also from her stern lips and piercing eyes he -judged that she was a woman who would ruthlessly carry out any scheme -which she had formed, and would press forward dauntlessly in the face -of all dangers. A clever woman, a dangerous woman, and a foe worthy to -be met and conquered. That he would conquer even this Amazon the -professor did not doubt. He knew too much for her to deny, and since -his interview with Emily Doon he had spent the time in getting certain -proofs together. - -Mrs. Fane might be clever, but she would not be able to defend herself -in the face of the facts he proposed to place before her. - -Bocaros, feeling his way carefully, did not reply at once to her -question. "You will see my name on the card," he said quietly. - -"Professor Bocaros," read Mrs. Fane. "I never heard of you." - -"Did not Miss Mason mention me?" - -"I don't recall her having done so." - -"Strange," said the man. "I am a tenant of Mrs. Baldwin." - -"My sister is a friend of Mrs. Baldwin," replied Mrs. Fane, "but it is -not to be thought that she interests herself in Mrs. Baldwin's private -affairs." - -"I live in the little house across the fields." - -"That is very interesting," said Mrs. Fane sarcastically, and -wondering why the man kept telling her things of no note; "and you are -a foreigner--a Greek. Bocaros----" - -"Constantine Bocaros." Then the Professor, feeling nettled by this -behaviour, resolved to startle her. "I am the cousin of the woman who -was murdered in this room," he said abruptly. - -But Mrs. Fane merely raised her eyebrows. "And you have no doubt come -to gratify your morbid curiosity by seeing the place where she was -struck down. Yonder it is, near the piano. Pray look, sir, and then -leave me. I do not show my house for this purpose to chance visitors." - -"Bocaros, meeting her on her own ground, sauntered to the piano with a -kind of cool insolence that made Mrs. Fane observe him attentively. - -"I suppose you know that Mr. Calvert comes in for ten thousand a year -by the death of Mrs. Brand?" said Bocaros, returning to his seat. - -"I have heard so." - -"And he is engaged to marry your sister?" - -"Mrs. Fane could not stand any more of this intrusion into her private -affairs, and rose. Will you please to state your business and go!" - -"There is no need to speak to me like that, madame," said Bocaros, -keeping his seat. "My cousin left me the money--afterwards she changed -her mind and made a new will, leaving it to Calvert." - -"Well, sir, and what has this to do with me?" - -"A great deal, as you will find. I want to learn who killed this -woman, Mrs. Fane." - -"And you come to me. I fear I cannot assist you." - -"Oh yes, I think you can." - -"Sir, you are insolent!" Mrs. Fane, drawing herself up to her full -height, was about to press the button of the bell. Bocaros stopped -her. - -"Wait a little," he said; "you can help me by explaining how you came -to be in this room on the night of the murder." - -Mrs. Fane's hand fell, and she stared at the man. "I was not." - -"You were! Your voice was heard--you sang a favourite song." - -"Indeed!" Mrs. Fane thought for a moment, but without losing her -colour or self-possession in the face of this accusation. Then she -returned to her seat, resolved to give this strange man a hearing. "I -was at the seaside when the crime was committed." - -"So I believe--your husband also?" - -"My husband also," said Mrs. Fane calmly. "Will you be so kind as to -tell me what you mean by these questions?" - -"I want to prove the guilt of Calvert." - -"I cannot help you to do so," she said impatiently. - -"Yes, you can," persisted Bocaros. "Calvert was the young man who left -this house while you were singing. You assisted him to escape. You met -him here. He used the dagger to kill Flora Brand!" - -"What dagger?" - -"The stage weapon which the cook found in the dustbin, and which you -said belonged to you." - -Mrs. Fane leaned her chin on the tips of her fingers, thinking. "You -are a gentleman," said she gravely. - -"I am, madame. I am a Greek noble--the Baron Bocaros." - -"The curled lip of Mrs. Fane showed that she thought very little of a -foreign title, but she went on quietly, watching the man all the time -like a cat. And, indeed, she did not look unlike a magnificent white -cat, sleek and feline and treacherous. Bocaros, hard as he was, winced -at the regard of her narrow eyes. Well, then, Baron Bocaros," said -Mrs. Fane in her low sweet voice, "I will be plain with you. I said -that the dagger was mine, to shield Mr. Calvert----" - -"I know. You are in love with him," burst out the professor. - -"What do you mean, sir?" demanded the woman, a tide of crimson -flushing her face. "I detest the man." - -"But I thought----" - -"Then do not think, if your thoughts lead you into such follies. What? -I love Arnold Calvert--that doll of a man who----" - -"Madame," interrupted Bocaros, wondering if this indignation was -feigned. "Calvert is my enemy, yet I say he is a manly and handsome -young gentleman. Be just!" - -"Just! I am indignant. Are you not aware I am a married woman--that I -have a child? How dare you. But that I insist upon an explanation, I -would have you turned out of the house!" - -"Bocaros arose. There is no need; I will go." - -"No. You will speak out," said she imperiously. - -"I will go," insisted the professor, "and I will take my information -to the police." - -"It is a pity you were not earlier," sneered Mrs. Fane. "Inspector -Derrick, who had charge of the case, was with my husband." - -"I met them going out of the door," replied Bocaros serenely. "Had I -known the gentleman with Mr. Fane was a police officer, I might have -been tempted to speak. But I was resolved to give you a chance to -exculpate yourself." - -"From what?" demanded Mrs. Fane angrily. - -"From participation in the murder of this poor----" - -"How dare you come and accuse me," she burst out furiously. "You must -be mad!" - -"I have proofs which will prove my sanity," said Bocaros, moving to -the door. "But I can show them to Derrick." - -Mrs. Fane intercepted him. "Stop where you are," she said sharply. -"This matter must be sifted to the bottom. Afterwards I shall go with -you myself to the police-station. If you cannot prove what you have -said, I shall have you arrested for threatening language." - -"Oh, I can prove everything," said Bocaros, returning to his seat. "And -since we now understand one another, we can proceed." - -"You will proceed," retorted Mrs. Fane, sitting down also, to answer -my questions, "or you will get into trouble, my good man. You say that -Mr. Calvert was in this room on the night of the murder?" - -Bocaros nodded, sure of his ground. "He left this house at eleven. He -was in his stage dress and spoke to the policeman. He dropped the -latch-key, and murdered----" - -"Stop. You can't be sure that he did. The woman was murdered earlier. -During the evening Mr. Calvert was at the theatre." - -"No. His part was played by his understudy up till half-past nine. He -then played in the last act and came here. He came here earlier," -insisted the professor, "and murdered the woman to get the money." - -"It might be so," muttered Mrs. Fane. "The dagger was a stage one, and -I knew from Laura that he wore one in the second act of the play." - -"He used the dagger and then threw it away into the dustbin." - -"Nonsense," said Mrs. Fane, with a shrug. "How could he get to the -dustbin when the back of the house was locked up?" - -This was a puzzle to Bocaros, but he faced it boldly. "Calvert entered -the house by your connivance, and could easily have unbarred the back -door to conceal his weapon." - -"Oh!" Mrs. Fane looked sharply at her visitor. "So you accuse me of -admitting the man?" - -"I do. You had your husband's latch-key, or had a copy made. You -expected Calvert, and admitted him. Afterwards you gave him the key to -let himself out while you averted suspicion by singing." - -"Indeed! And how did I escape?" - -"You had plenty of time. You can drive a motor-car, madame, as I know, -so you took Mr. Tracey's and went to Charing-Cross Station----" - -"On the way to Westcliff-on-Sea. Rather a roundabout way." - -"Madame, you are very clever, and wished to avert suspicion. You left -the car in the station yard, and then took the underground to -Liverpool Street Station, where you caught the midnight express to -Southend." - -Mrs. Fane changed colour at this explicit relation, and rose to her -feet. "You seem to know a great deal about my movements," said she -coolly. - -"I have satisfied myself in every respect," said Bocaros, bowing. - -"And you say I was in this room on that night--that I sang?" - -"Yes, you sang 'Kathleen Mavourneen.'" - -"Then let me tell you, Professor Bocaros, or baron, if you call -yourself so, that you are quite wrong. I was at Westcliff-on-Sea in my -drawing-room all the evening, miles away from this house. I never came -to London, I did not admit Mr. Calvert into this house, and I never -sang." - -Bocaros shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands -apologetically. "You will compel me to go to the police if you deny -these things." - -Mrs. Fane turned on him in a cold fury. "You fool," she snarled, "do -you think I would deny unless I could prove all I say? You declare -that I sang on that night. Well, you shall hear the song." - -So speaking, she crossed over the room and went behind a white velvet -curtain that hung over a kind of alcove. Wondering what she intended -to do, Bocaros sat and waited. He was astonished at her courage and -resolution, and began to think she might escape him after all. If she -did, he would not be able to prove the guilt of Arnold, since Mrs. -Fane alone could testify to his presence in the house. As he -considered, notes of music were heard behind the curtain. Mrs. Fane's -voice--a splendid contralto--rose in song. With great power and -expression she sang "Kathleen Mavourneen." Suddenly the curtain was -drawn aside and she appeared. But the song still continued, although -she was not singing. "Is that the song?" she asked, mockingly. - -"Madame----" stammered Bocaros, quite astounded and rising. - -"And is this the singer?" she asked, pointing to herself. "See." With -a quick movement she tore the curtain completely aside, and Bocaros -beheld a large phonograph pouring out the song. He gasped and -staggered back overwhelmed. Mrs. Fane advanced, smiling scornfully. "I -think you understand now," she said, seating herself, "how it was that -my voice was heard on that night in this room. Several of my songs are -registered in that instrument. I amuse my child with them. It seems -that I managed to deceive the police and you also, you fool. I wonder, -seeing how hurriedly the accompaniment is played between the verses, -that the police did not guess the truth. Well, what now?" - -The song had stopped, and the phonograph was silent. Bocaros -recovered his wits. "I still maintain that you were in London and in -this house, Mrs. Fane," he said. "You may not have sung save by that -instrument, but as for the rest I am sure. You left your house at -Westcliff-on-Sea at half-past five; you caught the six train to town; -you came here----" - -"Prove these accusations," she interrupted. - -"I have the evidence of the booking-clerk and a porter at the Southend -station to prove how you were dressed and----" - -"Who can say how I was dressed?" - -"Your maid, Emily Doon!" - -"Ah!" Mrs. Fane turned grey to the lips. "She--she----" - -"You see it at last. Yes, madame, you made her sit in the drawing-room -at Westcliff-on-Sea, acting as yourself. You dressed quietly, and she -described your dress to me. It was the same as that of the lady seen -by the porter and the booking-clerk. You returned by the midnight -train, and you were here meanwhile between six and half-past eleven." - -"No! no! no!" said Mrs. Fane fiercely. "You are clever, sir, and you -have found out much that I wished concealed. But not for the reason -you give me. I did not kill this woman. I had no cause to kill the -woman. I never saw her--I did not know her. I was not in this -house----" - -"But I tell you----" - -"And I tell you," she cried, advancing and seizing the man's arm in a -fierce grasp, "that you are wrong. Listen--to defend myself I must -tell you what I had rather kept quiet. I suspected my husband of being -in love with another woman. He received a letter on the morning of the -twenty-fourth from her. I accused him--he denied. I was furious with -rage. He said he was ill, and retired to bed. I did not see him all -the day. When I went in the evening he was gone. I guessed he had gone -to town to see this woman. It was after five. I guessed he would take -the six train. I persuaded Emily to impersonate me. I went to town. On -the Southend platform I saw my husband. I went in another carriage. At -the Liverpool Street Station I missed him and----" - -"And you came on here?" - -"No, I did not. I never thought he would dare to bring any woman -here--nor do I believe that he did so. Where he went I cannot say. But -I waited at the Liverpool Street Station throughout that long evening. -He came late and caught the midnight train. I went down also. He never -saw me, and as I had discovered nothing I said nothing. He never -thought that I had followed him: he never knew I was out of the house. -When I saw the death in the papers I never suspected him. I do not -suspect him now. Walter is too great a coward to commit a crime. And -he certainly would not have got rid of his victim in his own house, -thus bringing down the temple on his own head." - -"You believe him to be innocent?" asked Bocaros, puzzled. - -"I do. Would any man be such a fool as to act this way in his own -house? Had he known this woman, had he desired to get rid of her, he -would have taken her to the other end of London, as far away from our -home as possible." - -"I can see that. And, madame, I ask your pardon for my unjust -suspicions. You are innocent." And he bent to kiss her hand. - -Mrs. Fane snatched it away fiercely. "Innocent,--of course I am. I can -prove that I was at the Liverpool Street Station all that evening. I -was in the ladies' waiting-room. You can understand how the phonograph -deceived the police. As to this woman, I never heard of her--I don't -know her." - -"She is my cousin." - -"Then how did she come to enter my house?" - -"I thought that you secured the key and----" - -"And admitted Arnold. No, I didn't. My sister----" Mrs. Fane suddenly -clutched her hair, moved out of her usual self. "Great heavens!" she -muttered. "Can Laura have got an impression of the key and----" - -"No, no said Bocaros. I am sure Miss Mason has nothing to do with the -matter. But Calvert----" - -"If he is guilty hang him." - -"But I thought----" - -"You thought wrongly. I detest the man. I do not want him to marry my -sister. Professor, do what you like about the man. I will tell all to -the police I have told you if----" - -"I do not wish to speak to the police," said Bocaros, shivering. - -"Then hold your tongue and leave the matter in my hands. I will avenge -you. I will be able to deal with the matter. Leave it to me." - -Bocaros looked at her steadily. "Madame," he said, bowing, "I leave it -to you. Calvert is in your hands." - -"He shall never marry my sister," said Mrs. Fane feverishly. "Never." - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -A STORY OF THE PAST - - -Fane and Derrick parted at the top of Achilles Avenue, the latter -heartily thanking the former for the very handsome cheque. "And if -that husband returns, sir," said Derrick, shaking hands, "you may be -sure that I'll let you know straight off. By the way"--he drew near -confidentially--"do you know that the motor-car in which the assassin -is supposed to have escaped is in Madame Tussaud's?" - -"No"--Fane laughed--"what possible interest can it have?" - -"Well, sir, you see the mystery of the case makes it interesting. A -lot of people will go there and look at it, and talk about the case." - -"I hope they may stumble upon some evidence likely to give a clue to -the assassin." - -"Bless you, no one will do that, sir. The case has baffled me, so I do -not think there's much chance of any one else getting at the truth. I -think that American gentleman's a smart man of business, though. He -sold the car to Tussaud's at a long price." - -"H'm!" said Fane, pondering, "do you think he had anything to do with -the crime?" - -"No, sir. He missed his motor-car sure enough. Had he killed the -woman, he would have escaped in it and proved an _alibi_." - -"I think it was better what he did do. He met Mulligan and you, and -with you surveyed the corpse. That daring would avert any suspicion." - -"Have you an idea yourself, sir, that he might----" - -"No, no!" interrupted Fane hurriedly; "it's simply an idea. But I have -learned from Mr. Calvert that Tracey--that's his name, isn't it?--has -taken the Hampstead house." - -"I wonder what's that for?" asked Derrick, startled. "I want to find -out. And I'll ask Mr. Calvert this very day." - -"Are you seeing him to-day, sir?" - -"Yes; I am going there now. He wrote asking me to call this afternoon. -When I leave you I'll take a cab to his lodgings." - -Derrick mused. "I'd like to come along with you," he said. - -"No," replied Fane decisively, "better not just now. I am sure of -nothing. I only fancy Tracey may have had something to do with the -matter. Should I learn anything I shall let you know." - -"Thank you, sir. I fancy the case is finished myself; but of course -something unexpected may turn up. Good-day." - -"Good-day," replied Fane, and hailed a cab. - -Owing to his long conversation with Derrick, there was not much time -to be lost if he wished to be punctual. Wondering if Arnold desired to -see him about Laura, Fane told the cabman to drive as fast as possible -to Bloomsbury. "I expect now that he has the money, Calvert will want -to marry Laura at once," thought Fane, leaning back in the cab. "I'm -sure Julia ought to be satisfied with such a match. But she is an -impossible woman to deal with. I wish I hadn't married her. I shall -never be my own master now." - -It was lucky that things were as they were, for Fane was the last man -in the world to take the initiative. He always required to be governed -and guided, scolded and petted. The slack character of the man could -be seen from his mouth, which was constantly half-open. A pleasant, -handsome, kindhearted man was Fane, but his very good qualities added -to his weakness. His languid good-nature was always getting him into -trouble, and he was kindly not so much from a genuine feeling of the -sort as from a desire not to be troubled. It is much easier to be -yielding in this world than to hold one's own. But those who thus give -way, always have constant troubles. The only way in this best of -possible worlds to keep peace, is to be prepared for war. Human beings -invariably take advantage of one another, and a kind heart is looked -upon as a sign of weakness. - -On arriving at the Bloomsbury lodgings, Fane saw Arnold looking out of -the window, evidently on the watch for his arrival. After dismissing -the cab Fane went up stairs, and on entering Calvert's sitting-room -was greeted by its occupant with signs of restraint. Behind Arnold -stood Tracey, whom Fane recognised from having seen him at the -inquest. The American was also grave, and Fane wondered what was to be -the subject of conversation. It could not be Arnold's engagement to -Laura, or both the men would not look so serious as they did. - -"I am glad to see you, Fane," said Calvert, pushing forward a chair. -"Sit down. I hope you don't mind Mr. Tracey being present? You met him -at the inquest, I believe?" - -"We saw one another," said Fane. "I hope you are well, Mr. Tracey?" - -"I thank you, sir," said Luther gravely, "I am well. And you?" - -"Pretty well," said Fane fretfully; "but this murder has given me a -lot of anxiety. Not a pleasant thing to happen in one's house." - -"By no means, sir," replied Tracey, with a puzzled glance at Calvert. -"Is it true that you are moving, as I have been informed by Miss Gerty -B., the lady I'm engaged to?" - -"Yes; I suppose Miss Mason told her. My wife doesn't like the place -now that it has such a bad reputation. We intend to go abroad for a -time to Switzerland." - -"You'll miss your yachting," said Arnold, who was taking some papers -out of his desk. - -"I don't think I'll yacht any more," said Fane gloomily; "my sea days -are over." - -"Did you yacht much?" asked Tracey. - -"A lot. I sometimes stopped away for a couple of months." - -"What did Mrs. Fane say?" - -Fane laughed. "Oh, she didn't mind. She never cared for the sea -herself. Between you and me, Mr. Tracey, my wife is fonder of business -than pleasure. I am the reverse." - -"All the same, Fane, you must attend to business now." - -"What, Calvert, do you call your engagement to Laura business?" - -Arnold looked surprised. "I did not ask you here to talk about that," -he replied still seriously. - -"Oh," answered Fane carelessly, and taking out a cigarette, "I thought -you wanted me to make things square with Julia." - -"Laura and I understand one another," said Arnold, returning to his -seat with a green-covered book in his hand. "I am now well off, and -there is no bar to our marriage." - -"I am glad of that. A lucky thing for you, the death of that woman." - -"I would rather she had lived, poor soul," said Calvert with emotion. - -Fane shrugged his shoulders. "We all have to die some time." - -"But not by the knife," put in Tracey sharply. "The poor soul, as -Calvert calls her, met with a terrible death." - -"I know, I know," said Fane irritably. "I wish you wouldn't dwell on -the matter, Mr. Tracey. It is excessively unpleasant for me, seeing I -live in the house where she was killed. Why don't you offer a reward -to clear up the mystery, Calvert?" - -"I don't think there will be any need now," said Arnold with emphasis. - -"What do you mean?" Fane sat up suddenly. "Because Tracey and I have -reason to believe we have found the assassin." - -"What!" Fane sprang to his feet much excited. "Who is it? Tell me his -name." - -"What would you do if you knew it?" asked Tracey, who was looking at -Fane with great wonderment. - -"Do," said the other, clenching his fist, "I would hang the man." - -"How do you know it was a man? It may have been a woman." - -"Why do you say that, Mr. Tracey?" - -"Well, there was the singing, you know." - -"Nonsense! I never thought of it at the time, but now I know that the -singing proceeded from a phonograph." - -"Phonograph!" cried both men, much astonished. - -"Yes. Julia had an idea of getting records of her songs. She sings -very well, you know, Calvert. She has had a phonograph for a long -time, and amuses the child with it. That song, 'Kathleen Mavourneen,' -is a favourite with my wife, and I wondered afterwards how it came to -be sung, seeing she was at Westcliff-on-Sea. Then, when a description -was given of the kind of voice, I knew it was the phonograph." - -"Why didn't you say so at the inquest?" asked the American sharply. - -"Because it never struck me till later. But that's enough about the -matter. I'm weary of the murder. Let us talk of other things." - -"I am afraid we cannot," said Arnold, holding up the book! "Do you -know what this is, Fane?" - -"No," said the other, staring; "what is it?" - -"The diary of Mrs. Brand." - -"How strange," said Fane, but his voice sounded nervously uncertain; -"where did you find it?" - -"It was concealed," said Tracey, with emphasis; "the man who removed -all evidence of Mrs. Brand's past life could not find it. And by means -of that diary, Mr. Fane, we are enabled to prove a lot." - -"If you can prove who murdered the woman I shall be glad to hear." - -"You really mean that?" asked Tracey, staring in his turn. - -"Of course." Fane stared at Tracey in return, and then looked at -Arnold. "I'm glad you sent for me, Calvert. Let us hear everything." - -"It is the story of Mrs. Brand's life----" - -"Oh! And has it to do with the murder?" - -"I think so." - -"Does it point to the assassin?" - -"It may even do that. But we can't be sure." - -Fane threw back his head and closed his eyes. "Read on," he said; "I -will give you my opinion." - -Tracey and Calvert glanced at one another again, and then the latter -opened the book. Fane, hearing the rustle of the leaves, sat up. - -"I say, you needn't read all that," he said; "I can't stand reading at -any time, not even from an actor. Tell me the gist of the matter." - -"From the beginning?" asked Arnold, closing the book. - -"Certainly--from the very beginning." - -"As you please," replied Calvert, and handed the book to Tracey. Fane, -still smoking, again leaned back his head and closed his eyes. After a -pause, Arnold commenced the story. But after a few words, he broke -down irritably-- - -"I can't tell you the thing if you don't look at me." - -"Thanks," said Fane lazily, "I can hear better with my eyes closed." - -"Oh, don't bother!" cried Tracey roughly to Calvert. "Get along. The -thing's getting on my nerves." - -"I hope it won't get on mine," said Fane, with a sigh; "go on." - -"Mrs. Brand," commenced Arnold, without further preamble, "was the -daughter of my uncle----" - -"Yes," murmured Fane, "I heard she was your cousin." - -"I suppose you heard that from Laura," replied Arnold calmly. "Yes, -she was my cousin, and left her fortune to me, although I saw very -little of her. She is also--or rather, seeing she is dead, was -also--the cousin of Professor Bocaros, whose aunt married my uncle." - -"Never heard of him," said Fane. - -"You will hear of him now," said Calvert tartly; "do not interrupt, -please. Well, Flora----" - -"Who is Flora?" asked Fane again. - -"My cousin, Mrs. Brand. She was Flora Calvert. She kept a diary all -these years, as she led a rather lonely life. The man she married was -a commercial traveller, and was frequently away. His name was Brand, -and with his wife he lived at Hampstead." - -"In Coleridge Lane. I know." - -"Tracey muttered something uncomplimentary, and went to the window. -Fane's constant interruptions got on his nerves. During the rest of -the story he occupied a chair, and amused himself with looking out. -All the same he lost nothing of what passed. For such observation had -he been asked by Arnold to be present at the interview. - -"From the diary, which begins with her married life, it appears that -Mrs. Brand was very happy with her husband," went on Calvert. "She met -him at some open-air entertainment, where she was in danger of being -crushed by the crowd. Brand rescued her, and afterwards called on -Flora, who was then living with her mother. He called himself Adolphus -Brand." - -"Was that not his name?" - -"It is hard to say. When he first came to see Flora he told her his -name was Wentworth. She related her life, and how she expected to -inherit a fortune from an uncle called Arthur Brand who lived in -Australia. Wentworth thereupon said that he also had a cousin called -Brand, from whom he expected money. It was probable, he said, that if -he did get this money he would have to change his name. A few months -later he proposed to marry Flora, but could not do so until he got the -money." - -"Was it a large fortune?" asked Fane. - -"Not very large--a few thousand pounds. One day Brand stated that his -cousin was dead, and that he had the money on condition that he -changed his name. Now you see, Fane, how Wentworth came to be called -Brand. It was curious that he should have the same name as the uncle -from whom Flora hoped to get money." - -"A coincidence," said Fane coolly; "these things happen in real life. -It is only in fiction that coincidences appear to be absurd." - -"Well, to continue the story," said Arnold, stealing a glance at the -American, "Brand married my cousin after the death of her mother. He -took her to live at Gunnersbury." - -"I thought you said they lived at Hampstead." - -"Later on they did, but not when they first married. Brand--as he -said--was a commercial traveller." - -"As he said; you doubt his statement then?" - -"I have reason to," responded Calvert gravely. "Please let me tell the -story in my own way. You can comment on it when it is done. Brand -being, as he said, a commercial traveller, was often away for months -at a time. Flora, suspecting nothing wrong----" - -"Why should she?" asked Fane. - -"Wait," said Arnold. "Flora, suspecting nothing wrong, was quite happy. -Her husband was fond of her, and they lived in complete harmony. He -had banked the money he received from his cousin, and proposed later, -when his business affairs were more prosperous, to furnish a house for -her. Especially did he promise to furnish a White Room." - -Fane sat up, with a lively expression on his face. "Ah, now, this is -becoming interesting. I have a White Room in my house." - -"Yes. And poor Flora was murdered there." - -"By whom?" asked Fane innocently. - -"You'll hear that later. To resume the story. Things were arranged in -this way, and husband and wife lived very comfortably, although -neither had money. But Flora expected to get a large fortune from her -Australian relative. He had promised to leave it to her, and -corresponded constantly with her. Afterwards finding Gunnersbury -inconvenient for his business, Brand removed to Hampstead. Flora took -Fairy Lodge, and furnished it and attended to all that. The husband -should have done that work," said Arnold with emphasis, "but for some -reason he rarely showed himself. Flora's landlord, for instance, never -set eyes on Mr. Brand." - -"He seems to have been a mysterious person," said Fane coolly. "Go on, -please. The story is becoming exciting." - -"It will be so before it is finished. Well, Flora settled down in -Fairy Lodge. Her husband stayed away a great deal." - -"On business?" interrupted Fane. - -"So he said," replied Calvert calmly; "but he was away months at a -time. Flora never suspected anything to be wrong. But after a time she -noticed that Brand was not so loving as he had been. He tried to make -it up to her by promising to furnish the grand house they had often -talked about. But Flora would not let him do this until the money came -from the Australian relative. Then news came that the old man was ill. -He wrote and told Flora that a will had been made in her favour, -leaving her all his money, which amounted to some thousands a year." - -"The money you have now?" - -"Yes," assented the young man; "the money I have now. On hearing the -news Brand would not be restrained any longer. He told Flora that he -would furnish the house, but that he must be allowed to do it in his -own way. He did not tell her where the new house was, nor did he -consult her about the furnishing." - -"What about the White Room then?" - -"He knew how to furnish that," said Arnold quickly; "the White Room -was a freak on the part of my cousin. She always had a fancy to have a -room entirely white, and she had one at Hampstead. - -"I had one at Troy," said Fane coolly; "what of that?" - -"Nothing. Only it is strange that you should have had the same idea of -furnishing an odd room as Flora. Well, then, things were thus a year -or two ago when news came that the Australian Brand had married his -housekeeper, and that the money would likely be left to her." - -"What a blow to your cousin," said Fane ironically. - -"Yes; a great blow. From the moment the news arrived Brand grew colder -than ever, and stayed away for longer periods. Husband and wife began -to quarrel, as Flora fancied herself neglected. Life grew more and -more unhappy, as I find from the unfortunate woman's diary, until she -was thoroughly miserable about the beginning of the present year. It -was shortly before July that she received a visit from her Greek -cousin Bocaros." - -"What did he come to see her for?" - -"To find a friend," said Arnold gravely. "The man was lonely and -unhappy. So was Flora. The two got on well, but Bocaros never saw -Brand. He had gone to Australia." - -"Why did he go there?" - -"He thought he might be related to Brand, seeing that his cousin who -had left him the money bore that name. He fancied that if this were so -he might induce old Brand in Australia to give Flora some of the -money, and so went to Australia. While he was away Flora received a -letter stating that Brand was dead, and that the money was hers." - -"What about the marriage?" - -"That was a strange thing, Fane. Of course Brand's marriage -invalidated the will leaving Flora the money. He did many his -housekeeper, but he refused to make a new will, as it seems she had -trapped the old man into the marriage. When Brand died, it was found -that the woman had been married before. Therefore----" - -"The marriage was no marriage, and the will in Mrs. Brand's favour -stood firm," said Fane. "Is that what you mean?" - -"It is. The marriage being no marriage gave the property to Flora. She -saw Laing and Merry, and learned that she inherited about ten thousand -a year." - -Fane gave a kind of groan. "Ten thousand a year," he repeated, "and -you have this money--lucky fellow!" - -"I would rather it had not come to me, Fane, than in such a way." - -"What do you mean?" - -"By the tragic death of my cousin." - -"Yes, yes," said Fane irritably; "how you harp on that murder. Go on." - -"Well, then, Mrs. Brand had the money. It was then that Bocaros told -her that Brand was false." - -"How do you mean false?" - -"Brand," said Arnold, keeping his eyes on the other man's face, "was -married to another woman and under another name--probably his real -name. Bocaros found this out." - -"How do you prove that?" - -"By the diary, which is kept up to the very day my miserable cousin -went to the house where her husband posed as a married man." - -"Go on," said Fane very calm. - -"It was at this time Brand came back." - -"I thought you said he had gone to Australia." - -"So he had," explained Arnold; "but he told Flora that he had heard of -Brand's death, and had not thought it worth while to go on. Flora told -him she had the money, and then accused him of being married. He -denied this. There was a great row, and Brand left the house. Bocaros -came back. He insisted that what he said about the second marriage was -true, but he refused to tell Flora the real name of her husband. He -said, however, that he would take her to the house. He advised her to -obtain an impression of the key in Brand's pocket, so that she might -prove to herself by the key fitting that the house was her husband's. -The plan commended itself to Flora. When Brand returned she pretended -to believe his lies, and took an impression of the key when he was -asleep. This she gave to Bocaros, who got a duplicate key made. He -gave her this. Brand then thinking all was right with Flora, departed. -Flora arranged to meet Bocaros at the house of Brand on the night of -the 24th of July." - -Fane rose with a white face, and began to walk to and fro. "Go on," he -said harshly; "what more?" - -"Is there anything more to tell?" said Arnold, also rising. "Flora -went to your house. Whether she met Bocaros there or not I cannot say. -Her diary is written up to the time she set out on that last journey. -Before leaving, and thinking she might be in danger, she hid the -diary, and left a note for me in the deed-box at Laing and Merry's, -the lawyers. But she went to the house before nine, she admitted -herself with the duplicate latch-key, and in the White Room, which -really and truly had been furnished for her, she met with----" - -"Stop cried Fane, his lips grey and his face drawn and white; am I to -understand that you accuse me of being the husband of Mrs. Brand?" - -"Yes, Mr. Brand, I do. Your name is Fane, but you called yourself -Brand to marry Flora. Your first marriage is a real one, your second -false. You are a bigamist and----" - -"And a murderer. Why not say the word?" - -"I do say it. You are the man who stabbed that poor woman when she was -at the piano. You set the phonograph going so that the police might be -deceived. The dagger you used was one left by me at Flora's by -accident. She took it with her, poor soul, perhaps to kill you for -having treated her so. Heaven only knows to what lengths her misery -might not have carried her and----" - -"Lies! Lies! All lies!" said Fane furiously. "I am not the man. I -don't believe this cock-and-bull story. Julia Mason is my true wife." - -"Julia Mason is Julia Mason still," said Arnold. - -"No. I know nothing of your cousin. I dare you to prove that I am the -husband of Flora Brand." - -"I guess I can do that," said Tracey, stepping forward and producing a -photograph from his pocket. "I remained in that Hampstead house, Mr. -Brand-Fane, to search and see what I could find in order to set things -square. I found an old photograph of Mrs. Brand. I went to the -photographer's and learned that she had been taken at one time some -years ago along with her husband. Here's the photograph, and you will -see that you are the man." - -Fane nervously snatched the photograph, and looked at it. There he -was in the company of Flora Brand. With a groan he dropped the -photograph, staggered to a chair, and covered his face. "It has come -out at last," he groaned. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -STILL A MYSTERY - - -The two men stood in silence, looking down on the wretched creature -shivering in the chair. Walter Fane had never been much of a man, and -now that his guilt had been brought home to him, he looked more of a -craven than ever. A rat would have showed a braver front, for when in -a corner that animal will fight. But Fane did not even show his teeth. -He lay in the chair, huddled up, with his face covered, and moaned -like a rabbit taken in a trap. - -There seemed no doubt as to his guilt, and none was in the mind of the -two men who had hunted him down. The evidence was without a flaw, and -if Fane escaped the gallows, he so richly-deserved, it would be more a -miracle than by any natural occurrence. The diary of his wife, -identified him with the husband who had grown weary of her. The -evidence of the key showed how she had entered the house, which had -originally been furnished for her, and it only remained to learn from -the lips of the assassin precisely how the crime had been committed. -Fane made no attempt to defend himself. He did not even state that he -had been at Westcliff-on-Sea on the night, and at the very time of the -murder. He simply lay there crushed, and in spite of the horror of the -cold-blooded crime he had committed, in spite of his cowardliness, the -two men pitied a human being who could fall so low, and behave so -basely. Even the courage of a rogue can be admired, but there was -nothing worthy of admiration in the conduct of the man who had thus -been caught. - -Arnold spoke first, and even though he pitied in some ways the man, he -could not render his voice other than cold and harsh. "Well, Fane," he -said sharply, "and what is to be done?" - -Fane did not reply. He only moaned. Tracey answered for him. "There's -only one thing to be done, I guess," said he; "hand him over to the -police. He deserves it." - -The miserable man sprang to his feet with a shrill cry. "No! no! I -will kill myself first. You shall not--you shall not"; and he glared -at them with dishevelled hair and bloodshot eyes, his face white, his -lips grey in an extremity of fear. Calvert took no notice but turned -to the American. - -"I am unwilling to do that," he said. "After all I am to marry Laura, -and there is her sister to be considered. Should the whole truth be -made public, Mrs. Fane will suffer. She is not this man's wife. I must -think of her and the child, Tracey." - -"That's true," assented the other, pondering. Then he looked up in a -brisk manner. "I reckon the best thing is for Fane here to tell us the -whole story." - -"You have heard the story," moaned Fane, still hiding his shameful -face. - -"Not your version of it," said Tracey. "I dare say you'll try and make -black appear white, and swear you didn't kill your wife." - -Fane looked up. "I'll swear to that certainly," he said solemnly. "I -did not kill her." - -Arnold turned from him in disgust, thinking to save his neck he was -lying, but Walter caught him by the coat. "Calvert! Calvert! listen to -me only a moment--only a moment. I swear by all that's holy that I did -not lay a finger on Flora." - -"You acknowledge that she was your wife?" - -"I do--I do." - -"And that she came to the house?" - -"Yes, yes!" - -"And that you saw her there?" - -"Not alive--not alive. She was dead when I set eyes on her." - -"That's a lie, anyhow," said Tracey. - -"It is not a lie." - -"It is. You want to save your neck. Hang it man, confess, and die like -a man. You killed this poor woman to rid yourself of her." - -"No! I didn't. I swear I didn't. Oh, why won't you believe me?" - -"You are such a liar," said Tracey. "But I don't want to be hard on -you. Take a drink of brandy. It will pull you together. Calvert, with -your permission----" - -The American went to the side-board and filled a glass. While he was -thus occupied, Calvert touched the man on the shoulder. Fane, who had -again sunk into the chair, trembling and white, looked up. "Take the -brandy," said Calvert quietly, "and then tell us your story. Until I -am absolutely convinced of your guilt, I am willing to give you the -benefit of the doubt." - -"Oh bless you--bless you!" Fane seized Arnold's hand, and tried to -kiss it, but the young man drew it away, with an ejaculation of -disgust, and wiped it. - -"Be a man," he said angrily. "If you had nerve enough to kill poor -Flora in that brutal manner, surely you can face the result." - -"I didn't kill her, I tell you," cried Fane in an hysterical manner. -"I am as innocent as you are. Give me the brandy--give--ah!" - -He had it to his lips by this time, and drained the glass of neat -spirits at a draught. Then he coughed, placed the glass on the table, -and sat down. The spirit give him the courage he lacked, and after a -few moments he looked up, more composed. - -"Sit down, Calvert, and you, Mr. Tracey. I'm going to make a clean -breast of it. But you will not find me so bad as you think." - -"Whatever you may say, the case is bad enough," growled Tracey, and -took a seat. Calvert did the same, and both pair of eyes were turned -expectantly on the culprit. Fane began in a hurry, as though he was -afraid lest the effect of the spirit should die out, and leave him -powerless to finish his gruesome recital. - -"I am the husband of Flora Brand," he declared in a low voice, and -with a flushed face, induced by shame at his position. "I met her five -or six years ago--I forget the exact time--and married her." - -"Why did you call yourself Wentworth?" asked Arnold. - -Fane wriggled and looked down. "I hardly know," he said faintly. "I -wanted----" he paused, then out came the truth with a violent effort. -"I wanted two strings to my bow." - -"As how?" asked Tracey, watching him. - -"In this way. I met Flora in a crowd at some fireworks. She was in -danger of being crushed. I rescued her. She was pretty, and I admired -her. I followed up the acquaintance, and called on her mother." - -"As Wentworth?" - -"Yes! I--I----" here Fane wriggled again, and made an effort as though -swallowing a lie. "I called myself Wentworth, because I didn't wish -her to know my real name. For the same reason I said I was a -commercial traveller." - -"I don't see the reason." - -"You will soon," said Fane, with a cynical look, for, as the brandy -took more effect on him, he became bolder. "I had a small sum of money, -and no occupation. If I wanted to be at ease, it was necessary that I -should marry a rich woman. I wanted to leave a way of escape." - -"I see," said Tracey, in a tone of disgust. "You intended to marry -Flora under your false name, so that should occasion offer, you might -marry a wealthy woman under your real one." - -"Yes," said Fane calmly; "that was my intention. But I did not intend -to marry Flora at all at first. Then I fell so deeply in love with her -that I decided to ask her to be my wife. She told me of the money she -expected from Brand in Australia, and of course that made me eager to -marry her." - -"Then why did you take the name of Brand?" - -"One of my friends saw me in the neighbourhood, and I could no longer -assume the name of Wentworth. Flora's mother was just dead, so I told -her that I expected money from a man called Brand, who had the same -name as the man in Australia." - -"You got the name from him?" - -"Yes - -"Well," said Calvert, "I don't see your reason for the change of name. -Wentworth would have served quite as well to hide your contemplated -villainy. I suppose you know, Mr. Fane, that even though you married -Flora under a false name, the marriage holds good." - -Fane shivered. "Yes, I learned that from my lawyer when I went to see -him about my marriage with Julia. I had no intention of committing -bigamy. Circumstances were so strong----" - -"Oh, chuck that," said Tracey roughly; "get along with the yarn." - -"Fane looked angrily at the indignant face of the American, and -obeyed. He had no alternative. - -"I took the name of Brand, and married Flora. We lived at Gunnersbury, -and were always talking what we should do, when we got the Brand -money. I intended to furnish a house with the money I had." - -"What about the White Room?" - -"That was a favourite fancy of Flora's. She loved a white room. I -promised to furnish one in the new house." - -"Then you did not furnish Ajax Villa for Miss Mason?" - -"No; for Flora. News came that the old man was very ill--probably -dying. The money had been left to Flora. On the strength of that, I -spent my money in furnishing the villa, so that when we inherited the -fortune I might take Flora there." - -"It seems to me you counted your chickens before they were hatched, -Fane," said Calvert; "but it's just the sort of thing a weak man like -you would do. I suppose you loved Flora in a way." - -"I did love her. I loved her very dearly. Had I not done so I would -have severed myself from her when I married Julia. As it was----" - -"You betrayed both women," finished Calvert. "Yes?" - -Fane hung his head, for the scorn in Calvert's voice was hard to bear -with patience. - -"I knew Julia for some time, and knew she was rich. She took a fancy -to me, and I saw that I would only have to ask her to be my wife, and -she would consent. Then came the news that old Brand had married his -housekeeper. I thought it was all up with the chance of getting the -money, so I married Julia. As a commercial traveller (as Flora -believed me to be) I could stop away for a long time. I induced -her to take the Hampstead house, and did not appear in the matter. I -acted----" - -"Like a mean hound!" cried the American wrathfully. "In our country -you'd have been tarred and feathered, and lynched on the top it." - -"There's no need to call names," said Fane cynically. "I am at your -mercy, so----" - -"You deserve none." - -"Calvert, I appeal to you," said Fane, turning to the other. - -"You shall have strict justice, and no more," said Arnold, in an icy -tone; "anything I do will be for the sake of your wife and child." - -Fane shrugged his shoulders, and sneered. "Virtuous men," he said; "oh, -what virtuous men! But had you been in a dilemma, as I was, you would -have acted as I did. I had little money, having foolishly spent a lot -on the furnishing of Ajax Villa. Also, I had to pay the rent. And you -know, Calvert, how magnificently it is furnished." - -"White Room and all," said Calvert, coldly and unsmilingly. - -"Yes, I arranged that to surprise Flora. But after we learned that the -money of Brand would not come to us, we did not get on well together." - -"I guess you made her suffer," said Tracey savagely. - -"No. The fault was with Flora. She thought I was in love with other -women, and was jealous." - -"She had cause to be. Go on." - -"Not so, as far as she knew," replied Fane coolly. "Well, we did not -get on harmoniously. Then, finding matters were desperate with me, I -proposed to Julia, and married her." - -"And you took her to the villa you had prepared for Flora?" - -"Yes, I did," said Fane defiantly. "Julia's money could keep up that -house, and Flora had none. I told Julia I was fond of yachting, and -she allowed me to go away for months at a time. She did not mind so -long as I left her control of the business, as I did. I bought into -the firm with a little of my money, and a good deal of hers. The -business rightfully belonged to her, so she did the work." - -"And you went away yachting?" - -"I never yachted at all--or very little," said Fane in a contradictory -manner. "I spent the time when away from Julia with Flora." - -"And the time you indulged yourself as a commercial traveller, you -spent at Ajax Villa," said Calvert. - -"Yes. I managed to keep both wives, and both households." - -"Calvert and Tracey, amazed by the utter shamelessness of the man, -stared at one another. But they could not help admiring the cleverness -which he had employed to live this double life. How long did it last?" -asked Calvert. - -"For three years more or less. At last things became so bad that I -wanted to be away from Flora for a long time. I suggested that I might -be a relative of Brand and that I should go to Australia. Flora -believed that I went." - -"And all the time you were posing as Fane at Ajax Villa?" - -"I was--I told Julia I was tired of yachting. I remained at home----" - -"One of your homes." - -"In my own home," said Fane, with emphasis, "under my own name. I -suppose this man Bocaros--although I don't know him--must have seen me -and have put two and two together." - -"Yes," chimed in Tracey, "and no doubt he heard of you from Miss Mason, -who is a friend of Gerty B. She is the daughter of Bocaros's landlady, -Mrs. Baldwin, and he was frequently at her house." - -Fane groaned. "To think I should have been given away like that," he -said in a melancholy tone, "and I never knew the danger. I wonder why -Bocaros told Flora?" - -"For the money, I guess," said Tracey, "seeing she made a will in his -favour. But that needs clearing up; the professor shall do it. You get -along with your story." - -"There's little more to tell." - -"Oh yes, there's a lot. What about the crime?" - -"I am innocent," protested Fane solemnly; "I came back to Flora while -Bocaros was poisoning her mind. She accused me of being married but I -denied it. She never mentioned Bocaros, or I should have been placed -on my guard. I remained a time in the Hampstead house, and I suppose -while I was there Flora, under the direction of Bocaros, managed to -take an impression of my key. I always wore my latch-key on a chain, -but Flora could easily have taken an impression while I was asleep. -Then I went away for the last time, thinking that her jealous fears -were at rest. She told me about the money, and I was enraged to think -how I was done out of it. Julia has not ten thousand a year," said -Fane sadly, "or anything like it. I would have done better to stick to -Flora." - -"Go on," said Arnold impatiently, "for heaven's sake spare us these -remarks. You left the Hampstead house, thinking all was well." - -"Yes," replied Fane, with a sullen glance at the man who rebuked him, -"and all would have been well but for that interfering Greek. I went -down to Westcliff-on-Sea, and stopped with my wife." - -"With Miss Julia Mason?" - -"With my wife," said Fane savagely; "I look upon her as my wife." - -"Does she know you were married before?" - -"No. She knows a lot and about the death of Flora. But she thinks----" - -Arnold rose. The man sickened him. "Don't say anything more. I can -understand what lies you told her. Come to the point. Why did you come -up on that night to Ajax Villa?" - -Fane gave Arnold a second ugly look. "I came, because on the morning -of the twenty-fourth I received a letter from Flora saying she had -found out my house and was going there on that night to see my wife. -She insisted I should be there also so that she might learn the exact -truth." - -"As though a low-down cuss like you was capable of telling it," said -Tracey, in disgust; "but how did the letter come to the seaside? Did -Mrs. Brand know your address there?" - -"No. The letter was addressed to Ajax Villa, and sent on. It had been -written on the previous day, and had I received it earlier, I should -have gone to Hampstead and seen Flora. As it was, I had no time, and -could see her only at the villa." - -"You had the whole day," said Arnold dryly, "seeing that you received -her letter in the morning." - -"Yes. But Mrs. Fane was in the room when I received it. She became -angry, for she is a very jealous woman. I swore it was not from a -woman. She would not believe me, and all that day kept a watch on me. -I could not get away, yet I felt, to put things straight and to -persuade Flora to hold her tongue, I must. I then pretended to be ill -and went to bed. After five I slipped out and took the six train to -town. I have reason to believe that my wife followed----" - -"We'll come to that later," said Calvert quickly. "Did you go at once -to the villa?" - -"No. Flora said she would not be there till between eight and nine. I -waited in town. Then I met a friend and he detained me till nearly -nine. I got away at last, and went to the villa. It was in darkness. I -could not find Flora in the garden where I expected she would be." - -"You didn't know she had a key?" - -"No. She said nothing about it in her letter. I wondered where she -was, then concluded that as I was late she had gone away. I intended -going to the Hampstead house, but thought I would go into my own for a -time. I opened the door, and went upstairs. I entered the White Room, -and there I found Flora, dead." - -"Dead!" it was Arnold who spoke; "you swear she was dead?" - -"Yes, I swear it," said Fane, striking his breast in a somewhat -theatrical manner. "She was lying dead on the mat before the -piano, and had apparently been struck from behind. I looked at my -watch;---it was a quarter past nine. I was horrified and wondered how -she had come by her end. I searched the house. There was no one about, -and all the doors were barred. About half-past nine, while I was -searching in the back, I heard a ring at the door. I was terrified, -and thought if I were found in the house with the dead that I would be -arrested." - -"And it's a pity you were not," said Tracey. - -"A ring at the door at half-past nine," said Arnold thoughtfully; "I -expect that was Laura. She promised to meet me there then. But after a -time, as no one came to the door, she went away." - -Fane stared at Calvert. "What was Laura doing there?" he asked. "I -knew you came, but Laura----" - -"How did you know I came?" said Arnold sharply. - -"I saw you." - -"Where?" - -"In the White Room when you looked at the body." - -"Then you remained in the house?" - -"I was afraid to go," said Fane, with a shudder; "I thought some one -would see me coming out of the house, and that I would be arrested -when the crime came to light. I had an idea of disposing of the body, -but I could not. After the ring at the door I waited for a time. Then -I stole back to the White Room, and took the dagger which was lying by -the body." - -"A stage dagger?" - -"Yes. Though I didn't know it was so at the time. I went to the back -and thrust it into the dustbin out of sight. I was afraid to take it -away with me lest it should be found on me, for that with the dead -body and my relations with the dead woman, would have been evidence -enough to hang me. I hid the dagger in the bin. Then I was coming back -to the room, when I heard footsteps." - -"Whose footsteps?" - -"I don't know. I was too afraid to venture out. I remained in the back -part of the house almost mad with terror. Calvert," cried Fane, -clasping his hands, "I assure you I thought my brain would give way. I -fancied that the police were in the house and that the body had been -discovered. I made up my mind to be arrested. Had I but had the nerve -I would have gone back for the dagger and killed myself." - -Tracey sneered. "People of your sort don't kill themselves. Well, how -long did you hide?" - -"I can't say. Till some time after ten. Then I heard the front door -close and stole out. I went up to the White Room. The body was still -undisturbed. I wondered how I could get away and down to Southend so -as to establish an _alibi_. Then I waited and heard you come in. Yes, -I heard the door open. I concealed myself behind the hangings of the -room. I saw you enter. You started when you saw the dead and -recognised the body, to my surprise. Arnold, how was it you never knew -me as Flora's husband?" - -"I saw very little of my cousin," said Arnold, "and she scarcely spoke -of you." - -"But the photographs?" - -"I never saw any of you." - -"Yet there were several. Afterwards, when all was quiet, and after the -body was buried, I went to the Hampstead house and removed all papers -and photographs so that my connection with Flora might not be known." - -"You forgot a photograph that Derrick found, and one that I picked -up," said Tracey; "then there was a diary." - -"I never thought of the diary," said Fane, passing his hand across his -face, "yet I should have. Flora told me she kept one, and I might have -guessed she would set down everything. But I was in such terror at -being discovered in the Hampstead house that I forgot." - -"You were a coward right through," said Arnold coldly; "however, go -on. What happened after you saw me?" - -"I waited. You went down the stairs evidently in a great fright. As -you recognised the body I knew you would not call in the police, as -you apparently fancied you might be accused. When you left I went to -the window to see you go out. I saw the officer passing, and then to -make him think that people were in the house, and to drive you away, I -set the phonograph going." - -"I heard it--I was in the hall," said Arnold, "and I was afraid. I -admit it, Fane, I was terribly afraid." - -"I guessed you would be. You left the house. I saw the policeman lean -over the gate to listen. I saw you join him. I saw you walk away. Then -I thought I would escape. When you were gone with the officer, I stole -out. I passed along a by-street. I saw a motor----" - -"My car," said Tracey, "and you took it to Charing Cross." - -"I did," nodded Fane, "then I left it there and caught the underground -railway to Liverpool Street, where I took the express to Southend. The -rest you know." - -"Not who killed Mrs. Brand," said Arnold. - -Fane considered. "I can't tell you who did," he said; "she was dead -before I came, so those who came into the house after ten could not -have killed her." - -"Do you know who they were?" - -"No! I heard footsteps." - -"How do you know there were two?" - -"I only think so. There might have been only one person. I can't say, -I was not in a state to think. I hid, and then all happened as I say. -I don't know who killed my wife. I got back to Southend and afterwards -heard the body had been discovered. I came to town and bluffed out the -whole matter with that fool of a Derrick. When I heard about the -Hampstead house being found I went there before Derrick came, and -removed everything, as I said." - -"Did you find nothing to lead you to think who killed Mrs. Brand?" - -Fane hesitated. "I can hardly say," he said, feeling in his -watchpocket, "but as you know so much you may as well know all." - -"We must know all for your safety." - -"You believe I am guiltless?" - -"Yes," said Arnold slowly, "I think you are, seeing that your story is -consistent. But we'll see. I will do nothing publicly for the sake of -your wife and Laura. What did you find?" - -Fane took out his watch-chain and produced an old-fashioned, small -round locket of pale gold. "That was in the hand of Flora," he said. -"I expect she grasped at it when the murderer struck at her." - -"There was a struggle, then," said Calvert, and opened the locket. He -gave a cry: "Calvert, it's Mrs. Baldwin's face!" - -Tracey started also. Sure enough it was the face of Mrs. Baldwin only -much younger-looking. "I said a woman did it," murmured Tracey -heavily, "but I never thought it would be that woman. Yet she might be -the one." - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -THE HOUSE IN THE FIELDS - - -While these events were taking place, Professor Bocaros was having -rather an unpleasant time with Emily Doon. One morning she came crying -to him, with the information that Mrs. Fane had dismissed her for her -treachery. "And it's all your fault," said Emily. - -"I am very sorry," began the professor. - -"What's the use of sorrow?" lamented Miss Doon. "Will sorrow keep -bread and butter in my mouth? I have been dismissed without a -character, and where am I to go?" - -"There's your sister----" - -"Oh, thank you, baron," flamed up the girl; "but I can arrange my own -affairs. You had no business telling Mrs. Fane. Had I known you -intended to play me so dirty a trick I should not have spoken." - -"It was necessary that I should do so, for my schemes." - -"Well, and what are your schemes coming to? Here am I without a -situation, and with hardly a penny. I shan't go to Fanny's. She would -keep me toiling and moiling in her horrid lodging-house from morning -to night. I am not used to hard work. Keep your promise and marry me." - -"I am only too glad to do that," said Bocaros quickly. "You know that I -love you very dearly." - -"You wouldn't treat me so badly if you did. What about the money?" - -Bocaros frowned. "I can't say yet," he said. "But get that money I -will. As to your dismissal, I shall see Mrs. Fane and put it right." - -"Not with her," said Emily, rising. "She's a hard one, she is, and I -shan't go back to be sneered at. Money or no money, I marry you." - -"But if I don't get the money," said Bocaros doubtfully. - -"I'll still have the title, and one can do so much with the title." - -"The professor seized her wrist. When you marry me you will have to -behave yourself," he said. "I am not going to give you my honoured -name for you to drag in the mud." - -"I'll do as I like," gasped Emily defiantly. - -"You will not. Become my wife if you choose, for I love you too well -to give you up, money or no money. But once you are the Baroness -Bocaros, you will be above suspicion. Play me false, soil my name, and -I'll kill you." - -"You look just the sort to kill a woman," said Miss Doon, wrenching -her hand away. "For all I know, you killed that cousin of yours to get -the money." - -The professor shook her hard. "How dare you say that!" he exclaimed -furiously. "I do not know who killed my cousin. But I more than -suspect Arnold Calvert. I spoke to your mistress. She can prove much, -and she will. The money--the money----" Bocaros convulsively opened -and shut his hand. "I must have that money." - -"Well," said Emily, rising to go, "you hear me. I'm going to Fanny for -a week, and I shall expect to hear from you. I'll marry you as soon as -you can get the licence, and I'll behave as I like." - -"No," said Bocaros savagely. - -"Yes," she retorted. "Don't you think I'm a fool, baron, because I'm -not. I can play my own game. If you don't marry me, I'll tell the -police what I told you." - -"You'll ruin your mistress if you do." - -"She's ruined me," retorted Miss Doon, her hand on the door, "and I -always pay my debts. I don't know what game you are playing, but, as I -say, I can play my own." - -Bocaros made a dash at her, but she was too quick for him. With -wonderful dexterity she whipped through the door, and was outside, -walking rapidly away, before he had time to recover from his rage. He -went back to his chair, and flung himself down with a curse. Mrs. Fane -had evidently played him false, since she had behaved so with her -maid. Bocaros had thought she was in his power, but the dismissal of -Emily showed that Mrs. Fane was quite prepared to make the matter -public. If this were the case, she might not be ready to assist him in -punishing Arnold, since she would not care to be mixed up with a -murder case. And the whole chance of getting the money out of Calvert -lay in the fact of the matter being kept quiet. From Arnold's -demeanour Bocaros did not think he was guilty, but he fancied he could -frighten him, and so gain his ends. But if Mrs. Fane made the whole -affair public, Calvert might--and probably would--face the worst. No -money would be forthcoming then. So Bocaros sat gnawing his fingers, -filled with perplexing thoughts and looking old and worn. - -"I'll see Jasher," he said to himself, "and tell him all. He may see a -way out of the matter. I'll write to him to come here this evening." - -So saying, the professor sat down and wrote a letter, which he -directed to the Private Inquiry-Office. He closed the envelope and -stamped it, and then returned to his seat. Hardly had he sat down when -a sharp knock came to the door. Glancing through the window, the -professor saw Calvert and Tracey on the step. Here was the very man he -was wishing to circumvent putting his head into the lion's mouth. But -Bocaros did not like the presence of Tracey, as the American was so -sharp. He could deal with Arnold, but Tracey was beyond him. At first -he decided to remain quiet in the hope that the two men would depart, -but his curiosity got the better of his prudence, and he opened the -door, to be met by the smile of Luther. - -"Well, professor, and how are you?" said Luther, stepping inside -without an invitation. "I have brought Mr. Calvert to see you. We want -to say a few words." - -"I am delighted to see you, Mr. Calvert," said Bocaros, very much on -his guard from this polite demeanour of Tracey. "Come in. I hope you -will excuse my humble abode. With your money, you are used to -palaces." - -"Only to Bloomsbury lodgings," said Arnold, taking a seat. "You forget -I have only come into my kingdom lately. By the way, was not that Mrs. -Fane's maid I saw leaving your house?" - -"It was. She came on an errand." - -"Arnold glanced curiously at the man. He did not know the truth, nor -could he guess what errand had brought Miss Doon to this lonely house. -He was seated near the window, and the professor went to get another -chair. Tracey, who was walking about, spied the letter to Jasher on -the desk. Taking it up, he looked at the address, then without a -moment's hesitation slipped it into his pocket. Arnold did not see -this proceeding, or he might have objected. But Luther had considered -the matter. He suspected Bocaros, and wondered what devilry he was up -to in corresponding with Jasher. He therefore took the letter to read -at his leisure, and should it be harmless he would send it on. But -Tracey was unscrupulous, and thinking he was dealing with a rogue, -resolved--as in the present instance--to beat him with his own -weapons. Having thus accomplished his purpose, he returned to his -seat, when Bocaros, with an extra chair, entered the room. - -"Well, gentlemen," said the professor when seated, "what can I do?" - -"That's rather a difficult question to answer, professor," said -Calvert, signing to Tracey to hold his too fluent tongue. "Mr. Tracey -and I have come to see you about this murder." - -"What have I to do with it?" asked Bocaros coldly. - -"Well, you asked me to search for the criminal, and said if I did not, -you would do so yourself. Have you?" - -"Yes," replied Bocaros, "I have searched with Jasher. From all I have -learned, sir--since we are to speak plainly--I think you are the -guilty person." - -"And if I am, professor, what will you do?" - -"Bocaros rose. I don't exactly know. I hate you for killing Flora, who -was a charming woman; but since you are a relative of mine----" - -"Only a relative by marriage," interrupted Calvert. "That hardly -counts, I think." - -"Still, you are a relative," persisted the professor, "so I am willing -to hush the matter up." - -"For money, I guess," said Tracey, who had not lost a word. - -"Certainly, for money," said Bocaros dryly. "The fortune of my cousin -should be mine. She changed her mind and left it to you. I claim -half." - -"And you will hold your tongue if I give you five thousand a year?" - -"Yes; I will certainly do that," said the professor, thinking he was -getting on capitally. - -"What about the detective?" asked Luther. - -"Jasher? Well, you will have to settle with him also. He will require -money also." - -"And if I refuse to pay you or Jasher?" asked Arnold. - -"I shall ask Jasher to see Inspector Derrick and tell what we know." - -Arnold looked curiously at Bocaros, and wondered at the hardihood of -his threat. "Merely out of curiosity, professor, I should like to know -what evidence you have against me." - -"That is easy," said Bocaros promptly. "You were not at the theatre -till after nine, and Flora was killed before then. The money you -wanted very badly. I heard about the stage dagger from Mrs. Fane's -maid, and I know you used it, and----" - -"Wait," said Arnold quickly. "All these things I can disprove by an -_alibi_. I was at my rooms till nearly half-past nine, as my landlady, -Mrs. Varney, can prove. I then went down and finished acting the part, -when Hart was unexpectedly taken ill." - -"But you were at the house," said Bocaros savagely. "Yes; later. But -Mrs. Brand was murdered before nine by your own showing, professor, so -you can prove nothing against me." - -"I can make your doings on that night public," said the other, feeling -the money slipping away from him. - -"Hardly, unless you want to find yourself in a very unpleasant -position, my good man." - -"What do you mean?" - -"I mean that Mrs. Brand left a diary behind her, which was discovered -by me and Mr. Tracey. In it, she relates your visits to her--and you -paid more than two, professor." - -"What if I did visit her?" said Bocaros, the perspiration rising on -his forehead. "She was my cousin, and----" - -"And you had every right to do so. Quite so. But had you a right to -tell her about Fane?" - -"Fane?" stammered the Greek, completely taken aback. - -"Yes. You knew before July that Fane and Brand were one and the same." - -"I did not--I did not." - -"I guess you did," said Tracey; "see here, professor, what's the use -of slinging lies? I guess we've got the bulge on you this trip. Mrs. -B.'s diary gave away the whole thing, and now we have come to ask what -you were doing in the house on the night of the murder?" - -"Or, to put it plainly," said Arnold quietly, "why you killed Flora?" - -Bocaros, as Fane had done before him, leaped to his feet. "I did not -kill the woman! I swear I did not." - -"Fane said the same thing." - -"But Fane did. He was in the house." - -"How do you know that?" asked Luther; and Bocaros, seeing he had gone -too far, was silent. "I reckon," went on the American, "that this is -what the law calls a conspiracy. You've been building up card-castles -to get that money, and they've tumbled. Now it's our turn to threaten -to make things public, professor, and if you don't speak out you will -be arrested." - -"I arrested!" gasped Bocaros, stepping back a pace. - -"Yes--for murder," said Arnold solemnly. - -"I did not kill her." - -"We have yet to be sure that you did not. At all events, you wrote -letters to me and to Miss Mason, so that you might bring us to the -house on that night, so as to implicate us in the matter. It was very -clever, Bocaros, and, but that I overslept myself on that night, I -would have been at Ajax Villa. Then, I grant you, my position would -have been awkward, seeing I inherit the money. As it is I can prove -that I had nothing to do with the matter. If you did not kill the -woman, who did?" - -"Fane," said Bocaros, with dry lips. "Yes, Fane came up from Southend, -and Fane struck the blow to rid himself of an encumbrance." - -"He says he didn't," said Tracey; "we've put him through his paces, -and, although he's a mean white, I guess he's not a murderer. How did -you know he came up from Southend? Did you write the letter to lure -him there also?" - -"No; Flora wrote it herself." - -"Under your direction?" - -"I shan't say." - -"You'll have to say," said Arnold quickly; "we will have you arrested -otherwise. What has become of the locket Mrs. Baldwin gave you?" - -Bocaros looked up doggedly. "She gave me no locket." - -"She did," insisted Calvert. "A small round locket, with her -photograph inside. You wore it on your watch-chain; and when Flora was -struck, she turned round and tore it off in her death-agony. It was -found in her clenched hand by Fane." - -"I never had any locket," said Bocaros, with dry lips. "I am -innocent." - -"You'll find that hard to prove. However, both myself and Tracey are -willing to give you a hearing." - -"What will you do if I confess?" - -"I will send you out of the country." - -"I guess that's so. We don't want your sort dumped here," said Tracey. - -"Will you give me money, so that I may not starve?" said Bocaros, -taking no notice of this speech, and addressing himself to Arnold. - -"I don't think you deserve a penny, seeing how you proposed to -blackmail me. However, if you can prove your innocence, and can tell -us who is the real criminal, I will help you." - -"I don't know who killed Flora, unless it was Fane." - -"Well then, Fane didn't," said Luther sharply. "Now, fire ahead and -reel out your yarn. No lies, mind, or there'll be trouble." - -"Sir," said Bocaros, with a dignity which never deserted him -throughout this very trying interview, "you forget I am a nobleman." - -"I know. They sell your sort at a penny a bunch abroad," retorted -Tracey. "Go on. Talk away. I want to hear of this conspiracy." - -"There is no conspiracy," protested Bocaros. "I merely wished to get -back my own." - -"Ah, you look upon the ten thousand a year as your own," said Arnold; -"may I ask how you make that out?" - -"Flora left the money to me." - -"She did, and changed her mind. How did you induce her to make a will -in your favour?" - -"It was her own good heart." - -"Rubbish!" said Arnold roughly; "if you tell lies, professor, I won't -help you. Come--the truth now." - -Bocaros meditated. He wanted money badly, and if he went abroad--and -Calvert had the power to force him to take such a course--he would -certainly starve. The school, small as the salary was, kept him alive; -but even this slender means of subsistence would be taken from him -should he be banished from England. And by the stern faces of the two -men, he saw very well that he would be judged with justice. He -therefore made up his mind to earn the money by telling the truth. -Anything was better than starvation, even loss of dignity. But for all -that, and although he was fallen from his high estate, Bocaros kept up -a dignified appearance, and spoke in his best style. - -"I met my cousin, as I told you before," he said, "and I frequently -went to see her." - -"Why did you say you only paid three visits?" asked Calvert. - -"For obvious reasons," said Tracey; "he wanted to keep his cards under -the table." - -"I don't know what you mean," said the professor quietly; "but I admit -that I did not wish you to learn the part I had taken in this matter. -I visited my cousin frequently. I saw a portrait of her husband, and -recognised Mr. Fane." - -"Where did you see him?" - -"One day--no, on two occasions, I saw him walking with Miss Mason. I -asked who he was. She told me her brother-in-law. When I saw Fane -while calling on Mrs. Fane the other day I remembered his face again. -But for the moment I forgot where I had seen him." - -"Come now," cried Luther, "you couldn't forget a face like -that--especially the face of a man whom you were trying to ruin." - -"Bocaros put his hand to his head. My brain is not very clear at -times," he faltered. "I often think I will take leave of my senses. I -assure you, gentlemen, that I forgot where I had seen Mr. Fane when we -came face to face the other day." - -"Well, it doesn't matter," said Tracey, seeing that the man spoke -truly; "go on, and tell us what you did." - -"I said nothing to Mrs. Brand for a time, although I knew that her -husband was married to another woman. She and her husband did not get -on well together, and I did not want to make them more unhappy. Then -she inherited the money, and before that Brand went presumably to -Australia." - -"He was here under the name of Fane," said Arnold. - -"He was. I saw him at times. Well, Flora got the money. I wanted some. -She talked of making a will in her husband's favour, for she still -loved him. I then hinted that he was married. She nearly went out of -her mind. I refused to tell her the truth until she made a will in my -favour. She did. And she treated me very badly," burst out Bocaros, -warm with the memory of his wrongs; "she changed the will after she -got the truth out of me. When I heard of her death, I quite thought -the money would come to me. Instead of that----" - -"It was a case of the biter bit," said Arnold. "I think Flora did -quite right. You had no right to levy blackmail." - -"It was not blackmail," said Bocaros indignantly, and really he seemed -to believe what he said. "I made her leave the money to me, and then I -told her the truth." - -"The whole truth?" - -"Not then. I did not wish her to make trouble at once. I told her that -her husband's real name was Fane, and that he had a wife and child. -But I did not say where the house was." - -"Well, what happened?" - -"Fane came back as Brand, saying he had changed his mind about going -to Australia. I advised Flora to take an impression of his latch-key, -so that she could prove the house was Fane's, by its opening the door. -She thought this a good idea. Also, she wished to get inside to see -the White Room about which I had told her. She took the impression -when Fane was asleep. I had the keys made." - -"How many?" asked Arnold quickly; "one was sent to me by you." - -"No; I did not send that. Three keys were made. One Flora kept -herself, and two she gave me. I used one to enter the house -myself----" - -"Oh, you acknowledge you were in the house?" - -"I do. I lost the other key." - -"Where?" demanded Arnold, looking keenly at the man who seemed to -speak in all good faith. - -Bocaros again looked bewildered. "I hardly know. I left it in this -room, and I never found it again." - -"Did you not send the key to me?" - -"No; I swear I did not." - -"Then who did?" - -"I can't say. The key was left here, and lost. I used the other." - -"H'm!" said Arnold, after a pause. "Go on, and tell us about your -doings on that night. We can talk of the missing key later. What -happened?" - -"I appointed to meet Mrs. Brand in the garden. She had the key, and so -had I. She told me that she had written asking her husband to come up. -She sent the letter to Ajax Villa, and thought it would be sent on. I -was annoyed at this." - -"Did she tell you this when you met?" - -"No; because we did not meet on that night." - -"How was that?" - -"I was kept till late at the school and could not get away. It was ten -o'clock before I left, as I could not get away earlier although I -pleaded an engagement. I thought Flora would enter the house and wait. -I arrived a few minutes after ten, and saw the light burning, I then -thought she was waiting. I entered with my own key, and went upstairs -to where the light was. It was the White Room. There I saw Flora -dead--stabbed under the left shoulder-blade. On seeing this I grew -afraid, and came away at once." - -"Oh!" said Arnold, after another pause; "so it was you Fane heard in -the house after ten o'clock?" - -"I was there after ten, and I went away early at half-past." - -"Who was with you?" asked Tracey; "Fane said there were two men." - -"I was alone," said Bocaros; "there was no one with me. All happened as -I say. I grew afraid, seeing that I was Flora's cousin, and that it -was I who had brought her to the house. Also, I had got the keys for -her, and she had made a will in my favour. I fancied if I were found I -would be arrested and hanged." - -"There was certainly enough evidence to hang you," said Calvert. "I -also was afraid when I found the body; I fled also. We all seemed to -have lost our heads." - -"I don't think you did, Calvert," said Tracey, "considering the slim -way you lured that policeman away. Well, professor, did you see any -one in the house?" - -"Not a soul. I was there only for a quarter of an hour or so." - -Luther nodded. "Yes; Fane said he heard you go out. But Fane fancied -there were two men." - -"I was alone," said the professor positively, and the others believed -him. He had no reason to tell lies, seeing the position in which he -was placed. His only chance of safety lay in telling the truth--the -exact truth, and he appeared to be doing so. - -"Now then," said Calvert, when he and Tracey had digested this -information, "what about the forged letters?" - -"I did not write them. Why should I?" - -"Well, you might have made up your mind to kill Flora, and then have -arranged for me to be lured there, so that I might be accused." - -"But I did not kill her; and had I written the letter to lure you, I -should not have sent one to Miss Mason also. I could not accuse her." - -"That's true enough," said Arnold perplexed; "so the key was lost in -this room. Have you many visitors, professor?" - -"Very few," said Bocaros, glancing at Tracey. "You often come," this -was to the American. - -"I do," assented that gentleman; "are you going to accuse me of taking -the key?" - -"The key has gone." - -"That is as much as to say I took it, and killed Mrs. Brand," said the -other, with a shrug; "but who else comes? That maid?" - -"She only paid me a visit after the murder." - -"Well, she can't be guilty. Who else?" - -Bocaros reluctantly admitted that Mrs. Baldwin sometimes came. - -On hearing this, Tracey looked disturbed. "Can she have taken the -key?" - -"Nonsense!" said Arnold decisively--"a fat, lazy woman like that? -Besides, the person who had the key would write the letters, seeing -that the key came in one. Why should Mrs. Baldwin desire to get me and -Laura into trouble?" - -"I don't know," murmured Tracey anxiously, and recalling Mrs. -Baldwin's behaviour at the Hampstead cottage. "She's a queer fish. -Then that locket with her picture----" - -"I have seen Mrs. Baldwin with such a locket," said Bocaros. - -"Oh, you have." Tracey, much alarmed, looked at Calvert. "I say, you -don't think she killed Mrs. Brand?" - -Grave as the situation was, Calvert smiled at the idea of Mrs. -Baldwin in the character of Lady Macbeth. "I would as soon think of my -having done it myself," he declared. "There is some mystery about all -this. Can you solve it, professor?" - -"No," said Bocaros. "I have told you all. What will you do?" - -"Interview Mrs. Baldwin, and ask her about the locket," said Arnold, -rising. "By the way, I must see Jasher. He may have made some -discovery." - -"He will be here this evening," said Bocaros. "I have written to him." - -Tracey tapped his coat. "I have the letter, and will post it. In fact, -now I have his address, I will send a wire." - -"But how dare you take my letters?" - -"Go slow, professor. I'm running this show now. We'll come here to -meet Jasher this evening, and thresh out the matter. You take it lying -down, or you won't get any money. And now, Arnold Calvert, Esquire?" - -"We will see Mrs. Baldwin about the locket," said Arnold. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -THE TRUTH - - -Mrs. Baldwin had been much disturbed since the appearance of her -husband. In her secret soul she dreaded the return of the man who had -treated her so badly. All these years she had kept her fears to -herself, but sometimes she suffered agonies. For some time these had -grown less keen, as Rufus not appearing she fancied he must be dead. -But the head of Rufus had been seen at the window: she had distinctly -seen his face, and she knew she was no longer safe. He could not touch -her money which was safely tied up, nor could he deal with the land -she owned. But he had a way of terrorising her which would make her -give him whatever he wanted. He would spend the money, treat his -children badly, leave her next door to a pauper, and on the whole make -things as unpleasant as he knew how. - -There is nothing makes a man bolder than fear. This is paradoxical but -true. Under the influence of supreme fear, the most cowardly person -will become brave to rid himself of the cause of terror. Balzac -acutely observes that "The rebellion of a sheep is terrible," and in -this way Mrs. Baldwin felt. She was a timid woman in reality and had -given in to the will of the brute she had unfortunately married. When -he went away--not being able to get more money out of her--she -breathed freely. But now that there was a chance of his coming into -her life again, Mrs. Baldwin felt all her old terrors revive. But she -determined if he did come she would kill him. To this extent had her -fear driven her. She was scared to death, and therefore was the more -dangerous. - -Had she been wise, she would have seen her lawyers and told them -everything. As Rufus had deserted her for so many years, the law would -put things right for her. As he had treated her with brutality her -evidence would enable the law to arrange matters so that she would no -longer live in a state of terrorism. She could get a separation, even -a divorce. But Mrs. Baldwin was not wise. She was a slow-thinking -woman, and the mere presence of the man terrified. If he came to rule -her again, she would not have the will to go to her lawyers and tell -the truth. She therefore took matters into her own hands and bought a -pistol which she kept under her bed-pillow in the night and under the -sofa-pillow in the day. She made up her mind that if he came secretly -to the house, as he had done, and would likely do again, she would -shoot him. She would give the man no chance of exerting his influence -over her. But of all this she said nothing, not even to Gerty, who -could not understand why her mother grew thinner and more silent. -Instead of reading and eating Turkish-delight as usual, Mrs. Baldwin -wandered about the house feeling every now and then for the weapon in -her pocket which she always took when she left the sofa. - -"I'm all right, dear," said Mrs. Baldwin fretfully when Gerty made -remarks; "I have a little worry, but it will pass away." - -Things were in this state when Tracey arrived in the company of -Arnold. The two entered the room, being introduced by one of the -twins. Gerty was away teaching an old gentleman to manage a motor-car, -and Mrs. Baldwin was alone. As usual she was lying on the sofa, but no -longer reading or eating sweets. She lay there a shapeless mass in her -tawdry tea-gown staring at the roof. When Tracey entered she started -and thrust her hand under the pillow. But when she saw it was merely -her future son-in-law she sank back with a smile. However, the sudden -start made her face white, and Tracey noted it. - -"You haven't been troubled by Rufus, have you?" he asked. - -"No," said Mrs. Baldwin, with a faint smile, "he has never been near -me since. When he does come," her eyes gleamed, "I am ready for him--I -am no longer the timid weak woman I was. How are you, Mr. Calvert?" - -"Very well, Mrs. Baldwin. You do not look well." - -"I have trouble. We all have our troubles." - -"Say," observed Tracey, "I've brought Calvert here to ask a question -about a piece of jewellery of yours." - -Mrs. Baldwin sat up. "My diamond necklace," she cried, "where is it?" - -Arnold looked puzzled and Tracey held his tongue. "I know nothing -about a diamond necklace," said Calvert; "this is what I wish you to -see----" As he spoke he extended his hand in the palm of which lay the -round locket of pale gold which Fane had produced. Arnold did not get -a chance of finishing his sentence, for the moment Mrs. Baldwin set -eyes on the unpretending piece of jewellery she gave a loud cry, -opened her eyes, and sitting up grasped Calvert by the arm: - -"Where is he?" she asked; "is he outside? If he is----" she released -Arnold and pulled out the pistol. - -"What do you mean?" asked Calvert, drawing back. - -"I guess I know," said Tracey, recalling the previous interview; "this -locket belongs to Rufus." - -"Yes it does," admitted Mrs. Baldwin, casting apprehensive glances at -the door and window, and still grasping the pistol; "where is he?" - -"Not here," said Tracey, and strove to take the pistol away. But Mrs. -Baldwin resisted. - -"He will come," she said, "and I must be ready," and with that she -replaced the pistol under the pillow. - -"What does she mean?" asked Calvert in a whisper. - -"Never mind," returned the American much discomposed, "ask her about -the locket. She's queer, that's all." - -"The locket--the locket," murmured Mrs. Baldwin, beginning to weep; "I -gave it to Rufus when I thought he wasn't a brute. My portrait is in -it. I was a young girl----" - -"Will you look at it?" said Calvert, passing the locket. - -Mrs. Baldwin shrank back as though she had been asked to handle a -snake. "No, I dare not. He has worn it. Did he give it to you; or," -she asked vindictively, "was it taken from his dead body?" - -"It was taken from a dead hand." - -"From the hand of Rufus. Is he dead? Am I free? Oh, great heavens, am -I free?" and Mrs. Baldwin clapped her hands hysterically. - -"No. It was taken from the hands of the woman who was killed at Ajax -Villa. Evidently the man who wore it----" - -"Rufus," whispered Mrs. Baldwin---- - -"Had a struggle with his victim. She might have seen the blow coming, -and putting out her hand to ward it off, must have clutched the locket -as it hung to the watch-chain." - -"Rufus wore it on his watch-chain," said Mrs. Baldwin; "it is his -locket. I gave it to him. He is a burglar. Now he is a murderer. He -will come and kill me. Where's the pistol?" and she fumbled under the -sofa-pillow, grey with fear. - -"We don't know that he's a murderer yet," said Tracey soothingly; "you -go slow, ma'am." - -"I tell you if that locket was found in the dead woman's hand, Rufus -killed her," said Mrs. Baldwin, crushing her hands together. - -"What is Rufus like in looks?" asked Tracey. - -"Fat and red-faced, with grey hair. Always smiling--always smiling--a -kind-looking man--with a black heart. A criminal--a brute, a----" - -"Tracey," interrupted Arnold, rising, "she is describing Jasher." - -"That's so," said the American, without surprise; "ever since Bocaros -confessed that Jasher was his friend I have suspected. Well, now we -know at last who killed Mrs. Brand." - -"Another woman--another woman," moaned Mrs. Baldwin, "another victim." - -"It will be his last," said Tracey grimly; "thank God he's not Gerty's -poppa. I'm sorry for the children, though." - -Mrs. Baldwin rose. "They must never know--never!" - -"If Jasher, or Rufus as you call him, is caught he'll speak out, and -the whole business will come to light," said Tracey. - -"I don't know about that," said Arnold, with a troubled look; "let us -see what we can do. Perhaps Jasher may be innocent." - -"If there was murder to be done he did it," said Mrs. Baldwin, in a -sharp manner; "do what you like, but keep the man out of my life. I'm -dangerous. Quite as dangerous as he is." - -"It's all right. You say nothing," said Tracey, and thereupon made -Mrs. Baldwin lie down. Then he sent Arnold to wait for him outside, -and soothed the woman. When he came out, he walked in silence to the -gate. "I've mailed that letter," he said, "and sent a wire also. You -bet Jasher, not suspecting anything wrong, will be at the little house -yonder to-night." - -"Will we get in the police?" - -"Not just yet," said Tracey hesitatingly; "you see, he's Gerty's -step-father after all. I guess we'll make him confess, and then chuck -him out of the country. I don't want him to be arrested." - -"We can't be sure of his guilt yet, either." - -"No. That's a fact. Bocaros is keeping something back." - -"What about Mrs. Baldwin?" - -"She's all right. I've got her quiet. So long as this man doesn't -cross her track she'll lie still. If he does----" - -"Well. What if he does?" - -"She'll drop him with that pistol of hers." - -"Nonsense. She can't shoot!" - -"She'll get the bullet into the heart of Jasher somehow, if he is her -husband, as seems likely. The woman is mad with fear, and she'll get -him out of her life somehow. I say, Calvert, don't say anything to any -one of the rubbish she talks." - -"No I won't--not if she shoots Jasher. And if he's the murderer, it -would be about the best thing that could happen. For the sake of Mrs. -Fane and the child, for Laura's sake, I want things hushed up." - -"Same here," assented Tracey, "for the sake of Gerty and the kids. And -for Momma Baldwin's sake also," he added; "I'm real sorry for her. -She's a good sort, and will sleep better when Jasher's caught." - -"But, I say, Tracey, why should Jasher have killed Flora Brand?" - -"Can't say, unless it has to do with the money. But you go slow, we'll -get at the truth this night." - -Nothing more was said at the time, and with Luther, Calvert drove back -to town. The play had ceased to run, so his evenings were now his own. -He and the American had a meal in a Soho restaurant, but neither ate -very much. When the meal was ended Tracey proposed to start for the -professor's house at once. But Arnold, calling a cab, first drove to -his lodgings. When there he produced two Derringers, and giving one to -Tracey, put the other into his pocket. - -"But what's this for?" asked Tracey. - -"I think there's going to be a row," said Arnold, leading the way -downstairs. "Jasher will show fight if he is the villain Mrs. Baldwin -makes him out to be. Then there's Bocaros. I do not trust Bocaros." - -"Oh, he's all right," said Luther, as they entered a hansom; "he's on -the money tack, and so long as you give him the dollars he'll make it -hot for Jasher." - -"Do you think Bocaros knows the truth?" - -"I'm sure of it. He only told so much as he was obliged to this -afternoon. A deep cuss is the professor. I say, it's raining!" - -"Worse," said Arnold, drawing up the collar of his coat, "a mist is -coming on. We'll get lost in those fields." - -"Don't mind, so long as Jasher don't get lost." - -The cab drove on. The fog was not very thick in town, but as they -neared Troy it became more dense. By the time they turned down -Achilles Avenue a dense white pall lay over the earth, and the air was -as cold as a December day. The cabman professed his inability to drive -them further. On hearing this Tracey hopped out, followed by Calvert. -"It's just as well," said the latter; "we don't want to make the thing -too public." - -He paid the cabman lavishly, and then the two men set off down the -side-road which ran through the ancient village of Cloverhead. They -passed along the lane which led to the stile on the verge of the -fields, and at the back of the manor saw a light on the ground floor. -"Mrs. Baldwin's bedroom," said Tracey as they jumped the stile; "she's -in bed early--it's just eight o'clock. I guess her nerves have given -way." - -"I wonder she isn't afraid to sleep on the ground floor," said Arnold. - -"Oh, she's only lost her nerve lately. She didn't mind before. I guess -she'll change her bedroom soon and get up to the garret. Say, what a -fog." - -It was indeed a thick white fog, and to make things more uncomfortable -it was raining steadily. The low-lying meadows underfoot were slushy, -muddy, and slippery. The two men toiled through the dense curtain of -mist more by instinct than by sight. Tracey knew the path to the -little house well, as he had often passed over the fields to see -Bocaros. By the feel of their boots they managed to keep to the -somewhat irregular path which ran from the stile, and so by devious -ways they succeeded in making their way across the waste. At last they -came to gorse bushes looming out of the fog, and beyond this was a dim -yellow light. - -"I guess the professor hasn't disappointed us," said Tracey, as they -felt their way to the door; "he's in there." - -"Alone, probably," said Calvert. - -Tracey shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe. It's not the night to tempt a -cat out let alone a comfortable scoundrel like Jasher, who hates, I -bet, to get his feet wet. But the business is urgent, else Bocaros -would not send for him, so fog or no fog, he's there." - -"But Tracey was wrong. When they entered the warm study and took off -their coats they formed a trio with the professor. He explained that -Jasher had not arrived. Then they sat down and talked over the matter. -The Greek had by this time turned King's evidence to save his own -skin, and to get money out of Calvert. - -"But you didn't tell us everything this afternoon?" said Arnold. - -"What else there is to be told will be explained when Jasher is here," -replied the Greek grimly; "it won't be pleasant for him." - -"Guess there's no honour amongst thieves," muttered Tracey, toasting -his steaming feet. "Say, professor," he added aloud, "why do you call -that low-down cuss Jasher?" - -"Has he another name?" asked Bocaros. - -"He's bad enough to have a dozen names," growled Tracey, who did not -intend to give away Mrs. Baldwin's secret, for Bocaros was just the -man to make capital out of it. He had only made a tentative attempt to -see if Bocaros knew anything of the matter. Apparently he did not, and -to him Jasher was simply the private inquiry-agent he represented -himself to be. - -While they were thus talking a soft knock came to the window. The -Greek put his finger to his lips and nodded silently. Evidently this -was Jasher's private signal. When Bocaros left the room to admit his -confederate--for Jasher was nothing more and nothing less--the young -men felt for their revolvers. It was not likely that Jasher would give -in without a struggle, and a show of force might be necessary. -Arnold's heart thrilled at the coming fight, and Tracey's eyes -glittered. "It might be a clearing out West," he whispered Calvert, -"with judge Lynch holding his court." - -Jasher, round and ruddy and as complacent as ever, entered in the -wake of Bocaros. He had no idea that the Greek had betrayed him, for -he shook hands--he insisted on shaking hands--with much gusto. "I am -glad you are here, Mr. Calvert," said he, sitting down. "I have much -to say. But what brings you to this quarter?" - -"We have made a few discoveries ourselves," said Calvert, "and we came -to talk them over with the professor." - -"Why, the professor knows nothing," said Jasher, still quite -unsuspicious. "Let me hear what you have found out." - -"On the contrary, I should like to hear of your discoveries." - -"Well," said Jasher, gazing into the fire, "it seems to me that Fane -committed the crime. He came up from Southend, and he was at the villa -on that night. I've an idea he knew this woman." - -"What was she to him?" asked Arnold calmly. - -"I have heard it said she was his wife." - -"Why don't you say straight out what you know?" broke in Tracey; "I -guess you knew the truth from Bocaros." - -"Bocaros!" Jasher, with sudden suspicion, leaped to his feet, and his -little eyes glittered. "What's that?" - -"This much," said the Greek, also rising, "I have told these gentlemen -all I know. Ah----" - -"No you don't," said Tracey, catching Jasher as he hurled himself -forward. "Go slow." - -Jasher tried to recover his calm. "This is some joke, gentlemen," he -said, wiping his face and looking at the watchful faces before him. -"What does Professor Bocaros know?" - -"He knows," said the Greek, keeping well behind Calvert, "that it was -you who suggested the idea of getting Mrs. Brand to make the will in -my favour. It was you who put me up to getting the key stolen and -duplicated. It was you who wrote those letters luring Mr. Calvert and -Miss Mason to the villa so that you might put the blame on them. I -never knew you meant murder, Jasher," said Bocaros, stepping forward, -"or I should not have joined with you." - -"This is all lies," said Jasher faintly. - -"It is true. And it was arranged when we found that the woman was dead -that I should engage you as a detective so that you might be able to -manipulate the case at your will. Owing to the change which Mrs. Brand -made in her will, Calvert stood in my way and in yours. It was then -that you proposed to fix the guilt of the murder on him." - -"And had I not overslept myself," said Calvert, his eyes on Jasher, "I -should have fallen into your trap." - -"Let me out of this," said the detected scoundrel, and made a dash for -the door. He was met by Tracey, revolver in hand. With an oath he -slipped round his hand for his own weapon. - -"Hold up your hands or I shoot!" said the Yankee. "Now get back to -your seat and tell the truth if it's in you." - -Sullenly and with all his surface good-nature gone, Jasher, with his -hands held over his head, sat down. "It's a lie--a lie!" he said -vehemently, finding his voice in the extremity of his danger. "Bocaros -lured the woman to the villa. I came later--a few minutes after ten. I -was admitted by him." - -"That's a lie!" said Bocaros. "You told me you let yourself in with the -key of Mrs. Brand." - -"I didn't. I was not at the villa till after ten--the woman was killed -before. I found you standing by the dead body. You killed her." - -"I did not. From the fact that you had the key to enter, I guessed you -must have seen Mrs. Brand earlier. You met her, I swear--not I. It was -you who stabbed her, and with the dagger which she brought with her to -threaten Fane. You arranged all these plans so that you could lay the -blame on others. If I did not pay up, you arranged--as you told me--to -hunt me down in your character of detective. It was you who killed the -woman to get control of the money." - -Jasher had kept his eyes steadily on the face of the professor. When -the man finished, he flung up his hands with a wild cry and pointed to -the window. "Look! Look! A face!" he shrieked. - -The others involuntarily turned. In a moment Jasher whipped out his -revolver and dashed out of the door. As he passed Bocaros he fired, -and the Greek fell to the floor. "Judas! Judas!" cried the other man, -and fled into the darkness. - -Calvert remained behind to attend to the wounded man, but Tracey, -whose blood was up because of the stratagem of which he had been the -victim, dashed after Jasher, revolver in hand. He plunged into the -cold mist, running wildly. His foot caught in the stump of a tree, and -he fell at full length. In the blinding fog it was useless to attempt -pursuit, but Jasher, without coat and hat, could not run far without -being questioned by a policeman. The recent crime in Troy had made the -police wary, and Jasher would certainly be detained. With this idea, -Tracey rose and limped back to the house. - -Meanwhile Jasher, who knew the ground well, turned to the left and ran -across the meadow. He slipped his weapon into his pocket, and raced -hard through the mist. By chance he came against the fence at the back -of the manor-house, and saw above the yellow light of Mrs. Baldwin's -bedroom. Jasher knew that she slept there, as for reasons of his own -he had made himself acquainted with all that went on in the house. He -had heard that his wife was rich because of the rise of land, and had -intended to come back with an apology for having taken the diamond -necklace. But the chance offered by the murder of Mrs. Brand to get a -large sum of money out of Bocaros proved too tempting, and thus Jasher -had remained away. Now that he was a fugitive and with--so far as he -knew--Calvert and Tracey on his track, he thought he would take refuge -with the wife he had treated so badly. He also knew that without hat -and coat he would be stopped by the police, and when he dashed out of -the professor's house it was his intention to make for the abode of -his wife. - -After listening intently and hearing nothing but the steady rain, -Jasher, cursing his bad luck, climbed over the fence. He walked up the -lawn and mounted the terrace which ran before the windows of Mrs. -Baldwin's bedroom. At the middle window he knocked softly. He heard a -cry within, and applying his eyes to a hole in the blind, he saw that -his wife was alone, reading in bed. She had half-started up, and had -her hand under the pillow. - -"Who is there?" asked Mrs. Baldwin sharply. - -"Maria. It's me--Rufus. Let me in. I am in danger!" - -"Never! Never! Go away, or I'll alarm the house." - -"Jasher pleaded, and swore, and did all he knew to make her alter her -decision. But she would not. He was drenched by the rain, shivering, -and hatless. The bloodhounds were on his track. He lost his head, and -with a furious oath dashed his whole weight against the window. The -frail structure broke inward, and, half blinded, he burst through the -curtain. As in a dream he saw his wife wild with terror start from the -bed. She raised her hand, and the next moment there came a stunning -report. With a yell Jasher threw up his hands and fell. Mrs. Baldwin's -shrieks aroused her daughter, the children, and the servants. They -rushed into the room, and found the dead man and the frantic woman. - -"A burglar--a burglar cried Mrs. Baldwin. I've killed him." Then she -threw up her hands wildly. "Out of my life at last--out of my life!" - -The next moment she was lying senseless by the side of the husband she -had shot. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -THE WIND-UP - - -So this was the end of the case which so perplexed London and London's -police. But neither the police nor the public came to know the truth, -as will appear from a conversation held between Laura and her lover a -fortnight after the death of Jasher. As they were to be married, and -there were to be no secrets between them, Arnold told her the whole -truth, suppressing nothing. Laura wept. - -"O Arnold, how terrible it is for Julia! What will she do?" - -"She has already made up her mind what to do, and I think she has -taken the wisest course." - -"What is that?" - -"She will marry Walter Fane quietly and go abroad for a time. Then no -one will ever know the truth." - -"But it might come out in other ways." - -"No. I have taken care of that. Derrick, as you know, gave up the case -some weeks ago, as he could discover nothing. The only thing he is -doing now is watching the Hampstead house for the return of the dead -woman's husband. Of course your brother-in-law will never return -there, and so Derrick will grow weary." - -"But did not Jasher confess when he died?" - -"Only to me and Tracey, dear. When Mrs. Baldwin shot him under the -impression that he was a burglar, he did not die immediately. He was -taken to the hospital, but died a few days later. In the interval he -sent for me and Tracey, and knowing everything was ended for him, he -confessed." - -"Did he exonerate the professor?" - -"Arnold did not reply immediately to the question. He was thinking -what he should say. Finally he resolved to tell the truth. - -"The best thing, Laura, is to say what Jasher told us. We wrote it -down, and he signed it in our presence lest any one else should be -accused of the crime. I don't think any one will be, as the murder has -been relegated to obscurity. Still, it is best to be on the safe side. -I have the confession here. I will read it to you." - -Laura assenting eagerly, Arnold took a sheet or two of foolscap from -his pocket and read the confession. It ran as follows:-- - -"I, Rufus Baldwin, better known as John Jasher, Private Inquiry-Agent, -swear as follows, and take my dying oath that what is here set down is -true. - -"I met Professor Bocaros when I was haunting the place where my wife -lived. I got into his confidence, and used to come to his place and -talk to him. He never knew that I was Mrs. Baldwin's husband, as I did -not think it was necessary to trust him so far. He told me of his -difficulties, and of Mrs. Brand getting the fortune. One night he told -me how he had discovered that Brand and Fane were the same. I saw a -chance of making money. I told him to hint to Mrs. Brand that her -husband was deceiving her, and said that if we could bring them -together in Ajax Villa, we could make money out of the affair. Bocaros -never thought that murder was intended. He merely fancied that I would -come to the villa when the two were together and swear to expose the -matter to Mrs. Fane and have Fane prosecuted for bigamy if Mrs. Brand -did not pay a large sum. He therefore agreed to my plan. - -"Now, my idea was to get Mrs. Brand to make a will in favour of the -professor and then murder her, so that I might share the money with -him. Also to inveigle him to the villa, so that there might be a -chance through circumstantial evidence of proving him to be the guilty -person. In order to make things safe for myself in case there should -be trouble, I arranged in my own mind that Arnold Calvert, a cousin of -Mrs. Brand, and Miss Mason, the girl he was engaged to, should be at -the villa. Then, of course, Fane would be there. So I resolved that if -necessary the crime should be fixed on Mr. Calvert, on Fane, and on -Bocaros. Afterwards, had I thought fit, I could have brought home the -crime to Mrs. Fane in my character of detective. I was anxious to make -a lot of money and to return to the United States, the only place -worth living in, to my mind. - -"Bocaros, thinking I meant to act straight, did what I told him. He -got Mrs. Brand to take an impression of the latch-key belonging to -Fane when--as Brand--he slept in the Hampstead house. She did so, and -I got Bocaros to have three keys made--one for himself, one for Mrs. -Brand, and one extra. He gave one duplicate key to Mrs. Brand, and -kept the other. The third key he left in his room. One day I stole it, -and then when he asked denied that I had done so. This key I sent to -Calvert in the name of Miss Mason, and asked him to be at the villa at -half-past nine or thereabouts. I also sent a letter purporting to be -from Calvert to Miss Mason, asking her to be at the house at the same -hour. Then I got Bocaros to tell Mrs. Brand to write to her husband -asking him to come to Ajax Villa on the night of the twenty-fourth of -July. My plans were thus arranged to trap the lot, and I could have -added Mrs. Fane, as I found she followed her husband to town on that -same night. Had she not lost him at Liverpool Street Station, she -would have also been implicated in the matter. - -"All being thus arranged, I called for Mrs. Brand on the night in -question, and took her to the villa. Bocaros was to have met us, but -he, being detained at his school, was late. I entered into the villa -with Mrs. Brand, using the latch-key. No one saw us. We went to the -White Room, and I told her of her husband's villainy. I may here -mention that it was the professor who introduced me to Mrs. Brand as -the man who knew all about the matter. He did this at my request. I -had to manage the matter myself, as I intended murder, and the -professor was too squeamish. - -"I was in the White Room with Mrs. Brand. She was much disturbed over -the matter. Drawing a dagger she had in her pocket, she declared she -would kill Fane. I suppose she indulged in this theatrical attitude -because she was half a Greek and excitable. The dagger, as she said, -was one which had been bought by Mr. Calvert for stage purposes. He -left it in her house by mistake. I managed to calm Mrs. Brand, and -took the dagger from her. She sat at the piano. I came behind her, and -lifted my arm to strike. As the stiletto struck her she gave a cry and -turned desperately on me. She clutched at my watch-chain and tore -therefrom a locket I wore, which contained a portrait of my wife. I -did not discover my loss till afterwards. Then she died. I left her -there and went away. Afterwards Fane came and found her dead. He -concealed the dagger in the dustbin. While doing this Miss Mason came -to the door. Finding that Mr. Calvert was not there she went away. -Then the professor, being late, came. I had taken the key from the -body of the dead woman, and entered after him. There was no one -about. I went upstairs and found Bocaros looking at the dead. I -accused him of the deed. He denied it, and indeed was innocent. -However, it suited my purpose to accuse him, as it gave me more power. -I led him away. Afterwards Calvert came and went away, afraid lest he -should be accused. Fane finally escaped by using Tracey's motor-car. -So all were out of the house when the body was discovered by Mulligan. - -"These are the true facts of the case. Afterwards Bocaros, on his way -to see about the will, came to my office and engaged me to look after -the case. He did this at my desire, so that I could turn the evidence -as I chose. Then Bocaros found that Mrs. Brand had cheated him, and -had given the money to Calvert. Why she did so I do not know, unless -it was that she liked Calvert the best. However, the money being gone, -I wanted to get it. I therefore arranged that the blame of the crime -should fall on Calvert. He, quite unsuspicious of my ends, engaged me -to hunt down the assassin. I was hunting down him. Had he not -overslept himself he would have been at the villa at the time of the -commission of the crime, and I would have caught him in my net. Then I -would have made a lot of money. - -"As it was, Tracey's discovery of the diary led to the detection of -Fane, and Fane's confession led to the production of the locket which -Mrs. Brand held in her dead hand. Then Bocaros grew frightened and -told the truth. The result was that I was in danger of arrest, and, -with the locket, the crime would most certainly have been brought home -to me. - -"I sought shelter with my wife, but she shot me. She said she thought -I was a burglar. I suppose she did, and----" - -Here Laura interrupted the reading. "Surely Mrs. Baldwin did think he -was a burglar," she said indignantly. - -"Of course," said Arnold quickly; "for certain she did, Laura. Had she -known he was her husband, little as she loved him, she would not have -fired the shot. And you remember the jury brought in a verdict -exonerating Mrs. Baldwin." - -"I'm glad of that," said Laura thoughtfully. "Read on, dear." - -"There's no more," said Arnold, returning the confession to his -pocket. "I shall put this in the deed-box at Laing and Merry's, to be -used should occasion arise, though I don't think it ever will. So that -ends the whole matter. We can get married as soon as possible, Laura, -and thank heaven our troubles are over." - -While Laura and Arnold were thus talking in one room, Mrs. Fane was -having a conversation with her husband in another. Walter Fane, bowed -with shame, was half lying on the sofa, and Mrs. Fane was pacing the -room. He had just confessed all, and his wife's cheeks were crimson -with anger. - -"O you coward--you mean, pitiful coward!" she said fiercely, "how dare -you marry me, to bring me to this shame! I thought you were only a -fool. But you are a knave and worse than a knave. That poor creature's -death lies at your door." - -"I did not kill her," moaned Fane, burying his face in the cushions. - -"Not in fact, but otherwise you did. Had you not led this double life -the tragedy would never have happened." - -"Well, it has happened and everything's at an end," said Fane, sitting -up sullenly. "Calvert has stifled all inquiry. Nothing will ever be -known, unless you give the thing away." - -"What do you take me for?" cried Mrs. Fane, turning on him. "Do you -think I am going to pose as a disgraced woman with your friends and -mine? I made you confess something of this when you came back to -Southend. I shielded you in my interview with Bocaros, so that you -should not be suspected. But I never thought Mrs. Brand was your -wife--you liar!" - -"What's the use of calling names?" said Fane, still sulky. - -"None--none. I have a good mind to leave you for good and all." - -"Why don't you, then?" - -"Because, after all, you are my child's father. Besides, you are a -poor miserable creature, who can't look after yourself. I shall still -continue to be your wife. We must be married again quietly and go -abroad for a time, as was our original intention. Then we will come -back, and I shall get a farm down the country near London, so that I -can come up to look after the business. After this I shall manage the -whole business myself You will be a cipher." - -"I always have been," muttered Walter. - -"Well, that is arranged, so we need say nothing more about the matter. -Let us be friends. I don't love you--I can't respect you; but for the -child's sake let us be friends." - -"You'll only bully me," said Walter hopelessly. "No," said Mrs. Fane, -in a softer voice. "You poor creature, God forbid I should be hard on -you. I am a strong-minded woman, but I am not a tyrant. I will look -after you, since you are so weak, and do my best." - -"Thank you," said Walter, "you are very good." And he meant what he -said, for the woman's superior will and mind enforced respect. - -Mrs. Fane looked at him in silence; then--a rare thing with her--she -moved towards him and kissed him. "Let us talk no more about the -matter," she said. "The old life is ended--the new has begun. Let us -talk of other things." - -"The marriage of Calvert, for instance." - -"I owe Mr. Calvert an apology," said Mrs. Fane slowly. "I did not like -him, but he has behaved nobly. But for his discretion the whole affair -might have come out in the papers, to my lasting disgrace. I give my -consent to the marriage with all my heart, and I hope that Laura will -prove herself worthy of such a good man." - -So things were arranged in this quarter, and Walter Fane got off much -easier than he deserved, considering his behaviour. Mrs. Fane told -Arnold of her intentions, and then thanked him for his kindness. After -Laura's marriage, which took place in a couple of months, they became -the best of friends. - -And it was at the marriage that Mrs. Tracey appeared so beautiful in -the character of a bride. - -"She's a clipper, is Gerty T.," said the happy bridegroom. "I'm going -to take her to the States to show what a beauty she is. The business -is humming and the money pouring in, so off we go to the U.S.A." - -"I wish you joy with all my heart, Laura," said Gerty, embracing the -bride. "And Arnold's such a nice fellow, and you are so rich." - -"Yes, we are. We intend to take a place in the country, and be quiet -people. Arnold and I like a rural life." - -"I hear Mrs. and Mr. Fane have gone abroad." - -"Yes. They will be back in a few months, and then they will take a -place down the country also." - -"I suppose they couldn't stand the villa, after the tragedy?" - -"Who could? Since they left it no one has taken it, and the landlord -intends to pull it down to exorcise the ghost. How is your mother, -Gerty dear?" - -"Oh, she's happier than ever she has been. She seems to have grown -younger since she shot the burglar." - -And then the two brides went on to talk of other things. Meantime, -Luther Tracey drew aside Calvert into a corner. "Say," was his remark, -"I haven't seen you for a time since I've been away on my honeymoon. -What of the professor?" - -"Oh, he has gone back to Greece, quite recovered from his wound. I -allow him an income sufficient to keep him alive." - -"He shouldn't have had anything. You're too good." - -"He did act badly; but, after all, I don't think the poor creature is -quite sane. He is married also--yes--Mrs. Fane's maid, Emily Doon." - -"Hum!" said the American. "I guess he was sane enough to get a -handsome bride, though. I never trusted that girl. She had something -to do with the case." - -"Don't talk of the case," said Arnold, shuddering. "When I think how -near we all were getting into the most terrible trouble through that -scoundrel----No, he's dead, let us not call him names. His evil is -buried with him. But one thing, Tracey. Did Mrs. Baldwin really know -it was her husband she killed? I know she recognised him afterwards; -but when she fired did she know?" - -"Rufus said she did, but out of consideration for the children he had -the decency not to put that into the confession. I believe she knew -all the time, and is glad she killed him." - -"Does she ever allude to him?" - -"No. She's settled down to her old lazy life, eating sweets and -reading novels. I don't think she'll ever mention his name till her -dying day. And Gerty T. knows nothing about it. I hear Mrs. Baldwin's -going to sell her land and move further into town; but she never will. -When Gerty T. and I return from the States we'll find her in the old -shanty. By the way, she's pulled down the professor's house." - -"To get rid of all memories connected with the case, I suppose. Well, -I'm glad it's ended. It was terrible." - -"Arnold, are you coming?" - -This was from the bride. Afterwards the happy pair departed for a -honeymoon on the Continent, and discussed their future plans. "You -must let me furnish the house, dear," said Laura; "I have such taste." - -"You have; you chose me to be your husband. But don't have a White -Room." - -"I never will," said Laura. "Arnold, never mention that place again." - -And Arnold never did. So after all the trouble came the peace and -calm, and the two, happy in one another, soon forgot the terrible -case. The public also forgot it, and the White Room itself has -disappeared. - - - -THE END. - - - -------------------------------------------------------- -Printed by T. and A. 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Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/55101-0.zip b/old/55101-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 7670934..0000000 --- a/old/55101-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/55101-h.zip b/old/55101-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 712ada8..0000000 --- a/old/55101-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/55101-h/55101-h.htm b/old/55101-h/55101-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index d916eef..0000000 --- a/old/55101-h/55101-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10503 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> -<html> -<head> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> -<title>The White Room</title> - -<style type="text/css"> - -body {margin-left:10%; - margin-right:10%; background-color:#FFFFFF;} - - -p.normal {text-indent:.25in; text-align: justify;} - -p.right {text-align:right; margin-right:20%;} -p.center {text-align: center;} -p.continue {text-indent: 0in; margin-top:9pt;} - -h1,h2,h3,h4,h5 {text-align: center;} - -span.sc {font-variant: small-caps; font-size:110%;} - -hr.W10 {width:10%; color:black; margin-top:0pt; margin-bottom:0pt} - -hr.W20 {width:20%; color:black; margin-top:12pt; margin-bottom:12pt} - -hr.W50 {width:50%; color:black;} -hr.W90 {width:90%; color:black;} - -p.hang1 {margin-left:3em; text-indent:-3em;} -p.hang2 {margin-left:3em; text-indent:0em;} - -</style> - -</head> - -<body> - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The White Room, by Fergus Hume - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The White Room - -Author: Fergus Hume - -Release Date: July 12, 2017 [EBook #55101] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WHITE ROOM *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page images provided by -Google Books (The Pennsylvania State University Libraries) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<p class="hang1">Transcriber's Notes:<br> -1. Page Scan Source: Google Books<br> -https://books.google.com/books/about/<br> -The_White_Room.html?id=QN9PnQEACAAJ<br> -(The Pennsylvania State University Libraries)</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>Bell's Indian and Colonial Library</h3> -<hr class="W90"> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>THE WHITE ROOM</h3> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>THE WHITE ROOM</h3> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h5>BY</h5> -<h4>FERGUS HUME</h4> - -<h5>AUTHOR of "THE MYSTERY OF A HANSOM CAB," "THE PICCADILLY PUZZLE," -"WHOM GOD HATH JOINED," "THE VANISHING OF TERA," -"THE GUILTY HOUSE," ETC. ETC. ETC.</h5> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>LONDON<br> -GEORGE BELL & SONS<br> -1904</h4> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<p class="center"><i>This Edition is issued for circulation in India and the Colonies -only</i>.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<table cellpadding="10" style="width:90%; margin-left:5%; font-weight:bold"> -<colgroup><col style="width:20%; vertical-align:top; text-align:right"><col style="width:80%; vertical-align:top; text-align:left"></colgroup> -<tr> -<td colspan="2"><h3>CONTENTS</h3></td> -</tr><tr> -<td>CHAPTER</td> -<td> </td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_01" href="#div1_01">I.</a></td> -<td>THE POLICEMAN'S DISCOVERY</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_02" href="#div1_02">II.</a></td> -<td>ANOTHER MYSTERY</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_03" href="#div1_03">III.</a></td> -<td>THE BALDWINS</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_04" href="#div1_04">IV.</a></td> -<td>THE MISSING MOTOR-CAR</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_05" href="#div1_05">V.</a></td> -<td>PUBLIC OPINION</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_06" href="#div1_06">VI.</a></td> -<td>A STRANGE DISCOVERY</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_07" href="#div1_07">VII.</a></td> -<td>THE OTHER WHITE ROOM</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_08" href="#div1_08">VIII.</a></td> -<td>PROFESSOR BOCAROS</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_09" href="#div1_09">IX.</a></td> -<td>MRS. BRAND'S WILL</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_10" href="#div1_10">X.</a></td> -<td>WHAT THE COOK FOUND</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_11" href="#div1_11">XI.</a></td> -<td>THE INQUIRY-AGENT</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_12" href="#div1_12">XII.</a></td> -<td>ARNOLD AND LAURA</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_13" href="#div1_13">XIII.</a></td> -<td>ON THE TRACK</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_14" href="#div1_14">XIV.</a></td> -<td>THE NEW TENANT</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_15" href="#div1_15">XV.</a></td> -<td>THE PROFESSOR'S COURTING</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_16" href="#div1_16">XVI.</a></td> -<td>A SURPRISE</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_17" href="#div1_17">XVII.</a></td> -<td>THE PROFESSOR'S TRUMP CARD</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_18" href="#div1_18">XVIII.</a></td> -<td>A STORY OF THE PAST</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_19" href="#div1_19">XIX.</a></td> -<td>STILL A MYSTERY</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_20" href="#div1_20">XX.</a></td> -<td>THE HOUSE IN THE FIELDS</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_21" href="#div1_21">XXI.</a></td> -<td>THE TRUTH</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_22" href="#div1_22">XXII.</a></td> -<td>THE WIND-UP</td> -</tr></table> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>THE WHITE ROOM</h3> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>THE WHITE ROOM</h3> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER I</h4> - -<h5><a name="div1_01" href="#div1Ref_01">THE POLICEMAN'S DISCOVERY</a></h5> -<br> - -<p>"Eleven o'clock and a windy night!" might have been the cry of a -mediæval watchman at that hour on the 24th July 19--. Constable -Mulligan was more reticent, as it formed no part of his duties to -intimate publicly the time or the state of the weather. Nevertheless -the bells of the Anglican Church, Troy, London, S.W., chimed the hour -through the clamour of a high wind; and those people who were not in -bed must have decided to retire. Not that any one appeared to be -stirring. The lights were extinguished in all windows within the range -of Mulligan's vision, and the flashing of his lantern on the doors and -gates in Achilles Avenue showed that they were discreetly closed. Not -even a tramp or a cat enlivened the roadway. Mulligan was apparently -the sole waking person in a sleeping world.</p> - -<p>Troy was a bran-new suburb, built by a jerry-builder, who knew -Greek history through the medium of Lempriere's Dictionary. This -pseudo-scholar had erected classic villas with classic names in roads, -avenues, and streets designated by Hellenic appellations. The rents in -this anachronistic suburb were rather high, and the houses were -inhabited mostly by stockbrokers, prosperous or not, according to -their wits or the state of the money-market. There was also a -sprinkling of schoolmasters, professors, and students, attracted by -the phraseology of the place, which promised cultured surroundings. -The drainage was perfect and the morals were unexceptional So new was -the suburb, that not even a slum had been evolved to mar its -cleanliness. The police, having little to do in so genteel a -neighbourhood, were individually and collectively more for ornament -than use. The ten years' history of the locality was one of order, -intense respectability, and consequent dulness. Only in a rogues' -purlieus is life picturesque and exciting.</p> - -<p>Mulligan was a black-haired giant, somewhat dull, but possessed of a -dogged sense of duty, eminently useful when taken in conjunction with -brute force. He paced his beat in a ruminative frame of mind, -thinking, not unpleasantly, of a certain pretty housemaid, with whom -he intended to walk out on Sunday. Being as talkative as Bunyan's -character of that name, Mulligan would not have been displeased to -meet a brother-officer, or even a stray reveller, with whom to -converse. But his fellows were in other neighbourhoods, and revellers -were unknown in the respectable streets of Troy; so Mulligan, for the -sake of hearing his own voice, hummed a little song in a deep bass -growl. He passed Hector Villa, Agamemnon Villa, Paris Villa, and Priam -Villa, all of which were in darkness, enshrined in leafy gardens. At -the gate of Ajax Villa he halted. A light in a first-floor window over -the classic porch showed that the inmates had not yet retired. Also a -woman was singing. Constable Mulligan, being fond of music, waited to -hear the song.</p> - -<p>"Kathleen Mavourneen;" thought he, recognising the melody, "and a fine -pipe she has who sings it. It's a party they'll be having within, with -the tongues clapping and the whisky flowing. Begorra, it's myself -that's wishing I had some of that same," and he wiped his mouth with a -longing air.</p> - -<p>As he stood at the gate, looking up the wide path which ran straightly -to the shallow steps of the porch through a short avenue of elms in -full leaf, he became aware that some one was coming out of the front -door. The constable put it to himself in this way, as he heard the -sound of opening and shutting, but no stream of light, as he expected, -poured from the hall. With such darkness there could scarcely be a -party in progress. Also--as Mulligan's quick ears detected--the door -was opened with unusual caution and closed with equal care. The person -who had emerged--whether it was a man or a woman the policeman could -not guess--hesitated on the steps for a few minutes. Apparently the -officer's form bulked blackly against the light of the opposite -street-lamp, and the stranger was undecided whether to re-enter the -house, or to come down the path. Mulligan was too dense to be -suspicious, and merely wondered why the person in question did not -fulfil his or her original intention. Meanwhile the song flowed an -smoothly, and Mulligan half unconsciously noted that although the -words were sung slowly, the piano music between each verse was played -hurriedly.</p> - -<p>Finally, thinking that the stranger on the steps would not approve of -a policeman leaning on the gate, Mulligan turned away with the airy -grace of an elephant. Hardly had he taken a few steps when a young man -came quickly down the path with a light, springy step. In a pleasant -tenor voice he called to the constable. "Anything wrong, officer?" he -asked, and the gate clicked behind him as he uttered the words.</p> - -<p>Mulligan, halting under a street-lamp, saluted good-humouredly. "No, -sir," he declared. "I was just listening to your good lady singing."</p> - -<p>"My sister," corrected the man, also pausing under the lamp, but in -such a position that the light did not reveal his countenance. "You -ought to like that song, constable."</p> - -<p>"An' for why, sir?"</p> - -<p>"It's Irish, as you are."</p> - -<p>"Augh! An' is it me, sir, you'd be calling Irish?"</p> - -<p>"The way in which you turn that sentence would stamp your nationality, -even if the brogue didn't," retorted the young man, taking out a -silver cigarette-case. "You smoke, officer?"</p> - -<p>"Mostly a pipe, sir," rejoined Mulligan, accepting the little roll of -tobacco. "Is it a light you'll be wanting?"</p> - -<p>"Thanks," said the other, and bent down to ignite his cigarette at the -match provided by the policeman. But he still kept his face in shadow. -Not that Mulligan had any desire or reason to see it. He merely -thought that the gentleman was a departing guest, although he could -not account for the dark hall, which set aside the idea of a party. -Moreover, the stranger was arrayed in a light tweed suit, which was -not exactly appropriate for a party. Also he wore a loose overcoat of -bluish-black cloth, with a deep velvet collar and velvet cuffs made in -the latest fashion. On so warm a night, this garment was quite -unnecessary. Still, Mulligan had no reason to be suspicious, and was -the last man to be inquisitive. He had the politeness if not the keen -wit of the Celt.</p> - -<p>After lighting his cigarette the gentleman strolled away towards the -ancient village which formed the nucleus of modern Troy. Unwilling to -lose the chance of a pleasant conversation, and perhaps a kindly -shilling, Mulligan followed, and beside the light active form of his -companion looked like a bear lumbering in the company of an antelope. -The gentleman did not appear anxious to talk, so Mulligan made the -first remark.</p> - -<p>"The song's done," said he, as they walked on.</p> - -<p>"It isn't a long song," replied the other carelessly. "I dare say -she'll start another soon, and you can listen at the gate half the -night, if you have a mind to."</p> - -<p>"It's a party you'll be having then, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Party! No! Can't people sit up till midnight without having the house -full of dancers?"</p> - -<p>"Augh," grunted Mulligan; "there being no light in the hall, I might -have guessed there was no party."</p> - -<p>The other man started slightly and laughed uneasily. "My sister asked -me to turn out the light when I went," said he. "I did so before I -opened the door."</p> - -<p>"You'll be going home then, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Yes--to the other end of London. Is there a hansom about?"</p> - -<p>"Near the station, sir. That'll be half a mile away."</p> - -<p>"I know--I know," retorted the other quickly. "I often come here to -see my sister." He paused, then added anxiously: "I suppose you know -most of the people who live in these villas?"</p> - -<p>"None, sir. I've only been on this beat a week."</p> - -<p>"You'll get to know them soon, I expect. A quiet place, officer."</p> - -<p>"It is that, sir," assented Mulligan, as they turned down a narrow and -lonely street. "Never a robbery or an accident or a murder to make -things happy."</p> - -<p>"Why should there be a murder?" asked the man angrily. "Murders are -not so common."</p> - -<p>"More common than you think, sir, but the most of them aren't found -out. It is I who'd like a really fine crime with my name in the -papers, and a printed recommendation as an efficient officer. None of -your poker murders and plain sailing you'll understand, sir, but a -mystery, as you read of in them little books written by gentry as -don't know the law."</p> - -<p>"Ah! Incidents in detective novels rarely occur in real life," said -the other, with a more tranquil laugh. "Providence is too original to -borrow in that way. But live in hope, officer, a crime may come your -way sooner than you expect."</p> - -<p>"Not hereabouts, sir." Mulligan shook his head gloomily. "It's too -clean a neighbourhood."</p> - -<p>"The very place where a crime is likely to occur. Have you another -light, constable?"</p> - -<p>Mulligan struck another match, and this time he saw the face of the -speaker clearly. It was a handsome face, rather worried-looking. But -as the stranger wore a moustache and a small pointed beard, and as his -Homberg hat--it was grey with a black band--was pressed down over his -eyes, Mulligan could not determine if he were more than usually -worried. Not that he minded. He fancied after some reflection that -this handsome young gentleman was--as he put it--out on the spree, and -therefore took the marks of worry for those of dissipation. He did not -even examine the face closely, but when the match was extinguished he -halted. "There's the half-hour, sir. I must get back to my beat."</p> - -<p>"And I must race for a cab," said the stranger, pressing a half-crown -into a not unwilling hand. "Thanks for coming so far with me, officer. -I wonder if my watch is right," he added, pulling it out. "It's -half-past eleven." Something fell at the moment, chipped against the -curb with a tinkling sound, and rebounded into the road. "You've -dropped something, sir," said Mulligan, flashing his lantern towards -the middle of the street.</p> - -<p>The other felt his pockets. "No, I don't think so. Can you see -anything? Oh, no matter. I dare say--what can I have dropped?"</p> - -<p>The two searched for a time without success. At length the stranger -shook his head positively, and felt his pockets again. "You must be -mistaken," he remarked. "I don't think anything is missing. However, if -you do find anything, you can give it to me when you see me next. You -are usually on this beat?"</p> - -<p>"For the next three nights, sir."</p> - -<p>"Ah then, we are sure to meet. I often come here. Good night." And -with a wave of his hand the gentleman walked rapidly away. At the turn -of the street he looked back and again waved his hand. It might have -been that he was anxious to see if the constable was watching him. But -no such suspicion occurred to Mulligan. He was too pleased with the -half-crown.</p> - -<p>"A fine upstanding young gentleman," was the policeman's verdict; -"free with his money"--he here produced the cigarette--"and his -tobacco, good luck go with him."</p> - -<p>As the inspector was not within sight, and indeed would not be until -Mulligan returned to the fixed point in Achilles Avenue, the policeman -decided to solace himself with a smoke. After lighting up he threw -away the match. It fell almost in the middle of the road, and flamed -up brightly in a pause of the wind. Although it went out with the next -gust, Mulligan, in the short time, caught with his keen eye the -glitter of steel. Striking another match, he searched round, and -picked up a latch-key, long and slim and with scarcely projecting -wards. "He'll not get to his bed this night," said Mulligan, looking -towards the corner. "If I was to run after him now------"</p> - -<p>But this, he decided, was impossible. The gentleman, walking at an -unusually rapid pace, would be some distance away, and also in the -meantime he might have met with a hansom. Also Mulligan had to return -to the fixed point, as failure to meet his superior officer would meet -with a sharp reprimand. "Ah well," said the philosophic policeman, -"the young gentleman will be here to-morrow night, or maybe his sister -will be still up, and I can give the key to her."</p> - -<p>On the chance of securing another half-crown, Mulligan decided that -this latter course would be the more diplomatic. Astutely adopting it, -he walked smartly to Achilles Avenue. A consultation of his Waterbury -watch assured him that he had nearly twenty minutes to spare before -the arrival of the inspector. He therefore sought out Ajax Villa, -being guided thereto by the fact that the light was still burning on -the first floor. But he heard no singing. However, the light showed -that the lady was still in the room, though doubtless the servants--as -was shown plainly by the stranger's conversation--were in bed. -Mulligan walked up to the door and rang. With some foresight he argued -the lady would come herself to the door, whereby he would be more -certain of his money.</p> - -<p>The wind was dying down, now that it was close upon midnight, and -everything in the house and garden was absolutely still. Walking up -the path under the umbrageous shelter of the elms, Mulligan saw the -colours of the flowers in neutral tints under a faint starry sky. -There was no moon, but a kind of luminous twilight pervaded the -atmosphere. Mulligan, being a Celt, was not impervious to the charm of -the place which might have been Juliet's garden, so strangely had the -magic of night transmuted its commonplace into romance. But his -housemaid was expensive, and he hurried to the door, anxious to obtain -a reward for the return of the key.</p> - -<p>Several times did he ring, and although he heard the shrill vibration -of the bell echo through the house, no one appeared in answer to its -imperative summons. Thinking he might have made a mistake, the -constable stepped back into the garden. But he was right. This was the -villa out of which the young man had issued, for there burned the -guiding light on the first floor. Mulligan felt puzzled by the -inexplicable silence and rang the bell again. Indeed he pressed his -great thumb on the ivory button for nearly one minute. The bell -shrilled continuously and imperiously. Still no one came. Mulligan -scratched his head and considered. "Something's wrong," thought he. -"If I'd the key I'd enter and see if the lady is ill. Queer, the bell -don't waken the servants. Augh! The lazy beasts."</p> - -<p>It occurred to him that in his hand he held the key dropped by the -young gentleman. Almost without thinking he fumbled for the hole and -slipped in the key. To his surprise it turned under his involuntary -pressure, and the door swung open noiselessly. Again the constable -scratched his head. Things--so he assured himself--were becoming -mysterious, and he scented an adventure. It was strange that this key -should open the door. "Unless this is his home, and he's running away -for some devilment. Maybe the lady isn't his sister; perhaps his wife -or his sweetheart. Augh! But she'd not let him go at this hour. Catch -her."</p> - -<p>However he might argue, it was foolish to stand before an open door -without doing something. The inspector would be round soon, and -might--probably would--demand an explanation. Now that he had got this -far, Mulligan naturally decided to see the adventure through. As yet -he had no suspicion that anything was wrong, though he certainly -thought the whole affair mysterious. Walking into the dark hall, at -the end of which, by the light of his lantern, he saw the glimmer of a -marble staircase, he called gently up into the blackness. "Is there -any one there?" demanded Mulligan. "If so, come down, for I'm in want -of an explanation."</p> - -<p>He paused and listened. There came no reply. The dense silence held -the house. Not even a clock ticked. Mulligan suppressed his breath and -listened with all his ears. No sound filled them save the drumming of -his heart. Again he ran into the garden and again assured himself that -the light was burning overhead. He began to conclude that the position -called for the intervention of the law. Assuming an official air, he -tramped up the stairs, flashing the light right and left as he -ascended. He did not know the position of the room, save that it was -in the front of the house. But thus indicated, he thought there would -be little difficulty in finding it and solving the mystery.</p> - -<p>From the glimpses he caught, the house appeared to be richly -furnished. He saw pictures, velvet curtains, marble statues, and all -the paraphernalia of a wealthy man's mansion. The stairs were draped -with scarlet hangings, contrasting vividly with the whiteness of the -polished marble. On the landing, curtains of the same flamboyant hue -were parted before another dark hall. Mulligan crossed this, for he -saw--or thought he saw--a thread of light beneath a door. The hall was -of marble and filled with tropical plants. A glass roof overhead -revealed the starry night and the grotesque forms of the plants. The -flooring was of mosaic, and here and there stood velvet-cushioned -chairs, deep and restful. Evidently the house was owned by rich and -artistic people. And the fitful gleams from his lantern exaggerated -the wealth and splendour around.</p> - -<p>In spite of the noise made by his boots--which were anything but -light--no one appeared to demand the reason of his intrusion. He began -to feel an eerie feeling creeping over him. This silent, lordly house, -the darkness, the stillness, the loneliness: it was all calculated to -appeal strongly--as it did--to the Celtic imagination of the -policeman.</p> - -<p>Towards the thin stream of light flowing, as it seemed, from under the -door, Mulligan took his cautious way. Knocking softly, he waited. No -reply came. Again he knocked, and again the silence which struck a -chill to his heart ensued. At length he took his courage in both hands -and flung open the door. It was not locked. A gush of light nearly -blinded him. He staggered back, and placed his hands across his -dazzled eyes. Then he looked in bewilderment at a remarkable scene. -The room was square and rather large, unbroken by pillar or arch, and -contained only one window. Walls and roof and flooring and furniture -and hangings were absolutely white. There was not a spot or speck of -colour in the place. The walls were of white enamel studded with -silver fleur-de-lis; the floor of polished marble strewn with white -skins of long-haired animals. The curtains, drawn aside from the -window, were of milky velvet. The furniture was of white polished wood -cushioned with pearly silks. Everywhere the room was like snow, and -the milky globes of the lamps shed an argent radiance over the whole. -It looked cold and cheerless but eminently beautiful. An artistic -room, but not one that had a homely look about it. The white glow, the -dazzling expanse, colourless and severe, made the man shiver, rough -though he was. "It's like a cold winter's day," said the imaginative -Celt.</p> - -<p>Suddenly he uttered an exclamation. On moving cautiously into the -room, he saw a piano of polished white wood in a recess, concealed by -a white velvet curtain from the door. Before the piano lay a white -bearskin; on this, face downward; the body of a woman. She was dressed -in black, the one spot of colour in that pale room. But there was -another colour--a vivid red, staining the skin. Mulligan touched the -body--it was cold and limp. "Dead," said Mulligan. From under the left -shoulder-blade trickled a thin stream of blood, and his voice, strong -as it was, used as he had been to scenes of terror, faltered in the -dead silence of that death-chamber.</p> - -<p>"Dead! Murdered!"</p> - -<p>Not a sound. Even the wind had died away. Only the strong man looking -down at that still corpse, only the blackness of her dress; the -redness of her life-blood soaking into the white bearskin, and all -around the wan desolation of that white, mysterious room, Arctic and -silent.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER II</h4> - -<h5><a name="div1_02" href="#div1Ref_02">ANOTHER MYSTERY</a></h5> -<br> - -<p>Mulligan stared at the dead woman, but beyond touching her to see if -life remained, he did not attempt to alter the position of the corpse. -For corpse it was. The woman was as dead as a stone, and Mulligan knew -his duty too well to take any authority upon himself The inspector was -the man to issue orders, and the inspector would be at the head of -Achilles Avenue when the clock struck twelve. As this thought passed -slowly through the policeman's mind--for the unexpectedness of the -tragedy had somewhat dazed him--he heard the midnight chimes. With a -sudden start he recovered his wits and wheeled round. In a few minutes -he was out of the house, and had closed the door. Only when in the -roadway did his brain begin to work at its normal speed.</p> - -<p>"It's that young gentleman," thought Mulligan. "He said I'd come -across a crime sooner than I expected. And the key is his. Mary, be -good to us; but he must have killed the poor creature before he joined -me. Augh!" He stopped and considered. "But if that's so, what about the -singing. She was at the piano, and the song wasn't done when the -gentleman joined me. Augh!"</p> - -<p>At this moment of his reflection, and while he was looking anxiously -down the road for the inspector, a man came walking rapidly along, and -suddenly emerged from a side-street that ran at right angles to -Achilles Avenue. He almost dashed into the arms of Mulligan, who -brought up short under a lamp. "Where are ye going?" asked the -policeman, rendered suspicious by his recent discovery and by the -manifest haste of the man.</p> - -<p>"Going, confound you!" snapped the man, who seemed to be in a very bad -temper. "I'm looking for my motor-car."</p> - -<p>"For your what?"</p> - -<p>"Motor-car! Automobile! Can't you understand English? I've lost it. -Some one's bolted with the whole kit. Have you seen my car? It's -painted yellow picked out with black, and------"</p> - -<p>"Here's the inspector," chipped in Mulligan, recognising with relief -the rigid form of his superior. "You can tell him, and if you're the -man, anything you may say will be used in evidence against you. That's -the law. Augh!"</p> - -<p>The man stared at this speech, but Mulligan wiped his heated brow and -glared at him in a resentful manner, not at all sure but what this -might be the criminal. There was no ground for such a supposition, -especially as the key belonged to another man. But Mulligan was not in -a position to weigh his words, and therefore said the first thing that -came into his mind. So the man stared, Mulligan scowled, and the -inspector drew near.</p> - -<p>"You've been drinking, bobby," said the man at length. "My name is -Luther Tracey. I manufacture motor-cars, and some beast has bolted -with one of the best I've ever turned out. Such a flier. I guess you -police hereabouts ain't worth a cent."</p> - -<p>"You're American," said Mulligan.</p> - -<p>"And you're several kinds of ass, I reckon. See here, about this car -of mine."</p> - -<p>Mr. Tracey would have gone on to explain at length, but that he was -interrupted by the arrival of the inspector, who was tall and thin, -military and sharp. He glanced keenly at Tracey, and inquiringly at -Mulligan. The engineer would have begun talking at once, as he -appeared to have a considerable fund of what his countrymen call -"chin-music"; but Mulligan waved him aside, and reported hurriedly to -Inspector Derrick what he had discovered. Although Derrick was -manifestly surprised and excited by the strange recital, he made no -remark; but when in possession of Mulligan's facts--which ranged from -his meeting with the young gentleman to his leaving the dead body in -the house--he turned to Tracey. That man was listening eagerly, and -seemed quite interested.</p> - -<p>"Well, I surmise that's a queer case," said he, smacking his leg. -"What do you make of it, inspector? If you want to know my opinion, -the man as laid out that lady corpse has bolted with my motor-car."</p> - -<p>"No," said Mulligan; "he walked with me for a---- When did you miss -your car, sir?"</p> - -<p>"You might call it a few minutes after eleven."</p> - -<p>"He was with me then," said the policeman; "'twasn't him. No!"</p> - -<p>Derrick, who had preserved silence, chimed in "Who are you, sir?"</p> - -<p>"My name's Tracey," replied the American smartly; "here's my card. I -manufacture motor-cars, and came to see some friends of mine this -night in one of my latest. I left her humming at the gate, and at ten -minutes after eleven I went out to start her for the factory. Nary a -sign of the car, sir, and I've been chasing round these lanes for the -last hour. This lunatic"--he pointed to Mulligan--"seems to think I -have to do with the murder. Don't you think you'd better run me in? It -'ull be an advertisement and a smart action for false imprisonment."</p> - -<p>Derrick smiled under his heavy moustache, and took a long look at Mr. -Tracey. The American was fair and handsome, active in his movements -and compact in his frame. He wore fashionable evening-dress, and -looked a shrewd, pleasant man of the world, who had travelled much and -had his wits about him. The mention he made of arrest showed Derrick -that the man was innocent. Not even a Yankee's passion for advertising -his goods would hurry a man into the grip of the law if he were in any -way guilty. The inspector, however, did not think it wise to lose -sight of Tracey, and being diplomatic he behaved towards him in quite -an affable way. "You might come with me and see into this matter," he -said, moving on.</p> - -<p>"Rather," rejoined Tracey with alacrity. "I'm dead gone on adventures, -and this is a ripper. Wonder if I can get an advertisement out of it? -What do you think, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Well, if your car is missing------"</p> - -<p>"'Course. The man's raced off with it."</p> - -<p>"No," denied Mulligan again; "he was with me at the time your car was -lost."</p> - -<p>"Do you think the man you talked to, killed this woman?" asked the -inspector, turning sharply on Mulligan.</p> - -<p>"I do and I don't, sir."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean by that?"</p> - -<p>Mulligan scratched his head. "He had the key, and he came out of the -house sure enough. But she was singing when he talked to me at the -gate. She wasn't dead then."</p> - -<p>"Then he must be innocent," said Derrick sharply. "Do you know to whom -the villa belongs?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir. Here it is, and you can see that the light's still burning -as I left it. I haven't touched the body, sir."</p> - -<p>"You did right," approved Derrick, swinging open the gate. "Wait, we -must look at the name. Your lantern, Mulligan."</p> - -<p>The light illuminated the black letters on the gate, but before the -inspector could pronounce the name, Tracey did it for him. "Ajax -Villa--Ajax Villa," said he, stopping; "sakes, it's Fane's house. -Don't tell me it's Mrs. Fane--such a fine woman. But it can't be."</p> - -<p>"Why not?" said Derrick, looking at him suspiciously.</p> - -<p>"Because the whole family are at the seaside--all except Miss Mason."</p> - -<p>"Where is she, and who is she?"</p> - -<p>"Miss Mason is the sister of Mrs. Fane, and she's stopping with the -friends I was seeing when my car was stolen."</p> - -<p>This was a strange discovery, and Derrick looked puzzled. Tracey spoke -in all good faith, and seemed quite willing to enter the house. All -the same it was queer he should know so much about the matter. As the -constable opened the door Derrick asked a question. "You heard -Mulligan describe the man who came out of this house," he said; "can -you tell me who he is?"</p> - -<p>"No," confessed Tracey. "I know very little of Mr. Fane and his -family. I've never been in this house. But Miss Mason is the bosom -friend of the girl I'm going to engineer into the position of Mrs. -Tracey. She's Gerty Baldwin at present, and lives at No. 20 Meadow -Lane along with her mother and the kids. Now, is there anything else -you want, to know, Mr. Inspector?"</p> - -<p>"Not at present. But later on." Derrick nodded and walked into the -house, followed by the two men.</p> - -<p>"Oh, anything you like," called out Tracey, not at all damped by the -fact of death being in the house, "anything for an advertisement. I -guess I'll sell that car at a big figure. Tussaud's will buy it if the -murderer's skipped in it."</p> - -<p>"He hasn't," said Mulligan, still confused.</p> - -<p>"He has," insisted the American. "Why should an honest man yank off my -car? Some one wanted to get out of the way in a hurry, and he took my -flier. I guess he's out of London by this time. She can skim a bit. -Oh, I reckon she's no slouch."</p> - -<p>"Hush," said Derrick sharply, and removed his cap. Tracey did the -same, for the presence of death--the immediate presence--began to -sober him. Mulligan stood rigidly at the door while Derrick examined -the body. "Is it Mrs. Fane?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"No," said Tracey, staring at a girlish face, still and white and -waxen. "Mrs. Fane would make two of this poor thing. She's a Junoesque -sort of woman, about the size of the Venus of Milo, and the same -shape, too. This is a slip of a girl."</p> - -<p>"A married woman," said Derrick, pointing to a ring on the hand. He -walked slowly round the room. "Mulligan," said he, "go and see if any -one else is in the house------"</p> - -<p>"I tell you Fane and family are at the seaside," said Tracey.</p> - -<p>"Never mind. There may be a caretaker. Look round, Mulligan, and see -if any windows or doors are unlocked or open. Mr. Tracey, please sit -still and silent. I wish to make an examination."</p> - -<p>Mulligan departed promptly, and the American sat comfortably in a deep -armchair watching the inspector. That gentleman prowled round like a -sleuth-hound. He examined the window, then scrambled along the floor, -shook various curtains, shifted several cushions, and finally knelt -beside the body after a glance at the piano. He interrupted his -examination to point out the music. "According to Mulligan, she was -singing 'Kathleen Mavourneen,'" said he. "There's the song. Poor soul. -She was evidently struck down when singing."</p> - -<p>"Then the man met by Mulligan is innocent, since he was outside while -the song was still being sung."</p> - -<p>"He might be an accessory before the fact, Mr. Tracey."</p> - -<p>"In other words, an accomplice. But he didn't nick my car. No, sir. -The real murderer did that, and I guess that car's worth money at the -boss waxwork show of this metropolis. They can fire it into the -chamber of horrors along with Napoleon's cart and the baby's pram. -What figure would you ask now, inspector?"</p> - -<p>"You go too fast, Mr. Tracey. We don't know yet that the criminal has -stolen your car. Is the house you were visiting far from here?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I guess not. Mrs. Baldwin hangs out No. 20------"</p> - -<p>"Yes," interrupted Derrick, "you told me. That's no distance. Meadow -Lane--to be sure--part of Old Troy."</p> - -<p>"No," contradicted Tracey. "The village is called Cloverhead."</p> - -<p>"And round the village Troy has been built, so the lesser name is -merged in the larger."</p> - -<p>"Sounds legal, and not quite right, Mr. Inspector. Say, your -name's------"</p> - -<p>"Derrick. Inspector Derrick. I am in charge of the Troy police, and -this is the first crime of any sort I have stumbled across here."</p> - -<p>"Slow lot," commented the American. "In our country we'd have filled -the boneyard in six months."</p> - -<p>"We don't murder on that gigantic scale here, Mr. Tracey," Derrick -answered, somewhat dryly. Then he looked steadily and keenly at the -man. "I'm going to trust you," he declared.</p> - -<p>Tracey whistled, and stared doubtfully at the body. "Shouldn't if I -were you, sir. Here's a crime, and I know a lot------"</p> - -<p>"Oh, you do! What do you know?"</p> - -<p>"What I've told you. I might be an accomplice too, you see, along with -the other man."</p> - -<p>"The murderer?"</p> - -<p>"No. The rooster who skipped with my car. He didn't stick that poor -girl there. Not he. Guess he kept your copper employed in jaw while -the real murderer polished off the female. That's how I size up -things. Well, sir, and what do you want me to do?"</p> - -<p>"Fetch a doctor."</p> - -<p>"Don't know any hereabouts My knowledge of this township is limited to -Meadow Lane, and Miss Baldwin's favourite walk across the fields. -'Sides"--he cast a quizzical look at the officer--"I might not come -back."</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, you will. I shouldn't let you go if I wasn't sure you'd -return, if only for the sake of your car and the advertisement."</p> - -<p>Tracey laughed. "Well, where's the medicine man?"</p> - -<p>Derrick scribbled a few lines on his card, and passed it along. "Go -there, and ask Dr. Geason to come here--the sooner the better."</p> - -<p>"Right, sir!" Tracey rose and looked wistfully down at the dead. "I -guess the man who did that would be lynched in our country."</p> - -<p>"He'll be hanged in this when found," retorted Derrick. "Go, please."</p> - -<p>When the American was out of the room the inspector resumed his -examination. Mulligan returned when he was in the middle of a brown -study. "There's nothing to be seen, sir," he reported. "No one in the -house. Doors and windows all bolted and barred. Not a sign."</p> - -<p>"Strange," mused Derrick. "You are sure that the man who came out of -the house was speaking with you while the singing was going on?"</p> - -<p>"I'll take my oath on it, sir. He can't be guilty."</p> - -<p>"Did he strike you as being confused?"</p> - -<p>"Not very, sir. He didn't want his face to be seen, though, and kept -his hat down on his eyes. He said the lady who was singing was his -sister, and that he often came to see her."</p> - -<p>"H'm! Why should he come to a house which is shut up?"</p> - -<p>"He had the latch-key."</p> - -<p>"Hand it over to me," said Derrick, and when in possession of it, took -a long look at the size and shape. "New," said he, rapping it on his -knuckles. "Hasn't been used much."</p> - -<p>"Might be polished from too much use, sir," ventured Mulligan.</p> - -<p>"The edges wouldn't be so rough if it wasn't new." Derrick pointed -this fact out. "You don't know the man's name?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir."</p> - -<p>"Nor where he lives?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir; I had no reason to ask him anything."</p> - -<p>"Well, I suppose you couldn't foresee that we should want him. I don't -expect he'll turn up in this neighbourhood again."</p> - -<p>"What's your theory, sir?"</p> - -<p>"It's early to form one, Mulligan. I fancy two men killed this woman. -The one you saw kept you in conversation, while the other murdered the -woman, and then cleared, while his accomplice led you away. Did you -hear a scream?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir. The song ended as we left the gate, and in a few minutes we -were too far away to hear any cry."</p> - -<p>"As I thought. The man was an accomplice sent out to lure you away."</p> - -<p>"It might be, sir," confessed Mulligan. "I was leaning over the gate -when the young gentleman came out."</p> - -<p>"The men saw you from the window, and as they couldn't kill the woman -while you were there, Number One went out to draw you away, while -Number Two remained behind to commit the crime. At what hour did you -part with Number One?"</p> - -<p>"Half-past eleven, sir. I was with him thirty minutes."</p> - -<p>"Time enough for Number Two to murder the woman and make off. He -escaped by the front door, since you say the back premises are locked -up. Ah! there's the doctor. Go to the station and send on----" Here -Derrick named two of his most trusted subordinates.</p> - -<p>When Mulligan left, the inspector resumed his examination. Already he -had looked over the clothing of the deceased. She was plainly but -tastefully dressed in black, but wore no ornaments. Everything was of -good quality, but made without trimmings. The under-linen was equally -fine, but on it the inspector could find no mark or initials likely to -indicate the name. Apparently she had been seated at the piano when -stabbed, and had fallen dead on the bearskin almost without a cry. The -assassin had assured himself that she was dead, then had turned her -face downward, so as to avoid the horrified stare of those wide-open -eyes. At least this was the inspector's view.</p> - -<p>"A pretty woman," said Derrick musingly. "Fair, slender, blue eyes, -delicate hands. I should think she was a lady. Married"--he touched -the ring--"but not rich, since she wears no ornaments. Careful in her -dress, but, not mean, and not fashionable either. Hullo!"</p> - -<p>This exclamation was drawn from him by the sight of a hat and cloak -thrown over a chair on the further side of the piano. These were also -fine, but neat and unpretentious. The woman must have come to the -house on a visit, since she certainly would not have placed her -out-of-door things in such a place and have sat down had she a bedroom -in the house. But what was she doing in a mansion, the owner of which -was at the seaside? Had the first man let her in with his latch-key, -and if so, how did he come to be in possession of the latch-key? These -were questions which the inspector was trying to answer when the -doctor arrived.</p> - -<p>Geason was an ambitious young medical man who had set up in Troy a -year previously, and was trying hard to scrape a practice together. He -was well aware that such a case as this would give him a much-desired -publicity, and consequently expressed himself profoundly grateful to -Derrick for the job. Then he knelt beside the body and made an -examination, while Tracey, who had returned, questioned the inspector. -"Found out anything?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Only that the woman was a visitor to this house," and Derrick pointed -out the cloak and hat.</p> - -<p>"Strange," said the American. "Wonder what she meant making free with -a man's house in his absence?"</p> - -<p>"Are you sure Mr. Fane's at the seaside?"</p> - -<p>"Certain. Miss Baldwin was told by Miss Mason--and she's Mrs. Fane's -sister--that they would stay a month. Westcliff-on-Sea is the place. -Miss Mason got a letter yesterday. Fane was there then."</p> - -<p>"It is an easy run from Westcliff-on-Sea to this place," responded -Derrick dryly. "A man can fetch this house from there in a couple of -hours. But I don't suspect Mr. Fane."</p> - -<p>"He might be the man with the latch-key."</p> - -<p>"No." Derrick thought of the key being new. "I don't think so. Did any -young man stay in this house?"</p> - -<p>"Not that I know of. You'd better ask Miss Mason. I know nothing about -this ranche. Well, doctor?"</p> - -<p>"She's been dead nearly five hours," said Geason, rising.</p> - -<p>"Nonsense," said Derrick. "She was alive at eleven, and it's not one -o'clock yet."</p> - -<p>"I don't know about that," persisted Geason, "but from the condition -of the body and the lack of warmth, I say she has been dead five -hours."</p> - -<p>Derrick and Tracey looked at one another perplexed. If the doctor was -right--and he seemed positive--this unknown person could not have been -the woman who sang "Kathleen Mavourneen."</p> - -<p>"There's four of them," said Tracey; "two women and two men."</p> - -<p>Derrick shook his head. The case was too mysterious for him to venture -an opinion.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER III</h4> - -<h5><a name="div1_03" href="#div1Ref_03">THE BALDWINS</a></h5> -<br> - -<p>"Maryanneliza, do keep the children quiet. The bad twins are fighting -with the good twins, and the odd ones are making such a noise that I -can't finish this story."</p> - -<p>"Well, ma'am, there's so much to be done. The breakfast's to clear -away, and the washing to be counted, and----"</p> - -<p>"Oh, don't trouble me," cried Mrs. Baldwin, settling herself on the -sofa. "It's one of my bad days. What Miss Mason will think of the way -this house is kept, I don't know. What do I pay you wages for?"</p> - -<p>"It's little enough I get," said Mary Ann Eliza, firing up.</p> - -<p>"More than you're worth," retorted her mistress. "If you were a -mother, with seven orphans to keep, you might talk. Where's Miss -Gerty?"</p> - -<p>"Gone to see Mr. Tracey at the factory."</p> - -<p>"So like her," lamented the mother; "no consideration for my feelings. -What I feel only the doctor knows. There!" as several wild screams -rent the air to tatters, "that's blood. If any one of my darlings die, -I'll hold you responsible, Maryanneliza!" Mrs. Baldwin ran the three -names into one as the children did, and shrieked out to stop the -servant from going. But Maryanneliza knew better. If she stopped to -listen to Mrs. Baldwin's complaints, there would be no work done. She -simply bolted to see which child was being tormented to death, and -Mrs. Baldwin, after calling in vain, subsided into her book, and -solaced herself with a lump of Turkish delight.</p> - -<p>She was not unlike a Turkish odalisque herself, if rumour speaks truly -of their fatness and flabbiness. A more shapeless woman it would have -been hard to discover, and she usually wore a tea-gown as the least -troublesome garment to assume. From one week's end to the other, Mrs. -Baldwin never went out, save for a stroll in the garden. Not even the -delights of shopping could tempt her into making any exertion, and she -had long since ceased to care for the preservation of her figure or -good looks. At one time of her life she had been handsome, but the -production of seven children, including two sets of twins, had proved -too much for her. Also her second husband had deserted her, and as he -had been responsible for six children, she complained bitterly of his -absence. He was supposed to be alive, but kept carefully away from his -too prolific wife. For eight years she had not heard from him, but -never ceased to expect him back.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Baldwin's first husband had been a gentleman, and she was the -pretty daughter of a lodging-house keeper, who had ensnared him when -he was not on his guard. His family disowned him, and after the birth -of a daughter, the young man broke his neck when hunting. He left Mrs. -Harrow, as she was then, with the child and five hundred a year. -Afterwards a man called Rufus Baldwin, attracted by the money, married -the pretty young widow. Luckily, owing to the will, Mr. Baldwin was -not able to seize the principal of the income. But he lived on his -wife till six children came to lessen the money, and then finding he -could get nothing more luxurious, he ran away. Mrs. Baldwin then -removed to Cloverhead, and occupied an old manor-house at a small -rent. It was a pleasant, rambling old mansion in a quiet street, and -here she lived very comfortably on her five hundred a year.</p> - -<p>"Do you remember Gerty Harrow with whom we were at school?" wrote -Laura Mason to an old friend. "She lives here, near the place of my -brother-in-law, and is now about twenty-two years of age. Such a nice -girl--pretty and clever, and engaged to a most amusing American called -Luther Tracey. He manufactures motor-cars, and Gerty Baldwin drives -them. Whenever a car is sold, Gerty goes down and stops for a week or -so with the people who buy it, to show them how it works. Being pretty -she gets plenty to do. Mrs. Baldwin objected to Gerty doing this for a -livelihood, and only consented when Gerty agreed to drop her father's -name. She is Miss Baldwin now, and I like her more than ever. The -mother----"</p> - -<p>Here followed several marks of exclamation, as though Laura's powers -of writing failed her, as they assuredly did. It would have taken the -pen of Dickens to describe this lazy, self-indulgent, querulous woman, -who lay on a sofa all day reading novels. At the present moment, she -was deep in a <i>Family Herald</i> story called "Only an Earl," in which a -governess with a single rose in her hair marries, with great -self-abnegation, a mere earl, after refusing two dukes and a foreign -prince. Mrs. Baldwin, basking like a cat in the sunshine that poured -through the window, read each page slowly, and ate a lump of Turkish -delight every time she turned a page.</p> - -<p>The sitting-room was most untidy. Children's toys were strewn about; -the carpet was raggedy the pictures hung askew, the red plush -table-cloth--it was a most abominable covering--was stained, the blind -was torn, and a broken window-pane had been filled up with brown -paper. Yet the room had a comfortable, homely look, and if it had not -been so disorderly, would have been pleasant to live in. But Mrs. -Baldwin, quite undisturbed by the confusion, read on with great -enjoyment. She only lifted her eyes when Laura Mason entered the room, -and then her first words were querulous.</p> - -<p>"How you can bear to stop here with Getty when your own home is so -beautiful, I really don't know," moaned Mrs. Baldwin, keeping her -place in the tale by bending the book backward. "Just look at this -room. I may toil from morning to night, and it never will look tidy."</p> - -<p>"It's comfortable, at all events," said Laura, sitting down. "Do you -feel well this morning, Mrs. Baldwin."</p> - -<p>"Just alive. I could hardly get out of bed. Not a wink of sleep, and -dreadful dreams."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Baldwin did not explain how she could dream without sleeping, but -she was such a wonderful woman that she could do anything. For -instance, she could be idle throughout the day, and keep up the -fiction that she worked like a slave. She could enjoy her life in -laziness and dirt and selfishness, posing as a martyr to every one. -Laura saw through her as most people did; but as Laura was a guest, -and Gerty's friend, she did not explain herself at length, as she -would have liked to do. Besides, Mrs. Baldwin was a good-natured old -dormouse, and no one could be angry with her long.</p> - -<p>"I have been out with Gerty," said Laura, sitting near the window; -"she has gone to the factory to see Mr. Tracey."</p> - -<p>"She never thinks of me slaving from morning till night," moaned the -mother. "I'm skin and bone."</p> - -<p>Miss Mason nearly laughed outright, for Mrs. Baldwin was as fat as -butter, and quite as soft. "You should take more care of yourself."</p> - -<p>"No, Miss Mason," said the heroic woman. "I must deny myself all -pleasures for the sake of my babes. Ah, they will never know what a -mother they have."</p> - -<p>It certainly would not be for the want of telling, for Mrs. Baldwin -was always recounting her virtues at length. She did so now. "When I -was young and gay, and truly lovely, and lived with ma in Soho -Square," she rambled on, "I little thought that life would be so hard. -When Mr. Harrow led me to the altar, all was sunshine, but now penury -and disgrace are my portion."</p> - -<p>"Oh, not so bad as that, Mrs. Baldwin," protested Laura.</p> - -<p>"Penury, disgrace, and desertion, Miss Mason. Rufus Baldwin has left -me with six pledges of his affection, and but for the forethought of -my first husband--who must have foreseen the twins--I would have -starved in chains and miry clay."</p> - -<p>Having thus placed herself in the lowest position she could think -of, in order to extort sympathy, Mrs. Baldwin ate more Turkish -delight--she was too selfish to offer Laura any--and stated that her -heart was broken. "Though I don't show it, being trained by ma to bear -my woes in silence," she finished.</p> - -<p>Laura said a few words of comfort in order to stop further complaints, -and then stated that she was going to Westcliff-on-Sea in two days. -"My sister Julia is expecting me," she said, "and I have been with you -for over a week. It is so good of you to have me."</p> - -<p>"Not at all. I've done my best to make you comfortable, Miss Mason, -though heaven knows I can hardly keep on my feet." Here Mrs. Baldwin -closed her eyes as a token of extreme exhaustion. "But we must do our -duty in the world, as I always tell Horry, who is to be a parson, if -he can pass the examinations, which I doubt. Of course Gerty will -marry Mr. Tracey, who is well off, and leave her poor ma, who has done -so much for her. But I am determined that my babes shall occupy the -best places in society. Totty, Dolly, and Sally shall marry money. -Jimmy and Dickey must win renown to repay me for my lifelong agonies. -You don't look well, Miss Mason?"</p> - -<p>The suddenness of this question, coming so quickly after the rambling -discourse, made Laura start and colour. She was a fair, pretty girl, -with yellow hair and a creamy complexion. Her eyes were dark, her -mouth delightful, and her nose was "tip-tilted like the petal of a -flower," to quote her favourite poet. Not a particularly original girl -either in looks or character, but charming and sympathetic. Laura had -a wide circle of friends who all loved her, but no one could call her -clever. But she was so womanly that men liked her. "I am quite well, -Mrs. Baldwin," she declared; "only I did not sleep much last night."</p> - -<p>"Dreams! dreams!" moaned Mrs. Baldwin. "I had horrible dreams about -you. I fancied I saw you eating bananas. Every one knows that means -trouble. But pine-apples growing in ice are the worst," said Mrs. -Baldwin. "I have never dreamed that. Trouble is coming to you."</p> - -<p>"Don't!" cried Laura, starting to her feet, and with an anxious air; -"please don't! I think dreams are nonsense."</p> - -<p>"No," said Mrs. Baldwin, producing a small book from under her sofa -pillow. "Read this, and see what it means to dream of sparrows pecking -cats to death."</p> - -<p>Laura laughed. "I should rather think the cats would eat the birds."</p> - -<p>"Not in a dream. Everything goes by contraries in dreams. Before John -Baldwin ran away, I dreamed he was rushing into my arms, crowned with -honeysuckle. But that day he went. Didn't your walk last night do you -good?"</p> - -<p>"No," said Laura shortly, then went on with some hesitation. "I was -away only for half an hour."</p> - -<p>"Where did you go?"</p> - -<p>"Across the fields."</p> - -<p>"Thinking of Mr. Calvert, no doubt," said Mrs. Baldwin playfully.</p> - -<p>Laura grew red, and on another occasion would have resented this -remark about the young gentleman mentioned by Mrs. Baldwin. But at -this moment she appeared to be rather glad of the suggestion. "I <i>was</i> -thinking of him," she assented.</p> - -<p>"A very nice young man, though he is an actor."</p> - -<p>"Why shouldn't he be an actor?" demanded Laura angrily.</p> - -<p>"There! there!" said Mrs. Baldwin soothingly; and aggravatingly, "We -know that love levels all ranks."</p> - -<p>"Arnold Calvert is a gentleman."</p> - -<p>"Your sister, Mrs. Fane, doesn't think so. She expressed herself much -annoyed that he should pay his addresses to you."</p> - -<p>"Julia can mind her own business," said Laura angrily. "She married -Mr. Fane, and he wasn't a very good match."</p> - -<p>"No indeed. Your sister had the money."</p> - -<p>"And I have money also. Quite enough for Arnold and I to live on, as -you----" Here Laura held her tongue. She really did not see why she -should tell Mrs. Baldwin all her private affairs. But when the heart -is very full, the tongue will speak out. Luckily at this moment there -was another outburst of noise overhead, and Mrs. Baldwin moaned three -times.</p> - -<p>"The bad twins are persecuting the good ones, and the odd ones are -looking on," she lamented. "Do go up and see, Miss Mason."</p> - -<p>Laura, glad of an excuse to leave the room, saw Mrs. Baldwin with -another lump of delight in her mouth, and another page turned, and -flew up the stairs. Here she found a general rebellion. The bad twins, -Totty and Dickey, aged ten, were pinching the good twins, Jimmy and -Sally, aged twelve. Horry and Dolly, who, not being twins, were called -the odd ones, looked on complacently. Laura darted into the middle of -the fray, and parted the fighters.</p> - -<p>"Horry! Dolly! You ought to be ashamed of yourselves to see these -children fight so. Horry, you are fourteen, and you, Dolly, are -seventeen. Why don't you behave?"</p> - -<p>"We are behaving," said Dolly, a girl in the stage of long legs, short -frocks, and inky fingers. "We haven't touched them. I can't study my -French lesson for the noise."</p> - -<p>"And I've got my algebra to do."</p> - -<p>"You shouldn't learn lessons on Sunday," said Laura.</p> - -<p>"Why not? Gerty's gone to business."</p> - -<p>"She has not. She only went to see if Mr. Tracey found his motor-car -that was lost last night."</p> - -<p>"Ah! And I'm glad of it," cried Horry triumphantly. "He wouldn't let -me sit in it to watch."</p> - -<p>"And a good thing to," said Dolly, pensively picking a hole in her -stocking; "you started it last time."</p> - -<p>"And nearly ran us over," said one of the good twins.</p> - -<p>"I wish he had," said the bad twins in chorus. "Come and play, Miss -Mason. Bible games!"</p> - -<p>"I have no time. Gerty will be back soon. Now, be good children, and -don't disturb your mother. She has a headache. Besides, you must get -ready for church."</p> - -<p>"I hate church," growled Horry. "And if mother thinks I'm going to be -a parson, I ain't. So there now."</p> - -<p>"You'll never go to heaven then," said Sally, who was the most pious -of the good twins.</p> - -<p>"<i>Oh, mon Dieu, quel dommage!</i>" said Dolly.</p> - -<p>"Dolly!" cried Laura, shocked.</p> - -<p>"I'm only swearing in French. It doesn't sound so bad as using bad -words in English."</p> - -<p>"No," chimed in a bad twin. "I heard the gardener say----"</p> - -<p>"Hold your tongue, Jimmy; you needn't say the word!"</p> - -<p>But Jimmy, being bad by nature and training, had made up his mind to -say the word, and did so very distinctly. An uproar ensued, which -ended by the entrance of Mary Anne Eliza. "Come and be washed." There -was a chorus of protests, in the midst of which Laura escaped. Not -being inclined to talk further to Mrs. Baldwin, she went out in the -garden, which was large and as ill-kept as the house within. At the -gate she paused, and leaning over, looked up the lane. It was a -beautiful morning, and the air was as balmy as the sky was blue. But -the exquisite weather did not banish the dark look from Laura's face. -She gazed up the road with compressed lips, and then taking a letter -out of her pocket, she read it hurriedly. Thus engaged, she did not -see a tall brunette flying down the lane, with a flushed face, and an -air of excitement.</p> - -<p>"O Laura!" cried the newcomer; "O Laura! Such news--dreadful news."</p> - -<p>Miss Mason started, and her face grew pale. Hastily thrusting the -letter into her pocket, she looked at the girl. "What is it, Gerty? -Nothing is wrong with Arnold?"</p> - -<p>"No! no! What a timid thing you are," said Gerty, opening the gate. -"But I have just seen Luther. He hasn't found his car. But he told me -that a murder had been committed in your sister's house."</p> - -<p>"A murder!" Laura grasped her friend's arm. "Not Arnold?"</p> - -<p>"No. It's a woman."</p> - -<p>"Who is she?"</p> - -<p>"No one knows. She was found lying dead in the White Room. Stabbed in -the back, and quite dead. Such a pretty woman, Luther says, and quite -young. Luther thinks the murderer ran away with his car, and that's -how it's missing. He's coming round here this morning to see you."</p> - -<p>"To see me? Why should he see me? I know nothing."</p> - -<p>Laura spoke sharply, and her face was in a glow of colour. At the same -time it expressed bewilderment. "How did the woman enter the house?" -she asked; "and who is she?"</p> - -<p>"I tell you no one knows," said Gerty impatiently. "You'll hear all -from Luther, when he comes. But don't say anything to mother. She'll -only moan and make a fuss. Besides, Luther says it had better be kept -quiet till your brother-in-law comes up. He has been telegraphed for -by the police."</p> - -<p>"The police. O Gerty, will they bring the police into the matter?"</p> - -<p>"Of course. It was a policeman who found the body last night."</p> - -<p>"How did the policeman enter the house?" asked Laura. "It's shut up, -and not even a caretaker was left."</p> - -<p>"I don't know the whole story. Luther would not tell me much." Here -Gerty looked at her friend. "Laura, I thought you went to the house -last night."</p> - -<p>"No," said Laura, after a moment's hesitation. "I told you that I was -going to meet Arnold. You know that I have to meet him by stealth, -since Julia objects to our engagement. It is not likely we would meet -at the house--especially as it is locked up."</p> - -<p>"Did you meet him?" asked Gerty persistently and curiously.</p> - -<p>"I didn't. I went into the fields by the Nightingale's Tree, and -waited till nearly a quarter to ten. But Arnold never came."</p> - -<p>"Did he promise to come?"</p> - -<p>"No. I only went on the chance. He thought that he might be able to -get away if his understudy could take his part in the piece."</p> - -<p>"I expect he couldn't get away," said Gerty. "How awful this murder -is. I wonder who the woman can be, and how she came to be killed."</p> - -<p>"It's very strange," said Laura, who was pale but composed. "Gerty, -did you tell Luther I was out last night?"</p> - -<p>"No. We were too busy talking of the crime."</p> - -<p>"Then say nothing. I should only get into trouble with Julia."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER IV</h4> - -<h5><a name="div1_04" href="#div1Ref_04">THE MISSING MOTOR-CAR</a></h5> -<br> - -<p>It was not from Tracey that Laura learned the details of the Ajax -Villa tragedy. Leaving Gerty in the garden with her lover, Miss Mason -walked round to the house, eager to hear all that had taken place. A -rumour about the murder had crept round Troy, and a few curious people -were staring at the windows. But no policeman was to be seen. The -inspector kept his officers on guard inside the villa, thinking, and -very rightly, that the sight of a constable in the garden would -provoke inquiry, and bring onlookers. Derrick wished the matter kept -as quiet as possible until the arrival of Mr. Fane. The body of the -unfortunate woman had been removed to one of the bedrooms, and a -policeman watched at the door. Everything in the house was in the same -order as it had been when entered by Mulligan, and Derrick himself -took up his quarters in the White Room. Here he issued orders.</p> - -<p>"If a young lady calls to see me, let her in," he said; "but no one -else is to be admitted."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Tracey, sir?" asked Mulligan, who was full of official pride.</p> - -<p>"Yes; certainly. I except him. But no one else, mind."</p> - -<p>"What about the wire to Mr. Fane, sir?"</p> - -<p>"I'll send it as soon as I get his address from the lady. Ah"--he -nodded as a ring came to the door--"there she is."</p> - -<p>Laura entered the room, looking pale and discomposed, evidences of -emotion of which Derrick took note. To be sure, it was natural that a -girl of this tender age should be unstrung by the tragedy which had -taken place, and Derrick scarcely expected to see her other than -moved. But having regard to the crime, he was suspicious of all the -Fane family. He admired Laura's fresh beauty, and placed a chair for -her, apologising meanwhile for the disagreeable duty he had to -perform.</p> - -<p>"But I am sure you will excuse me, Miss Mason," said the gallant -Derrick. "I will ask as few questions as possible."</p> - -<p>"I really don't know what questions you can ask me," said Laura.</p> - -<p>"Oh, that is an easy matter, Miss Mason. However, we had better clear -the ground, so that we may understand one another. It was Mr. Tracey -who told me that you are the sister-in-law of Mr. Fane, and I -requested him to bring you round. Is he below?"</p> - -<p>"No; I preferred to come myself. Mr. Tracey is of a very inquiring -nature, and I don't want him to hear all I may have to tell you."</p> - -<p>Derrick shook his head. "I fear you will be obliged to let the whole -of London hear, Miss Mason. There will be an inquest."</p> - -<p>"Must I appear at that?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly. You may be able to identify the woman."</p> - -<p>"I fear not, from the description Mr. Tracey gave of her."</p> - -<p>Derrick looked at her sharply as she said this. Her eyes met his -fairly, and she did not flinch from his scrutiny. But her bosom rose -and fell hurriedly, her cheeks flushed, she passed her tongue over her -dry lips. All these things gave evidence of inward discomposure. -Whether she knew anything, Derrick was not prepared to say. But if she -did, he was sure it would be difficult to make her speak out. Laura -was innocent and young, but in spite of her delicate appearance, she -had a strong will. Derrick guessed as much from the way in which she -tightened her lips. But he could not conceive that she could hold out -against his examination. "Have you anything to conceal?" he asked -abruptly and rashly.</p> - -<p>Laura coloured still more and glanced at him indignantly. "How can you -speak to me like that?" she said; "do you suspect me?"</p> - -<p>"No. Certainly not. But the affair is strange, Miss Mason."</p> - -<p>"From the little I gathered from Mr. Tracey, it is," she assented.</p> - -<p>"Here is a house shut up," said Derrick, pursuing his own train of -thought; "left without even a caretaker----"</p> - -<p>"There was no need for one to be left," interposed the girl. "My -sister, Mrs. Fane, thinks that Troy is a safe suburb. There have been -no burglaries hereabouts, so she merely asked the police to keep an -eye on the house. Besides, she is away only for three weeks."</p> - -<p>"When do Mrs. Fane and family return?"</p> - -<p>"In six days."</p> - -<p>"You remained behind?"</p> - -<p>Laura bowed. "My sister and I are not on very good terms," she began, -"and I thought it best to remain with my friend, Miss Baldwin, while -the house was shut up. But you were saying something."</p> - -<p>"Merely that it is queer this woman--this stranger--if she is a -stranger, should obtain admittance into the house while those who own -it are away. She came on Saturday evening--at what time we are not as -yet able to learn. No one saw her come. We do not know if she came -alone or in the company of any one. But come she did, and entered the -house. How did she get in?"</p> - -<p>"I am as puzzled as you are, sir. But if you will let me see the body, -I may be able to tell you if it is that of a stranger to me."</p> - -<p>"We can do that later," said Derrick. "Meanwhile I wish to put a few -questions. And even if this woman were not a stranger is it likely -that she could enter the house?"</p> - -<p>"No. So far as I know, my brother-in-law alone has a latch-key."</p> - -<p>"Is there not another possessed by a young man?"</p> - -<p>Laura looked out of the window while answering this question. "Not -that I know of," she said faintly.</p> - -<p>Derrick appeared satisfied with this reply, and took out his -note-book. "Answer my questions, please," he began. "Who is Mr. Fane?"</p> - -<p>"My brother-in-law. He is the second partner in the shipping firm of -Mason, Son, and Mason."</p> - -<p>"Oh! And why does not his name appear?"</p> - -<p>Laura explained. "The firm is an old one," she said; "there are two -partners, my brother and Walter Fane. When my father died, the firm -was Mason, Son, and Mason, and as it is an old-established one, my -brother did not change the name when Mr. Fane became a partner."</p> - -<p>"When did Mr. Fane become a partner?"</p> - -<p>"Three years ago, when he married my sister Julia!"</p> - -<p>"Did Mr. Fane bring any money into the business?" asked Derrick; then -seeing Laura's look of surprise, he continued apologetically, "Excuse -me, Miss Mason, but I must know everything."</p> - -<p>"I believe Mr. Fane brought very little money into the business. It -was my sister Julia who had the money, and she paid sufficient to my -brother to buy Walter a share. But I have no right to tell you these -things," said Laura, flushing. "If you wish to know anything further -you must ask Mr. Fane himself."</p> - -<p>"I intend to. Will you give me his address?"</p> - -<p>"Ocean View, Wandle Road, Westcliff-on-Sea."</p> - -<p>Derrick noted this in his book. "I'll send a wire to him," he said, -"as the inquest takes place to-morrow and we must have him present. By -the way, do you know a young man with a pointed beard and slim figure? -Is he a visitor at this house?"</p> - -<p>"Not that I know of," said Miss Mason promptly. "I know no one of that -type--with a pointed beard, I mean."</p> - -<p>"Yet such a young man came out of the house, and held the policeman in -talk while his accomplice murdered this woman."</p> - -<p>"Were there two men, then?"</p> - -<p>"We think so," answered Derrick cautiously. "I presume, Miss Mason," -he added, "you have been to this house since Mrs. Fane left it?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly not."</p> - -<p>"But living so near--Meadow Lane is but a stone-throw away."</p> - -<p>"Quite so. All the same I had no reason to return here."</p> - -<p>"You live in this house?"</p> - -<p>"With my sister. Yes."</p> - -<p>"Then your things are here?"</p> - -<p>Laura looked hard at Derrick, trying to fathom his meaning. "I took -all needful things with me, as though I were going on a long journey, -Mr. Inspector. For nearly two weeks I have lived with Mrs. Baldwin, -and have not been in Achilles Avenue."</p> - -<p>"Have you not passed the house?"</p> - -<p>"I said that I had not been in Achilles Avenue," replied Laura.</p> - -<p>"Then you know nothing," said Derrick, obviously disappointed with the -result of his examination.</p> - -<p>"Absolutely nothing."</p> - -<p>The inspector nursed his chin, and thought with his eyes on the -ground. There was nothing else he could ask. Mr. Fane was the owner of -Ajax Villa, and as this unknown woman had been murdered therein, Mr. -Fane alone would be able to say how she had come by her death. In his -past life might be found the reason that the poor creature should be -so slain. "What did Mr. Fane do before he joined the firm?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing," replied Laura, rousing herself from her own thoughts; "he -is possessed of independent means and travelled a great deal. I -suppose he grew weary of so aimless a life. However, my sister -persuaded him to become a partner, which he did, after he married -her."</p> - -<p>"Hum!" said Derrick, not finding this reply threw any light on the -subject. Then he cast his eyes round the room. "This is a queer place, -Miss Mason. Mrs. Fane's idea?"</p> - -<p>"No. Mr. Fane furnished the house. My sister does not like this room. -It is too cold in its looks for her. Mr. Fane is fond of it. But the -whole house was furnished before Mr. Fane married."</p> - -<p>"For the marriage, I presume."</p> - -<p>"No. Mr. Fane lived here as a bachelor for six months before he -married my sister."</p> - -<p>"But no doubt the engagement lasted six months, and Mr. Fane furnished -the house as he thought your sister would like it."</p> - -<p>"He did not. Mr. Fane married my sister at the end of three months, -and before that he furnished the house according to his own taste."</p> - -<p>Derrick thought this strange. However, he did not ask any more -questions, as he felt that he had rather exceeded the limits of an -even official courtesy. "I am much obliged to you for replying so -frankly to my questions, Miss Mason," he said. "If I have been too -curious, the strange nature of this case must be my excuse. We will -now inspect the body."</p> - -<p>Laura's cheeks grew even paler than they were. But she made no -objection. Silently she followed the inspector, moving indifferently -through the house. Only when they arrived at the door of the -death-chamber did she draw back. "You have put the body into my room," -she said resentfully.</p> - -<p>"I am sorry," said Derrick, opening the door, "but of course I was -quite in ignorance."</p> - -<p>"I shall never be able to sleep in the room again," murmured Laura, -and passed through the door which Derrick held open.</p> - -<p>Out of delicacy the inspector did not enter with her. He remained -outside, thinking over what she had said. It seemed to him that Mr. -Fane had married very suddenly, and had taken his bride to a house -which had not been furnished for her. The house was too large for a -bachelor, and must have been intended for two. What if Fane had been -engaged to some one else, for whom the house was furnished, but the -engagement being broken, and married Miss Julia Mason so hurriedly. If -this were so, the house with its strange White Room which was not to -the present Mrs. Fane's taste must have been furnished for the unknown -woman. And perhaps the unknown woman was the poor soul who lay dead -within. Only Fane had the latch-key, only Fane could have admitted -her, and then--here Derrick broke off. He felt that he was taking too -much for granted; that he was building up a theory on unsubstantial -foundations. Until he saw Fane, and learned what kind of a man he was, -it was impossible to formulate any theory. Still, for his own -satisfaction, Derrick determined to ask Laura a few more questions. It -was at this moment she emerged, pale but composed.</p> - -<p>"I do not know the woman at all," she said, before he could speak.</p> - -<p>"You are quite sure?"</p> - -<p>"Perfectly. I never set eyes on her before. A pretty woman," added -Laura sadly, "and with quite a girlish face. I wonder what brought her -here to meet her death."</p> - -<p>"I wonder," said Derrick; "and who could have killed her?"</p> - -<p>"That is the mystery," sighed Laura, turning to go away.</p> - -<p>"It will not remain one long. Mr. Fane must know her, since only he -had the latch-key."</p> - -<p>"Yes. Only he has----" here Laura broke off and flashed an inquiring -look on the inspector. "Do you mean to say that my brother-in-law knows -something about this crime?"</p> - -<p>"If only he has the latch-key----"</p> - -<p>"You stated that this young man with a pointed beard met by your -policeman had a latch-key."</p> - -<p>"Yes. But has Mr. Fane a beard?"</p> - -<p>"A beard? No. He is clean-shaven."</p> - -<p>"He might have assumed a disguise."</p> - -<p>"How dare you hint at such a thing?" said Laura indignantly. "I am -quite sure that Mr. Fane knows nothing. Last night he was at -Westcliff-on-Sea, ill in bed. I can show you a wire. My sister knew -that I was going to her to-morrow, and she wired last night at five -o'clock saying that Walter was ill and that I had better not come."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" This statement took the inspector aback. If Fane had been ill at -Westcliff-on-Sea, he certainly could not be the man met by Mulligan. -"Can you show me the wire?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"I will send it round to you. And I am quite sure that when you see -Mr. Fane you will not suspect him of this crime. A better and more -kindly man does not live. However this woman came to enter the house, -however she was killed, and for what reason, Mr. Fane can know nothing -of the matter. How was she killed?"</p> - -<p>"Stabbed under the left shoulder-blade while she was singing."</p> - -<p>"Singing! What was she singing, and why in a strange house?"</p> - -<p>"She was singing 'Kathleen Mavourneen.'"</p> - -<p>Laura looked surprised. "My sister's favourite song."</p> - -<p>"Oh indeed," said Derrick sharply. He hesitated. "Your sister is also -at Westcliff-on-Sea?"</p> - -<p>"Are you about to accuse her?" asked Laura disdainfully.</p> - -<p>"I accuse no one," replied Derrick, nettled. "I am only trying in all -directions to learn facts upon which to build up a theory."</p> - -<p>"Then why don't you look for real evidence?"</p> - -<p>"Such as what, Miss Mason?"</p> - -<p>"Such as the weapon with which this woman was killed."</p> - -<p>"We have looked. It cannot be found. The murderer took it away. He -would not be such a fool as to leave that lying about. The doctor -fancies from the nature of the wound that it must be a long slim -dagger--a kind of stiletto."</p> - -<p>"Such as a foreigner might use," said Laura involuntarily.</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?" asked the inspector sharply.</p> - -<p>Laura flushed. "Nothing, nothing," she responded; "but foreigners -usually make use of such a weapon, don't they? An Englishman would not -kill a person with a stiletto."</p> - -<p>"It's not British, certainly," said Derrick, with insular prejudice; -"but a woman might use such a thing. Still, we do not know that the -assassin is a man or"--he looked straight at her--"a woman."</p> - -<p>Laura could not quite understand his meaning, since it never struck -her that he meant to incriminate her in the matter. She took no -notice, being anxious to learn what Derrick thought. "What is your -theory on existing facts?" she asked coldly.</p> - -<p>Derrick reflected. "I hardly know what to say. Let us suppose that the -woman admitted herself into the house. How she got the latch-key I am -not prepared to say. She came to meet some one--possibly the two -people who killed her."</p> - -<p>"The two people?" interrupted Laura abruptly.</p> - -<p>"There was the young man who kept Mulligan in talk," explained the -officer, "and the one who presumably killed her. Let us suppose, for -the sake of argument, that this woman met these two men. Seeing a -policeman at the gate, Number One goes out to lure him away. Left -alone with Number Two, the woman sits at the piano to sing. On the -music-stand is 'Kathleen Mavourneen.' She knows that song and sings -it. The assassin, standing behind her, watches his opportunity and -stabs her. Then he goes."</p> - -<p>"You forget that the song was being sung, according to your own -account, before Number One left the gate with the policeman."</p> - -<p>"Certainly. But the woman might have begun to sing immediately after -Number One left."</p> - -<p>"Before," insisted Laura. "The policeman listened while Number One was -in the room. It was the song that made him stop. I am only going by -what you told me. Your theory doesn't fit together."</p> - -<p>Derrick frowned. "It is hard to put the pieces of the puzzle together, -Miss Mason. Only in detective fiction does the heaven-born genius put -this and that together in a flash. I--a mere mortal--am groping in the -dark. I may discuss a hundred theories before I hit on the right -solution. Nothing more can be done till I see Mr. Fane. As the woman -was in his house, he must know----"</p> - -<p>"He knows nothing," interrupted Laura imperiously; "he can't know. The -man is ill at the seaside and----"</p> - -<p>Derrick interrupted in his turn. "I'll wait till I hear what Mr. Fane -has to say," he declared abruptly.</p> - -<p>He rose to terminate the interview. As he opened the door Tracey -entered hurriedly. "My car's found," he burst out.</p> - -<p>"Where?" asked Derrick and Laura together.</p> - -<p>"Stranded in the yard of Charing Cross Station."</p> - -<p>Laura turned quickly on Derrick. "I beg you to observe, Mr. Inspector, -that you cannot get to Westcliff-on-Sea from Charing Cross."</p> - -<p>"I have not yet accused Mr. Fane," retorted the inspector.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER V</h4> - -<h5><a name="div1_05" href="#div1Ref_05">PUBLIC OPINION</a></h5> -<br> - -<p>Naturally there was great excitement over "The White Room Crime," as -it soon came to be called. The inhabitants of Troy were shocked, as -such a thing had never before happened in their locality. They found -their holy quiet invaded by a host of reporters, detectives, -policemen, idlers, and morbid folk who wished for new sensations. Mr. -and Mrs. Fane left their child at the seaside and came up for the -inquest, which was held at a quiet public-house in the neighbourhood. -Fane insisted that the body should be taken away from Ajax Villa.</p> - -<p>"It should have been removed at once," he declared. "I don't know the -woman. I never set eyes on her. My wife doesn't know her, and I can't -conceive how she came to die in my place."</p> - -<p>"Do you alone own the latch-key?"</p> - -<p>It was Derrick who asked this question, and he eyed Fane sharply as -the reply came.</p> - -<p>"I alone own the latch-key of my house," said Fane; "it is a peculiar -lock. No other key but mine will fit it. See!" He produced a long slim -key, upon which Derrick, unlocking a drawer, took out of it the key -picked up by Mulligan. The two were identical in all respects. "You -see," said Derrick in his turn, "a duplicate has been made. I noticed -that the strange key was new when Mulligan showed it."</p> - -<p>"Where did you get this key?"</p> - -<p>"The young man who lured Mulligan away from the gate dropped it."</p> - -<p>"Very strange," said Fane in a puzzled tone. "I can't understand. I -don't think the locksmith who made me my key can have made two, as I -especially agreed with him that he was not to do so."</p> - -<p>"Have you his address?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. It is at my office in the city. I will give it to you. But I am -sure the man is to be trusted. A most respectable tradesman."</p> - -<p>"Hum," said Derrick, scratching his chin. "Respectable tradesmen do -queer things for money at times."</p> - -<p>"But why should this strange woman have been brought to this house--my -house--to be murdered?"</p> - -<p>"I can't say. That is what we have to find out. You don't know this -woman?" asked Derrick doubtfully.</p> - -<p>Fane was a smart, cheery-faced fellow with rather a weak mouth. He -looked rather haggard, as he had practically risen from a sick-bed to -obey the summons of the law. For the moment he appeared puzzled when -Derrick spoke. Then he flashed an indignant look on him, and grew red. -"Do you mean to insinuate that I did something underhand, Mr. -Inspector?" he inquired excitedly.</p> - -<p>"Men admire pretty women," said Derrick dryly.</p> - -<p>"I do, like all men. At the same time I am faithful to my wife, whom I -love very dearly. We are a most attached couple. And if you hint at -anything wrong, sir, let me tell you that I was ill with a cold at the -seaside when this crime was perpetrated. Also, had I been in town--had -I known this woman--I certainly should not have brought her to my own -house."</p> - -<p>"No! no! quite so," said Derrick soothingly. "I don't mean to hint for -a moment that your character is not spotless. But this key, sir. Has -it ever been out of your possession?"</p> - -<p>"Never! I carry it, as you see, on a steel chain. It comes off at -night and goes on in the morning. Only my wife could have had it in -her possession. You are not going to accuse her of taking an -impression, are you?" asked Fane scathingly.</p> - -<p>"Does Mrs. Fane know the woman?" asked Derrick, passing over this -ironical speech.</p> - -<p>"No. She never set eyes on her. No one knows who the woman is."</p> - -<p>"Strange! Strange! I wonder why she should be killed in your house?"</p> - -<p>"Don't you know her name?" asked Fane.</p> - -<p>"No. There is no mark on her linen; no cards or letters in her pocket. -She came out of the darkness into your house, and has been swallowed -up by the darkness of the grave. We know no more. At the inquest -something may transpire."</p> - -<p>"I sincerely hope so," said Fane bluntly. "The whole thing is most -disagreeable. I shall have to give up Ajax Villa. My wife is quite -upset. The affair will put me to great expense. Good-day."</p> - -<p>"One moment. Do you know a young man with a pointed beard?"</p> - -<p>"Not that I can recall," replied Fane after a pause. "But of course I -may have met such a person."</p> - -<p>"Well"--Derrick gave up his questions in despair--"we must wait for -the inquest."</p> - -<p>But here a fresh disappointment awaited him. Nothing came to light at -the inquest likely to throw light on the mystery. Geason proved that -the unknown woman had been stabbed from behind and had died almost -immediately. He was positive that she had been dead five hours when he -was called in. If this were so, the woman who sang the song could not -be the dead one. Nor could the young man who entered into conversation -with Mulligan have been sent to lure him away so that the murder might -take place. When the young man came out of the house the woman must -have been dead three hours. The doctor firmly held to this opinion, -and thereby perplexed the jury and upset the theories of Derrick.</p> - -<p>Various were the opinions given by those present during the interview. -Some thought this, some that, and every one had his own pet solution -of the mystery. But the evidence was scanty. Both Mr. and Mrs. Fane -stated that they knew nothing of the woman. The husband insisted that -the latch-key had never been out of his possession, and the wife -asserted that he had been sick in bed miles away at the time the crime -was committed. Mulligan described his meeting with the strange young -man and the conversation which had ensued; also his discovery of the -body, and how he had entered the house. All inquiries on the part of -the police failed to prove the identity of the dead. Tracey stated how -he had missed his motor-car, and evidence was forthcoming to show that -it had been left in the Charing Cross yard. But no one seemed to know -who had brought it there. The result of this crop of scanty facts was -obvious. The jury brought in a verdict against some person or persons -unknown.</p> - -<p>"It's the only thing to be said," said Derrick to Fane when the crowd -dispersed. "The woman is dead, and she must be buried. That cost will -fall on the parish."</p> - -<p>"No," replied Fane, who did not seem to be an unkindly man. "The poor -creature died in my house, so I will charge myself with her burial. I -have consulted Mrs. Fane, and she thinks as I do."</p> - -<p>"But you know nothing about her."</p> - -<p>"That is true. However, if you make inquiries, you may learn."</p> - -<p>The inspector shook his head. "I fear not; I don't know where to look. -It is a kind thought of you to bury her, Mr. Fane. Not many men would -do that in your place after the trouble you have had."</p> - -<p>"It's the least I can do, seeing she was murdered under my roof. But -you may hear who she is. Why not advertise?"</p> - -<p>"That has been done. Handbills have been placed round describing her -looks, and with a picture. Orders have been sent throughout London to -the police to keep their eyes open. I doubt if anything will come of -the hunt though."</p> - -<p>"Surely," said Fane, wrinkling his brows, "a woman can't disappear -like this in London?"</p> - -<p>"London is the very place where people disappear," retorted Derrick. -"Those who live in this big city never know how many people vanish -yearly and are never heard of again. In this case we have the body of -the woman, but who she was, where she came from, and why she was -murdered in your house, will probably never be known."</p> - -<p>"Well," said Fane, with the air of a man dismissing the subject, "if -you do intend to make inquiries, please keep me advised of your -discoveries. I should like to know how the woman entered the house. I -believe you saw my locksmith?"</p> - -<p>"I did. He swears positively that he did not make a duplicate key. -More than that, he has not a duplicate of the one he made you."</p> - -<p>Fane looked doubtful. "I should have thought he would have retained a -copy for trade purposes. Suppose I lost the key----"</p> - -<p>"He would not have been able to make you another, Mr. Fane. However, I -am keeping an eye on him. He may be lying for his own ends. One never -knows, and I always mistrust respectable men."</p> - -<p>"From what my sister-in-law told me, Mr. Derrick, you were inclined to -mistrust me."</p> - -<p>Derrick coughed. "The case is so strange," said he; "but I am now -quite sure that you had nothing to do with the matter."</p> - -<p>"Thank you for nothing," said Fane dryly. "It is lucky that with the -assistance of my wife I was able to prove an alibi."</p> - -<p>"Very lucky indeed," replied the inspector cheerfully. "Had you been -in town that night, and unable to explain your comings and goings, it -might have gone hard with you."</p> - -<p>"Do you mean to say----"</p> - -<p>"Nothing--absolutely nothing. But see here, Mr. Fane; put yourself in -my place, in the place of any man. A woman gains admittance to your -house and there is murdered. You alone have the key. On the face of -it, does not that look as though you alone killed her, else, why the -use of your key to let her enter the house? It is lucky for you, as -you say, that in full open court, and in the ears of all men, you were -able to prove an alibi, else nine out of ten would have suspected you -of knowing more than you stated."</p> - -<p>"I said all I knew."</p> - -<p>"I am sure of that, sir; and you proved--with the assistance of Mrs. -Fane--your innocence. As they say, you leave the court without a -stain. All the same, the case is strange. For my part, pending the -discovery of the young man who dropped the key, I shall hunt for the -woman. In her past life will be found the explanation of her death. I -shall let you know how I get on, but I must ask you to also keep me -advised of what you see and hear."</p> - -<p>Fane shrugged his shoulders and took out a cigar. "I shall take no -further steps in the matter. Once this woman is buried, and I have -left Ajax Villa, the thing will be relegated to obscurity so far as I -am concerned."</p> - -<p>"Well," said Derrick, with a side look, "perhaps that's natural."</p> - -<p>He then said good-bye to Fane, and went away thoughtfully. Derrick was -not a particularly brilliant mortal, as his conduct of the case shows. -As the saying goes, he could not see further than his nose. But he -certainly wondered in his own mind, if despite the evidence of Mrs. -Fane, her husband might not have something to do with the matter. To -save his life, to keep him from shame, she might have kept silence. -"But it's impossible," said Derrick aloud. "If he was guilty, she -would not lie. If the victim had been a man now. But as it was a -woman, a jealous creature like Mrs. Fane would certainly not sacrifice -herself to save a man who deceived her. No; Fane is guiltless. But who -is the culprit? That's the question." And it was a question which -Derrick could not answer, though he tried to do so in his blundering -way.</p> - -<p>So the unknown woman was duly buried. Tracey and Fane went to the -funeral, and the body was followed by a large concourse of those who -wished to see the last of the victim of this mysterious tragedy. Every -one agreed that Fane was behaving very well in thus giving the poor -wretch decent burial. Fane looked white and worn when the grave was -being filled in, and the rumour went round of how ill he had been, and -how he had come up from a sick-bed to see this matter through. Several -people shook hands with him as he left the cemetery, and he was -congratulated on all hands. Then the gates of the burial-ground were -closed, and the grave was left to the rain and the sunshine. For all -any one present knew, its secret would not be delivered up until the -Judgment-day.</p> - -<p>It was the press that said the last word on the subject. The <i>Daily -Budget</i>, always in search of the sensational, thought the affair -strange enough to give it the honour of a leading article. As many -people may remember the perplexity of police and public in connection -with this murder, it may not be uninteresting to give an extract or -two from the article.</p> - -<p>"The inexplicable murder in Troy is one of those crimes which at once -startle and shock the public. That a woman should be done to death in -this manner is bad enough, but that with our wonderful police -organisation, her identity should remain a mystery is nothing less -than a scandal and a shame. If the houses of law-abiding citizens are -to be made the shambles for unknown assassins, the sooner the police -force is reorganised the better. And again, is it not disgraceful that -nothing can be found likely to prove who this poor creature is? Have -we not newspapers and agents and handbills and all the paraphernalia -of civilisation for the detection of the unknown? Search should be -made in the most minute manner in order to prove who this dead woman -is. Once her name is discovered, in her past life may be found the -reason of her untimely and tragic death. This is the opinion of -Inspector Derrick, who has handled the case, with all its strange -elements of mystery, with but an indifferent degree of success. Not -but what we are prepared to admit that the case is remarkably -difficult and would tax the intellect of a Vidocq to unravel.</p> - -<p>"It would seem that the woman went to the house between eight and nine -o'clock, and was murdered shortly after she entered the door. -Certainly she was seated at the piano, and certainly the song of -'Kathleen Mavourneen' was open before her. But we are sure that she -never sang the song. While waiting for some one--perhaps the assassin -who struck her down--she may have played for a time. But the woman who -sang the song did so some three hours after the death of the -unfortunate creature. Mulligan swore that he heard the song about -eleven; the doctor declares that the woman was murdered before nine -o'clock. On the face of it, it is impossible to reconcile this -conflicting evidence.</p> - -<p>"No one saw the woman enter the house, although many people were -about Achilles Avenue during the evening. But in the multitude of -people--especially on a Saturday night--would lie the chance of the -woman not being observed. Few people knew that Mr. Fane and his -family--one little girl--were at the seaside; so even if any one had -noticed the woman enter the gate of Ajax Villa such a thing would not -be fixed in the mind of the observer. All inquiries have been made, -but no one appears to have noted the woman's coming. It is therefore -impossible to say if she entered the house alone or in the company of -the assassin.</p> - -<p>"And with regard to the assassin. We are inclined to think he is a -man--and that man who spoke to the policeman at eleven o'clock. It -might be, that gaining admittance by his latch-key with the woman, he -killed her almost immediately he entered, and then watched his chance -of escape. That he entered the house with the woman appears clear. We -stated above that it is impossible to say if the woman entered the -house alone. By this we mean that the man may have come earlier, and -may have admitted her before nine o'clock. The poor creature walked -into a death-trap. Taking her to the White Room, he lured her to sit -down at the piano, which would give him an opportunity of standing -behind her to stab her unawares. Then when she was dead, he probably -looked out of the window to see how he could escape. Fear evidently -kept him within till nearly eleven o'clock. Then he saw the policeman -passing, and then he sang the song to make the man believe a woman was -singing. Afterwards, when he had lulled any suspicions the policeman -may have entertained, he came out and escaped in the manner described. -This is our theory. The singer is described by Mulligan--a remarkably -intelligent officer--as having a deep contralto voice; so it is -probable the assassin sang in falsetto. That the man killed the woman -and thus escaped, we are sure; for only he having the latch-key could -have admitted her, and only he could have a reason to lure her into -the house. What that reason may be, must remain for ever a mystery."</p> - -<p>So far the <i>Daily Budget</i> with its gimcrack theory. A rival newspaper -promptly set to work to pick holes in the case as presented by the -paper. This rival journal, the <i>Star of Morning</i>, commented as -follows:</p> - -<p>"Our respected contemporary goes too fast. Evidence was given -clearly by Mulligan that the song was being sung while the presumed -assassin--in the <i>Daily Budget's</i> opinion--was in conversation with -him at the gate. Therefore the young man with the pointed beard could -not have sung 'Kathleen Mavourneen' in falsetto. The theory is -amusing, but it won't hold water. Our belief is quite different, and -we think more real.</p> - -<p>"In the first place, we think that the young man was the person who -admitted the women into the house. So far we agree with our -contemporary. We say 'women,' because we believe there were two -people, the victim and another woman. These two women came to the -house either in the company of the young man or by themselves. In any -case, he admitted them, since, however he obtained it, he alone -possessed the latch-key, and was thus enabled to enter the deserted -house. Once in the White Room, and the victim lured to the -piano--again we agree--she was murdered. The two assassins--for both -the man and the woman are equally guilty, though we are not prepared -to say who actually struck the blow--then watched their opportunity to -escape. It is a marvel that they should have remained three hours in -the house, perhaps in the room, after the crime was committed. They -arrived unseen along with their victim, so it is natural to think that -they would have escaped from the house as soon as possible, positive -that they would not be suspected. But guilt makes cowards of every -one, and it made cowards of these two. They waited in the room, -watching the gradual desertion of Achilles Avenue. About eleven they -decided to venture. Then the policeman appears. Doubtless to save -appearances, the woman sang. The man looking out, went away to lure -the policeman. He did so, and then the woman escaped. She saw Mr. -Tracey's motor-car standing unwatched at a gate, and forthwith used it -to fly, fearful lest she should be followed. If she went straight to -Charing Cross she must have arrived about half-past eleven. In the -crowd in the yard on a Saturday night, with cabs and other vehicles -coming and going, she would easily be able to draw up her car in a -quiet corner. No one seems to have noticed her, and women driving -motors is such a common spectacle now that no one would remark on the -circumstance. We think that the woman then entered the station and -left London. She may have escaped to the continent; she may have gone -merely to a suburb. At all events, all trace of her is lost, and the -deserted car was noted some hours later.</p> - -<p>"This is our theory, and we think it is a more feasible one than that -offered by our contemporary. As Mr. Fane is ignorant of the name of -the deceased, it is inexplicable how she came to meet with her tragic -death in his house. All the servants of Mr. Fane were at the seaside -along with their master and mistress, so no blame can possibly be -attached to them. Mr. Fane himself was ill in bed at Westcliff-on-Sea, -so he can know nothing. He positively asserts that he alone possessed -the latch-key, and the locksmith from whom he obtained it, declares -that no duplicate was made. This is not the least strange element in -this case. One thing we would draw our readers' attention to--the -decoration of the room in which the murder was perpetrated. It was all -white, and the black dress of the corpse must have formed a strange -contrast to the snowy desert around when the poor creature was -discovered by Mulligan. Quite a picturesque murder! Mr. Fane seems to -be a gentleman with an original turn for furnishing to possess such a -room, and the crime adds to its romance. And the secret of this murder -will never be discovered. Why the woman should be stabbed, why she -should have been lured to that strange room to be killed, how the -assassins obtained possession of the latch-key--these things must -remain for ever a mystery. But we are convinced that the crime was -committed by a man and a woman, and we have given our reason."</p> - -<p>To this statement--a purely theoretical one--the <i>Daily Budget</i> -retorted in a short paragraph.</p> - -<p>"We will merely ask our clever contemporary one question. 'If the -woman assassin thus invented was singing at the piano before the -policeman leaned over the gate, what opportunity had she and the young -man to concert their scheme of escape?'"</p> - -<p>To this demand there came no reply, and the press ceased to comment on -the crime. The murder at Ajax Villa was relegated to the catalogue of -unknown crimes for quite two weeks. Then a strange thing came to -light.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER VI</h4> - -<h5><a name="div1_06" href="#div1Ref_06">A STRANGE DISCOVERY</a></h5> -<br> - -<p>"You will have to make up your mind what you intend to do, my dear," -said Mrs. Fane to her sister, "for I may tell you that Walter and I -have arranged to make a change."</p> - -<p>"In what way?" asked Laura, looking up from her sewing.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Fane did not answer directly. She looked round the cosy -morning-room, with rather a wistful expression. It was a very charming -room, decorated in the fashion of a quaint, old parlour. In such an -apartment might Jane Austen's heroines have sat, and the two ladies in -modern dresses looked rather out of place. Mrs. Fane was tall and -statuesque, with a placid, firm face, beautiful but cold. Her eyes -were calm; she had none of those wrinkles which show the indulgence of -emotion, and an earthquake would have failed to upset her eternal -self-possession. Occupied in knitting a fleecy shawl, she scarcely -lifted her eyes as she spoke, but continued to work placidly, never -dropping a single stitch. There never was a woman who had herself so -much under control as Mrs. Fane. Laura often wondered how she came to -marry an excitable, vivacious man like Walter. But perhaps the -exception to the law that like draws to like drew them together, and -Mrs. Fane found in her husband, whose nature was so totally opposed to -her own, the complement of herself.</p> - -<p>The sisters resembled one another very little: Mrs. Fane was dark and -tall, Laura slight and fair. Laura laughed when she was amused, showed -anger when she felt it, and indulged unrestrained in her emotions, -though she never exceeded them. She was as open in her disposition as -Mrs. Fane was secretive. A glance would reveal Laura's thoughts, but -no scrutiny would show what Mrs. Fane had in her mind. Both of them -were plainly dressed, but Laura indulged in a few more trimmings than -her sister. Mrs. Fane might have been a lady abbess, from the severity -of her black garb. And a very good abbess she would have made, only -the nuns under her charge would have been controlled with a rod of -iron. She had no weaknesses herself, and had no patience with them in -others. Not even pain appealed to her, for she had never been ill. -Toothache was unknown to her; headaches she had never experienced; and -she seemed to move amongst less favoured mortals like a goddess, -majestic, unfeeling, and far removed from the engaging weaknesses of -human nature. Mrs. Fane, by reason of this abnormal severity, was not -popular.</p> - -<p>To make a happy marriage, either the man or the woman must rule. If -both have strong wills, separation or divorce is the only remedy to -avert an unhappy life. If the man is strong, he controls the woman; if -the woman has the will, she guides the man; and thus with no divided -kingdom, the domestic life can be fairly happy, in some cases -completely so.</p> - -<p>When Mrs. Fane--Julia Mason she was then--determined to marry Walter, -she also determined to have her own way. He was as weak as she was -strong, therefore he did exactly as she ordered him. But she always -gave him the outward rule, and, so to speak, only instructed him -behind the scenes how he was to act on the stage of the world. People -said that Mr. and Mrs. Fane were a happy pair, but they never knew the -real reason of such happiness. Mrs. Fane concealed the iron hand in a -velvet glove. Occasionally Walter proved restive, but she always -managed by a quiet determination to bring him again into subjection. -It may also be stated that she cherished a secret contempt that he -should thus give in to her, although such yielding formed the basis of -her ideal marriage. Only Laura knew how Mrs. Fane despised her -husband; but since she was living with the pair, she was wise enough -to keep this knowledge secret. Otherwise, Mrs. Fane would have made -herself disagreeable, and she had a large capacity for rendering the -house too hot for any one she disliked. Witness the expulsion of two -servants who had served Fane when he was a bachelor, and who were -discharged in the most polite way two months after Mrs. Fane came to -live at Ajax Villa.</p> - -<p>This domestic Boadicea looked round the room vaguely, and then brought -her eyes back to the pretty, anxious face of Laura. She had a poor -opinion of Laura, and always strove to impose her will on her. But -Laura had her own ideas of life, and resented Julia's interference. -There was but little love between the sisters, and this was entirely -due to Julia's domineering temper. Not that the two ever fought. Mrs. -Fane would not fight. She simply held out till she got her own way, -and thus was usually successful with Walter. But Laura, made of -sterner stuff, managed to hold her own, a firm quality which annoyed -Julia, who liked people to grovel at her feet. She was a domestic -tyrant of the worst.</p> - -<p>Outside the sun was shining, and its rays penetrated even into the -room. Mrs. Fane sat in a flood of gold, but was as unwarmed thereby as -the statue of a goddess. Even the tragedy which had happened lately -left but few traces of annoyance on her placid brow. Now that the -unknown woman was buried, and the papers had ceased to interest -themselves in the matter, she apparently dismissed it from her mind. -Secretly she was annoyed with Laura because the girl had insisted on -changing her bedroom. "I am not going to sleep in a room in which that -body was laid out," said Laura. And it was on this hint that Mrs. Fane -framed her reply.</p> - -<p>"I wonder at you asking in what way we intend to make a change," she -said in her cold voice, "seeing that you changed your room."</p> - -<p>"Oh; you find the villa disagreeable after this tragedy?"</p> - -<p>"I do not. So far as I am concerned, I should not mind living here for -the rest of my days. I like the house and the neighbourhood, and -especially do I like the White Room----"</p> - -<p>"The very place where the poor creature was killed said Laura, with a -shudder, which made Mrs. Fane smile.</p> - -<p>"My dear, what does that matter? Death is death, however it comes, as -you ought to know. If a murder took place in every room in the house I -should not mind."</p> - -<p>"Would you like it to take place in the nursery?" asked Laura.</p> - -<p>Here she touched Mrs. Fane on a raw spot. If there was one thing the -self-possessed woman loved it was her little daughter. That she was -annoyed showed itself by the slight flush which crimsoned her face.</p> - -<p>"You shouldn't say such things, my dear," she said in icy tones; "of -course I except the nursery. An atmosphere of crime would not be -conducive to the health of Minnie. But as I was saying, Walter wishes -to give up the house."</p> - -<p>"You said nothing of the sort," said Laura, irritated.</p> - -<p>"I say it now, then. Walter wishes to go abroad."</p> - -<p>"What about the business?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Fane raised her perfectly marked eyebrows. "Well, what about it, -Laura? You know Walter is often away for weeks yachting. Times and -seasons make no difference to him, so far as his love of the sea is -concerned. Frederick says"--Frederick Mason was her brother--"that -Walter is of very little use in the office."</p> - -<p>"I wonder he keeps him, then," said Laura.</p> - -<p>"There is no question of keeping," replied Mrs. Fane serenely; "you -speak of Walter as though he were an office-boy. He is a partner, -remember, and I do his business for him."</p> - -<p>"I don't quite understand."</p> - -<p>"It's very simple, Laura. Walter, as you know, brought very little -money into the business. He seems to have spent what he had, or the -greater part, in furnishing this house for me."</p> - -<p>"It was furnished before you and he became engaged."</p> - -<p>"That is true. But I saw what was coming a long time before Walter -asked me to be his wife. He hinted that he was furnishing a house -here, and how he was spending money on it. I then knew that he -intended to make me his wife, and I determined to accept him. Not that -I loved him over much," added Mrs. Fane quietly, "but I was anxious to -have a say in the business. Frederick is a fool; and unless the -business is looked after, it will go to ruin. As the wife of one of -the partners, I am able to take a part in the conduct of the -business."</p> - -<p>"You could have done so without marrying," said Laura.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Fane shook her head.</p> - -<p>"No. Father left you an income of five hundred a year, but he left me -much more, because he knew that I would make good use of it. The money -which came to me, and your principal, were not invested in the -business. I asked Frederick to let me become his partner. He refused. -Then I engaged myself to Walter, who became a partner with my money. -Frederick is willing, seeing that Walter is not a good business man, -to let me act for my husband. I dare say he could have permitted this -without the marriage, but he would not for some reason. However, you -know now why I married Walter. Besides, Walter is a fool, and I wished -to have a weak husband, so that I might control him."</p> - -<p>"Was there no love at all in the marriage?"</p> - -<p>"Well, my dear"--Mrs. Fane laughed--"I must confess that Walter is -very good-looking, and that I should be jealous of his attention to -any other woman. Are you answered?"</p> - -<p>"Yes--so far as the love is concerned. But I don't understand how -Walter can go abroad and leave the business."</p> - -<p>"He is not much use. I can look after it for him, as I have always -done. Do you think I should let Walter go away yachting if I did not -like a free hand? He is happy on the sea, and I am happy in the -counting-house, so all is well. This villa has become objectionable to -Walter on account of the murder, so we intend to give it up. Probably -we shall move to a French watering-place or to Switzerland. Walter can -enjoy himself in his usual way, and I can run over when needful to -attend to the business."</p> - -<p>"I understand. But if you make your home in Switzerland, you will be -far from London. Also, Walter will not be able to yacht."</p> - -<p>"True enough. We shall see. I must be near England, so that I can run -across rapidly, and Walter must be near the sea, for his beloved boat. -If I allow Frederick to conduct the business without help, I am sure -he will ruin it and me too."</p> - -<p>"I wonder you like Walter to remain away for so long, Julia."</p> - -<p>"My dear, I have perfect confidence in him."</p> - -<p>"But if you loved him----"</p> - -<p>"I would keep him by me. Well, I do love him in a way, though he is -too weak to command my respect. But Walter is one of those -demonstrative men who are a nuisance to a woman of my temperament. He -wants to kiss and caress all day long. I find that trying, so I prefer -him to go away occasionally. And now you know what we intend to do, -what about yourself?"</p> - -<p>"Am I not to go with you?"</p> - -<p>"If you like. But you are getting older, and, I must confess, that as -you have an income of your own, I think you should have a home."</p> - -<p>"I see"--Laura looked directly at her sister--"you wish to get rid of -me."</p> - -<p>"Oh no," replied Mrs. Fane in quite a conventional way; "you are a -very good companion for Walter, and he is fond of you in his weak way. -As you don't trouble me, I shall be pleased to have you with us -abroad. But I think it right to give you the choice."</p> - -<p>"Of going with you as the fifth wheel on the chariot----"</p> - -<p>"Or marrying," said Mrs. Fane calmly--"yes. That is what I mean."</p> - -<p>"Suppose I do neither. I have my own money. I might go and live with -Gerty Baldwin."</p> - -<p>"You might," assented the elder sister, "if you like to live in a -pig-sty with that lymphatic woman, who is more like a jelly than a -human being."</p> - -<p>"There's no harm in her," protested Laura.</p> - -<p>"Nor is there in a pig. But I don't care to live with a pig. As to -Gerty Baldwin, she is a fast young minx, engaged to a vulgarian."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Tracey is a kindhearted man."</p> - -<p>"But vulgar. And Gerty?"</p> - -<p>"The dearest girl in the world."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Fane again lifted her eyebrows.</p> - -<p>"I confess I don't care for people of that sort."</p> - -<p>"Do you care for any one but yourself?" asked Laura bitterly.</p> - -<p>"I care for Minnie, and a little for Walter," said Mrs. Fane, "but the -ordinary human being does not seem worthy of being liked."</p> - -<p>"You condemn the world as though you were its judge and not its -denizen," said Laura, with a curled lip and flashing eyes. "Julia, you -were always a hard woman. Your nature is like our father's."</p> - -<p>"Quite so, and for that reason he left me most of the money. You and -Frederick take after our late mother. A kind woman, but so weak! Oh, -dear me," sighed Mrs. Fane; "how very weak!"</p> - -<p>"Laura felt inclined to walk out of the room. But she knew that such -behaviour would result in nothing. Mrs. Fane would show no anger, but -would simply attack Laura on the subject uppermost in her mind when -they again met. The subject was Laura's future, so the girl thought it -best to bring the matter to an issue.</p> - -<p>"Does all this mean that you withdraw your opposition to my marriage -with Arnold?"</p> - -<p>"No. I still think the match is a bad one. But if you are determined -to commit social suicide, I will not hinder you. Down at Westcliff I -considered the matter, and resolved to tell you this when I returned. -Of course this murder brings the matter still more to the front, since -it makes us give up the villa. You must decide whether to come with -us, or to marry Mr. Calvert, and take your own life on your own -shoulders."</p> - -<p>"We can settle that later. When do you go?"</p> - -<p>"In three or four months. We have to get rid of the lease of the -villa, you see, and there are other things to be considered. Have you -accepted Mr. Calvert's hand?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. We are engaged."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Fane shrugged her ample shoulders.</p> - -<p>"Fancy marrying an actor, and a mediocre actor at that! Why, the man -can't keep you."</p> - -<p>"I have money enough for us both."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I am quite sure that he will live on you, my dear. Why hasn't he -been to see you lately?"</p> - -<p>Laura rose to her feet.</p> - -<p>"Because I asked him not to come," she said distinctly. "You have been -so disagreeable to him that, for the sake of peace, I thought it best -he should not visit me."</p> - -<p>"You saw him when you were at the Baldwins'?"</p> - -<p>"Several times."</p> - -<p>"Oh indeed!" sneered Mrs. Fane; "and when do you marry?"</p> - -<p>"When we choose. Arnold is an actor and----"</p> - -<p>"A perfect stick," said Mrs. Fane derisively.</p> - -<p>"A fine actor, as every one acknowledges. He will make his mark."</p> - -<p>"There are few signs of it at present. Just now he is acting in this -new play at the Frivolity Theatre. A secondary part!"</p> - -<p>"He has the leading comedy part," said Laura angrily. "Julia, why will -you annoy me?"</p> - -<p>"My dear, I don't. It's your own bad temper. You never will face the -truth. However, I have placed matters before you, so you can take time -and decide your future course."</p> - -<p>"I won't go abroad with you, Julia. We should only quarrel."</p> - -<p>"Oh dear me, no! I never quarrel. People--you included--are too weak -to quarrel with. However, it's decided you won't come?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. I shall live with the Baldwins."</p> - -<p>"I wish you joy! But recollect, if you marry this actor, I refuse to -come to the wedding."</p> - -<p>"You had better wait till you are asked," said Laura rather weakly, -and left the room, fearful what she might say next. The last words she -heard from Julia were an admonition to keep her temper.</p> - -<p>At first Laura intended to go to her own room, but hearing voices in -the White Room she peered in. To her surprise, she saw Arnold seated -with Walter Fane. When they saw her, Arnold rose quickly and came -forward.</p> - -<p>"My dearest, how glad I am you have come!"</p> - -<p>"Why didn't you send for me?" said Laura, as he kissed her.</p> - -<p>"I asked him not to," interposed Walter uneasily. "Julia was with you, -and she would have come also. I don't feel well enough for Julia's -preaching at present," he said, passing his hand across his brow; "this -murder has upset me."</p> - -<p>"Have you heard about it, Arnold?" asked Laura, looking at her lover -in a searching manner.</p> - -<p>"Yes," he replied calmly, and evidently prepared for the question. "And -I should have come before to see you, but that you told me not to."</p> - -<p>"You haven't been here for a long time," said Walter wearily.</p> - -<p>"Not since you left for the seaside. But I saw Laura at the Baldwins' -a week ago. Laura, you are not going?"</p> - -<p>Miss Mason, who had changed colour while her lover was speaking, and -had not taken her eyes from his face, was by this time half-way to the -door.</p> - -<p>"I must go," she said rapidly. "I have something to do. I shall see -you again."</p> - -<p>"When?" asked Calvert, detaining her at the door.</p> - -<p>"I shall write and let you know," said Laura, and abruptly withdrawing -her hand from his, she escaped.</p> - -<p>Arnold returned to his seat near Fane with a puzzled expression.</p> - -<p>"What is the matter?" he asked, and there was an apprehensive look in -his eyes.</p> - -<p>Fane also looked nervous, but that was scarcely to be wondered at, -considering the late events.</p> - -<p>"I suppose Julia has been going on at her about you," he said -fretfully. "I wish you'd marry her right away and take her from Julia. -Poor Laura has a bad time."</p> - -<p>"I am not in a position to do so now," said Calvert gloomily; "things -are bad with me. This play has not been a success, and I'll be out of -an engagement soon."</p> - -<p>"Laura has money for you both," said Fane.</p> - -<p>Arnold flushed to the roots of his fair hair.</p> - -<p>"I do not intend to live on my wife," he said sharply. "Until I can -keep her in the style to which she has been accustomed, I will not -marry her."</p> - -<p>Fane laughed rather weakly.</p> - -<p>"As things stand at present there is not much chance of your becoming -a wealthy man," he said.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps. And yet I don't know. I may come in for money."</p> - -<p>"Really!" said Walter with interest; "some relative?"</p> - -<p>Arnold nodded. "A cousin on my mother's side. A man called Brand."</p> - -<p>Fane, who had been listening quietly, started from his seat.</p> - -<p>"What!"</p> - -<p>"A man called Brand. He lives in Australia, and is very rich. I think -the money will come to me, or to a cousin of mine--a woman."</p> - -<p>Fane was quiet again by this time. "I knew a man called Brand once. He -was a scoundrel who cheated me out of a lot of money. A young man he -was, with green eyes."</p> - -<p>"Can't be any relative of mine," said Calvert. "I never saw my cousin -in Australia, but he looks a kindly man from his portrait. Not at all -the sort to have green eyes. As to Flora's eyes, they are brown."</p> - -<p>"Flora," said Fane idly; "what a pretty name! Who is she?"</p> - -<p>"The cousin I told you of. The money may come to her. She lives at -Hampstead, but I have never been to her house."</p> - -<p>"How is that?"</p> - -<p>"I only became aware of her existence some months ago," said Arnold -lightly. "We met by chance, and--but it's a long story. But we learned -that we were relations, and I promised to call."</p> - -<p>"But you didn't?"</p> - -<p>"No. Something always came in the way. But I dare say if Flora came in -for the money she would help me. I might chuck the stage, and get a -start--read for the bar, perhaps. Then I could marry Laura."</p> - -<p>"Have you any capabilities for the bar?" asked Fane. "For instance, -what do you think of this murder?"</p> - -<p>Arnold threw up his hand.</p> - -<p>"Don't ask me," he said abruptly; "I have heard nothing else discussed -but that murder for days. I am perfectly sick of it. What is your -opinion?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know--I haven't one. The whole thing is a mystery to me. All -I know is that the death in this room has so sickened me, that I -intend to give up the villa and go abroad to Switzerland."</p> - -<p>"An inland place. That will rather interfere with your yachting."</p> - -<p>"Before Fane could answer, the door opened, and Mrs. Fane, serene as -ever, entered with an evening paper in her hand. She started a trifle -when she saw Arnold, but bowed gracefully.</p> - -<p>"So pleased to see you," she said with conventional falseness. "I must -send Laura to you. She is dying to see you."</p> - -<p>"I have seen her, Mrs. Fane. I am now going away."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" Mrs. Fane smiled agreeably. "You have quarrelled."</p> - -<p>"No, but----"</p> - -<p>"Never mind--never mind!" interrupted Walter irritably. "What is the -matter, Julia?"</p> - -<p>"She laid her cool hand on his head.</p> - -<p>"How hot your brow is," she said soothingly. "You have never been -yourself since this horrid murder."</p> - -<p>"We agreed not to talk of it again," said Fane, moving his head from -under her hand.</p> - -<p>"I fear we must," said his wife, sitting down. "Don't go, Mr. Calvert. -This is no secret. Merely a paragraph in the paper."</p> - -<p>"Have they found out anything?" asked Arnold quietly.</p> - -<p>"Well, it seems to be a sort of a clue. This room, you know----"</p> - -<p>"This room!" Both men looked round the White Room, and then at one -another. Finally both pairs of eyes were fixed on Mrs. Fane's face.</p> - -<p>"Yes," she said calmly. "I need not read the paragraph. The gist of it -is that the police have received a letter stating that there is a room -like this in a house at Hampstead."</p> - -<p>"At Hampstead?" said Calvert, advancing a step.</p> - -<p>"Yes. It belongs to a Mr. Brand."</p> - -<p>"Brand!" said Fane, looking at Calvert. "Why, that is the name you -mentioned just now!"</p> - -<p>"Yes," said the young man with an effort. "I have a cousin called -Flora Brand."</p> - -<p>"Dear me," said Mrs. Fane in her cold way. "I wonder if she can be the -miserable creature who was murdered in this room."</p> - -<p>"Julia!" Fane started to his feet. "What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"Don't grow excited, my dear," she replied in her soothing tones. "But -it seems that Mrs. Brand has disappeared. The writer of the letter -doesn't describe her to the police; but inquiries are being made. -Perhaps she may be the dead woman. How strange that she should have -died in this room, when she has one of her own furnished exactly the -same. This room was your own idea, Walter?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," he replied, looking puzzled, "my own idea. And I don't know -Mrs. Brand. How came she to have a similar room?"</p> - -<p>Arnold took up his hat.</p> - -<p>"I'll find that out," he said.</p> - -<p>When he left the room, husband and wife looked at one another.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER VII</h4> - -<h5><a name="div1_07" href="#div1Ref_07">THE OTHER WHITE ROOM</a></h5> -<br> - -<p>Coleridge Lane, Hampstead, was named after the great poet, who had -once resided in the neighbourhood. If he lived in this special -locality, he could not have found it congenial to his Muse, for the -crooked, winding, sloping passage could hardly be called a lane, much -less a road. Also, it was damp by reason of the ancient trees that -nearly met overhead. On either side were small cottages standing -amidst weedy gardens, the survivals of a far-off age, when a wide view -and careful drainage were not considered as necessary to any human -habitation. An air of melancholy hung over the place, and only because -the rents were low did the cottages contain tenants.</p> - -<p>Before the gate of one of these cottages stood Inspector Derrick one -summer's morning. He was in private clothes, and looked, as usual, -smart and alert. With a sharp look on his stern face he stared at the -damp, discoloured walls of the cottage, which matched with a -moss-grown thatched roof. Yet, in spite of the apparent decay of the -house, there was evidence that the occupier had some idea of tidiness -and comfort. The garden was well weeded, and filled with homely -cottage flowers now in full bloom. A green-painted fence divided the -garden from the lane, and there was a narrow gate which bore the name -"Fairy Lodge." The windows were draped with lace curtains tied with -smart pink ribbons. The brass door-knocker was well polished, and the -step thoroughly whitewashed. Apparently the landlord would not, and -the tenant could not, renovate the cottage, but much had been done to -render it a little less melancholy than the neighbouring houses.</p> - -<p>Derrick stood enjoying the cool breeze and sunshine on that bright -morning, and wondering if the person he had appointed to meet him -there would come. It was already five minutes past the hour of -eleven, so the person was late. But even while the inspector looked -at his watch, the individual appeared. He was an old man, thin and -weather-worn, dressed in shabby clothes, and looking as though he had -not enough to eat. He appeared to be almost as shabby as the -neighbourhood, and hobbled towards Derrick coughing, and limping with -the aid of a stout stick. As soon as he came within eyeshot--for his -sight did not seem to be good--he halted mistrustfully. Derrick, -guessing that he was the man who was to meet him, advanced. "You are -Mr. Webb?" said he briskly.</p> - -<p>"I might be," returned the old fellow cautiously, "if you are Mr. -Derrick I wrote to at a certain place."</p> - -<p>"I am Inspector Derrick, and I come in answer to your letter about -Mrs. Brand and the White Room."</p> - -<p>"Will there be any reward for my setting the police on the track?" -asked Webb cunningly.</p> - -<p>"Well, I can hardly say. Mr. Fane, in whose house this woman was -murdered, promised to recompense me should I discover anything likely -to lead to the detection of the assassin. I dare say he will give me a -hundred pounds."</p> - -<p>"Halves," said the old man, coughing, "or I don't let you in."</p> - -<p>"I fear you won't be able to stop me," said Derrick, smiling. "On the -strength of your letter I procured a search-warrant. I represent the -law, you see. You should have made a bargain before you wrote the -letter, Mr. Webb."</p> - -<p>"Rogues, thieves, and liars, the lot of you," said the old man, -striking the ground violently with his stick. "What about my rent?"</p> - -<p>"I don't owe you any. Did this woman?"</p> - -<p>"No. She's paid me up to date. But here's my cottage without a tenant. -I'll find it difficult to let it again, if she was done to death as -the papers said."</p> - -<p>"We don't know that Mrs. Brand is the same woman."</p> - -<p>"Well, Mrs. Brand hasn't been seen since the day that crime took -place," retorted Webb, "and then there's the room, you know."</p> - -<p>"Ah! I want to see the room. It is strange she should have been killed -in a room similar to that occupied by herself. I can't understand it."</p> - -<p>"If you made it worth my while I might assist you. I am poor; oh! how -poor I am. Look at my clothes. You wouldn't pick them off a -dunghill--not you. And I live on sausages. They're cheap, but not -filling. Do you know of anything that taken at one meal would keep me -going for a week?"</p> - -<p>"No," said Derrick abruptly, and thinking the old man a queer -character. "Show me the house."</p> - -<p>"All in good time," said the ancient, hobbling to the gate. "Ah!" He -wheeled round and shook his fist at a butcher's boy. "Hear that brat. -Why don't you run him in for insulting language?"</p> - -<p>"Miser! miser!" chanted the boy, leering across the lane at the old -creature, who shook his fist in impotent rage. "Golly, what clothes. -Say, mister"--this was to Derrick--"if I come across to deliver the -meat, will you stop the old cove from pitching into me?"</p> - -<p>"I'll bash your head, you imp," yelled Webb, quivering with rage.</p> - -<p>"Leave him alone," said Derrick good-humouredly. "Boys will be boys. -Now then, young shaver, come along!"</p> - -<p>But the boy declined. He darted across the road, thrust a chop into -the inspector's hand, and darted back. "You give it to Mrs. Brand, -governor," said the boy, grinning; "the old cove's got his bleary eye -on yours truly."</p> - -<p>"Beast of a boy," said Webb, and entering the gate he hobbled up to -the door.</p> - -<p>Derrick lingered behind, and produced a shilling. "See here, boy," he -remarked persuasively, "do you deliver meat to Mrs. Brand every day?"</p> - -<p>"Every second day," said the boy advancing, lured by the shilling.</p> - -<p>"Has the meat been taken in as usual?"</p> - -<p>"No, it ain't. Not for over a week. Nearly a fortnight, you might -say. I brings them though--the chops, I mean--and puts them in the -meat-safe at the back of the house. There's lots there, but she ain't -bin home to eat them."</p> - -<p>"When did you last see her?"</p> - -<p>"Over a fortnight ago," said the boy, counting on his fingers, -and apparently not very sure as to his dates. "On a Thursday that -was. She took the chop in as usual. On Saturday I brought a steak -late--somewhere about six--so that it might be quite fresh for Sunday, -and she wasn't in. Ain't seen her since. Say, mister, if y' know her, -say as master 'ull charge her for the meat. It's her own fault she -ain't eaten it."</p> - -<p>"Why didn't she leave a servant in charge?"</p> - -<p>"Too poor," said the boy, taking the shilling and spitting on it for -luck. "She always did the housework herself. But she was a real lady -for all that. Say, mister"--the boy stared--"nothing ain't gone wrong -with her?"</p> - -<p>"No. I merely called to see her."</p> - -<p>"Well, she ain't at home as I can see. There ain't no smoke coming -from the chimney, though to be sure she may be saving the coals. I -thought the miser might have done away with her. He's an old rip as -ought to be in gaol. I saw him making eyes at her."</p> - -<p>"Ah! Then Mrs. Brand is a pretty woman?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, in a kind of delicate sort of way. Brown hair and blue eyes and -pale and little. Looked like a widder," said the boy confidentially, -"but she wasn't. Bless you, no! Her husband's a commercial gent as -comes home every now and then. But he's away for the most part of the -time."</p> - -<p>"Have you ever seen him?"</p> - -<p>"In the dark I did. A tall gent. But I can't tell you his looks."</p> - -<p>"You are a smart boy," said Derrick, taking out his note-book. "I -should like to see more of you."</p> - -<p>"My name's Potter," said the boy, grinning at this praise. "I work for -old Rams the butcher."</p> - -<p>"Ah, I know the shop," said Derrick, noting this. "I once lived in -Hampstead, and dealt with Mr. Rams."</p> - -<p>"My, ain't he sharp over the money. But Mrs. Brand always paid up like -a lady. Guess the miser got his rent."</p> - -<p>"Webb hailed Derrick at this moment. Are you going to talk to that -brat all day, officer?" he inquired shrilly, peering out of the open -door.</p> - -<p>At the word "officer" Potter backed with a look of apprehension. "I -say, you're a peeler. Lor! Anything wrong?"</p> - -<p>"No," said Derrick, vexed at being thus betrayed. "Hold your tongue -about this conversation. I'll make it worth your while."</p> - -<p>"I'm fly," said Master Potter, with a whistle and an easier look. He -showed a disposition to linger at the gate; but Derrick ordered him -sway sharply, and he departed, casting looks over his shoulder, too -amazed at his discovery of Derrick's profession to call old Webb bad -names. Derrick went inside.</p> - -<p>"If Mr. Brand arrives I can show him this as my authority for entering -the cottage," said Derrick, displaying a search-warrant.</p> - -<p>"Brand! Mrs. Brand?"</p> - -<p>"Mister! The husband."</p> - -<p>"Never saw him," grumbled Webb. "Mrs. Brand said she had one, but she -paid the rent and looked after the house, and kept very much to -herself. I never set eyes on him."</p> - -<p>"He's a commercial traveller," the boy said.</p> - -<p>"The boy's a liar," retorted the agreeable Mr. Webb. "Mrs. Brand was -too much the lady to marry a commercial. She used to talk of her -husband, but she never let on his employment."</p> - -<p>"Did she rent the cottage in her own name?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. I don't believe she had a husband."</p> - -<p>"What reference did she give."</p> - -<p>"Six months' rent in advance. Stop! She did refer me to a -schoolmaster."</p> - -<p>"A schoolmaster? What is his name?"</p> - -<p>"Professor Bocaros."</p> - -<p>"A professor--of what?"</p> - -<p>"Lord," said Webb testily, "how do I know? Any one can call themselves -professors if they've a mind to--especially foreigners."</p> - -<p>Derrick, who was standing in the small hall, started, and remembered -what Miss Mason had said when he mentioned the stiletto. "Is this -professor a foreigner?" he asked eagerly.</p> - -<p>"A Greek. Bocaros means bull's head or bull's tail--at least it did -when I was at school. Ah! I've been educated, though you mightn't -think so, Mister Inspector."</p> - -<p>Derrick passed over this remark. "Did you see this man?"</p> - -<p>"No. My time's too valuable to run after foreigners. I wrote to him at -the address given by Mrs. Brand. She said he was a cousin of hers. He -wrote back saying that she was a respectable person. I dare say she -was, but I don't believe she had a husband. If she had, why didn't he -show? A commercial gent! Bah! Don't tell me."</p> - -<p>"What address did Mrs. Brand give you?"</p> - -<p>"Now that's queer. She gave me Ulysses Street, Troy!"</p> - -<p>This time Derrick could not suppress an exclamation. "Why, that is -only a stone-throw from Achilles Avenue. It's near Meadow Lane."</p> - -<p>"I said it was queer," remarked Webb, nodding. "Perhaps he did her to -death. What do you think?"</p> - -<p>"I think you may have put a clue into my hand," said the inspector, -noting the address in his useful little book. "Don't speak of this to -any one. I'll make it worth your while."</p> - -<p>"Halves," said the miser again; "though it's only fifty pounds. I -think Mr.--what's his name?--Fane should give me the whole hundred."</p> - -<p>"Oh, indeed." Derrick put the book into his pocket. "And what about -me, Mr. Webb, if you please?"</p> - -<p>"You're paid for finding criminals, I ain't," said Webb, entering a -side door. "Come and look at the room. My time's valuable. I can't -stand talking to you all day. The drawing-room this is."</p> - -<p>"Ha!" Derrick stood at the door, and looked at the small room, which -was furnished in the same fashion as the larger one in Ajax Villa, -though not in so costly a manner. The walls and hangings were white, -the carpet and furniture also, and even the piano was cased in white -wood. In all respects, save in the way of luxury, the room was the -same. It was strange that Mrs. Brand should have been killed in a room -similar to her drawing-room, and in a house situated at the other end -of London. "Though we don't know if the dead woman is Mrs. Brand," -said Derrick, looking round.</p> - -<p>"That's easily settled," said Webb, who had taken up his position in a -cane chair. "There's her portrait."</p> - -<p>On the mantel-piece were two silver frames, one on either side of a -gimcrack French clock. The frame to the left contained the photograph -of a pretty slight woman, in whom Derrick immediately recognised the -dead unknown. "That's her sure enough," said he, taking a long look. -"I wonder how she came to die in a room similar to this," and he -glanced around again. "The mystery is growing deeper every discovery I -make. What of the other silver frame?"</p> - -<p>"It's got the photograph of a man--the husband, I suppose."</p> - -<p>"No." Derrick took down the frame. "The photograph has been removed."</p> - -<p>"Lord!" said Webb, when a close examination assured him of this fact. -"Why, so it has. But she showed it to me one day when I asked about -Mr. Brand, and said it was his picture."</p> - -<p>"Do you remember what the man was like in looks?" said the inspector, -replacing the frame, much disappointed.</p> - -<p>"No," replied the old man; "my eyesight's that bad as I can hardly -tell A from B. It was the picture of a bearded man."</p> - -<p>"A pointed beard?"</p> - -<p>"I can't say. He had a beard, that's all I know. Mrs. Brand said that -his business took him away a good deal. But she didn't say he was a -commercial gent."</p> - -<p>"Did Mrs. Brand, go out much?"</p> - -<p>"Not at all. I told you so before. She kept very much to herself, in a -haughty kind of way. Thought herself a fine lady, I suppose, and -there's no denying she was a lady. She has been my tenant for over -five years, and always paid regular, but she knew no one, and when any -one called she never would let them in. I only got to know of this -room because I came for my rent."</p> - -<p>"Did she pay her bills regularly?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. I asked that, being fearful for my rent. She always paid up like -a lady. Not that she took much in. Generally she lived by herself, so -didn't eat much, keeping no servant either."</p> - -<p>"Did she ever go out to concerts or theatres or anywhere?"</p> - -<p>"When her husband came home she used to enjoy herself. I believe she -went to the opera, or to concerts, being fond of music."</p> - -<p>"Ah!" Derrick recalled the song. "Did she sing?"</p> - -<p>"Not that I ever heard of. She told me very little about herself, and -what I know I had to drag out of her. She came five years ago and took -this cottage by herself. Afterwards her husband, as she called him, -came. I never saw him, and she always paid her rent regularly. That's -all I know."</p> - -<p>"Why do you think Mr. Brand was not her husband?"</p> - -<p>"I never said he wasn't. I don't know. She seemed a respectable -person, and was very quiet in her living and dress. Sometimes she shut -up the cottage and went away for a week."</p> - -<p>"Always for a week?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. She never was absent long. I suppose she and her husband had a -jaunt all to themselves. She had no children. But ain't you going to -look at the rest of the house?"</p> - -<p>"Yes." Derrick cast his eyes round the room again. On the round white -wood table was a photograph album bound in white leather. He opened -this, and found that all the portraits therein--the book was only half -full--were those of women. Several were of Mrs. Brand as child and -girl and woman. Spaces showed that five or six portraits had been -removed. Derrick noted this, and then left the drawing-room -thoughtfully. It seemed to him as though all the male portraits had -been removed on purpose. And the chances were that in an album -belonging to the wife, portraits of the husband might be found. At the -door of the white room he cast his eyes on the ground. "Has it been -raining?" he asked.</p> - -<p>Webb, who was already in the passage, came back, and stared at the -footmarks--muddy footmarks which were printed on the white carpet. -"It's not been raining for over a week," he said. "Strange that there -should be this mess. Mrs. Brand was always a particularly tidy woman. -She never let a spot of dirt remain in this room."</p> - -<p>"We've had a dry summer," said Derrick, pinching his lip.</p> - -<p>"Very dry," assented Webb. "To be sure, there was that big -thunderstorm eight days ago."</p> - -<p>"And before that we had three weeks of sunshine."</p> - -<p>"Yes." The old man stared. "What of that?"</p> - -<p>"It seems to me----" said Derrick; then he paused, and shook his head. -"Let us examine the rest of the house."</p> - -<p>Webb, not knowing what was passing in the officer's mind, stared again -and hobbled round as cicerone. They went to the small kitchen, to the -one bedroom, to the tiny dining-room, and examined the small -conservatory opening out of this last. At the back of the house there -was a small garden filled with gaudy sunflowers and tall hollyhocks. -The red brick walls which enclosed the plot of ground scarcely larger -than a handkerchief were draped with ivy, carefully trimmed and -tended. The conservatory was filled with cheap flowers neatly ranged. -Apparently Mrs. Brand, judging by the conservatory and the back and -front gardens, was fond of flowers, and made it the pleasure of her -life to tend them.</p> - -<p>The kitchen and the dining-room were plainly furnished. In the -meat-safe outside the back door were the chops and steaks left by the -butcher's boy, and also loaves of bread. A milk-can was on the ground -and empty, showing that probably all the cats in the place had been -enjoying themselves. Derrick found that a narrow passage between the -enclosing wall and the house led from the front garden to the back. -Having assured himself of this, he re-entered the house, and examined -the bedroom.</p> - -<p>This was better furnished than the rest of the house. There was a -smart dressing-table decked with muslin and pink ribbons. On it were -articles of female toilette. Several dresses (plain for the most part) -were hanging up in the wardrobe, and there was a warm but untrimmed -dressing-gown in the bathroom. But Derrick could not see any male -apparel, and pointed this out to Webb.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps Mr. Brand wasn't her husband after all," said the old man. -"He may have been a friend of hers, and came here occasionally. But he -didn't live here."</p> - -<p>"The boy said he did sometimes."</p> - -<p>"The boy's a liar," said Webb vindictively.</p> - -<p>"Hum! I don't know that. I have an idea."</p> - -<p>"Of what?"</p> - -<p>"I'll tell you directly." Derrick opened all the drawers in the -bedroom. He found linen, hats, handkerchiefs, ribbons--all articles of -female attire, but again nothing appertaining to a man's dress.</p> - -<p>"Where's her desk?" he asked abruptly.</p> - -<p>"In the white room. I was sitting near it."</p> - -<p>"The inspector, having searched the bedroom again to see if he could -find any papers, led the way back to the drawing-room. The desk was -near the window, and unlocked; that is, it opened easily enough, and -Derrick thought it was unlocked. But a glance showed him that the lock -was broken. The desk has been forced," he said, and threw wide the -lid, "and the contents have been removed," he added.</p> - -<p>Webb stared at the empty desk. There were a few bundles of receipted -bills, some writing-paper and envelopes, and a stick or two of red -sealing-wax. But no scrap of writing was there to reveal anything -about Mrs. Brand. Yet on a knowledge of her past depended the -discovery of the reason she had been stabbed in Troy. The inspector -looked at the desk, at the floor, and drew his own conclusions. "Some -one has been here eight days ago, and has removed all papers and -pictures likely to give a clue to the past of this woman and to the -identity of the husband."</p> - -<p>"How do you know?" asked Webb, startled.</p> - -<p>Derrick pointed to the muddy marks on the carpet. "The fact that the -carpet is white betrays the truth," said he. "For the last month or -so, that is, before and since the murder, we have had only one -storm--that was eight days ago. The person who removed the portraits -from the album and from the silver frame, who forced the desk and -destroyed the papers, came on that day----"</p> - -<p>"The thunderstorm was at night," interrupted Webb.</p> - -<p>"Then at night, which would be the better concealment of his purpose. -He came here with mud on his boots, as is proved by these marks. He -wished to remove all evidence of Mr. Brand's identity. Therefore----"</p> - -<p>"Well," said Webb, seeing that Derrick hesitated. "I believe that -Brand himself did so, and that Brand is the man who killed his wife in -Ajax Villa."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER VIII</h4> - -<h5><a name="div1_08" href="#div1Ref_08">PROFESSOR BOCAROS</a></h5> -<br> - -<p>Mrs. Baldwin always called herself an unlucky woman, and lamented that -she had to undergo misfortunes heavier than those of other people. But -in truth she was better off than her laziness and grumbling deserved. -Her income was small but sure, and if she lived unhappily, with her -second husband the fault was hers. The man grew weary of her -inattention to domestic comfort, and to her constant lamentations. It -said a great deal for the absent Mr. Baldwin that he had lived with -this slattern for so many years. The most sensible thing he ever did -in his life was when he left her.</p> - -<p>On losing him Mrs. Baldwin had taken up her abode in Cloverhead Manor -House, and obtained it at a low rent. She would not have got it so -cheap, but that in those days Troy was only beginning to gather round -the ancient village. Mrs. Baldwin, in spite of her laziness, was -clever enough to foresee that land would increase in value, and bought -the acres upon which the manor stood. The former owner, the last -member of a decayed family, had sold the land gladly enough, as he -obtained from Mrs. Baldwin a larger price than was offered by the -classic jerry-builder, who was responsible for the modern suburb. -Since then the value of the land--as was anticipated by Mrs. -Baldwin--had increased, and many speculators offered large sums to buy -it. But Mrs. Baldwin was too lazy to make another move. She enjoyed -pigging it in the large roomy house, and quite resolved not to move -until the children were settled in life. She then proposed to sell the -land, and use the money "to take her proper station in society," -whatever that meant. And she was cunning enough to know that the land -would increase still more in value. There were the makings of a -business woman in Mrs. Baldwin had she not been so incorrigibly lazy.</p> - -<p>"But I really can't move," sighed Mrs. Baldwin when approached on the -subject by Gerty, who was businesslike and speculative. "Heaven knows -I can hardly get through the day's work with my bad health. Besides, -there is the professor to be considered. Such a nice man. If I were -only sure that Rufus was dead I might consent to take him."</p> - -<p>This was sheer vanity on the part of the lazy fat woman, as the -professor had no intention of asking her to become Mrs. Bocaros. He -was a bachelor by nature, and passed his life in study. Holding a -small post in a suburban college where he taught foreign languages, he -just managed to keep his head above water. For the sake of peace, and -because he hated a boarding-house, the professor wanted a home to -himself. When Mrs. Baldwin came to Cloverhead she had a tiny cottage -on her estate at the foot of the meadow at the back of the -manor-house. It was surrounded by pines, and lying near a small stream -which overflowed whenever there was rain, being therefore extremely -damp. She had no idea of letting it, but on meeting Bocaros at a -scholastic "At Home" she learned of his desire, and offered him the -place. He accepted it eagerly, and for some years had been Mrs. -Baldwin's tenant.</p> - -<p>The professor was a quiet neighbour. He kept no servant, and did the -work himself. The cottage possessed but two rooms, one of which was -used as a kitchen, and the other as a dining-room, a bedroom, a study, -and a reception-room. This last was large and airy and damp, but the -professor loved it because of the solitude. He cherished a tranquil -life above all things, and certainly found it in "The Refuge," as he -called his tiny domicile. Through the pines he could see the country -dotted with red brick villas, the outposts of London, for Troy was one -of the last additions to the great city, and its surroundings were -almost rural. Beside the stream grew stunted alders and tall poplars. -There was no fence round the place. It was clapped down on the verge -of the meadow, and girdled with the pines. A more isolated hermitage -it is impossible to conceive. Tracey, who sometimes came to see -Bocaros, for whose learning he had a great respect, advised draining -the place, but Bocaros was obstinate. "It will last my time," he said -in his rather precise way; "and I may not live here for many years."</p> - -<p>"Do you intend to leave then?" asked Tracey.</p> - -<p>"I might. There is a chance I may inherit money, and then I would live -in Switzerland."</p> - -<p>"That's where the anarchists dwell," said Tracey, wondering if this -queer-looking foreigner was a member of some secret society.</p> - -<p>Professor Bocaros--he obtained his title from a Greek College, as he -stated--was certainly odd in his appearance. He was tall and lean and -lank, apparently made of nothing but bones. Rheumatism in this damp -spot would have had a fine field to rack Bocaros, but he never seemed -to be ill. Always dressed in black broadcloth, rather worn, he looked -like an undertaker, and moved with quite a funereal step. His face was -of the fine Greek type, but so emaciated that it looked like a -death's-head. With his hollow cheeks, his thin red lips, his high bald -forehead, and the absence of beard and moustache, Bocaros was most -unattractive. The most remarkable feature of his face was his eyes. -These, under shaggy black brows, seemed to blaze like lamps. However -weak and ill the man looked, his blazing eyes showed that he was full -of vitality. Also, his lean hands could grip firmly, and his long legs -took him over the ground at a surprising rate. Yet he ate little, and -appeared to be badly nourished. Tracey, to whom Bocaros was always a -source of wonder and constant speculation, confided to Gerty that he -believed the professor was possessed of some restorative which served -instead of food. On the whole, there was an air of mystery about the -man which provoked the curiosity of the lively, inquisitive American. -It would have inspired curiosity with many people also, had not -Bocaros lived so retired a life. The Baldwin children called his house -"Ogre Castle," and invented weird tales of the professor eating little -children.</p> - -<p>"I shouldn't wonder if he was a vampire of sorts," said Tracey. "He -don't live on air, and the food in that Mother Hubbard's cupboard of -his wouldn't keep a flea in condition."</p> - -<p>"I don't believe in much eating myself," Mrs. Baldwin responded, -although she never gave her inside a rest, and was always-chewing like -a cow. "Abstinence keeps the brain clear."</p> - -<p>"And over-abstinence kills the body," retorted Tracey.</p> - -<p>Whatever Bocaros may have thought of the murder, he said very little -about it. He never took in a paper himself, but was accustomed to -borrow the <i>Daily Budget</i> from Mrs. Baldwin when that lady had -finished the court news, the only part of the paper she took any -interest in. Usually after his return from the school where he taught, -Bocaros came across the meadows by a well-defined path, and asked for -the journal. This was usually between four and five o'clock, and then -he would have a chat with Mrs. Baldwin. But two or three weeks after -the Ajax Villa tragedy, when the professor tore along the path--he -always walked as though he were hurrying for a doctor--he met Tracey -half-way. The American had the newspaper in his hand.</p> - -<p>"Coming for this, I guess," said Tracey, handing over the journal. "I -was just bringing it to you. There's a question or two I wish to ask. -You don't mind, do you?"</p> - -<p>Bocaros fixed his brilliant eyes on the other. "What is the question, -my friend?" he demanded in English, which hardly bore a trace of -foreign accent.</p> - -<p>The American did not reply directly. "You're a clever sort of smart -all-round go-ahead colleger," said Tracey, taking the thin arm of the -man, an attention which Bocaros did not appreciate, "and I want to ask -your opinion about this murder."</p> - -<p>"I know nothing about murders, my friend. Why not go to the police?"</p> - -<p>"The police!" Tracey made a gesture of disgust. "They ain't worth a -cent. Why, about three weeks have gone by since that poor girl was -stabbed, and they don't seem any nearer the truth than they were."</p> - -<p>"We discussed this before," said Bocaros, as they approached the belt -of pines, "and I told you that I could form no theory. My work lies -amidst languages. I am a philologist, my friend, and no detective."</p> - -<p>"I guess you'd pan out better than the rest of them if you were."</p> - -<p>"You flatter me." Bocaros removed his arm, and inserted a large key -into the lock of his door. "Will you come in?"</p> - -<p>"You don't seem very set on chin-music, but I'll come," said Tracey, -who, when bent on obtaining anything, never rested till he achieved -his purpose.</p> - -<p>Bocaros gave a gentle sigh, which a more sensitive man might have -taken as a sign that his company was not wanted at that precise -moment. But Tracey would not go, so he had to be admitted. He entered -the room, which was lined with books, and furnished otherwise in a -poor manner, and threw himself into the one armchair. Then he took out -a cigarette-case. "Have one," he said, extending this.</p> - -<p>"A pipe, my friend, will please me better," replied Bocaros, and -filled a large china pipe, which he must have obtained when he was a -German student. He then took a seat with his back towards the window, -and intimated that he was ready.</p> - -<p>"See here!" said Tracey, opening the newspaper and pointing to a -paragraph; "read that!"</p> - -<p>"Is it about the murder?" asked Bocaros, puffing gently at his pipe.</p> - -<p>"Yes. That fool of a Derrick has made a discovery of some value."</p> - -<p>"In that case he cannot be a fool, my friend," replied Bocaros, -leaning back his head and inhaling the smoke luxuriously. "Tell me -what the paper says. I can't read while you talk, and I am sure you -will not be silent for five minutes."</p> - -<p>"That's a fact," said Tracey coolly. "I've got a long tongue and an -inquiring mind. I shan't read the paragraph. But it seems that -he--Derrick, I mean--has found out the woman's name."</p> - -<p>"How interesting!" said Bocaros, unmoved and in rather a bored tone. -"How did he find it out?"</p> - -<p>"Well, some one wrote from Hampstead," said Tracey, throwing the paper -aside, and giving the gist of his information, "and let out there was -a woman who lived in Coleridge Lane who had a white room, same as that -she was murdered in."</p> - -<p>"Coleridge Lane!" repeated Bocaros, opening his eyes. "I know some one -living there. What is this woman's name?"</p> - -<p>"The inspector," continued Tracey, taking no notice of this direct -question, "went to see this room. He found the house shut up. The -landlord had the key, and with the landlord he entered. He found, as -was stated, a room similar in all respects to the one in Ajax Villa, -though the furniture was poor. More than that, there was a portrait on -the mantel-piece of the woman who was murdered."</p> - -<p>"You can give me the details afterwards," said Bocaros hastily. "At -present I want to know the woman's name."</p> - -<p>"Keep your hair on, professor. Her name is Brand."</p> - -<p>Bocaros rose from his chair and, dropping his pipe, threw up his hands -with a foreign ejaculation. "Brand! Flora Brand?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. How do you come to know her front name?"</p> - -<p>"She is my cousin," said the professor, and sat down to cover his face -with his hands.</p> - -<p>Tracey whistled, and stared. In making the communication to the man, -he was far from expecting that this announcement would be made. "I -guess you know who killed her then?" he observed coolly. Bocaros -leaped to his feet. "Man," he cried fiercely, "what is that you say? -How should I know who killed her?"</p> - -<p>"You're her cousin, and Derrick says in the woman's past life will be -found the motive for the crime."</p> - -<p>"I know very little of my cousin's past life," said Bocaros, walking -rapidly to and fro, and apparently much moved. "What I do know I shall -tell to the police."</p> - -<p>"Tell it to me now," suggested the American.</p> - -<p>The professor looked at him mistrustfully. "I don't know if you are a -good person to make a confidant of."</p> - -<p>"Bless you, there's no confidence about this, professor. You'll have -to tell the police what you know, and they'll put it all in print."</p> - -<p>"True! True!" Bocaros took a turn up and down the room, then passed -his lean hand through his long hair. "Mr. Tracey, you are a clever -man. I can rely on you to help me."</p> - -<p>"Help you!" Tracey looked sharply at the professor. "What's that?"</p> - -<p>"I mean help me with the police. I am not accustomed to deal with -these matters. They will ask me questions."</p> - -<p>"Well, what if they do? You can answer them, I reckon."</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes. But you know how suspicious the police are."</p> - -<p>"They may be in foreign lands where you hail from. But I guess they're -too pig-headed here to think much."</p> - -<p>"This woman--Flora--was murdered in Ajax Villa. It is only a short -distance from my house. They may think----"</p> - -<p>"That you killed her? That's rubbish. It's queer, certainly, that she -should have come to end her life in that way so near to your shanty, -but there's not much chance of the police accusing you. Did you know -Fane in any way?"</p> - -<p>"I never even heard of him."</p> - -<p>"Not from Miss Mason? You know her?"</p> - -<p>"I have only spoken half a dozen words to her," said Bocaros, twisting -his hands together. "You know how shy I am. Your lady----"</p> - -<p>"Gerty B.," put in Tracey.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Miss Baldwin. She introduced me to Miss Mason. But we had little -speech together. Your young lady might have mentioned the name of -Fane, but I forget--I forget." And Bocaros passed his hand over his -brow again. "You know how absent I am."</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes," said Luther Tracey soothingly, for he saw that the man was -growing excited. "You lie down and go slow. Tell me about this cousin -of yours."</p> - -<p>"She is my first cousin," explained Bocaros, sitting down, and keeping -himself down by the strongest of efforts. "My father's sister married -a man called Calvert, and----"</p> - -<p>"Calvert! Why, that's the name of the man Miss Mason's going to be -married to!"</p> - -<p>"Is it?" The professor stared. "I never knew. Flora told me that her -father's brother had a son called Arnold."</p> - -<p>"That's the name. He's an actor at one of the big shows. Arnold -Calvert. You must have heard of him."</p> - -<p>"Never as an actor."</p> - -<p>"Well, I guess he's not got much of a reputation. Just now he's acting -in a piece at the Frivolity Theatre. <i>The Third Man</i> is the name of -the piece. I don't think much of it myself, or of him as----"</p> - -<p>Bocaros threw up a protesting hand. "We have more important things to -talk about than this young man."</p> - -<p>"Well, I don't know. It's queer that he should be the cousin of the -woman who was killed in the house of the brother-in-law of the girl -he's engaged to. Do you know Calvert?"</p> - -<p>"No; I never met him. Listen, Mr. Tracey. I came to England some five -or six years ago very poor, as I am now. Here Bocaros looked round his -study with a dreary air. I have heard my father talk of his sister who -married a man called Calvert, and I had the address. I found my aunt -dead, and her daughter Flora just preparing to move from the house -where they had lived for a long time. She had very little money, and -told me she was going to be married."</p> - -<p>"To a man called Brand?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. I never saw her husband. Flora told me of our other relatives. -She gave me a little money, and then dismissed me. I did not see her -again. But she wrote to me from Coleridge Lane asking me to give my -name as a reference for her respectability. She wanted to take a house -there----'Fairy Lodge' I think it is called."</p> - -<p>"That's the house," said Tracey, with a glance at the paper. "Well?"</p> - -<p>"Well, I sent the reference, and she never wrote again. Then over a -month ago I received a letter from some lawyers. They stated that Mrs. -Brand had come in for a large fortune, and that she intended next year -to allow me an income."</p> - -<p>"So you've lost by her death?"</p> - -<p>Bocaros sprang to his feet with a wild look. "That's just where it -is," he exclaimed. "I don't know that I haven't gained."</p> - -<p>"As how?" asked Tracey, looking puzzled.</p> - -<p>"When I got the lawyers' letter," proceeded Bocaros,--"the name of the -firm is Laing and Merry--I wrote to Flora, thanking her. She asked me -to call. I did so----"</p> - -<p>"Hallo!" interrupted Tracey; "you said just now you never saw her -again after your interview years ago."</p> - -<p>"I meant at that time. Four or five years elapsed between the time I -saw her. I am not good at dates, but I never saw her for years. All my -life I have only had two interviews. One was when I came to this -country; the other when, shortly before her death, I called to see her -at Coleridge Lane. She received me very kindly, and stated that she -intended to leave me the money. In fact that she had made a will in my -favour."</p> - -<p>Tracey stared. Here was a motive for the murder, seeing that Bocaros -was desperately poor. Yet he could not see how the professor came to -be mixed up with the actual crime. "How much is the property?" he -asked, after an awkward pause.</p> - -<p>"Ten thousand a year."</p> - -<p>"Great Scott! How lucky for you, professor--her death, I mean."</p> - -<p>"I would rather she had not died," burst out the man passionately. -"It's horrible to think that she should have been murdered in so -barbarous a fashion. You see my position. I live near the house where -the crime was committed. I inherit ten thousand a year, and I am much -in need of money. How do I know but what your police may accuse me of -killing Flora?"</p> - -<p>"They'll have to prove how you got into the house first," said the -American, rather ashamed of his momentary suspicions, since the man -looked at the matter in this fashion. "You lie low, professor. You're -all right, I guess. There's a long difference between inheriting a -large fortune and killing the person to get it."</p> - -<p>"I would not have touched Flora for the universe," cried the -professor. "I saw little of her, but what I saw I liked very much. She -was a gentle, kind little lady, and though so poor she always dressed -well. A most charming lady."</p> - -<p>"Where did she get the ten thousand a year?"</p> - -<p>"From a relative who died in Australia. At our first interview she -stated that she had such a relative, and that it was probable she -would inherit the money. Then she promised to assist me. She -remembered her promise when she came in for the money a month or two -ago. Not only did she promise me an income, but made the will in my -favour. I asked her not to, saying I would be content with a small -annuity. But she said she had already made the will."</p> - -<p>"Why didn't she leave it to her husband?"</p> - -<p>"I can't say. She spoke very little about her husband. He is a -commercial traveller, and was often away. From what I saw in her -manner and looks she was not happy; but she did not complain."</p> - -<p>"Well," said Tracey, rising, "if the husband turns up he'll fight you -for the property, though I don't think he'll show."</p> - -<p>"Why not? He won't give up ten thousand a year."</p> - -<p>"No. But Derrick thinks, as you will see in the paper, that Mrs. Brand -was killed by her husband."</p> - -<p>Bocaros started back. "Horrible! Horrible!" Then piteously, "My -friend, what am I to do?"</p> - -<p>"Take my advice, and go right along to see Laing and Merry. They'll -help you through." And this Bocaros agreed to do.</p> - -<p>"And I will spend the money in hunting for the assassin," said he.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER IX</h4> - -<h5><a name="div1_09" href="#div1Ref_09">MRS. BRAND'S WILL</a></h5> -<br> - -<p>The office of Laing and Merry was in Milton Street, on the ground -floor of a dingy pile of buildings. There was only one representative -of the firm, as Laing was dead, and his executors had disposed of the -business to Merry. This gentleman carried on the office work with -three clerks, of which one was his son. At a future date the younger -Merry was to be admitted into the business, and at present was serving -his articles. Merry retained the name of Laing on the office -door-plate, as that gentleman had been a much-respected member of the -profession, and his name inspired confidence.</p> - -<p>Regarding Merry's own name, which was certainly odd, it fitted him -extremely well. He was a stout and rubicund lawyer, not at all -resembling the accepted type. There was nothing dry and solemn about -Merry. He seemed to be a simple sort of person, and clients sometimes -doubted his abilities. But all this cheerfulness was assumed. He -really was as deep as a well, but it was a well wherein Truth did not -reside. Not that Merry did anything likely to get himself struck off -the Rolls. He was far too clever for that. But he was certainly -unscrupulous, and more than a match for the majority of rascals. He -always looked for the worst in a man, but his smile and complacent -fatness disarmed all suspicion of his talents. Many a sharper had -cause to rue trusting to the deceitful appearance of the lawyer.</p> - -<p>Mr. Merry sat alone in a dingy room, the window of which looked out on -to a blank wall. The room was surrounded by black-painted deed-boxes, -and was remarkably dusty. Before the lawyer was a pile of letters -which he intended to answer shortly. But at the present moment he was -looking at yesterday's copy of the <i>Daily Budget</i>. It belonged to -Merry junior, and his father had taken it in to read the paragraph -pointed out by his son. It was that which dealt with the finding of -Fairy Lodge, and the identification of Flora Brand with the woman who -had been murdered in Ajax Villa. After mastering the article, Merry -rang the bell, and raised his eyes when his son appeared at the door.</p> - -<p>"Come and sit down, and close the door," said the father. "I wish to -speak about this."</p> - -<p>"Merry junior was a stout young man of twenty-one, quite as -cheerful-looking as his respected progenitor. But he had a pair of -sharp grey eyes which always set people on their guard. For this -reason he was not so successful as his father in dealing with -suspicious clients. In a year Merry hoped to be a full-fledged -solicitor, and then intended to become his father's partner. -Meanwhile, as he was remarkably sharp, and had the firm's interest at -heart, Merry senior frequently consulted him. At the present moment he -intended to discuss the death of Mrs. Brand.</p> - -<p>"I can't understand why you did not show me this yesterday," he said.</p> - -<p>"I never saw it," explained the son. "The fact is, I don't take in -that rag." He pointed disdainfully to the paper. "But I picked it up -in a railway carriage while going home last night, and wrapped a bag -of fruit in it. This morning I happened to use some of the paper while -shaving, and my eyes caught the paragraph. I would have shown it to -you at once, but you had already started for the office. I therefore -saved the torn pieces, and brought it in as soon as I arrived."</p> - -<p>"There's nothing about this death in the other papers," said his -father.</p> - -<p>"No. I remember the case though. The woman was murdered at Ajax Villa, -Troy, and there was a great deal of fuss made over the matter, owing -to the strangeness of the affair. It's queer that the similarity of -the rooms should prove to be the means of identification."</p> - -<p>"You think there can be no doubt about the woman?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, it must be Mrs. Brand. You see, the detective--or is he an -inspector?--identified her by the photograph. There's something behind -all this which I can't understand."</p> - -<p>"You mean about the murder?"</p> - -<p>"Well--yes," said the son. "And about the search made in the house by -this man--what's his name?--Derrick. I wonder he did not find our -letters to Mrs. Brand, and come at once to see us."</p> - -<p>"He has not had time, perhaps."</p> - -<p>"The police do not usually lose time. An hour makes a great difference -to a case of this sort. I wonder who murdered her."</p> - -<p>"I can't say. I merely read the inquest in a casual manner. Had I -known it was Mrs. Brand, I should have come forward," added Merry -senior. "The publicity of the case would have done us good."</p> - -<p>The son reflected. "There's time yet to make a fuss," he said. "We are -responsible for the will of Mrs. Brand. I dare say we can get the heir -to offer a reward. What about the will, father?"</p> - -<p>"I must see after it." Merry senior nodded towards a box. "It's in -there. Queer she didn't leave her money to her husband, Sammy."</p> - -<p>"I don't think she and her husband got on well," said Sammy; "he was -always away."</p> - -<p>"Well, as a commercial traveller----"</p> - -<p>"No, father," interrupted Sammy, with vivacity. "I don't believe he -was. Mrs. Brand didn't strike me as a woman who would marry a -commercial traveller. Did you ever see Mr. Brand?"</p> - -<p>"No," replied the lawyer, without raising his eyes. "Did you?"</p> - -<p>"I never did, although you sent me twice to Mrs. Brand's house on -business. I remember the white room. I wonder it didn't strike me when -I saw the report of the crime. By the way, father, how did Mrs. Brand -come to be our client? It was before I entered the office that she -became our client."</p> - -<p>"Yes." Merry rose and looked out of the window at the blank wall, -which was not an alluring prospect. "Her distant cousin, Arthur Brand -of Australia, sent home money to support Mrs. Brand's mother. When the -mother died, he continued the income to the daughter. What always -struck me as strange," added Merry musingly, "was that Mrs. Brand -should marry a man of the same name as that of her cousin."</p> - -<p>"A coincidence merely, father. Then Arthur Brand died and left the -money to this woman?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. A few months ago. I wrote and asked her to call. When informed -of her good fortune she almost fainted. Then I suggested that she -should bring her husband to me, so that he could attend to the matter -on her behalf. But it seemed that Mr. Brand had departed a month -previously to Australia, for the purpose of looking up Arthur. Mrs. -Brand appeared to think that her husband was some connection, and -wished to make sure."</p> - -<p>"There is another cousin, isn't there?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. Arnold Calvert, an actor." Merry's eyes travelled to the tin -box. "I must write him at once."</p> - -<p>"Why? Has he anything to do with the will?"</p> - -<p>Merry opened his mouth to reply, when a clerk entered with a card. -"Professor Bocaros," read the solicitor, and smiled. "Ah! This is Mrs. -Brand's cousin. He has come to see about the will. You can leave me, -Sammy. And I say, just drop a note to Mr. Calvert at the Frivolity -Theatre asking him to call."</p> - -<p>Sammy nodded, and passed out. As he did so Professor Bocaros stood -aside. Young Merry looked at the lean figure and solemn face of the -Greek, and then at the blazing eyes. He gave his opinion to himself as -the door closed on the client. "I shouldn't like to be in your power," -said Sammy. "I wonder if you inherit."</p> - -<p>Merry shook hands warmly with the professor, and placed a chair for -him. "It's a fine day. I am glad to see you, sir. Your cousin, poor -woman, often spoke of you to us."</p> - -<p>"Did she?" said Bocaros, looking keenly at the genial face of the -lawyer. "That is strange, considering we saw so little of one another. -By the way, your phrase--poor woman--leads me to believe that you have -heard from the police."</p> - -<p>"No. I have read in this paper of the identification of Mrs. Brand -with the woman who was murdered in Troy;" and Merry laid his hand on -the <i>Daily Budget</i>. "I suppose you have come to see me about the -matter. How did you learn the news?"</p> - -<p>"In the same way. A friend of mine brought the paper to me."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" Merry looked sharply in his turn. "Did this friend know that you -were Mrs. Brand's cousin?"</p> - -<p>"He did not. I usually get the paper every day from my landlady, Mrs. -Baldwin. I occupy a small house on her estate in Cloverhead----"</p> - -<p>"Where is that, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Near Troy. In fact it is the village around which Troy is built."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" Merry looked surprised. "Do you mean to say you live in Troy?"</p> - -<p>"I do. And not a stone-throw away from the house where poor Flora was -murdered."</p> - -<p>"Flora--ah, Mrs. Brand. I forgot her Christian name for the moment. So -you live there--a strange coincidence," said Merry cautiously.</p> - -<p>"So strange that I have come to ask you what I am to do," said the -professor, in his agitated way. "You will believe me, sir, that I know -nothing of the murder. All I know about it I read in the papers, and -gathered from Mr. Tracey."</p> - -<p>"Who is he?"</p> - -<p>"The engineer whose motor-car was stolen and found in Charing Cross -yard," said Bocaros. "The police said----"</p> - -<p>"I remember. Their theory was that the murderer escaped in the car. -But they didn't prove that at the inquest. Some one else might have -taken the car, though, to be sure, its abandonment in the station yard -looks as though the person merely wished to make use of it for escape. -However, that's not the point. You heard about the crime from Mr. -Tracey?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. And of course I read of it in the papers. But I never knew it -was my cousin till Mr. Tracey brought me the <i>Daily Budget</i> yesterday. -Then I made up my mind to come to you."</p> - -<p>"Why?" asked Merry calmly.</p> - -<p>Bocaros looked surprised. "Why, you wrote to me stating that Mrs. -Brand intended to leave me an annuity."</p> - -<p>"She did intend to do so, but she changed her mind."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I know," said Bocaros, feeling his way carefully, for he was -surprised by Merry's attitude. "When she wrote to me, I went and saw -her. She said she would see that I wanted for nothing, and then she -told me that she had made a will in my favour."</p> - -<p>Merry looked up suddenly. He had been drawing figures on the -blotting-paper, apparently inattentive. But in reality he had lost -nothing of the conversation. Now he looked as though he would read the -heart of the man before him. "Mrs. Brand did make a will in your -favour," he said, "about a week before she died, but----"</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?" asked Bocaros. He was usually pale, but owing to -the significant looks of Mr. Merry, he flushed a deep red. "She told -me about the will, and I want to know--seeing that I live in Troy, and -benefit by her death--if there is any chance of the police suspecting -me?"</p> - -<p>"No," said Merry smoothly. "There is no chance. You don't benefit -under the will."</p> - -<p>Bocaros leaned back in his chair, and changed from red to white. "I--I -confess, sir, I do not understand," he stammered.</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Brand," went on the lawyer smoothly, "came and made a will, -leaving all her money to you. It amounts to ten thousand a year. She -also mentioned the annuity, but after some thought, she said we could -write to you saying she would allow you an income, but privately we -advised her not to bind herself. She did so. We wrote as you know. She -then said that she would pay you the income, as we stated in our -letter, and resolved to leave you her money. In fact we made a will -out to that effect."</p> - -<p>"So she told me," stammered the professor, "and then----"</p> - -<p>"Then she changed her mind like women do. In a few days she came back, -revoked the former will, and made a new one in favour of Arnold -Calvert, if you know who he is."</p> - -<p>"Arnold Calvert!" cried the professor, rising. "The actor?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. I have never seen him act myself; but I hear he is a very good -fellow, and I have no doubt, seeing how you have been disappointed, he -will let you have enough to live on. We have written to Mr. Calvert, -and expect him to call."</p> - -<p>Bocaros sat quite still, though in this speech he saw the downfall of -his hopes. Merry thought that being a foreigner he would break out -into a rage. But Bocaros did nothing of the sort. His face was white, -and he appeared to breathe with difficulty. Then he smiled, and drew a -long breath of relief. "So she has left me nothing," he said. "I am -glad of it."</p> - -<p>"Glad of it!" echoed Merry.</p> - -<p>"Yes. I was fearful lest the police should suspect me of having a hand -in poor Flora's death. Now that she has left me nothing, they can -never think I had any motive to kill her."</p> - -<p>"That's true enough," said Merry, puzzled; "but in any case I don't -see how the police can suspect you. It is true that you live near the -house where Mrs. Brand was murdered. But you no doubt can account for -your actions on that night."</p> - -<p>"No," said Bocaros unhesitatingly; "that's just where the difficulty -comes in. I live alone, and from five o'clock on that day I saw no -one. So far as the police are concerned, it would have been perfectly -easy for me to have killed Mrs. Brand, and have returned to my lonely -house without raising suspicion."</p> - -<p>"There's no need to incriminate yourself," said the lawyer, thinking -Bocaros was slightly touched. "I am quite sure that the police will -think as I do."</p> - -<p>"What is that?"</p> - -<p>"That if you were guilty, you would not be in such a hurry to put -yourself in the wrong."</p> - -<p>"I am not in the wrong; I am innocent."</p> - -<p>"Quite so. Well, there is no good discussing the matter. I suppose you -can throw no light on this strange death?"</p> - -<p>"None. I have told you all I know. But I trust that Mr. Calvert, -seeing he has inherited the money, will take up the matter, and hunt -down the assassin. Thinking I would inherit, I decided to do so -myself."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?" asked the lawyer coldly, and jealous that the man -should trench upon his province.</p> - -<p>Bocaros looked surprised. "Can't you understand?" he said. "It is my -desire that the assassin of my poor cousin should be caught. I saw the -advertisement of a private inquiry office in the paper, and I went -there before coming to you."</p> - -<p>"Oh indeed," said Merry ironically. "And what did you say?"</p> - -<p>"I told the man I saw--his name is Jasher--of my cousin's death, and -of all the circumstances connected with it. I arranged with him that -he should take up the case. I asked him to see you."</p> - -<p>Merry shook his head. "That might do very well if you were the heir, -professor. But as matters stand, I do not see how you can pay."</p> - -<p>"No," said Bocaros dolefully; "yet I think Calvert should employ this -man, and see what can be done."</p> - -<p>"We will select the man who is to be employed," said Merry sharply.</p> - -<p>"In that case I'll hunt out the matter myself," declared the Greek, -taking up his hat. "I am determined to solve this mystery. Calvert----"</p> - -<p>"You may be sure that we will advise Mr. Calvert to do the right -thing," said Merry, rising in his turn. "He inherits ten thousand a -year, and I expect he will see that the assassin is brought to -justice, if such a thing is possible."</p> - -<p>"It is possible," said Bocaros determinedly. "My poor cousin must have -had some reason to go to that house. I don't know Fane, and I don't -know Brand. But one of these two men killed her."</p> - -<p>"What makes you say that?" asked Merry quickly.</p> - -<p>"It is Jasher's opinion on hearing the case."</p> - -<p>Merry reflected. "Send Jasher to me," he said. "If I approve of the -man, and Mr. Calvert is satisfied, we will employ him to take up the -case. I intend also to write to Inspector Derrick. By the way, can you -tell us of any circumstances in your cousin's life which may hint at -the reason for the committal of this crime?"</p> - -<p>"No. My cousin was a good, pure woman. I know of nothing. But her -death must be avenged. The assassin must be found----"</p> - -<p>"Lest you should be suspected," interposed Merry.</p> - -<p>"That amongst other things," said Bocaros, with dignity. "I am a poor -man, Mr. Merry, but I would give all I possess, which is not much, to -learn the truth."</p> - -<p>"If money can discover the truth, you may be sure the death of Mrs. -Brand will be avenged," said Merry, and held open the door for the -professor to pass through. "By the way, we will speak to Mr. Calvert -about an annuity."</p> - -<p>"No," said Bocaros, colouring, and with an indignant look. "Calvert is -a stranger to me. I do not accept money from strangers. Let him spend -it in learning who killed Flora. The only boon I ask of him is that he -should employ Jasher, seeing that I have given the case to the man -under a misapprehension."</p> - -<p>"Is Jasher a clever man?"</p> - -<p>"Very--so far as I can judge."</p> - -<p>"He seems rather given to jumping to conclusions," said Merry dryly, -"seeing that he accuses Mr. Fane, who proved an <i>alibi</i> at the inquest, -and Mr. Brand, who is away in Australia. If his methods are like that, -I fear he will not do much good."</p> - -<p>"In that case you can employ another man. Here is my address," said -the professor, taking a card from his pocket. "Ask Mr. Calvert to call. -He is sure to be in my neighbourhood, as he is engaged to the -sister-in-law of Mr. Fane."</p> - -<p>He departed, leaving Merry quite stunned by this last piece of -intelligence.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER X</h4> - -<h5><a name="div1_10" href="#div1Ref_10">WHAT THE COOK FOUND</a></h5> -<br> - -<p>Mrs. Fane was seated in the White Room waiting for visitors. As usual -she was knitting, and every now and then glanced at her little girl, -who, washed and dressed and curled and bedecked with ribbons, played -with her doll. The child was very like her father, having the same -pink and white face and weak mouth. She was a pretty, pale creature, -with fair hair, almost white--what the Scots call linty--locks. Never -was there such a contrast as that between mother and child. The mother -firm, majestic, strong, composed; the child weak, restless, delicate, -and undersized. As Mrs. Fane looked at Minnie, she uttered a sigh, -being alone. Had any one been present, she would not have condescended -to such weakness.</p> - -<p>"Just like her father," thought Mrs. Fane, her firm, shapely hands -busy with the needles; "delicate, weak, irresponsible. I almost wish I -had married a strong man. I would have at least had healthy children. -No"--here she shook her head--"it's better as it is. I am my own -mistress and Walter's master. Better as it is."</p> - -<p>This complimentary train of thought was interrupted by its object. -Walter Fane, looking sleepy and dishevelled, entered the room. His -wife, who was richly and carefully dressed, looked at him with a -serene air, not without a touch of contempt.</p> - -<p>"I am expecting visitors," said she, in her calm way. "Don't you think -you had better brush yourself up?"</p> - -<p>"I don't intend to stop," replied Walter, listlessly staring out of -the window.</p> - -<p>"All the better. I don't care for tame cats," said Mrs. Fane. "A man -should be out in the open air, or at business."</p> - -<p>"You won't let me attend to the business," said Walter, shrugging.</p> - -<p>"If you were a man you would attend to it without my sanction. But -some one in this house must see to things, and if you won't the burden -must devolve on my shoulders."</p> - -<p>"As you please," said Fane, and sat down on the floor beside Minnie. -"It's pleasant enough playing with this darling."</p> - -<p>"I believe your brain is softening," said his wife, with a shadow of -anxiety. "Why don't you go for a yachting tour?"</p> - -<p>"I shall never yacht again, Julia. You will no longer have to complain -of my long absences. When is the house to be sold?"</p> - -<p>"In a month. I am arranging the business now. We will then go to -Switzerland."</p> - -<p>"I hate Switzerland."</p> - -<p>"Since you have decided to yacht no more, it doesn't matter if you -live there," said Mrs. Fane. "But you can choose your own place of -residence. It's all one to me, so long as I can see after the -business."</p> - -<p>"I don't see that we need go abroad at all," said Fane sullenly.</p> - -<p>"I see the necessity, and a very great one," retorted Mrs. Fane, with -a flash of her eyes. "Be guided by me, Walter. I know what is good for -you. And do get up from the floor. Laura will be in soon."</p> - -<p>"Fane rose reluctantly. I was sleeping this afternoon," he said, and -yet feel tired. "I think I'll dine at the club and go to the theatre."</p> - -<p>"As you please," said Mrs. Fane quietly, "so long as you don't trouble -me. And don't make love to any other woman," she added.</p> - -<p>"Julia," said Fane, pausing at the door, "do you really care for me as -much as that?"</p> - -<p>"My dear, every one has a weakness; pride is mine. I like you. I have -an affection for you, else I should not have married you. So long as -you look handsome and are well dressed, and show me the deference of a -chivalrous man to his lawful wife, I have no complaint to make. But if -you go after other women, and make me a laughing-stock amongst my -friends," added Mrs. Fane, drawing a deep breath, "I should not spare -you."</p> - -<p>Fane laughed, though rather uneasily. "One would think you would do -me an injury," he said, with another shrug.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Fane raised her eyes and looked at him steadily. "I might even do -that," she replied. "Don't hurt my pride, whatever you do. And if you -desert me in favour of----"</p> - -<p>"There's no chance of my doing that," said Walter irritably. "I -declare to heaven that I'm fond of you, Julia."</p> - -<p>"That is as it should be," retorted Mrs. Fane.</p> - -<p>Before her husband could reply there came a knock at the door, and -immediately afterwards a stolid young man in livery entered. Walter -slipped past him and got out of the room, while the man waited for his -mistress to address him. "Yes?" said Mrs. Fane interrogatively.</p> - -<p>"If you please, ma'am, the cook have gone mad," said the stolid man.</p> - -<p>"Really?" rejoined Mrs. Fane, letting her knitting fall on her lap, -but otherwise undisturbed. "And what form does her madness take?"</p> - -<p>"She says she's going to retire on a fortune, and insists, ma'am, on -coming upstairs to tell you. I think, ma'am----" The man hesitated.</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Mrs. Fane calmly; "I quite understand. This is the third -time she has indulged, and after assuring me that she had taken the -pledge. Send her up."</p> - -<p>"You will excuse me, ma'am, but cook really have found jewels."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?" This time Mrs. Fane really was amazed.</p> - -<p>"She have found jewels in the dust-hole," stammered the man, and would -have gone on to explain, but that he was roughly brushed aside by a -large female clothed in purple silk of a cheap sort, with a black -velvet cloak trimmed with beads, and a bonnet profusely trimmed with -flowers. Her face was red, and her air was that of an excited person. -This was due partly to drink and partly to excitement, and partly to a -sense of fear at thus braving her mistress, of whom she had a great -dread. The moment she entered the room the footman departed hastily, -thinking there would be a row. He went down to the kitchen, and found -the rest of the servants much excited. It seemed that the cook really -had some cause for her behaviour. At the present moment she was -explaining herself to Mrs. Fane.</p> - -<p>"If you please, mum, I wish to leave this day--this hour--this -minute," panted the cook all in a breath; "my boxes being packed and my -best clothes being on."</p> - -<p>"Indeed!" Mrs. Fane eyed the splendour with a look which made the cook -wince. "I am afraid you can't leave. You get no wages if you do. Go -downstairs."</p> - -<p>"But I don't care for my wages. Far be it from me to rob you, mum. I -am as rich as you, having found a forting in the dust-hole."</p> - -<p>"Really! May I ask what it is?"</p> - -<p>"You'll take it from me, mum," said the cook mistrustfully.</p> - -<p>If you don't show it to me at once, Gander--this was the cook's -unusual name--"I shall send for the police."</p> - -<p>"O mum, think of the scandal. I won't----" then Gander caught the -steady eyes fixed on her. The drink and the excitement were dying out -under the chilling influence of Mrs. Fane's calmness, and the cook -collapsed.</p> - -<p>"It's this, mum," and from under the cloak she brought forth a dagger -with a slim steel blade and a hilt of gold richly encrusted with -jewels. These flashed red and blue and green and yellow in the stream -of sunlight that shone through the window. Minnie caught a sight of -the glitter and clapped her hands. "Yes, my pretty," said the cook -proudly, "it's lovely, ain't it. And all my own, having been found by -me in the dust-hole."</p> - -<p>"May I look at it, Gander?" asked Mrs. Fane.</p> - -<p>The cook, still under the influence of those cold eyes, handed it over -at once, talking while she did so. But she kept her treasure-trove in -sight, and despite her awe would have fought Mrs. Fane, had that lady -shown any signs of annexing the property. "It's jewels rich and rare -with gold, mum," said Gander poetically; "emerald and sappers and -dimings and them things you read of in the book of Revelations. I -shall sell it to a jeweller as I knows, and with the money I shall -become a lady. I don't know as I'll marry," pursued the cook -meditatively; "but I'll have a little house of my own, and sit all day -in the parlour in white muslin reading novels and----"</p> - -<p>"You really must not take so much to drink, Gander," said Mrs. Fane.</p> - -<p>The cook bristled up. "Ho, indeed!" she snorted. "I'm accused of -drink, am I, when my emotions is natural, having come in for a -forting. I read it in the candle last night, and in the tea-leaves two -weeks previous, and then I----"</p> - -<p>"Cook, don't be a fool! This is by no means so costly as you think."</p> - -<p>"It's worth a thousand, if I'm a judge of stones."</p> - -<p>"Ah! but you see you are not," said Mrs. Fane cruelly. "This dagger -belongs to me. It is only imitation gold and bits of glass."</p> - -<p>Gander dropped into a chair. "Lor!" Then with an enraged screech, -"Don't tell me deceptions, whatever you do, mum. My nerves won't stand -deceptions nohow." Here Gander put a large fat hand on her ample -bosom, and observed pathetically, "I feel all of a wabble, as you -might say."</p> - -<p>"I wore this," said Mrs. Fane, fingering the dagger, "at a fancy ball, -and threw it away along with some other rubbish. I suppose that is how -it got into the dust-hole."</p> - -<p>Had the cook been quite herself, and observant, she might have -doubted this explanation, which was certainly weak. Mrs. Fane's maid -would never have carried such a dazzling object to the dust-hole, had -she seen it amidst any rubbish her mistress might have cast aside. But -Gander, deceived by fortune, broke down sobbing at the disappointment -of her hopes. "To think my 'eart should be cast up to be likewise cast -down," she gurgled. "When I went with the ashbucket I sawr that objict -aglittering like anything, being stuck in the side of the dust-hole, -as it were." Mrs. Fane listened attentively. "The 'andle showed -beautiful under some cabbige stalks, and I thought as I was made for -life. O mum"--she clasped her hands, which were encased in green -gloves--"let me take it to my jeweller, and see if he don't think -them stones of price."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Fane, shaking her head, quietly slipped the dagger into her -pocket. "It's only rubbish," she insisted, "so I'll keep it here, as -it seems to upset you. Go downstairs, Gander, and see after the -dinner. I shall overlook your conduct this time, but don't let this -sort of thing occur again. And you might look at your pledge while -you're about it."</p> - -<p>The cook rose quite crushed, but made one last effort to regain -possession of the dagger. "Findings is keepings," she observed.</p> - -<p>"Not in this house. And even had the jewels been real you would not -have been able to keep them, seeing they were found on Mr. Fane's -premises. You can tell the other servants that the dagger belongs to -me, and is merely a theatrical article. Leave the room, Gander."</p> - -<p>"I'ave been hurt in my tender part," sobbed the cook, "and now I have -to go back and be a slave. All flesh is grass, mum, and----" Here she -saw from the glitter in Mrs. Fane's eyes that the patience of her -mistress was giving out, so she hastily retreated, and made things -disagreeable in the kitchen. Mrs. Fane's explanation about the weapon -was readily accepted in the kitchen, as none of the servants were -intelligent, and Gander was well laughed at for her disappointment. -That night the dinner was unusually good at Ajax Villa, as Gander, -fearful of losing her place, wished to make amends.</p> - -<p>When the cook departed Mrs. Fane reproduced the dagger, and looked at -it musingly. While she was daintily feeling the point, Minnie came up -and asked for the pretty thing to play with. "No, dear," said Mrs. -Fane, putting the child aside, with a shade passing over her face, -"it's mother's; and say nothing to Aunt Laura about it." This she -repeated rapidly as she heard Laura's step in the winter-garden. Then -kissing the child, she replaced the weapon in her pocket.</p> - -<p>Laura, looking quiet and subdued, entered, dressed for the reception.</p> - -<p>"No one here yet, Julia?" she asked, looking round.</p> - -<p>"No. Did you expect Mr. Calvert?"</p> - -<p>Laura looked annoyed. "I did not. He is not likely to come here."</p> - -<p>"So you said the other day. Yet I found him with Walter in this room -when I came to tell him about the name of the woman being discovered." -Mrs. Fane cast a long look at Laura, who took no notice.</p> - -<p>"I think we may as well drop the subject, Julia," said the younger -sister. "You will never do Arnold justice."</p> - -<p>"I would with pleasure were he rich," said Julia blandly. "But as he -is poor I wish to discourage your infatuation by all the means in my -power. Then again, Laura, you know very little about him."</p> - -<p>"What I do know is good," retorted Laura, sitting down.</p> - -<p>"Ah, but there may be some bad in him for all that. Has he told you -all his life?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. His father and mother died when he was a child, and he was -brought up by a guardian. He has a small property, and went on the -stage to make a name."</p> - -<p>"You have seen him act in this new piece?" asked Mrs. Fane, keeping -her eyes on the knitting, but listening with all her ears for the -answer. "I think you said something about going to the Frivolity with -that Baldwin girl."</p> - -<p>"I went with Gerty, and liked the play," said Laura coldly.</p> - -<p>"Is it a modern play?" asked Mrs. Fane.</p> - -<p>"Yes," answered Miss Mason, rather surprised at this interest being -taken in the drama, for which Julia had no great love. "It is a -three-act modern comedy, <i>The Third Man</i>."</p> - -<p>"I read the notice of it, Laura dear. I fancy I remember that in the -second act there is a fancy dress ball. I suppose Mr. Calvert wears a -fancy dress in that act."</p> - -<p>"He is dressed as a Venetian. Why do you ask that?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Fane evaded the question. "My dear," she said gravely, "when I -found Mr. Calvert with Walter, I came to read about the two rooms, at -Hampstead and this house--being similar, you know. The paper said that -the other house--in Coleridge Lane, I believe--was owned by a Mrs. -Brand. Mr. Calvert admitted that he had a cousin called Flora Brand, -and I have a suspicion--no facts though--that this Flora Brand is the -woman who was murdered here."</p> - -<p>"You have no right to say that, Julia," said Laura quickly.</p> - -<p>"I have no ground to go on, certainly," admitted Mrs. Fane in a most -provokingly calm manner, "but I am certain that the woman was murdered -here, and that she is Flora Brand, Mr. Calvert's cousin."</p> - -<p>Laura, who was changing from red to white and from white to red, -looked straightly at Julia. "What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Calvert," said Mrs. Fane, "is dressed as a Venetian in the second -act of this play. Probably he would wear a dagger--as a Venetian he -would certainly wear a dagger--a stage dagger."</p> - -<p>"He does. What of that?"</p> - -<p>"Merely this." Mrs. Fane produced the dagger from her pocket. "This is -a stage weapon. The handle is tinsel and glass. It was found by Gander -in the dust-hole."</p> - -<p>Laura took the weapon and examined it with a pale face. "Go on."</p> - -<p>"Really, my dear, there is no more to say. I leave you to draw your -own inferences."</p> - -<p>"I understand," said Laura rapidly and in a low voice. "You think that -Arnold killed the woman?"</p> - -<p>"She was his cousin--the dagger is a stage weapon--Mr. Calvert often -came to this house. Put two and two together, my dear, and----"</p> - -<p>"Stop!" cried Laura furiously. "I don't believe it. Why should Arnold -come here and kill his cousin--if she is his cousin?"</p> - -<p>"He admitted she was."</p> - -<p>"He admitted, according to your own showing, that Flora Brand was. We -cannot yet be certain that the dead woman is Flora Brand."</p> - -<p>"Going by the similarity of the rooms----"</p> - -<p>"That may be a coincidence."</p> - -<p>"A very strange one, taken in conjunction with that dagger and the -relationship, of which I am fully convinced. Did you give Mr. Calvert -the latch-key?" asked Julia suddenly.</p> - -<p>"How dare you say that! Do you accuse me of aiding Arnold to kill the -woman?"</p> - -<p>"Ah! you admit that he killed her then?" said Mrs. Fane quickly.</p> - -<p>"No! no! you confuse me. The idea is ridiculous. I am losing my head -over your talk." Laura walked to and fro in an agitated manner. "He -did not--he did not. What motive could he have for killing----"</p> - -<p>"Laura"--Mrs. Fane rose with a determined air--"you know something, I -am sure. Walter noticed that you are not such good friends with this -man as you used to be. What do you know?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing!" panted Laura, as Mrs. Fane seized both her elbows and -looked into her eyes. "Let me go, Julia!"</p> - -<p>"Not until you tell me----"</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Baldwin," said the voice of the footman, and he threw open the -door. In a moment Mrs. Fane was her conventional self, and was holding -out her hand to the visitor. "How good of you to come," she said in -her sweetest tones. "Laura and I were acting a scene in a play she is -going to appear in. Amateur theatricals, you know," said Mrs. Fane, -giving the old lady no time to speak. "She takes the part of a girl -who is rather tragic. Do sit down, Mrs. Baldwin. The tea will be up -soon. How well you are looking."</p> - -<p>Bewildered under this torrent of words Mrs. Baldwin, whose brain never -moved very fast, sat down on the sofa and tried to recover herself.</p> - -<p>Laura, thankful to Julia for once in her life, concealed the dagger in -her pocket and retired to the window to recover her calmness. The -accusation of Julia had taken her by surprise, and she had been thrown -off her guard. As a matter of fact she did know something, but Julia -with her unsympathetic manner was the last person in whom she felt -inclined to confide. The two sisters in dispositions and tastes were -as far asunder as the poles.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Baldwin looked like a bird of paradise that had been out all -night in the rain. She was dressed in an ill-assorted assemblage of -colours. Some of her clothes were bran-new; others quite ancient. Her -gloves were different in size and colour, so evidently she had -snatched up one of Gerty's in a hurry. In fact, she seemed to have -dressed hastily, so uneasy was the set of her clothes. And from the -very candid confession that followed it appeared that she had, as she -put it, "taken the first things that came to hand."</p> - -<p>"If I had waited, I never should have made up my mind to come," said -Mrs. Baldwin in her complacent voice. "But after the professor told -me, I felt it was my duty to be the first to congratulate Miss Mason. -Such a change in the young man's prospects, ain't it?"</p> - -<p>"Are you talking of Mr. Calvert?" asked Mrs. Fane quickly, and with a -side-glance at Laura.</p> - -<p>"Of whom else?" responded Mrs. Baldwin genially. "My girl--Gerty's her -name--told me of the affection between Miss Mason and Mr.----"</p> - -<p>"Don't speak of it," interposed Laura, annoyed that this gossiping -woman should interfere in so delicate an affair.</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, do, Mrs. Baldwin," said Julia sweetly. "We were just talking -about Mr. Calvert when you came in."</p> - -<p>"I thought you were acting a play."</p> - -<p>"Quite so," rejoined Mrs. Fane, still sweetly. "And Mr. Calvert is to -act the lover. I was supposed to be the lover at rehearsal," she added -playfully.</p> - -<p>Laura did not contradict these enormous lies, as she would only have -had an unpleasant quarter of an hour with Julia when the visitor left. -"Who is the professor?" she asked, to change the conversation.</p> - -<p>"Why, my dear, you know him. The dark gentleman who occupies the damp -little house at the end of the meadow."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I believe he did speak to me once. But we had little -conversation. What did he tell you about Arnold--Mr. Calvert?"</p> - -<p>"Never be ashamed of speaking his Christian name, my dear," advised -Mrs. Baldwin. "Lovers will be lovers; eh, Mrs. Fane?"</p> - -<p>"It would seem so," said Julia serenely. "I dislike demonstrative -affection myself. But what did this professor say?"</p> - -<p>"Professor Bocaros is his name," said Mrs. Baldwin, who would tell her -story in her own slow way. "He told me that Mr. Calvert had come into -a fortune."</p> - -<p>"Into a fortune?" gasped Laura, turning even paler than she was.</p> - -<p>"Of course, my dear, you know all about it," said Mrs. Baldwin -playfully. "He told you that this poor woman who was killed here was -his cousin."</p> - -<p>Laura uttered an ejaculation and stared, but Julia interposed. "We did -hear something about it," she said. "Has this woman left Mr. Calvert a -fortune?"</p> - -<p>"So Professor Bocaros says," replied the other woman. "Ten thousand a -year. I suppose he'll spend some in finding how the poor soul came by -her death in this very room," said Mrs. Baldwin, with a shudder.</p> - -<p>"I suppose he will. Let us hope so," said Julia. "Laura, you are not -looking well. Had you not better lie down?"</p> - -<p>"Thank you," said Laura mechanically, and without a word left the -room. But Julia, with a hasty apology to the astonished Mrs. Baldwin, -followed, and outside the door caught her sister by the arm. "You -wanted to find a motive for Arnold Calvert committing this crime," she -said. "It was for the money."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XI</h4> - -<h5><a name="div1_11" href="#div1Ref_11">THE INQUIRY-AGENT</a></h5> -<br> - -<p>Arnold Calvert occupied rooms in Bloomsbury; pleasant old rooms in a -house which had been fashioned in Georgian times. It stood in a quiet -street undisturbed by the noise of traffic or the shrieking of -children at play. Even organ-grinders rarely came that way, as the -neighbourhood was not remunerative. Consequently the house was mostly -occupied by people of delicate health who disliked noise. Mrs. Varney, -the landlady, was a motherly old person with rather a hard eye. At one -time she had been on the stage, and traces of that period appeared in -her deliberate movements and slow voice. She always seemed as though -she were reciting Shakespeare with appropriate gestures, although she -had played but minor parts in the dramas of the bard.</p> - -<p>Arnold was Mrs. Varney's pet lodger. As he was on the stage she -frequently gave him the benefit of her advice, and Calvert always -received her stale instruction with good humour and attention. This -obedience made her love him, and he benefited by having his rooms -better looked after and his food better cooked than any of the other -lodgers. Calvert had two rooms on the second floor, a bedroom and a -pleasant sitting-room, the window of which afforded a view round the -corner of the square out of which the street led. It was an -oak-panelled room with a painted ceiling, and furnished in very good -taste. Arnold detested the frippery with which many young men of the -present day cram their rooms, and his apartment was essentially -masculine. The carpet and hangings were of dull red, the chairs and -sofa were upholstered in leather, and on two sides of the room were -dwarf book-cases containing a well-selected library. Calvert was fond -of reading--a taste he had contracted at college, and kept well -abreast of the literature of the day. In one corner of the room -stood a small piano. Over the mantel-piece was a collection of -boxing-gloves, foils, masks, and suchlike things. Portraits of -Magdalen College--which had been Calvert's <i>Alma Mater</i>--and of those -men who had been his contemporaries, adorned the walls. Then there -were many portraits of Calvert in cricketing costume, in boating -dress, in cap and gown, and in some of his stage characters. -Altogether a manly, pleasant room, quite the place for a studious man -to dream and work in. And as Arnold lived a quiet life, he indulged in -literary pursuits, as the loose papers on his desk and the presence of -a typewriter demonstrated.</p> - -<p>He was fair and handsome, with a lean clean-shaven face of the classic -type. His hair was curly, and well brushed back from a high white -forehead, and his eyes were blue and deep. Most people have shallow -eyes like those of a bird, but there was a depth in those of Calvert -which betokened a man who thought. A handsome intellectual face on the -whole, and usually bright with good health, good humour, and -contentment. At present, however, it was rather clouded.</p> - -<p>The cause of this dismal expression was to be found in the presence of -two men who were seated near the window. Arnold himself, in -riding-dress, stood on the hearth-rug with his hands in his pockets. -He had come back from a ride that morning to find two gentlemen -waiting for him. "Professor Bocaros," said Mrs. Varney in the hall, -when she admitted him; "he's a gentleman though shabby. But the other, -called Jasher, is as vulgar as his vulgar name."</p> - -<p>"This was rather hard on Mr. Jasher, who was not so vulgar as the -landlady made out. He was as stout as Bocaros was lean--a fair, -complacent, well-fed, elderly man of the Falstaff tribe. Mr. Jasher -looked as though he knew a good dinner when he sat down to one, and -was quite able to appreciate delicate cookery and good wines. His -round fat face was red and freckled, with rather full lips, twinkling -grey eyes, humorous in expression, and his hair was plentiful if -rather grey. With his fat hands folded sleepily on his rotund stomach, -Mr. Jasher looked anything but an inquiry-agent. Yet that was his -profession, as announced by Professor Bocaros. Arnold had received the -intimation calmly, though with some astonishment.</p> - -<p>"Why do you bring this man to me?" he asked curtly.</p> - -<p>"Do you know who I am?" asked Bocaros in his turn.</p> - -<p>Arnold nodded. "I do. There was a certain relative of ours who -sometimes spoke of you."</p> - -<p>"Flora Brand?"</p> - -<p>Arnold nodded again. "Mrs. Brand," said he; "she was Flora Calvert, -the daughter of my uncle. Your aunt, professor, was, I understand, her -mother. But you doubtless know of the relationship, since she told me -that you had seen her."</p> - -<p>"Twice," interposed Bocaros quickly, and then wiped his mouth. "I saw -her five or six years ago, and then shortly before her murder."</p> - -<p>Jasher looked directly at Calvert as the professor made this -statement, hoping to discern some emotion. But Arnold's face, -doubtless owing to his stage training, betrayed nothing of his -feelings. It looked as cold as the face of a Greek god, which he -rather resembled in his looks. "I am aware that Mrs. Brand was -murdered," he said; "my lawyers, Messrs. Laing and Merry, told me so -the other day."</p> - -<p>"Did they tell you about the money?" asked Bocaros, his big black eyes -fastened eagerly on the face of his cousin.</p> - -<p>This time Calvert coloured a trifle, and shifted his rather direct -gaze. "Yes," he answered; "though I do not know by what right you ask -me such a question."</p> - -<p>"I am your cousin----"</p> - -<p>"Even that does not entitle you to take such a liberty."</p> - -<p>"Bocaros looked annoyed. I am the last man to take a liberty with any -one," said he coldly, while Jasher's twinkling eyes watched his face -and the face of Calvert alternately; "but Flora, when I saw her a week -before she was murdered, told me that she had made a will in my -favour. When I went to see Merry I was informed that she had changed -her mind and had constituted you her heir."</p> - -<p>"Quite so," assented the young man. "Mr. Merry told me all this, and -of your visit. I rather expected a visit from you, professor. You want -me to help you with money----"</p> - -<p>"I want you to offer a reward in order to learn who killed your--our -cousin," burst out Bocaros swiftly.</p> - -<p>Calvert bit his lip, and the blood rushed to his fair face. "You may be -sure that I will leave no stone unturned to learn the truth," he said, -and walked in a rather agitated manner up and down the room. At length -he came to a halt opposite Jasher. "You are a private inquiry-agent," -said he. "Mr. Merry informed me that the professor, under the -impression that he had inherited the money, employed you to hunt for -the assassin of poor Mrs. Brand."</p> - -<p>"Yes--yes," cried Bocaros, shifting his chair in great excitement. "And -I bring him to you that you may employ him. I am poor--yes, I am very -poor, but I do not want money. Spend what you would give me in paying -Jasher to discover the assassin."</p> - -<p>"Is this why you bring Mr. Jasher to me?" asked Arnold.</p> - -<p>"What else?" said Bocaros. "I only saw Flora twice, but I liked -her--she was good to me. I want to know who killed her."</p> - -<p>"All the world wants to know that, professor."</p> - -<p>"Pardon me," said Jasher, in his unctuous voice. "I do not think the -world in general cares very much, Mr. Calvert. The world has grown -tired of its nine days' wonder, and now is occupying itself in other -matters. I pointed this out to the professor, and proposed that you -should remunerate me for what I have done, seeing that he cannot pay -me, and let sleeping dogs lie."</p> - -<p>"Arnold looked up sharply. What do you mean by that expression?" he -asked quickly. "Have you discovered anything?"</p> - -<p>"Jasher produced a small note-book. I have set down one or two things. -At present I am collecting evidence. When I have sufficient I will -know how to move. But"--he closed the book--"if you would like me to -destroy these pages----"</p> - -<p>"Why the devil should I, man?" demanded Calvert, frowning. "As the -cousin and the legatee of Mrs. Brand, I am doubly concerned in -learning the truth. I agree to what the professor suggests. You shall -search out this matter, and find out who killed the poor woman. I will -bear all the expense. And if you bring the guilty person to justice, I -will pay you five hundred pounds."</p> - -<p>"Consider it done," said Jasher, nodding. "I'll engage to get at the -truth. Five hundred pounds is worth earning."</p> - -<p>"Are you satisfied?" asked Calvert, turning to Bocaros.</p> - -<p>The professor, strangely enough, seeing that his errand had not been -in vain, looked rather disappointed. "Yes," he replied hesitatingly; -"it is good of you. I am very pleased." He rose. "Now we will go."</p> - -<p>"No," said Arnold, touching him on the breast, sit down. "As I pay the -piper, I call the tune. Mr. Jasher has passed from your employment -into mine. I should like to know"--he turned to Jasher--"what you have -discovered so far."</p> - -<p>"Nothing easier," said Jasher, again opening his little book. "I have -learned details from the papers, from observation, from Professor -Bocaros, and from Mr. Tracey."</p> - -<p>"Tracey!" said Calvert, starting. "I remember. He was the American -whose car was stolen."</p> - -<p>"You know him better than that, Mr. Calvert," burst in the professor. -"He is engaged to Miss Baldwin, the great friend of the young lady whom -you are to marry."</p> - -<p>Arnold turned on the Greek sharply. "How do you know that?"</p> - -<p>"I live in a house near Mrs. Baldwin. She is my landlady. I know -Tracey and Miss Baldwin. I have met Miss Mason, and----"</p> - -<p>"And Miss Mason told you," interposed Arnold.</p> - -<p>"No. Mr. Tracey, informed by Miss Baldwin, told me. And it struck me -as strange," added Bocaros, in rather a venomous tone, "that you should -be engaged to the girl in whose house Flora was murdered."</p> - -<p>"It belongs to her brother-in-law," said Calvert coldly. "Do you mean -to hint, professor, that I know anything about this crime?"</p> - -<p>"No," interposed Jasher, making a sign to Bocaros to hold his tongue, -"he doesn't mean anything of the sort. Merely a coincidence, Mr. -Calvert, such as will occur in real life."</p> - -<p>"Of course." Bocaros nodded and spoke with less significance. "I mean -that it is merely a coincidence."</p> - -<p>Calvert looked from one to the other suspiciously, but set a mask on -his face so that they should not guess what was passing in his mind. -"We may as well understand one another," he said coolly. "If you, -professor, or you, Mr. Jasher, are under the impression that I have -anything to do with this crime--and you may think so from the fact -that being notoriously hard up and notoriously anxious to marry Miss -Mason I wanted this money--you are quite mistaken. I am engaged at the -Frivolity Theatre from seven till close on midnight every night. I can -prove what the law calls an <i>alibi</i>, and if you will apply to the -stage manager of the theatre, you may convince yourself of the fact."</p> - -<p>"My dear sir," said Jasher deprecatingly, since Calvert was now his -employer, "no one suspects you."</p> - -<p>"I thought from what Bocaros hinted----"</p> - -<p>"No! no! I said it was merely a coincidence," said the professor -quickly. "The very fact that you are willing to employ Jasher, and -offer so large a reward, proclaims your innocence."</p> - -<p>"I have no need to resort to such things," said Calvert angrily. "I -only learned that the dead woman was my cousin from the fact of the -White Room----"</p> - -<p>"But how did that lead to your identification of Flora with the dead -woman?" asked Bocaros shrewdly.</p> - -<p>Arnold seemed confused. "I saw in the paper that the White Room had -been remarked by a man called Webb, who had communicated with the -police. It was then found by Inspector Derrick that Mrs. Brand had -been missing. I fancied that she might be the unknown woman. I was -informed that this was the truth by Merry, who has communicated with -the police. I did not see the body or I would have been able to -identify it. But Derrick found a portrait of my cousin, and says it is -that of the dead woman."</p> - -<p>This was rather a roundabout explanation, and Bocaros curled his lip. -In spite of his denial he seemed to suspect Arnold. But that Jasher -touched his arm he would have asked a question. As it was he allowed -the agent to speak. "You knew that your cousin had such a room?" asked -Jasher.</p> - -<p>"Yes. Certainly I knew."</p> - -<p>"Then you have sometimes visited her?"</p> - -<p>"I have. My cousin and I were good friends. I did not see much of her -certainly, but I have been in her house."</p> - -<p>"Did you know that Mr. Fane had a similar white room?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. He told me it was his own idea. I said that some one else had -been beforehand. That I had a cousin who had such a room."</p> - -<p>"Did you mention your cousin's name?"</p> - -<p>"Not at the time. Flora said that the White Room was her own idea, and -Fane insisted that the idea was original, emanating from his brain. I -thought it was a coincidence."</p> - -<p>"There appear to be a great many coincidences about this case in -connection with you," murmured Bocaros, but of this remark Calvert for -his own reasons took no notice.</p> - -<p>"Seeing that your cousin was killed in the White Room in Ajax Villa, -Mr. Calvert," pursued Jasher, "did it not strike you that it would be -wise to draw the attention of the police to the other White Room?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly not. Why should I have connected Flora with the dead woman? -I never knew she was missing until the man Webb of Hampstead drew -attention to her disappearance, and by that time the White Room at -Hampstead had become known to the police. In fact, the room there, -taken in connection with Mrs. Brand's disappearance, made Webb write -to the police. I don't see how you can blame me."</p> - -<p>"I do not," said the agent patiently. "I am only trying to get at the -truth."</p> - -<p>"I don't know it."</p> - -<p>"You know Miss Mason, and she is the sister-in-law of Fane----"</p> - -<p>"What of that? Do you mean to hint that she----"</p> - -<p>"No! no!" said Jasher hastily; "but it was stated at the inquest that -Fane alone had the latch-key, that it was never out of his possession, -that the man who made it--invented that particular latch-key I may -say--never made another. How then did Mrs. Brand enter the house, and -how did she know that the family were at the seaside?"</p> - -<p>"I cannot tell you. Why do you ask me?"</p> - -<p>"I thought Miss Mason--seeing that you are engaged to her--might have -spoken out."</p> - -<p>Arnold's face grew red. "I forbid you to bring Miss Mason's name into -the matter," he cried imperiously; "she has nothing to do with this -affair. She was stopping with Mrs. Baldwin on that night, and never -went near Ajax Villa when her sister was absent. Fane and his wife -were at the seaside--so were the servants. How can you implicate any -of these people?"</p> - -<p>"I don't say that I can," retorted Jasher. "I am simply groping in the -dark. But the fact remains that Mr. Fane alone had the latch-key. It -must have been out of his possession so that some one could take an -impression and have a duplicate made, or----"</p> - -<p>"Well, or what?"</p> - -<p>"I'll tell you," said Bocaros coming away from the window, "or Mr. Fane -must have been the young man who spoke to the officer and who killed -the woman--poor Flora."</p> - -<p>"You forget," said Arnold coolly, "it was proved that the woman was -alive when the young man in question was talking to the policeman."</p> - -<p>"On the contrary," said the professor smoothly, "it was proved that the -woman--poor Flora--was dead three hours when the woman was singing and -the young man luring the policeman away."</p> - -<p>"How dare you say that the man lured the policeman away!" cried Arnold -furiously; "your ignorance of English law, professor, excuses your -loose talk. But you are accusing every one without any basis of fact. -What is your opinion, Jasher?"</p> - -<p>"I haven't got one as yet," said Jasher, putting his book away and -rising; "so far I can't see light. But I will go away and search, and -then come back to tell you if I have discovered anything."</p> - -<p>"In what direction will you search?" asked Calvert uneasily.</p> - -<p>"I shall search in the direction of the latch-key. Fane alone had it, -so I want to learn Fane's doings on that night."</p> - -<p>"He was at the seaside."</p> - -<p>"So he says," said Jasher significantly.</p> - -<p>"And so Mrs. Fane says," said Bocaros quickly. "Better look for the -young man with the pointed beard."</p> - -<p>"The police have looked everywhere and he has not been found," said -Arnold calmly, "and I don't think he will be found."</p> - -<p>The professor was about to speak when Jasher pulled him to the door. -When there he spoke. "By the way, Mr. Calvert, did you ever see Mr. -Brand?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"No. I never did."</p> - -<p>"Did you ever see his portrait?"</p> - -<p>"No"--but this time Calvert's denial was not so emphatic--"I didn't."</p> - -<p>Jasher nodded. "That's all right," said he. "I'll come back in a few -days and tell you about the latch-key."</p> - -<p>When the two withdrew, Calvert sat down in an armchair and buried his -face in his hands. His head was whirling, and his mind was much -troubled. So buried was he in his reflections that he did not hear the -door open. He was not conscious that any one was in the room till a -hand was laid on his shoulders. With a start he sprang to his feet. He -looked and saw Laura Mason.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XII</h4> - -<h5><a name="div1_12" href="#div1Ref_12">ARNOLD AND LAURA</a></h5> -<br> - -<p>The lovers looked at one another in terror. Calvert, surprised by -Laura's sudden entrance, had no time to compose his features. She, -seeing his face, and coming to him already filled with suspicions -against which she strove vainly to fight, reflected the paleness and -haggard looks which startled her. For the moment both masks had -dropped, and these human beings, devoured by terror, stared at one -another as though the fabled Gorgon had changed them into stone. -Arnold was the first to recover himself. He smoothed his face to a -smile, and held out his hands, which she took in a passive manner. "I -did not expect to see you here, dearest," he said, leading her to a -chair. "But how ill you look. Nothing is wrong, I hope."</p> - -<p>Laura sat down still gazing at him, but did not reply. "How does my -sister's maid come to be in this house?" she asked abruptly.</p> - -<p>"Your sister's maid?" he repeated, staring.</p> - -<p>"Yes; Emily Doon. I saw her in the hall as the landlady let me in. As -soon as she caught sight of me she vanished down the stairs to the -basement. And those two men----"</p> - -<p>"One question at a time, dear," said Arnold calmly. He had now quite -recovered his composure, and was prepared to deal with the situation. -"And I shall answer the last first. The men who left me are a Mr. -Jasher and Professor----"</p> - -<p>"Bocaros," cried Laura, striking her gloved hands together. "I thought -I knew his face. I saw him once at Mrs. Baldwin's. He lives in a -cottage across the meadow, and sometimes comes to borrow her paper. -What a horrid face--what a detestable man!"</p> - -<p>Arnold looked rather surprised at her vehemence. "I certainly do not -like the professor, and I met him to-day for the first time. It -happens oddly enough that we are connected."</p> - -<p>"Connected?" echoed Laura. "Wait; I have some sort of idea. The -professor told Mr. Tracey that he was a cousin of this woman who was -killed at Ajax Villa----"</p> - -<p>"Her mother was the aunt of Bocaros," explained Calvert.</p> - -<p>"And you are a cousin of the dead woman?"</p> - -<p>"She was Flora Calvert before she married Brand, the daughter of my -uncle. Bocaros and I are connected in a way by marriage. As to Mrs. -Fane's maid being here--we shall soon learn the reason," and he -touched the button of the electric bell.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Varney, with her majestic air and false smile, answered so -rapidly that it would seem she had been watching, if such a stately -female would descend so low. She smiled ingratiatingly on Laura, who, -without waiting for Arnold to speak, put the question. "I saw my -sister's maid, Emily Doon, as I entered," she said; "what is she doing -here?"</p> - -<p>"What eyes you have, miss, I declare," said Mrs. Varney in her deep -voice. "Yes, miss, it is Emily. She is my younger sister. I was a Miss -Doon before I became Mrs. Varney. Your sister kindly gave Emily -permission to spend a happy day with me, and this afternoon we are -going to a matinée--<i>Hamlet</i>," said the landlady in her most serious -voice, "the whole of it--lasting five hours."</p> - -<p>Having thus stated her case, Mrs. Varney waited in the attitude of a -startled fawn for a reply. Laura apologised. "I beg your pardon for -asking," she said colouring; "it is, of course, none of my business, -but I was naturally surprised at seeing Emily here."</p> - -<p>"Ah," Mrs. Varney cast a look at Arnold, "we know all, miss. Emily has -told me. Juliet's garden--and the Forest of Arden----"</p> - -<p>"We are engaged, Mrs. Varney," said Arnold, enraged by the -impertinence of the landlady.</p> - -<p>With her false smile she turned to the door. "Certainly, sir, but as -Miss Mason is in the Forest of Arden I would like her to know that -Emily is likewise there. That was why she was in the hall. She has an -eye to Professor Bocaros," burst out Mrs. Varney with pride; "he -admiring her greatly, and living in the vicinity of Ajax Villa. -Good-day, miss, and----" the landlady looked as though she would have -liked to add, "Bless you!" but an imperious glance from Arnold sent -her rapidly out of the room. Stately as Mrs. Varney was, she loved to -be bullied as all women in their hearts do. Arnold's imperious manner -only made her admire him the more. Had he been a bully in addition, -she would doubtless have adored him.</p> - -<p>"I don't like it, Arnold," said Laura, starting to her feet when the -door closed. "Professor Bocaros, in spite of his looks and poverty, is -a gentleman. Why should he take notice of Emily, who is merely a -servant? And she is here--oh, what does it mean?"</p> - -<p>Arnold, amazed by this outburst, looked at her in surprise. "My dear, -what does it matter?" he said, pressing her to resume her seat. "I -don't care if Bocaros marries a laundress. He has nothing to do with -me."</p> - -<p>"He is a dangerous man, and you are in his way."</p> - -<p>"Am I? What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"Can't you understand, Arnold? He told Mr. Tracey that his cousin and -yours, Mrs. Brand, intended to leave him the money. I learned from -Mrs. Baldwin, who heard it from the professor himself, that you have -got the ten thousand a year. The professor is poor--from what Mrs. -Baldwin told me he is wretchedly poor. Do you think such a man will -tamely submit to the loss of a fortune? No, Arnold, no. He is -dangerous. Take care. If Emily Doon has an eye to marrying the -professor, she is not in this house for nothing."</p> - -<p>Calvert tried to soothe the excited girl. "My dear, you are unduly -suspicious. Mrs. Varney has given us the reason for the maid's being -here. Bocaros cannot harm me in any way----"</p> - -<p>"Are you so sure?" asked Laura sharply.</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"I mean that you will not be open with me. I love you. Have I not -proved how I love you. Julia is against our marriage: but in spite of -what she says I have remained true to you. Yet you will not trust me?"</p> - -<p>"With what? I am quite in the dark."</p> - -<p>He may have been. Yet there was a deep colour in his cheeks, and he -looked uneasy. Laura saw these symptoms of emotion, and placed her -hands on his shoulders. "Arnold," she said earnestly, "if you have any -love for me you will speak out. Look at this!" she hastily drew from -her pocket the stage dagger. "This is yours?"</p> - -<p>"It is," he admitted readily, and with a look of great surprise. "If -you remember it was bought by me for the second act of this play. I -showed it to you and----"</p> - -<p>"You did. You showed it to me before the murder!"</p> - -<p>Arnold looked at her in silence. "Perhaps you will permit me to -explain," he said coldly, "as I really do not understand what you mean -by such a speech. I lost that dagger----"</p> - -<p>"You threw it into the dustbin after killing that poor woman!"</p> - -<p>"Laura!" Calvert rose to his feet pale and trembling. From being a -calm and resolute man he suddenly seemed to change into a coward. With -white lips and a drooping figure, he stood in the middle of the room. -"You will never say anything more cruel than that to me," he said in a -low voice, and covered his face.</p> - -<p>Laura looked with sudden joy overspreading her face. "You are -innocent," she cried, running to throw her arms round his neck. "I -knew it. I was certain. Dearest, I never believed--never. I said what -I did say only to try you. But I know now that you did not kill this -woman. I feel it in my heart. You forgive me--you forgive me--come, -kiss me, Arnold--kiss me and make friends."</p> - -<p>In a lifeless manner he kissed her, and then submitted to be taken to -his former seat. "Now that we understand one another," said Laura, -sitting down and keeping his hand imprisoned within her own, "we must -have a long talk. You are innocent----"</p> - -<p>"How can you be sure of that?"</p> - -<p>"Because I am," she replied determinedly. "No, Arnold. Even if you -swore that you were guilty I would not believe it. I tried you by -making what you truthfully call a cruel speech, and your reply, -although it may sound nothing to other people, brought conviction into -my heart. But if I trust you, other people don't. This dagger!"</p> - -<p>"Where was it found?" asked Calvert, examining it, but still pale.</p> - -<p>"In the dustbin. The cook found it. She brought it to Julia, who -pretended that it was one she had worn at a fancy ball. Then Julia -hinted at your guilt, from the fact that you must have worn such a -dagger in the second act of the play. I denied that this was so, and -came to see you. Arnold, you must be plain with me. For some time, -since the murder in fact, you must have seen how I have avoided -you--how I have kept out of your way."</p> - -<p>"Yes," he said with bitterness, "I saw that. When I called at the -house on that day a week or so ago, you avoided me. You have hardly -replied to my letters save in the coldest way. You suspect me----"</p> - -<p>"No," answered Laura quickly; "I do not, though I have cause to."</p> - -<p>Arnold looked at her keenly. "What do you mean?" he asked quietly.</p> - -<p>"Surely you remember the appointment you made with me?"</p> - -<p>"What appointment?" he said, still eyeing her, and the colour again -ebbing from his face.</p> - -<p>"For the night of the 24th July at half-past nine--on the very night -that poor creature was killed."</p> - -<p>"Laura!" his voice was firmer now, and his looks expressed amazement; -"it was you who made the appointment. You sent me----"</p> - -<p>"Wait, Arnold. One thing at a time. There is something terrible and -mysterious about this. I suspect pitfalls and snares likely to bring -us into danger. I say, and I can prove it, that you made the -appointment. I have your letter in my pocket asking me to meet you at -half-past nine on that night. I would have destroyed it so as to put -away all evidence of your having been at Ajax Villa on that night, but -I kept it, as I wished to show it to you, and to ask how you came to -gain possession of Walter's latch-key!"</p> - -<p>"You sent it to me!" he said, much astonished. "I have your letter -also. The key was lost."</p> - -<p>"You dropped it in the road when you spoke to the policeman?"</p> - -<p>Arnold nodded. "But how did you guess that I was the man who left the -house--the man for whom the police are searching?"</p> - -<p>"Mulligan described your dress and said you had a pointed beard. You -have such a suit and such a beard in the last act of the play. I knew -then that you came later than I expected to keep the appointment, and -in your hurry you had left the theatre without waiting to change your -clothes or take off the false beard."</p> - -<p>"In that case," said Arnold, very pale, "you must think me guilty of -Flora's death, seeing that I left the house when----"</p> - -<p>"No," interrupted Laura quickly; "you did not come, at half-past nine, -for I was at the gate waiting for you. I rang the bell, since you said -you would admit me in your letter. As you came finally in your stage -clothes, you must have been unable to get away earlier from the -theatre. Therefore, as Flora was murdered before nine o'clock you must -be innocent. But I never thought you guilty," she added tenderly, -wreathing her arms round his neck, and whatever any one said I would -never believe you killed the woman. You are not the man to commit a -brutal murder. "Yet Arnold," her arms dropped and she looked anxious, -"the evidence is strong. This dagger is yours, you left the house, the -police are looking for you and----"</p> - -<p>"All that goes for nothing, seeing I was not at the house before nine -o'clock."</p> - -<p>"You were not?" she exclaimed joyfully.</p> - -<p>"No! Listen, Laura, and I will tell you the whole truth and you will -see why I kept silent. Like yourself--seeing that you deny writing the -letter----"</p> - -<p>"Show it to me. We must have a clear ground before we can go further. -Here is the letter I received. Look at it while I see if Mrs. Varney -is lurking outside. I don't trust that woman, and now that I know my -sister's maid, who loves Professor Bocaros, is here, I trust her less -than ever. O Arnold, how I wish I had come to see you before!"</p> - -<p>"It would have been better. Why did you not?"</p> - -<p>"I was afraid. Arnold, how could I come to you and declare that the -man I loved was guilty? I did not believe it--no--but I knew that you -had the key--that you had been in the house on that night!"</p> - -<p>"I can explain that," said Calvert quickly; "see if all is safe and -return to your seat."</p> - -<p>While Laura peered outside the door, he opened a cash-box and took -therefrom a letter. This he laid open on the desk beside the letter -given to him by Laura. When she returned, having ascertained that the -coast was clear, he pointed to this last. "I never wrote that," he -said firmly; "it is a forgery."</p> - -<p>"And the letter you received is one also," said Laura, staring at the -document; "and oh, what a clumsy one! See--I do not separate my words -like that. I often forget to dot my 'i's' and cross my 't's.' The -signature is excellent--exactly like mine, but the rest of the letter -is very bad--not at all a good imitation."</p> - -<p>"But you will observe," said Arnold, pointing again, "that you end -'yours in haste.' I thought the hurried writing was thereby accounted -for. Although I never suspected but that the letter was yours, I -certainly thought that the calligraphy was different to your usual -neat handwriting."</p> - -<p>"I always write neatly," she replied, "and this letter is one I should -have been ashamed to send out. But I use this colour and texture of -paper," she sniffed it, "and the same kind of scent. I wonder how the -person who forged this came to get my stationery. But, Arnold, your -letter is written from the theatre--here is the printed name both on -the envelope and inside sheet. How could I doubt but that the letter, -was yours. It came to me by post at Mrs. Baldwin's."</p> - -<p>"And yours containing the latch-key came on the afternoon of the 24th -July. It was delivered by messenger to Mrs. Varney, who brought it to -me."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean by containing the latch-key?"</p> - -<p>"Let us examine the letter first. Then you will see!"</p> - -<p>The letter to Arnold at his lodgings, written on perfumed, -lavender-tinted paper, contained a few hurried lines asking him to -meet Laura at Ajax Villa on the night of the 24th July at half-past -nine. "I may be a little late," the letter continued, "so I send you the -latch-key, which I got from Walter who is at the seaside. You can let -yourself in." The letter ended with an admonition not to fail to keep -the appointment, and was signed with what appeared unmistakably to be -Laura Mason's signature.</p> - -<p>"I never wrote a line of it," said Laura, very pale; "and I never sent -the latch-key. Walter was at the seaside certainly, but he would not -have given me the key out of fear of Julia. I stopped with the -Baldwins and never went to the villa while Julia was away."</p> - -<p>"The letter to Laura at Mrs. Baldwin's, written on paper belonging to -the Frivolity Theatre, likewise contained a few hurried lines saying -that the writer would be with her as asked, at half-past nine on the -night of the 24th of July, that he would obey instructions if he was -early and admit her into the house if she rang the bell. It also -stated that his understudy would play his part in <i>The Third Man</i> so -that the appointment could be kept.</p> - -<p>"I never wrote a line of that," said Arnold when Laura had finished -reading the letter. "When did you get it?"</p> - -<p>"On the afternoon of the 24th. I was astonished, as I knew I had not -written you a letter about the villa, and I wondered how you would be -able to let me in."</p> - -<p>"Now observe, Laura," said Calvert, sitting down, "both these letters -are delivered to you and I so late that there is no chance of our -meeting for an explanation save at Ajax Villa. It seems to me like a -trap--whether for you or for me I cannot say--perhaps for us both."</p> - -<p>"Did you really come to the villa?" asked Laura, knitting her brows.</p> - -<p>"I did. You were right in your guess about my being the man who spoke -to Mulligan. When I received your letter I asked the manager to let my -understudy take the part. He made some objection, but finally he gave -permission for the change. Then I came home, intending to keep the -appointment at half-past nine, and wondering what you wished to say, -seeing that we had met three days previously, and then you had given -no hint of your possession of the latch-key."</p> - -<p>"I wondered in exactly the same way," exclaimed the girl. "I said to -Mrs. Baldwin on Saturday night--<i>the</i> night you know--that I would go -out for a stroll, the evening being hot. Gerty was at the theatre with -Mr. Tracey. I then went to the villa at half-past nine or a little -later. I did not see you, and but few people were about. I slipped -into the garden so as not to be seen waiting in the road. I was afraid -lest any of Julia's friends should see me. I then rang the bell -somewhere near a quarter to ten, thinking you had arrived and were -within. I rang and rang but no one appeared, so I fancied you had not -been able to get away from the theatre, and returned to Mrs. Baldwin. -I said I had been strolling in the Nightingales' Walk."</p> - -<p>"Did you see a light in the room where the crime was committed?"</p> - -<p>"No! Had I done so I should have waited. But the villa was quite in -darkness," said the girl decisively. "You did not come?"</p> - -<p>"I did later. There was a chapter of accidents. I came home rather -tired and lay down to sleep after dinner. When I awoke it was nine -o'clock. How I came to oversleep myself I can't say. I usually waken -when I wish. Then a message came from the theatre just as I was -getting ready to come--although I knew I would be late for the -appointment. My understudy was taken ill, so I had to go back and -finish the play. Afterwards, so eager was I to see if you were -waiting, that I left the theatre without changing my clothes. I took a -fast cab and reached Achilles Avenue about twenty or fifteen minutes -to eleven."</p> - -<p>"Did you drive up to the door?" asked Laura.</p> - -<p>"No; I thought, for your sake, it was best to keep my visit quiet. I -left the cab in Circe Street, and walked to the villa. No one was -about. I went into the garden, but did not see you. I then walked into -the house, letting myself in by the front door. I knew that you must -have gone away, but I opened the door, just to see if you had left a -note. Also I saw a light on the second story and fancied you must have -got in and were perhaps waiting for me. These things are rather -contradictory," added Arnold, passing his hand across his face, "but -the mystery of your letter and the appointment rather worried me. -However, I went in, and up to the White Room. There I saw a woman -lying, dead face upwards on the mat before the piano. I saw that she -was my cousin and was horrified. I turned the body over, and found -the wound. She had been murdered. I was horrified. At first I intended -to give the alarm. Then I thought that I might be accused of the -crime----"</p> - -<p>"But you had no motive," said Laura, "unless you knew that the money -would come to you in the event of her death."</p> - -<p>"I did not know that," said Arnold quickly; "no one was more -astonished than I when I heard of the will. But at the time I was -overcome by the horror of the deed. I had not my wits about me. I -wondered how Flora came there. Then, my being her cousin and having -the latch-key. O Laura, can you not guess that I lost my head! waited -to see how I could escape. I went down the stairs, and then opened the -door. Mulligan was leaning over the gate. I went and spoke to him, and -escaped in the way the papers stated. I lost the latch-key and so I -was connected with the matter. Thanks to my stage dress and make-up, -no one thought I was the man mentioned in the papers. I did not come -forward at the inquest. Now that the money has come to me, I dare -not come forward. Here is the motive for the commission of the -crime,"--Arnold walked up and down the room feverishly---"no one will -believe me guiltless. Laura, don't ask me any more. The peril of my -position overwhelms me."</p> - -<p>"Darling." Laura rose to embrace him. "I believe in your innocence. We -will find out who killed the woman. Do you suspect any one?"</p> - -<p>"No," said Arnold after a pause, and with an effort; "how can I suspect -any one? I know very little of my cousin. But now that I have the -money, I intend to learn the truth. Laura, Professor Bocaros seems to -suspect me. I can't say why he should. He cannot possibly know I was -at the villa on that night. He brought Jasher to me, and to avert all -suspicion, I engaged Jasher to hunt for the assassin."</p> - -<p>"O Arnold, have you laid that bloodhound on your own track?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; it seems foolish, but it is wise. Even if Jasher does learn that -I was at the villa, he will say nothing if I pay him well. He is a -venal creature, as I gathered this morning. He may find the real -criminal, and take this horror out of my life. If he does not, he will -never hurt me if I pay. It is the professor I fear."</p> - -<p>"We must keep the professor quiet, Arnold. Let Mr. Jasher hunt. He may -learn the truth, and that is better than this suspense. But what of -the dagger I brought you?"</p> - -<p>"It is mine. But after showing it to you I went to see my cousin. I -left it there, I fancy, and it must have been Flora who took it to -Ajax Villa--Heaven knows why! Laura, what is to be done?"</p> - -<p>"Wait! wait!" she said, with her arms round him. "You are innocent, -and your innocence will be proved. You employ Jasher. I shall ask Mr. -Tracey to help me."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XIII</h4> - -<h5><a name="div1_13" href="#div1Ref_13">ON THE TRACK</a></h5> -<br> - -<p>Mr. Jasher was a man who in his time had played many parts on the stage -of the world. He loved money, and the ease and comfort which a -judicious expenditure of money would procure. But he was not -sufficiently successful in making an income. Several ventures had -turned out badly before he opened his private inquiry-office, and -hitherto that had not seemed likely to be a triumph. The work was hard -and the pay not very good, and for some months Mr. Jasher had been -contemplating the wisdom of giving up the business and starting as a -theatrical manager. He was fond of the stage, and in the United States -he had produced several dramas at a dead loss. But the English people -being less clever than the Yankees, Jasher thought he would again -venture on a theatrical agency.</p> - -<p>It was about this time that Professor Bocaros called to see him. A -chance of making a great deal of money out of the simple scholar -presented itself to Jasher, and he took up the matter himself. It was -so difficult that the detective--for so he was in fact--did not think -it wise to trust the elucidation of the mystery to meaner hands. He -resolved to attend to it personally, and charge accordingly. The -discovery that the money had passed to Calvert was not pleasing to -Jasher, as he had now to deal with a man more shrewd and less inclined -to pay largely. However, supported by Bocaros, Jasher called at the -Bloomsbury lodgings of the actor, and ended, as has been seen, in -getting the business of hunting down the assassin of Flora Brand. It -was not an easy mystery to unravel.</p> - -<p>"But the first thing to be done," said Mr. Jasher to himself in the -solitude of his office, "is to find out what sort of a cove Calvert -is. If he's what I call a stinger, I'll have to go straight. If he -ain't, I'll buckle to and do my best. But in any way I'll get all the -money I can out of him."</p> - -<p>In pursuance of this amiable resolve, Jasher sought out several -theatrical folk whom he knew well. The report of Calvert was that he -had a strong will, but was very good-natured. It was considered that -he would never be an actor, and old-fashioned stagers believed that it -was merely through his good looks and his fashionable clothes he -obtained engagements. But Jasher knew the jealousy of those connected -with the green-room, and determined to see Calvert act with his own -eyes. According to the force and talent displayed by the young man, he -might be able to estimate the depth of his character.</p> - -<p>Having thus made up his mind, Jasher treated himself to a seat in the -pit of the Frivolity Theatre. The audience was small as the play was -not a great success. "It's a good thing he's got this fortune," was -the agent's reflection, "as this piece won't run long; and being out -of an engagement, he wouldn't have much chance of marrying that girl -he's sweet on, according to old Bocaros."</p> - -<p>The play was not a good one; the best scene being in the middle act, -wherein a masked ball took place. Calvert was dressed as a Venetian, -and looked remarkably handsome in black velvet and gold. During the -scene he had to draw his dagger, and this drew Jasher's attention to -the fact that he wore such a weapon. But he did not give the matter -much thought. It was only when Arnold came on in the last act in a -tweed suit with a reddish pointed beard that he started. It occurred -to him that he had heard from a friend in the police of how the young -man met by Mulligan had been thus attired. A description of the young -man, save in a vague way, had not been put into the papers. And -probably Jasher, but that his mind was full of the murder, would not -have noticed the dress and general appearance. As it was, the -remembrance of the dagger and the fact of the tweed suit and pointed -beard made him reflect. Also the fact that Arnold was engaged to the -sister-in-law of the man to whom the villa belonged made him lay -unusual stress on the matter.</p> - -<p>"Blest if I don't think he's got something to do with the matter, -professor," he said to Bocaros that same evening.</p> - -<p>The Greek, anxious to know how matters were proceeding, had made an -appointment with Jasher at a Soho restaurant after the theatre, and -was now at the supper-table looking more haggard and lean than ever -with his blazing eyes and funereal looks. Disappointed at being -deprived of Mrs. Brand's fortune, Bocaros--as Laura surmised -rightly--was angry with Arnold for having obtained it. The remarks he -had made in the young man's presence were mere fault-finding words, as -he had no reason, on the face of it, to suspect him of being connected -with the crime. Moreover, Arnold's ready acceptance of Jasher as an -agent to search out the matter must have done away with all idea that -he was guilty. No man would be such a fool as to put a bloodhound of -the law on his own track, and when he had succeeded in gaining his end -without danger. But when Jasher made the above remark Bocaros looked -at him eagerly.</p> - -<p>"That is my idea," he declared quickly. "I have no grounds to go upon. -But Calvert is engaged to Miss Mason. In her brother-in-law's house -Flora was killed, so he must know something."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I don't see that," mused Jasher; "you go too fast, professor. Of -course those facts, and the fact that he gets a large income, may seem -suspicious, but being engaged at the theatre every night puts his -guilt out of the question. But to learn all I can about Calvert, I -have asked his understudy to come to supper." Jasher glanced at his -watch. "He'll be here soon, and then we can talk."</p> - -<p>"From your description," said Bocaros, who stuck to his point, -"Calvert is the young man who spoke to Mulligan."</p> - -<p>"I think that. He has the clothes and the beard described by the -officer. But if he was the man, he would hardly be such a fool as to -retain such a make-up."</p> - -<p>"Yes, he would," persisted Bocaros; "safety often lies in danger. If -Calvert had changed his make-up and a description had appeared in the -papers, suspicion would have been excited."</p> - -<p>"True; but no description appeared, or only a vague one."</p> - -<p>"Calvert did not know that. He thought it best to keep to his make-up, -trusting that people--who are generally stupid--would never connect -his stage appearance with that of the man in real life. He is the man, -I am sure, and he came out of the house."</p> - -<p>"But it doesn't say he killed Mrs. Brand."</p> - -<p>"He had ten thousand a year to gain by doing so."</p> - -<p>"Quite right. But the woman was killed before nine, and during that -hour Calvert was engaged at the theatre."</p> - -<p>"That's true enough," said the professor gloomily, "all the same it -seems queer. I believe he is guilty."</p> - -<p>"Hush!" said Jasher, looking round uneasily; "don't talk so loud. You -never know who may hear. Keep to generalities. Ah, here is Hart."</p> - -<p>"The young man who came to the supper-table was a languid and -fashionable youth, who, having run through his money, had gone on the -stage to delight the public. As yet he had not made a success, and, -judging from his looks, never would. Having got into trouble over some -gambling debt, he had enlisted the services of Jasher. That astute -gentleman had managed to settle the affair, and Hart was consequently -willing to be friendly. He sat down with a bored air, and declared -that he was almost dead. He acknowledged his introduction to Bocaros -with a slight and supercilious nod.</p> - -<p>"You work too hard," said Jasher, when Mr. Hart was engaged in eating.</p> - -<p>"It's hard work hanging round the theatre waiting for a chance," said -the other.</p> - -<p>"You have got one," said the detective; "ain't you engaged at the -Frivolity Theatre?"</p> - -<p>"Only as Calvert's understudy," said the discontented youth. "I have to -be at the theatre waiting for my chance should he fall ill. He's too -clever to let me go on, and he can't act a bit. I could make a -magnificent part of the one he spoils." And Hart began to explain the -lines upon which he would--as he put it--create the part.</p> - -<p>"Have you never had an opportunity of playing?" asked the professor, -piling up little bits of bread in a listless manner.</p> - -<p>"I had once," said Hart frankly, "but just my bad luck. I messed up -the chance."</p> - -<p>"Ah," said Jasher quickly, "how was that?"</p> - -<p>"Well, don't you say anything," said Hart, glancing round, "as it -would do me harm with the profession. Nobody will take much notice so -long as it ain't talked about. It's only known in the theatre, and -Calvert, who is a good-natured sort of chap, promised to hold his -tongue."</p> - -<p>"Oh," said Bocaros, meaningly, and looking up with eagerness, "he -promised to hold his tongue, did he? About what?"</p> - -<p>"My messing up my chance. You see Calvert didn't feel well one night, -and I went on. I did act A1, and was scoring all round, when I got so -excited that I fell ill. My heart ain't very strong," added the youth, -"and that's why I can't take Turkish baths."</p> - -<p>"Well, well," said Jasher, looking a very benevolent stout gentleman, -and sipping his wine with relish, "what happened when you fell ill?"</p> - -<p>"Why, they had to send for Calvert. Luckily he was at his lodgings."</p> - -<p>"Also ill?" put in the professor.</p> - -<p>"No. He said he was ill, but he wasn't. He came and took my place for -the last act, and they said he never acted better in his life."</p> - -<p>"About what time does the third act commence?"</p> - -<p>"About ten."</p> - -<p>"And Calvert came to the theatre at that time?"</p> - -<p>"A few minutes before," said Hart, attacking some cheese.</p> - -<p>"So he was disengaged on that evening up to that time. Ill at home?"</p> - -<p>"He was away from the theatre, if that is what you mean," said the -young man, "but he wasn't ill, so far as I know, in spite of what he -said. It was a fake of some sort. I guess there was a girl in it."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?" asked Bocaros excitedly.</p> - -<p>Hart started. "Why, nothing. Only some of our chaps were ragging him -about getting away that evening to meet a girl."</p> - -<p>"Did he deny that he was going to do so?"</p> - -<p>"No. He laughed and coloured. A shy chap is Calvert."</p> - -<p>Bocaros intervened. "Can you tell me what night this was?"</p> - -<p>"What do you want to know for?" asked Hart suspiciously.</p> - -<p>"It's merely curiosity," said Jasher smoothly; "you needn't trouble -about the matter, if you don't like."</p> - -<p>"I don't care two straws," said Hart, with a good-natured laugh, "but -I can't understand what you fellows are driving at. Catch me -forgetting the night I got my chance. It was the 24th of July."</p> - -<p>"Jasher and Bocaros looked significantly at one another, but the -interchange was lost on Hart, who was attending to his wine. The -conversation then drifted into subjects connected with Mr. Hart's -career, and he finally departed quite unaware that he had been made -use of.</p> - -<p>"What do you think now?" asked Bocaros triumphantly.</p> - -<p>"Well, Calvert was absent on that night, and he resembles the young -man who lured Mulligan away. Also he wears a dagger in the second act -of the play which he might have used."</p> - -<p>"He did use it," said the professor positively; "the wound was made by -a stiletto, according to the medical evidence. It is a stiletto he -wears. And he was absent between six and half-past nine, the very time -the doctor said the woman was killed. Besides," went on Bocaros -excitedly, "Calvert knows Fane very well. He might have thus obtained -possession of the key."</p> - -<p>"Fane swore it was never out of his possession.</p> - -<p>"He may have done that to shield Calvert, seeing the man is going to -marry Miss Mason."</p> - -<p>"True enough," said Jasher, rising. "Well, Calvert himself has given -me the funds to prosecute the search. It will be queer if I run him -down. I guess he'll be willing to let sleeping dogs lie if I do run -him to earth."</p> - -<p>"No," said the professor determinedly; "if Calvert is guilty he must -be punished."</p> - -<p>"You leave matters in my hands," retorted Jasher, his good-natured -face growing black. "I'm going to make money out of this."</p> - -<p>Bocaros changed the subject, for no apparent reason. "How did you get -money to prosecute your inquiries?"</p> - -<p>"Calvert told his solicitors to give me what I wanted. I saw Merry, -and obtained a cheque for fifty. That's enough to go on with."</p> - -<p>"What do you intend to do now?"</p> - -<p>"Go to his lodgings and see what his landlady knows."</p> - -<p>Bocaros thought. "There's another thing you might do," said he. "I -know that Emily Doon is the sister of Calvert's landlady. You might -question her. She will be with her sister to-morrow, and, as you know, -she is Mrs. Fane's maid."</p> - -<p>Jasher looked keenly at the professor. "That's the girl you are sweet -on," he said smiling.</p> - -<p>"What if I am?" returned Bocaros sharply; "she is a nice, good girl, -and handsome. She adores me," cried Bocaros, on whose head the -unaccustomed champagne had taken effect, "and I will marry her when I -am rich."</p> - -<p>"Will you ever be rich?"</p> - -<p>"If Calvert is the man who killed Flora Brand, yes," said Bocaros, and -with a grim smile he departed. Jasher looked after him and shrugged -his shoulders.</p> - -<p>"I must keep you in order," said he to himself, "or you will spoil the -whole thing."</p> - -<p>But however little the detective may have trusted Bocaros, he made -use of the information he had received. At three o'clock the next day -he went to ask if Calvert was at home. But he did not make the inquiry -until he saw Calvert drive away in a cab. Mrs. Varney appeared with -her ingratiating smile, and assured him that the young man was out. -"He has gone to Troy," said Mrs. Varney, "but of course we know what -that means. A handsome young lady, Mr. Jasher."</p> - -<p>"Hullo!" said the detective, starting; "and how do you come to know my -name, ma'am?"</p> - -<p>"Oh,"--Mrs. Varney tossed her head in a light-comedy way--"my sister -knows the professor, and the professor knows you. The fact is----"</p> - -<p>"Oh, that's all right. The professor (and a nice gentleman he is, -though but a foreigner) told me of his weakness."</p> - -<p>"Weakness, indeed!" This time Mrs. Varney frowned as a tragedy-queen. -"Professor Bocaros ought to be proud of having a handsome young lady -like my sister admiring him."</p> - -<p>"Well," said Jasher, who wished to get an interview with Miss Doon, -and guessed the right way to go about the matter, "he is a man who -will be able to give her a good position."</p> - -<p>"Do you know everything about him?" asked the landlady eagerly.</p> - -<p>"Everything. I am his man of business," lied Mr. Jasher.</p> - -<p>"Oh!" She looked longingly at the detective, not suspecting his real -profession. "Won't you come inside for a few minutes. My sister is -with me, and I am sure she would be pleased to meet Mr. Bocaros's man -of business. When she marries him she will naturally be brought much -into contact with you."</p> - -<p>"I fear I am too busy, ma'am," said the man, playing his fish.</p> - -<p>"Oh, but do come in," pleaded Mrs. Varney.</p> - -<p>"Well, then, for five minutes," said Jasher, and this was how he came -in a short time to be seated in a cosy parlour opposite to a tall, -bold-looking young woman, with a hard mouth and big eyes almost as -large and black as the professor's own. She resembled her sister in -looks, and was scarcely less theatrical. After expressing her pleasure -at seeing Jasher, and being determined--as he soon saw--not to let him -go until she knew everything about Bocaros, she invited him to a cup -of tea. Mrs. Varney went out to get the tea, and Jasher found himself -being pumped by Miss Doon.</p> - -<p>"I met the professor quite casually," she said, "having been insulted -by a man one evening in the Nightingales' Walk. I cried for help, and -the professor smote the ruffian to the earth. Then he asked me into -his rustic home, and was quite the gentleman. We have been quite the -best of friends for over a year," sighed Miss Doon sentimentally, "and -lately he has given me to understand that he desires a nearer and -dearer tie."</p> - -<p>"Why don't you marry him, then?"</p> - -<p>Miss Doon smiled and looked significantly at the detective. "I do not -care about living in so damp a house as 'The Refuge,'" she said. "I -will marry the professor when he can give me a better home. I suppose -he is not well off?"</p> - -<p>"At present he isn't," said the professor's man of business, "but some -day he may come in for a few thousands a year."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" Miss Doon gasped, "how delicious. I would certainly marry him -then and leave my present place. Not that I have anything to complain -of," she added graciously, "but I have always felt that it was my high -lot to be a lady of rank."</p> - -<p>"Quite so. And if the professor gets this money he can resume his -rank, which is that of a Greek baron."</p> - -<p>"Oh, good gracious!" Miss Doon gasped again; "then I would be the -Baroness Bocaros."</p> - -<p>"Certainly. But you had better stop in your place for a time till the -professor gets his money. I suppose you get on well with Mrs. Fane?"</p> - -<p>"We are like sisters," said the fair Emily; "she entrusts me with all -her secrets."</p> - -<p>"Has she secrets?" asked Jasher quickly.</p> - -<p>Miss Doon coloured, tossed her head, and bit her lip. She saw that she -had said too much. "I am true to my mistress, sir," said she loftily, -"and what she asked me to do, I did, without betraying her."</p> - -<p>Jasher was puzzled. He thought the girl was a fool to talk thus, and -wondered what Mrs. Fane could have asked her to do. However, it was -not a propitious moment to get the truth out of the maid as she was -now more or less on her guard, so he deftly changed the conversation. -"I suppose you find Ajax Villa unpleasant after the murder?" he -suggested.</p> - -<p>Miss Doon closed her eyes. "Don't speak of it. My nerves are -shattered. It's awful. And to think no one ever knew who killed the -poor soul."</p> - -<p>"I suppose you don't?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly not," replied Miss Doon violently, "I was at the seaside -with the other servants. I know nothing."</p> - -<p>"Are the other servants pleasant?" asked Jasher, baffled again.</p> - -<p>Emily shrugged her ample shoulders. "Oh yes," she said; "Gander, the -cook, is the most amusing." Here she began to laugh. "We had such a -joke the other day," she added. "I intended to tell the professor."</p> - -<p>"What was that?" asked the detective carelessly. Miss Doon recounted -the episode of the dagger. "It was in the dustbin, and Gander thought -the jewels were real. She gave notice, only to find that the dagger -was a stage jewel that had been worn by Mrs. Fane at a fancy ball."</p> - -<p>"You knew that, I suppose?" said Jasher, much interested.</p> - -<p>"No. She has not been to a fancy ball since I was with her, and that -is three years. But she said the dagger was hers, and Gander was in a -great state."</p> - -<p>Jasher asked for a description of the dagger, which she gave. Then -Mrs. Varney returned with the tea, and the conversation became more -general. But the detective left with a firm conviction that Calvert -had left the dagger in the dust-hole after killing the woman.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XIV</h4> - -<h5><a name="div1_14" href="#div1Ref_14">THE NEW TENANT</a></h5> -<br> - -<p>Arnold one day received a note from Luther Tracey asking him to call -at Fairy Lodge, Coleridge Lane, Hampstead. Wondering what the American -was doing in that house, Calvert lost no time in obeying the summons. -He knew Tracey very slightly, having only met him when paying a visit -to the Baldwins, when Laura was stopping there. But he was aware that -Tracey was a smart man, and long-headed. It struck Calvert as possible -that Laura might have consulted with the American about the matter of -the murder, and that this invitation might be the outcome of a -consultation between them. And it was creditable to Calvert's sagacity -that this is precisely what had happened.</p> - -<p>On arriving at Fairy Lodge, Arnold saw the engineer in the garden with -his inevitable cigarette in his mouth.</p> - -<p>"Well, I guess you're a smart chap," said Tracey, shaking hands -heartily. "You don't let the grass grow under your feet like the -majority of these English. No!"</p> - -<p>"I think curiosity brings me up so quickly," said Arnold as they -strolled up to the door. "I was wondering what you were doing in this -galley."</p> - -<p>"All in good time, sir," replied the imperturbable Luther. "Just slide -your eye round the ranch before you go in. Not a bad shanty? No; I -surmise that poor woman was death on flowers, and hadn't the dollars -to start an orchid-house."</p> - -<p>"She was poor," said Arnold, a trifle sadly. "Her husband did not -allow her much money, she told me; but perhaps he didn't make much."</p> - -<p>"Well, a drummer in our land generally can rake in the dollars. Did -you ever see this Brand?"</p> - -<p>"No," replied Calvert emphatically, "I never did."</p> - -<p>Luther looked sideways out of the corner of his eye, and saw that the -colour was rising in the young man's face. "Know something about him, -maybe. Yes?"</p> - -<p>"I know very little," answered Arnold coldly. "Only what Mrs. Brand -told me, and she was rather reserved on the subject. Brand, as I -learned from her, was a commercial traveller."</p> - -<p>"What line did he travel in?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know; I never asked. But his business took him away a great -deal, and my cousin was left a lot to herself."</p> - -<p>"Any children?"</p> - -<p>"None. They had been married five or six years, I believe. The fact -is," he added, "Mrs. Brand did not speak very kindly of her husband. -She seemed to think he was keeping something from her."</p> - -<p>Luther pitched away his cigarette and lighted another. "Well, now, I -guess that's my idea right along. There's a mystery about Brand, and -not a very straight one, seeing he couldn't tell the woman he swore to -love, honour, and obey. There ain't nothing about leaving for long -periods in the marriage service, I reckon. And it's strange he's not -turned up, seeing she's murdered."</p> - -<p>"Well," said Arnold slowly, and following the American into the room, -"I believe Brand went to Australia to see if he was related to the man -who left Flora this fortune."</p> - -<p>"Yes. It's queer his name should be Brand also. A woman generally -marries out of her name. It's a fact. Well, if he's in Australia I -expect he won't turn up for some time. When he does----"</p> - -<p>"What will happen?" asked Calvert, with a troubled look.</p> - -<p>"The truth will come to light."</p> - -<p>"Do you mean to say that the man killed her?"</p> - -<p>"I guess I don't mean to say anything," returned Tracey coolly, and -stretching his long limbs on a couch. "But now we're tiled in--you -ain't a mason, I suppose? No. But we're private here, so fire along."</p> - -<p>"What about?"</p> - -<p>"I want to know----"</p> - -<p>"So do I," broke in Arnold. "I want to know what you are doing here?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, there's nothing low about me, sir. I had a yarn with that young -lady who is as sweet as a daisy, and she told me enough to make me -take root in this place. Such a time I had with the old hermit who -owns the shanty. I had to give references and pay rent in advance, and -do all kinds of things to fix up matters. But yesterday I moved in, -and wrote you straight away. And here I stay till I learn the truth. -And a mighty long time that'll be, anyhow."</p> - -<p>Arnold, who was sitting in the chair with his face turned to the -light, stared. "I don't quite understand!"</p> - -<p>"No! Ah, that's the fault of you English. You want a heap of -explanations, like that Old Methuselah who let me the ranch. It's this -way. I'm engaged to Gerty B., and she's a friend of Miss Mason. Now -I've cottoned to Miss Mason, and I've sized you up as a decent sort of -old horse, so I'm going to see if I can pull you out of this mess. -Yes, sir. Luther Tracey don't go back on a friend. I guess I stop here -till the husband comes home from Australia and drops in here to see -his loving wife. And he don't leave that front door until I get the -truth out of him. I'm a clean shot, too," added Mr. Tracey, musingly. -"There ain't no flies on me. No!"</p> - -<p>Arnold was puzzled. "What do you know about me, that you talk so?"</p> - -<p>"All that Miss Mason could tell me. She landed round to see Gerty B. -in a devil of a state. That stuck-up sister had been lathering into -her, I guess. She wouldn't tell Gerty B., and just howled. So I came -along and sent Gerty B. to look after old momma Baldwin--to keep her -on the tiles. Yes, sir. Then I sat down and extracted the truth out of -Miss Mason."</p> - -<p>"What?" the blood rushed violently to Mr. Calvert's face. "Did Laura -tell you----"</p> - -<p>"Everything. You bet she did, and I wiped her pretty eyes with my silk -handkerchief. There ain't no call to fire up. I'm engaged to Gerty B., -and I don't loot another man's shanty. No, sir. I'm square and -straight. Miss Mason told me everything about your going to the villa, -and the dagger and all that poppy-cock. I told her to go slow and lie -down, and then lighted out for this rookery. Now I've got you here I -want you to tell me everything I don't know."</p> - -<p>Arnold, reserved like all Englishmen, was annoyed that this -inquisitive Yankee should interfere in his affairs. But the face of -the man was so genial, and displayed such interest, that he could not -help laughing. "It's very kind of you, Tracey," he admitted, "and -there is no one whose help I would like better. But I have already -engaged a detective to look after the matter."</p> - -<p>"Right enough," responded Luther, lighting another cigarette. "But I -work for the love of Gerty B., who's death on seeing you and Miss -Mason hitched in double harness. I'll do better than your 'tec, I -guess. Now come along and put your soul into the matter."</p> - -<p>"But I've got nothing more to say, man. Miss Mason has apparently told -you everything."</p> - -<p>"In the way women do tell--generally and without the detail I want, -sir. But Miss Mason was crying so, and I was consoling her so, that I -didn't catch on to everything, Calvert." Here Tracey's voice became -more earnest. "Just you trust me to the hilt. I'm your friend, right -away through, and God knows you need one."</p> - -<p>"Do you think I am in danger?"</p> - -<p>"On the face of it, I do."</p> - -<p>"But I can produce an <i>alibi</i>."</p> - -<p>"Good again. What's that, anyhow?"</p> - -<p>"Just this. I was asleep in my lodgings up till nine o'clock on that -night, and only went down to the theatre half an hour later. I believe -that the woman was killed between eight and nine."</p> - -<p>"That's all right enough," assented the American, looking at the ash -of his cigarette. "But you were in the house later, and you've come in -for the money, and the dagger was yours. There may be a way of the -prosecution getting out of the woman having been killed so early, and -then you get left."</p> - -<p>"Tracey, I swear when I saw the body it was almost cold."</p> - -<p>"Then why didn't you call in the police?"</p> - -<p>"Because I lost my head," said Arnold, much distressed.</p> - -<p>Luther shook his head. "The very time when you should have kept it. If -you had called in the police and explained how you came to be at the -villa, all would have been well."</p> - -<p>"But the money being left to me," expostulated Calvert.</p> - -<p>"You didn't know that at the time?"</p> - -<p>"No. I only knew when Merry wrote me."</p> - -<p>"Then there's no motive, though the prosecution might try to prove you -knew from Mrs. Brand beforehand."</p> - -<p>"Tracey, why do you talk about prosecution? There's no chance of----"</p> - -<p>"Of arrest," finished the American, neatly. "There just is, and don't -you make any mistake about it. That professor chap won't give up the -money without a try to get some."</p> - -<p>"You mistrust him?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I reckon so. When he kept to his studies he was a harmless sort -of cuss, but now he's taken a hand in this game with the chance of a -fortune if he wins, why, he'll stick at nothing to land his stake. You -go ahead, Calvert, and tell me what you told Miss Mason. Then I'll -smooth it out and tot up."</p> - -<p>Seeing that the American really wished to be a friend, and having -considerable belief in his cleverness, Arnold related all that had -taken place from the time he received the forged letter. When he -ended, Tracey expressed a desire to see the letters. But Arnold, -unprepared for this conversation, had not brought them with him.</p> - -<p>"Can you remember the dates?" asked Tracey. "Both were written on the -twenty-third."</p> - -<p>"Hum! And posted on the twenty-fourth. Close running, that."</p> - -<p>"Only one was posted. That supposed to be an answer from me to Laura."</p> - -<p>"And the other was brought by a messenger?" asked Tracey.</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"Did you reply to the forged letter?"</p> - -<p>"No. Remember I only received it late in the afternoon. Believing it -really came from Laura, I thought I would see her quicker than a -letter could be delivered."</p> - -<p>"Did Miss Mason look at the post-mark?"</p> - -<p>"No. She burnt the envelope too."</p> - -<p>"That's a pity. We might have found in what district the letter was -posted. However, we may learn from the district telegraph office, who -gave in the letter to be delivered on the twenty-fourth."</p> - -<p>"We don't know the office."</p> - -<p>"I'll find it," said Luther coolly, "if I hunt through every office of -that sort in London. By the way, when you were in the house did you -hear any one about?"</p> - -<p>"No. Not a soul. And yet----" he hesitated.</p> - -<p>"Who was singing while you talked to Mulligan?"</p> - -<p>Arnold jumped up and shuddered. "Tracey, I declare that was the most -horrible thing about the business. I don't know."</p> - -<p>"Yet you were in the room."</p> - -<p>"I was, and I saw the dead body, which I recognised as that of my -cousin. I saw the policeman pass and repass out of the window. Then, -thinking he was gone, I went out."</p> - -<p>"Wait a bit. You told Miss Mason, that you saw him leaning over the -gate? Don't make any mistake. This is important."</p> - -<p>Arnold coloured. "I am telling you the exact truth. I was so confused -over the whole business that I mix up things. I left the room before -the singing commenced. I waited in the hall for ten minutes, hoping -the policeman would not come back. Then I opened the door----"</p> - -<p>"Hold on a shake. Why didn't you go up and see who was singing?"</p> - -<p>"Tracey, I couldn't. My nerve was already shaken when I left the room -with the dead in it. I recognised my peril, seeing I knew who she -was--the dead woman, I mean. In the darkness of the hall I was waiting -when I heard a woman's voice singing 'Kathleen Mavourneen.' I was so -shaken that I scarcely knew what to do. All my desire was to get away -from that horrible house. I opened the door, and saw the policeman at -the gate. I hesitated and then faced him--the rest you know."</p> - -<p>Tracey looked at his pointed boots and considered. "What a fool you -were not to steal upstairs and see who was singing. You might have -found the murderess."</p> - -<p>"Murderess!"</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Tracey, getting off the couch, "from the fact of the -singing I guess it was a woman who killed Mrs. Brand."</p> - -<p>"No," said Arnold decidedly; "if a woman had done so, she certainly -would not have risked my return."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I guess she knew you were scared to death. And perhaps she -believed you had cleared out."</p> - -<p>"She would have heard the door close."</p> - -<p>"Not she. You closed it quietly, I reckon."</p> - -<p>"So quietly that Mulligan did not hear."</p> - -<p>"There you see." Luther took a turn up and down the room. "See here, -I'm going to camp out here and search."</p> - -<p>"For what?" asked Calvert, puzzled.</p> - -<p>"For letters, pictures, diaries, and all that sort of thing."</p> - -<p>"You won't find any. Derrick discovered that everything had been -removed, by the murderer no doubt, so that the reason for the crime -would not be discovered."</p> - -<p>"That's so. And you hang on to the fact that it was a woman who -engineered this job. A man wouldn't be so 'cute. She came right along -when all was quiet and looted the house. But I guess Derrick's a fool. -There may be all kinds of papers hanging round. And he didn't examine -the dustbin. Now, I did, and I found a torn photo----"</p> - -<p>"Of Brand?" asked Calvert breathlessly.</p> - -<p>"No; of Mrs. Brand."</p> - -<p>Calvert looked disappointed.</p> - -<p>"Derrick has one already."</p> - -<p>"I guess so, and he don't know what use to make of it. I find on the -photograph, very naturally, the name of the photographer."</p> - -<p>"Well, what of that?"</p> - -<p>"You make me tired," said Tracey impatiently. "I'm going to see if that -man's got a photograph of the husband. Married people sometimes get -taken together. If Mrs. Brand had a photo taken at this man's place, -she would probably, when she wanted another, or to be photographed -with her husband, go there. Don't you catch on? Besides, the husband -may have gone with her without being taken. Oh, I'll get his picture."</p> - -<p>"But what good will that do?"</p> - -<p>"Well, it might put a clue into our hands. He may have loved the woman -who stabbed his wife."</p> - -<p>"It's all theory," said Arnold impatiently.</p> - -<p>"And I guess it will be, till we get down to the bed-rock of the -business," said the American dryly. "However--hullo Snakes, what's -that row?"</p> - -<p>"It's a ring at the bell," said Arnold, peering out of the window. He -then drew back with a look of surprise. "It's Jasher."</p> - -<p>"Great Scot! What's he come here for? All the better: we'll interview -him. I'd like to see the sort of man you have running the biz. We -might syndicate. Yes--oh I guess so."</p> - -<p>In a few minutes Jasher, round and rosy and fat and short of breath, -was in the room, expressing his surprise at the sight of his employer.</p> - -<p>"I just came up to have a look at the house," said he; "and never -expected to see you here, or Mr. Tracey either."</p> - -<p>"What's that?" queried Tracey, "you know my name?"</p> - -<p>"Jasher sat down and wiped his bald forehead.</p> - -<p>"I had the pleasure of seeing you out of the window of Professor -Bocaros's house. You were walking with a young lady. He told me your -name and----"</p> - -<p>"That's all right. Well, sir, I'm hanging out here, looking after this -case. Yes, you bet I've taken a hand."</p> - -<p>"Jasher looked annoyed, and turned to Calvert.</p> - -<p>"You gave the case into my hands, sir," he said in an aggrieved tone.</p> - -<p>"That's as right as a pie," said Tracey coolly, and before Arnold -could speak; "but I guess you're paid, and I'm an amateur. There's no -law against my joining in this old country, is there?"</p> - -<p>"No," said Jasher stiffly; "but I prefer to work alone."</p> - -<p>"Right you are. I'll swing on my own peg. Well"--Tracey lighted his -sixth cigarette--"what's doing?"</p> - -<p>Jasher, with marked annoyance, turned his broad back on the man who -was meddling--as he considered it--with his business, and addressed -himself to Arnold.</p> - -<p>"Do you wish me to report, sir?"</p> - -<p>"If you please," said Calvert, amused by the detective's anger.</p> - -<p>"I would rather do it alone."</p> - -<p>Tracey lifted his shoulders.</p> - -<p>"I'll take a hand at patience in another room," said he, sauntering to -the door. "Call me when the pow-pow's over, Calvert," and he went out -singing, with Jasher looking after him distrustfully.</p> - -<p>"Well, Jasher, what is it?" asked Calvert, sitting down again.</p> - -<p>The detective took a seat, and looked sadly at his employer. The two -could hear Tracey singing in the back garden, so they talked in their -ordinary tones. Shortly the singing stopped, but then Jasher was too -much engrossed to think Tracey might be listening. However, he set the -door of the room ajar so that the American's ear should not be at the -keyhole. Having taken this precaution, he sat down, and as above -stated looked sadly at his employer.</p> - -<p>"Why don't you trust me, sir?" he asked reproachfully.</p> - -<p>"In what way?" asked Calvert, turning cold.</p> - -<p>"Well, sir, you mayn't know it, but Professor Bocaros grudges you this -fortune, and wants to get up a case against you."</p> - -<p>"I fancy he'll find that difficult. Has he been troubling you?"</p> - -<p>"He wanted me to play low down," said Jasher gloomily; "but as you are -my employer, and have the money--I must be frank," he broke off in a -burst of confidence--"you have the cash and Bocaros hasn't, so I stick -to you."</p> - -<p>"Thanks!" said Arnold dryly. "Well?"</p> - -<p>"I am still friends with Bocaros," went on Jasher calmly, "as I don't -want him to suspect, and I must keep an eye on him. However, he's -found out several things." Here Jasher stopped and looked at Arnold -firmly. "You, sir, were the man with the pointed beard who spoke to -Mulligan, and had the latch-key."</p> - -<p>"How can you prove that?" asked Calvert quietly.</p> - -<p>"Well, sir, I went to the theatre and saw that your make-up was the -same as that described by Mulligan; also the clothes. Then Bocaros and -I found out from your understudy that you were away from the theatre -till after nine, and the woman was killed about that time. Finally, -Mrs. Fane's maid told me that a stage dagger of the sort you wear in -the second act of the play was found in the dustbin of Ajax Villa. You -inherit the fortune, sir, and that taken in conjunction with these -circumstances makes Bocaros think you killed the poor woman yourself. -I'm afraid I wasn't so careful with the professor as I should have -been," said Jasher apologetically; "but, now I know he is your enemy, -I will keep my eye on him."</p> - -<p>"The professor knows all this?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. He learned something of it from Mrs. Fane's maid, and he was at -supper with me, when we spoke to your understudy, Hart. Bocaros wanted -to go to Derrick with the information; but I persuaded him not to do -so for the present. But there's no denying that you are in a difficult -position, and the professor is dangerous."</p> - -<p>"Calvert pitched his cigarette on the floor and glanced out of the -window. He was not so surprised as Jasher expected him to be, as he -had always mistrusted Bocaros. But he recognised his danger, and spoke -frankly.</p> - -<p>"What do you think, Jasher?"</p> - -<p>"I don't think you did it, sir, if that's what you ask me."</p> - -<p>"Why not. I was the young man who spoke to Mulligan. I went to Troy in -my make-up. I was in the house, and I recognised the body. And the -dagger found in the dustbin is mine. Now, what do you say?"</p> - -<p>"I say that I'm more certain than ever you ain't guilty," said Jasher -doggedly; "you wouldn't put your neck into the noose if you were the -man wanted. And you wouldn't have engaged me to hunt you down to get -hanged."</p> - -<p>"You are very clever, Jasher," said Calvert, with a nervous laugh. "I -am innocent, as you say. This woman was killed before nine."</p> - -<p>"So the doctor said at the inquest, sir."</p> - -<p>"Then, if you will ask my landlady you will find that I was asleep in -my room at that time. A messenger came from the theatre asking me to -finish the piece as----"</p> - -<p>"As Hart was ill. I know that. But did you go later?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. I went to keep an appointment with Miss Mason. It was made for -half-past nine, and when I got to the villa she wasn't there. I -entered the house, and after seeing the dead body I came out, dreading -lest I should be accused of killing my cousin. The dagger I left in -this house by mistake, so I have no doubt she took it with her to Ajax -Villa for some purpose, and was killed with it. Who killed her I am -not in a position to say. So you see, Jasher, I can prove an <i>alibi</i>."</p> - -<p>Jasher nodded and seemed relieved.</p> - -<p>"I'm glad you have so clear a defence, sir," said he heartily. "I -should not like to have been the means of hunting you down. But what -was Mrs. Brand doing at the villa?"</p> - -<p>"Ah! that I can't tell you."</p> - -<p>"Jasher asked a great many questions, mostly of the sort which Luther -had asked, and seemed quite puzzled. Calvert told Jasher that the -American suspected a woman of having killed Mrs. Brand. This, however, -Jasher shook his head at.</p> - -<p>"A woman wouldn't have the nerve," he said. "However, I'll think over -that. There's Mrs. Fane, of course."</p> - -<p>"What about her?" asked Arnold angrily.</p> - -<p>"Well, sir, she (as I learn from the professor, who heard it from Miss -Baldwin) hates you, and doesn't want you to marry her sister. The song -sung was hers. So she might have----"</p> - -<p>"Rubbish!" said Arnold, jumping up. "I am surprised at you, man. Mrs. -Fane was at Westcliff-on-Sea."</p> - -<p>"Yes; and I guess she ran away with my car," cried Tracey.</p> - -<p>"What!" said Jasher, pink to the ears. "Have you been listening?"</p> - -<p>"You bet," said Luther coolly; "had my ear to the wall the whole time. -This house is a shell. Now the conversation's come round to my way of -thinking, I've come to sail in. You're a smart man," said Luther, -wringing the detective's hand. "I agree with you. A woman did the -trick, and Mrs. Fane's the woman."</p> - -<p>Jasher felt complimented. "Well, sir, now you are in and know all, I -don't mind your remaining. Mrs. Fane----"</p> - -<p>"I won't hear it," cried Arnold; "it is ridiculous!"</p> - -<p>"Don't see it," argued Tracey. "She's one of these tall women who -could easily overpower a little woman like Mrs. Brand."</p> - -<p>"But what reason had she to kill Mrs. Brand?"</p> - -<p>"She wanted to lay the blame on you and stop your marriage."</p> - -<p>"Stuff and nonsense! Why should she kill Mrs. Brand for that? She did -not know the woman was my cousin, or that money was coming to me; I -didn't know myself till the lawyers wrote after the death."</p> - -<p>"It's a rum case altogether," said Jasher, nursing his chin on his fat -hand. "I can't see my way."</p> - -<p>"I can," said Luther briskly; "you go right along and make inquiries -about Mrs. Fane, and I'll go on my own. Then come here and we'll size -the business up when we pool the notes."</p> - -<p>"But Mrs. Fane was at Westcliff-on-Sea," said Arnold distracted.</p> - -<p>"And she took my motor-car to get back."</p> - -<p>"To Charing Cross?" asked Jasher disbelievingly.</p> - -<p>"You bet. That was a blind. There's a late train to Westcliff-on-Sea -on Saturday night. Mrs. Fane could leave this house when you, Calvert, -left it about eleven. She could rip along in my flier to Charing Cross -in twenty minutes, and then leaving the car there, she could take the -underground to Bishopsgate to catch the late train. That's what she -did. Oh, I've worked it out."</p> - -<p>"Jasher seemed struck with this speech. I'll make inquiries at -Liverpool Street station," he said. "But, sir," he added, turning to -Calvert, "seeing that there is a danger of your being arrested, will -you go on with this case?"</p> - -<p>"Why not? I am innocent!"</p> - -<p>Jasher shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, it's none of my business," said -he. "I know you are innocent, as you can prove the <i>alibi</i>, or it would -be my duty to arrest you. But unless you can close the mouth of -Bocaros, he will tell Derrick, and then----"</p> - -<p>"Then I'll face the business out," said Arnold proudly. "I have been a -fool; but I am not a knave or a murderer. What do you say, Tracey?"</p> - -<p>"I'm with you," said the American; "go through with the biz."</p> - -<p>"Jasher shrugged his shoulders. It would be better to bribe the -professor to silence," he said. "However, I have my orders, and I'll -go on."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XV</h4> - -<h5><a name="div1_15" href="#div1Ref_15">THE PROFESSOR'S COURTING</a></h5> -<br> - -<p>Disappointed of the fortune, Bocaros had to keep on teaching at the -suburban school. He disliked the drudgery of the task, and hated the -boys who did not always treat him respectfully. The poor man had a -miserable time, and the loneliness of his life at the Refuge did not -tend to cheer him. What with his disappointment, the dampness of his -house, his straitened circumstances, let alone the fact that he was in -love, Professor Bocaros found life very hard.</p> - -<p>He really adored Emily Doon. As she had told Jasher, Bocaros had -rescued her from the insults of a ruffian, and since then she had been -kind to the lawman. At first it did not enter her head to marry him, -as she knew how desperately poor he was. But Bocaros was a gentleman, -and Emily warmly desired to marry above her rank. She was a handsome, -ambitious girl with some education, and from reading novels such as -Mrs. Baldwin loved, she became imbued with the idea that she was -destined for a romantic life. Her visions included a title, a large -income, beautiful dresses, and the envy of every one she knew. She -painted a picture of her calling as a countess on Mrs. Fane and of -crushing that stately lady with patronage. Emily did not like Mrs. -Fane very much, as she found her a somewhat severe mistress. Therefore -she was anxious to marry as soon as possible. But those who sought her -hand were in trade, and Bocaros was the only gentleman who seemed to -admire her in a genteel and respectful way.</p> - -<p>The conversation with Jasher put a different complexion on the affair. -According to the professor's man of business, who certainly must know -what he was talking about, Bocaros was a baron, and was likely to come -in for money. It was true that no details had been given, but the mere -hint was sufficient for Emily. She at once decided to encourage the -professor instead of snubbing him, and to this end, having dressed -herself in her best things, she went to pay a visit shortly after five -o'clock, an hour when she knew Bocaros would be within.</p> - -<p>The professor was seated over a small fire, staring darkly into its -red heart, with folded arms. Outside, the twilight was darkening to -night and the wind was rising. But Bocaros did not pay any attention -to the doings of nature. He was wrapped up in the contemplation of his -own troubles. Already he had finished his frugal meal and had put away -the dishes as was his custom. Usually, having lighted his big pipe, he -would read, but on this evening the book lay unopened and the pipe was -laid aside. He began to feel keenly his poverty now that he was in -love. There seemed to be no chance of his marrying Emily, and so far -as he could see, unless he could bend his pride to accept money from -Calvert he would have to pass the rest of his days in that damp house -until too old to earn his bread. Then the wolf would rush in at the -door and drive him to the workhouse. No wonder the poor man was -angered by the good fortune of Arnold.</p> - -<p>When a sharp knock came to the door, Bocaros, wrapped in his gloomy -thoughts, took no notice. Again came the knock in a still more -peremptory manner. This time he heard, and wondering who was calling -on such a recluse as himself, he went to the door. Here he expected to -find Tracey or Mrs. Baldwin, who were the only people who ever came to -the dull little house in the fields. But when he saw Emily fashionably -arrayed, smirking at the door and flashing her great eyes on him, the -poor man was so amazed that he fell back a step and gasped.</p> - -<p>"I hope I'm not unwelcome," said Miss Doon, with dignity.</p> - -<p>"Ah, my dear young lady, enter my humble home," gasped the professor, -wondering if this was all "a beautiful dream. How can you think but -what I am honoured far beyond my worth."</p> - -<p>"The foreign style of compliment," simpered Emily entering, "is what I -would expect from one of the nobility."</p> - -<p>"Bocaros did not hear. He conducted her to the study and made her sit -in the big armchair. Then he heaped on coals and wood in reckless -profusion, and volunteered to make his fair visitor a cup of tea.</p> - -<p>"The English love tea," said the professor, hastening to the kitchen. -"In a moment you shall have some, mademoiselle."</p> - -<p>"How sweet," sighed Emily, who liked the foreign title. But when alone -she cast her eyes round the room, and mentally decided that Bocaros -was even harder up than she expected to find him. Emily was a shrewd -girl where her vanity was not concerned, and had no notion of throwing -herself away. Unless she knew for certain that Bocaros was a baron and -that the money would really come to him, she decided that she would -never permit him to make her his wife. She was fond of fine dress, in -which her wages did not permit her to indulge. Already she was in -debt, and should the professor propose she knew not how she would be -able to get a trousseau together worthy of the occasion. "But I can -get Fanny to help," thought the astute Emily. Fanny was Mrs. Varney. -"She will do anything when she hears I have decided to marry a foreign -nobleman like Count Fosco in the <i>Woman in White!</i>" which comparison -was rather hard on the guileless Bocaros.</p> - -<p>Shortly he returned with a cup of tea. Emily accepted the attention -graciously. But the tea was inferior, the china was thick, so she made -a wry face and drank very little of the comforting beverage. The -professor did not notice her distaste. He closed the window, drew the -threadbare curtains and lighted the lamp. Having made the room as -comfortable as was possible he sat down and poked the fire into a -brighter blaze, then smiled cheerfully at Miss Doon. She was secretly -amazed at the result produced by her visit in the man's looks. He -appeared to be years younger--there was a colour in his face, a softer -light in his aggressive eyes, and his demeanour was almost gay. She -thought that if he were better dressed and had more flesh on his poor -bones, he might be a handsome man after a sort. She might do worse -than marry him, always presuming that he really had a title, and was -possessed--in the near future--of money.</p> - -<p>"You have no idea what pleasure it gives me to see you seated at my -poor hearth," said Bocaros, smiling brightly.</p> - -<p>"It's very nice," replied Emily, also smiling. "But I suppose some day -you will be able to afford a better house?"</p> - -<p>"I might. One never knows, as you English say. And were I rich, do you -know what I should do?"</p> - -<p>"Marry, I suppose. When a gentleman has a house he always looks for a -lady to share it."</p> - -<p>"The difficulty is to get the lady."</p> - -<p>"Oh, really, sir, in your case there should be no difficulty."</p> - -<p>Bocaros brightened still more. "Do you really think so, mademoiselle? I -am old, I am poor, I have no position, and----"</p> - -<p>"But a baron has a position!"</p> - -<p>"Who told you I was a baron?" asked Bocaros suspiciously.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Jasher, your man of business. Isn't it true?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," said the Greek slowly, and with his eyes on the fire, "it is -strictly true. I am a baron in my country, as I come of a noble -family. But I dropped the title when I came to teach in England. Yes! -I told Jasher I was a baron. How did he come to tell you?"</p> - -<p>"There was no need for Bocaros to ask this question. Jasher had -reported the conversation to him, and had advised him to resume his -title if he wished to make an impression on Miss Doon's worldly heart. -As a matter of fact Bocaros was really entitled to the title he -claimed. He belonged to a decayed family and the title was all that -remained. As it was out of keeping in his position, and the man was -proud, he never gave any one to understand that he had this rank, and -was contented with the appellation of professor. Unused to the ways of -women, it had never struck him that the title would be of value in -Miss Doon's eyes when it was not gilded with money. But he saw from -her looks that she really thought a great deal of it, and mentally -thanked Jasher for having supplied him with this bird-lime to lure his -fowl.</p> - -<p>"How delightful!" said Miss Doon. "And your wife will be a baroness?"</p> - -<p>"Oh yes. But where am I to find a wife?"</p> - -<p>Emily's eyes told him, but with the ineradicable coquetry of a woman -her tongue contradicted her glances. "Good gracious me, baron"--she -rolled the sweet morsel on her tongue--"how should I know? Really I -wish you would not look at me like that. It's hardly proper for a -young lady to call on a foreign nobleman. I believe they are not to be -trusted. The noblemen, you know--so gay and dashing they are."</p> - -<p>Bocaros laughed a little sadly. "I fear I am anything but that," he -said. "Not at all the bridegroom for you."</p> - -<p>"Really, professor--I must call you by the dear old name--I hope you -are not making a proposal."</p> - -<p>"Does it offend you?" asked Bocaros timidly.</p> - -<p>"I'm sure I don't know. I have never been proposed to before, as I -have always been hard to suit."</p> - -<p>"Would I suit you?"</p> - -<p>"Miss Doon having extracted a direct question got to business at once, -but veiled her common-sense under a delightful confusion. I really -don't know, baron--I must call you by that name, it sounds so -high-class--really I don't know. Of course I was born for a coronet."</p> - -<p>"It would look well on that delicate head."</p> - -<p>"I'm sure it would," replied Miss Doon, with conviction. "But you see, -baron, I must have a gold coronet, and you"--she looked round the -room.</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Bocaros sadly. "I am poor--miserably poor. But," his eyes -blazed so suddenly that she drew back startled, "you may be able to -make me rich."</p> - -<p>"Baron, I do not grasp your meaning."</p> - -<p>Bocaros looked at her doubtfully. "Are you a strong-minded woman?" he -asked; "are you willing to do something for money?"</p> - -<p>Emily grew nervous. "What do you mean, professor?"</p> - -<p>"I mean that I can obtain an income of some thousands a year if you -will help me to get it."</p> - -<p>The bait was too tempting for Miss Doon to resist, so she nibbled.</p> - -<p>"So long as it is anything a lady can do," she observed modestly. "And -I am confident, baron, that you would not like the future bearer of -your noble coronet to do anything wrong."</p> - -<p>"You could never do wrong in my eyes."</p> - -<p>"Ah, but there are other eyes one has to consider," said Emily in a -shrewd manner. "You had better speak plainly."</p> - -<p>"I will, if you promise to hold your tongue. If what I am about to say -gets abroad, farewell to the money and to my resuming my title."</p> - -<p>"It's nothing wrong, I hope," faltered Emily, rather taken aback by -this earnestness. "Although I am not a prude I should never think of -doing anything to----"</p> - -<p>"No, no! All I ask you to do is to give me some information."</p> - -<p>"Information! Good gracious! what information can I give you?"</p> - -<p>"Bocaros rose and began to walk with his hands in his pockets. I -suppose you remember the White Room crime," he said slowly.</p> - -<p>Miss Doon shrieked. "Oh, don't talk of it, baron. It has ruined my -nerves. I can't----"</p> - -<p>The professor interrupted ruthlessly. "Has it ruined the nerves of -your mistress?" he asked sharply.</p> - -<p>Emily sat up and became more of a servant and an artful woman. "What's -that?"</p> - -<p>"Must I put the matter plainly?" sneered the professor?</p> - -<p>"Yes," she replied quietly, "if you wish me to understand."</p> - -<p>"Then I will. The woman who was murdered was my cousin. She left me -ten thousand a year--hush, don't interrupt. Arnold Calvert, however, -got round her in some way and she altered her will, leaving the money, -which was rightfully mine, to him. I hate him, and I want half the -money at least. I have reason to believe that he killed this -woman--hush, don't interrupt--and if I can bring the crime home to -him, I can make him hush it up by his giving me five thousand a year. -If you will help me to prove his guilt, I will marry you and make you -a baroness as soon as the income is safe."</p> - -<p>"Emily stared, and in her clever mind calculated the chances of -benefiting by this confidence. I don't see how I can help," she said, -to gain time.</p> - -<p>"I do. Did you read the case as reported in the papers?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. But it said nothing about Mr. Calvert."</p> - -<p>"He was the young man who spoke to the constable. Now, when he left -the house my cousin was lying dead in the White Room, and a woman, to -distract the attention of the police, was singing. The song that she -sung is a favourite of Mrs. Fane's."</p> - -<p>Emily now began to see whither these remarks tended. "Yes?"</p> - -<p>"Yes!" repeated the professor impatiently. "Is that all you have to -say? Do you not understand?"</p> - -<p>"No, I don't, really, I don't."</p> - -<p>"Bah!" he turned his back roughly on her. "You are of no use to me."</p> - -<p>"But I may be," said Miss Doon meaningly.</p> - -<p>"Yes. If you like. Do you know what I want?"</p> - -<p>"You want to make out that Mrs. Fane was singing in the room."</p> - -<p>Bocaros nodded. "I know Mrs. Fane was supposed to be at the seaside. -But you told Jasher that you did something for Mrs. Fane, and would -not betray her. What was it you did?"</p> - -<p>"I said I would not betray her," said Emily, not seeing how the affair -would turn out to her advantage.</p> - -<p>"Then you will never be my wife."</p> - -<p>"If you loved me----"</p> - -<p>"It is not a question of love," he interrupted imperiously. "How can I -marry you and bring you to this hovel?"</p> - -<p>"I should not come. Give me a good home and----"</p> - -<p>"Well," he interrupted again impatiently, "the chance of obtaining a -good home lies in your hands. I swear I will make you a baroness if -you will help me to get the money."</p> - -<p>Emily fenced. "Do you think Mr. Calvert is guilty?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"Yes, decidedly. I am as sure of that, as I am that Mrs. Fane was in -the room assisting him to escape."</p> - -<p>"But why should she do that?"</p> - -<p>"Because she loves him----"</p> - -<p>"Oh, good gracious!" Miss Doon started from her seat. "Really, that is -impossible."</p> - -<p>"I tell you she loves him," repeated Bocaros grimly, "and that is why -she is so averse to her sister marrying him. Calvert got to know that -the will was made in his favour, and lured Flora to the White Room. -There Calvert or Mrs. Fane killed her--don't shriek."</p> - -<p>"I must," said Miss Doon excitedly. "Do you think that Mrs. Fane--Oh, -I can't believe--And yet----"</p> - -<p>"Ah! Then she <i>was</i> up in town on that night?"</p> - -<p>"I never said so," retorted Emily promptly.</p> - -<p>"What is the use of fencing in this way?" cried Bocaros roughly. "I am -sure that my guess is correct. I was certain after what you let slip -to Jasher, and----"</p> - -<p>"She has been a good mistress to me," said Emily, crying.</p> - -<p>"Because she chose to. But she is a hard and cruel woman!"</p> - -<p>"She's all that. She would kill me, did she know that I told."</p> - -<p>"Bah! Once in the hands of the law she can do nothing. Come, Emily, my -dear wife that is to be, tell me. She was in town."</p> - -<p>"Yes," confessed Emily. Then, having taken the leap, she hurried on: -"I will tell you all now, but mind you keep your promise. If you -don't, I will deny everything; and you can't do without me."</p> - -<p>The professor kissed her hand gravely. "I have no wish to do without -you, my dear," he said. "Go on; tell me all."</p> - -<p>"When we were at the seaside," said Miss Doon, sitting down again, "I -noticed that the mistress was worried. She got worse and worse, and -always quarrelled with her husband."</p> - -<p>"Was he with her all the time?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. On the twenty-fourth----"</p> - -<p>"The time of the murder," said Bocaros, under his breath.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Fane received a letter which made him turn pale. I took the -letters up to him in the morning-room, as the man asked me to. When he -opened the letter he turned pale, and put it into his pocket. Mrs. -Fane was in the room. She looked sharply at him, but said nothing. But -when I left they had a quarrel. At all events, Mrs. Fane looked -furious all the day. Mr. Fane said he was ill with a cold----"</p> - -<p>"Was he really ill?" asked the professor suspiciously.</p> - -<p>"Well, he had a cold, but not a bad enough one to make him go to bed -as he did. He took to his room, and Mrs. Fane attended to him herself. -All day she was with him. Just before six she came out of his room, -and told his man that he was asleep and was not to be disturbed. She -then called me into her room, and told me that she had to go away on -business. She did not want it to be known that she was out of the -house, and asked me to put on one of her dresses and sit all the -evening in the drawing-room till she came back."</p> - -<p>"Did she explain why she went to town?"</p> - -<p>"No. Nor did I ask. I never thought that anything was wrong. I fancied -she might have gone up to see Mr. Frederick Mason, as she was always -calling on him. She had quarrelled with her husband, so I thought the -letter he received was about some business that was wrong----"</p> - -<p>"What business?"</p> - -<p>"The business of Mason & Son. Mr. Fane is a partner with Mr. Mason, -but Mrs. Fane attends to matters. As I say, she often went to see her -brother, and I thought she did so on this night unbeknown to Mr. Fane. -For that reason, as I supposed, she wanted me to pretend to be her, so -that neither he nor the servants would think she had been out of the -house. I said Mr. Fane might want me, but she said he would not, as -she had given him a sleeping-draught, and he would not awaken till the -morning. Well, she paid me so well that I agreed. I put on her dress -and sat in the drawing-room. She told the servants to go to bed when -they liked, as she would require nothing more. So all the evening I -was not disturbed, and the servants, thinking I had gone out--I made -up a story for them," said Emily artfully--"never came near me. My -mistress caught the six train up."</p> - -<p>"At what time did she come back?"</p> - -<p>"After midnight. She caught the last train down."</p> - -<p>"Did she seem disturbed?"</p> - -<p>"Not at all. She simply came in and said that she had done her -business. Then she paid me the money and sent me to bed, after hearing -that all was well, and that the other servants suspected nothing. Then -she remained in the drawing-room looking over some papers."</p> - -<p>"You suspected nothing wrong?"</p> - -<p>"I did not," replied Miss Doon, with assurance. "Not until you spoke -of her singing the song did I think anything wrong."</p> - -<p>"Yet you read the report at the inquest."</p> - -<p>"I did. But it never struck me that----"</p> - -<p>"I see," interrupted Bocaros, rubbing his hands. "Well, you can be -quite sure, Emily, that Mrs. Fane came to Ajax Villa on that night. -Can she drive a motor-car?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. She had one down at Westcliff-on-Sea."</p> - -<p>"Then it's her, without a doubt. She stole Tracey's motor-car, and -leaving it in Charing Cross station-yard, went along by the -underground to Liverpool Street, where she caught the last train. -Jasher told me that Tracey's own idea is, that a woman did this, and -that a woman killed Mrs. Brand. Ah! with your evidence we'll have -her."</p> - -<p>"What will you do?"</p> - -<p>"Do?" said the professor. "I'll get five thousand a year from Calvert, -or have both him and Mrs. Fane arrested. Your evidence will hang her -and give him a life-sentence."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XVI</h4> - -<h5><a name="div1_16" href="#div1Ref_16">A SURPRISE</a></h5> -<br> - -<p>Tracey, in the interests of the lovers, continued to live in the -cottage at Hampstead. Webb had let him the house furnished, and Luther -made himself comfortable in a bachelor fashion. He cooked his own -meals, and made his own bed, and kept the house as neat as a new pin. -One day Gerty came to see him, accompanied by her mother. How she -induced that lymphatic woman to come was a mystery. Tracey was not -easily astonished, but he was fairly taken aback when he saw stout -Mrs. Baldwin being towed up the path by Gerty. It was like a -breathless steam-tug conducting a three-decker out of port.</p> - -<p>"What I've suffered," said Mrs. Baldwin, sinking into a basket-chair -which almost collapsed under her weight, "no one can understand."</p> - -<p>"Oh come, mother," said Gerty cheerfully, "you had a cab to the top of -the hill, and my arm to the door."</p> - -<p>"You are nothing to lean upon," sighed Mrs. Baldwin. "If it was Rufus, -now. He had an arm like a blacksmith, and the soul of a poet."</p> - -<p>Tracey giggled. He was amused by Mrs. Baldwin's whimsical ways. "Will -you tell me what brought you here?" he asked, with his arm round -Gerty.</p> - -<p>"You may well ask that," said Mrs. Baldwin, fanning herself with her -handkerchief; "and if you have such a thing as wine----"</p> - -<p>"Only whisky--old Bourbon," snapped Luther, and supplied Mrs. Baldwin -with a brimming glass in spite of her asseveration that she never took -such strong drink. If not, she appreciated it, and finished the glass -while talking.</p> - -<p>"Gerty must tell you what I want," she said, nursing the glass.</p> - -<p>Luther turned to his fiancée with an inquiring look. Something very -strange must have occurred to bring Mrs. Baldwin so far.</p> - -<p>"Mother is upset," said Gerty: "she fancies she saw her husband."</p> - -<p>"My second," explained Mrs. Baldwin. "Not Gerty's father, who was a -gentleman, but Rufus."</p> - -<p>"The man with the blacksmith's arm and poet's soul," said Luther. "I -thought he was dead and buried long ago."</p> - -<p>"No," said the old lady. "I have never seen any announcement of his -death. He is alive, and I saw him. Two nights ago I was reclining in -the parlour, trying to soothe my nerves with a novel. Rufus appeared -at the window, which was open, the night being warm. I shrieked aloud -at the sight of his face. He ran away," finished Mrs. Baldwin, -sighing.</p> - -<p>"Didn't you light out after him?"</p> - -<p>"I went out to rebuke him for his desertion of the twins. But he was -gone like a dream. I have come to you to ask if you will advertise for -Rufus. Assure him that all will be forgotten."</p> - -<p>"Is there anything to forget?" asked Gerty.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Baldwin suddenly sat up with energy, and her eyes glittered. No -one would have thought that she possessed such spirit. "Yes," she -said, in a hard voice, "there is much to forget. Rufus treated me like -a brute. He always was a brute."</p> - -<p>"Then why do you wish to forgive him?"</p> - -<p>"Because I do," said Mrs. Baldwin doggedly.</p> - -<p>"Were I you," said Luther, after a pause, "I would leave the cuss -alone. Think of your children."</p> - -<p>"I want him back," said Mrs. Baldwin, and softened her tone. "All will -be forgiven and forgotten."</p> - -<p>But, even as she said this, Tracey saw a nasty glitter in her eye. -He was not so sure that Mrs. Baldwin was actuated by Christian -intentions in wanting her lost husband back. In spite of her apparent -good-nature, she was petty and spiteful. It might be, that she wished -her husband back to make things hot for him. "Tell me really why you -wish him to return?" said Luther.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Baldwin breathed hard, and looked at her daughter. "Send Gerty -out of the room," she said suddenly, and forthwith this was done. When -alone with Tracey, who was more puzzled than ever, Mrs. Baldwin again -became energetic. "There was a diamond necklace," she said.</p> - -<p>"Ah," replied the American, whistling; "I see, Rufus nabbed it?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Baldwin took no notice. "I want my necklace back," she said; "it -was given to me by Gerty's father, and I intend to present her with it -on her wedding-day. You are to marry her, Mr. Tracey; so if you want -Gerty to look a lady, as she always is, you will catch Rufus, and make -him give up the necklace."</p> - -<p>Tracey smiled, and shook his head. "It's not to be done, Mrs. Baldwin. -Your husband's been gone for years, and the necklace has long ago been -sold. Besides, you would have to prosecute him. Think of the children, -ma'am."</p> - -<p>"I want back my diamond necklace," said Mrs. Baldwin, who was like a -very obstinate child. "Oh, how I hated that man!" In her rage she -forgot her pretended weakness. "Mr. Tracey," she rose to her feet in a -kind of cold fury, worthy of Mrs. Fane, "Rufus was a brute. Why I -married him I don't know. He said he had money, and he hadn't. I found -out that at one time he had been in gaol for burglary. No wonder he -took my diamond necklace. I want him caught and punished. I have -always spoken well of him all these years for the children's sake, but -I have never forgotten his brutal ways, Mr. Tracey." In real earnest, -she laid her fat hand on his arm. "That man struck me. He spent my -money; he made love to the servants. He was all that was bad--a thief, -a liar, a profligate, a----"</p> - -<p>"That's all right," said Luther soothingly, and led her back to her -seat, where she sat and sobbed. "The man was a bad egg. In that case -let him alone, for the children's sake. Can he touch your money?"</p> - -<p>"No. Gerty's father left it all in my own name. I am free of him in -every way."</p> - -<p>"Then you let him alone. He has deserted you for over seven years, so -he can't come back to make things unpleasant, and----"</p> - -<p>"Let him come," said Mrs. Baldwin viciously. "I want him to come. -I'll make things unpleasant for him--the brute."</p> - -<p>"But you never said anything of this before, ma'am?"</p> - -<p>"No," replied the woman heavily. "Because he passed out of my memory, -so to speak. But when I saw his face at the window, it all came back -to me--all--all. I want him caught and punished;" she caught Tracey's -arm. "He is a burglar, mind, and he may break into my house and kill -me. You don't know what a scoundrel he is."</p> - -<p>"Yet you always gave us to understand that he was a good sort."</p> - -<p>"For the children's sake. That's why I sent Gerty out of the room. I -don't want her to know, although he is no kith or kin of hers."</p> - -<p>"Then you leave things as they are, ma'am, for the children's sake."</p> - -<p>"No," said Mrs. Baldwin, between her teeth. "If I catch him, and the -law won't punish him, I'll do so myself. I'll keep a pistol by me. -I'll shoot him if he attempts to enter my house! Yes, I will."</p> - -<p>"Tracey was amazed at the change in the woman. The lazy, good-natured -creature he knew was gone, and in her place stood a woman as -vindictive as the adventuress of an Adelphi drama. He asked for a -description of Rufus Baldwin, but by this time Mrs. Baldwin had -changed her mind.</p> - -<p>"No, I shan't tell you any more," she said quietly. "You forget what I -have said. Don't advertise. The law won't punish him, and I dare say -my diamond necklace has gone to pieces by this time. I'll keep a -pistol beside me, and shoot him if he comes."</p> - -<p>"No! no! He won't come again."</p> - -<p>"Yes he will. He came the other night. I saw him at the window. I -cried out at the sight of his wicked face. But I won't scare him away -next time. No, I'll wait and let him come near me, then I'll kill him. -That's what I'll do," and then she began gradually to relapse into the -lazy woman who had entered. "How hot it is."</p> - -<p>In compliance with her request Tracey went out to call Gerty. He was -astonished by the sudden changes in Mrs. Baldwin's demeanour, and -asked Gerty a question. "Say, does your momma drink?"</p> - -<p>"No. Certainly not, Luther. Why do you ask?"</p> - -<p>"Well, she's that queer."</p> - -<p>"Something has upset her, I know," said Gerty quickly; "what is it?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Baldwin appeared at the door and answered that question. "Don't -tell her," she said sharply. "Gerty dear, you are too inquisitive. I -am upset by the appearance of Rufus--that's all."</p> - -<p>"Is Luther to advertise?" asked Gerty, wondering.</p> - -<p>"No," Mrs. Baldwin walked to the gate, "I have a better way than -that--a much better way," and she opened the gate.</p> - -<p>"Say," Tracey detained Gerty, "do you sleep in your mother's room?"</p> - -<p>"No. Why do you ask?"</p> - -<p>"Because she's got a kind of craze about that husband of hers. You -make some excuse and sleep in her room for a week or so till she -forgets that the man came back. And if you see anything queer wire me, -I'll be down in a shake. You catch on, Gerty B.?"</p> - -<p>"No. What do you----"</p> - -<p>Before Tracey could reply Mrs. Baldwin hailed them. "Here's Mr. -Calvert. Gerty, come away," so the girl reluctantly had to go to her -mother, but not before she whispered Tracey to write and explain.</p> - -<p>"Can't, my dear," he whispered back uneasily. "I promised to hold my -tongue. But keep an eye on your mother. Now do."</p> - -<p>"There was no time to say any more, as Mrs. Baldwin was coming up the -path with Arnold. She was telling him of her sufferings at great -length, and nothing remained of the virago who had displayed such -fierceness in the white room, save an unusually high colour. Tracey -nodded to Calvert, who looked rather excited. Then came the toil of -getting Mrs. Baldwin away, which took as long a time as it usually -does to launch a ship. At last the cab drove off, and Gerty waved a -farewell handkerchief to Tracey. Then the young men went into the -house.</p> - -<p>"I don't envy you Mrs. Baldwin, Tracey," said Calvert.</p> - -<p>"I guess you've hit the bull's-eye," replied the American gloomily; -"she's not such a fool as she looks, that old ma'am."</p> - -<p>"Oh, she doesn't look a fool," said Arnold easily, "only lazy."</p> - -<p>"And she ain't that neither. I guess there's spirit in the old party. -You could have knocked me down flat when she rose on her hind legs."</p> - -<p>"Was she--er--on her hind legs?" inquired Calvert delicately.</p> - -<p>"Considerable! But it's private business. Only I hope I won't be mixed -up with another murder case. One's good enough for me, anyhow!"</p> - -<p>"Do you mean to say----" began Arnold startled.</p> - -<p>"That she knows anything to the circus we're running? No, I don't. -She's got her own little Sheol--sulphur, match, and all. Let her -slide. I dare say it's all bunkum."</p> - -<p>"What is?"</p> - -<p>"Calvert, if you ask any more questions I'll chuck the case."</p> - -<p>"Oh, beg pardon," said Arnold, astonished at seeing the usually -good-tempered man so roused, "don't mind my asking questions. I forgot -the business was private."</p> - -<p>"Won't be long," said Tracey savagely, "if she's on the kind of job -she's trying to carry out. Well," he raised his voice, "what's the -best news with you?"</p> - -<p>"This," replied Calvert quietly, and from his pocket produced a scrap -of paper. Tracey without displaying any wonder looked at it. It was -half a sheet of pink writing-paper and contained only one line written -across lengthways. "If you get the money look under the coffee stain!" -Tracey read and re-read this, then raised his puzzled eyes. "What's -this, Calvert?"</p> - -<p>"That," replied the young man calmly, "is a piece of paper which I -received from Merry this morning!"</p> - -<p>"Was it enclosed in an envelope?"</p> - -<p>"Arnold handed the envelope which he was holding. It was addressed to -'Arnold Calvert' in a woman's hand of the sloping Italian kind. The -writing on the paper was also in the same handwriting. I guess as -Merry gave you this, and it's a woman's hand, that it comes from your -dead cousin," said Tracey.</p> - -<p>"I thought so!"</p> - -<p>"Didn't she give it to Merry?"</p> - -<p>"No, I went to the office this morning to look at some deeds connected -with the property. They had to turn out the deed-box. It is large and -hadn't been turned out to the very bottom for some time. As we -searched, Merry picked up that envelope which was closed. He gave it -to me. Merry says he never saw it before, so I expect poor Flora -slipped it into the box one day when he was out of the room."</p> - -<p>"But why should she do that?"</p> - -<p>"I am as puzzled to account for her reason as I am to know what the -message means."</p> - -<p>"Can't Merry enlighten you?"</p> - -<p>"No. I tell you he never saw the envelope till he handed it to me."</p> - -<p>"Hold on a shake," said Tracey, handing Calvert a cigarette; "smoke -this while I get my thinking-machine into order."</p> - -<p>"You'll find it difficult to guess what it is," said Calvert, lighting -up. "Merry and I were an hour over it this morning. He doesn't know -what it means, and I'm sure I don't."</p> - -<p>"You must be a couple of thick-heads," snapped Tracey, whose temper -was not improved by Mrs. Baldwin's visit; "the way it's worded shows -that Mrs. Brand expected to be killed."</p> - -<p>Arnold started to his feet. "What do you say?"</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Brand expected to be killed," said the American, with great -distinctness; "she says, 'if you get the money'--well, you couldn't -get the money till she was dead."</p> - -<p>"No, but what does the message mean?"</p> - -<p>Tracey laid the paper on his knees and looked across Calvert's -shoulder with his bright eyes dancing. "Oh, I guess it's panning out -all square," said he quietly; "I came here as you know in the hope of -finding some papers overlooked by that man--or woman--I guess it was a -woman--who made hay while the house was deserted. Evidently the idea -was to destroy all trace of your cousin's past life. Well, sir, I -hunted everywhere without success. Now we'll look for the coffee -stain, and under it we will find some papers which will give the whole -show away. We're on the verge of learning the truth, sir."</p> - -<p>"Then you think that, expecting to be murdered, she hid certain papers -giving a clue to her probable assassin?"</p> - -<p>"Yes I do, and the poor soul dared not put the message plainer, lest -it should fall into other hands than yours."</p> - -<p>"Whose hands, seeing that I am the heir?"</p> - -<p>"You forget that Bocaros was the heir for a time. He might have got -hold of the deed-box, and then"--Tracey shrugged his shoulders--"It's -as plain as day to me!"</p> - -<p>"But do you suspect Bocaros of knowing anything of this crime?"</p> - -<p>"No. He talked too much nonsense at the outset for that. He gave -himself away--always supposing he was guilty. Said that he lived in -the neighbourhood--that the money was coming to him--that he could -easily have gone to the villa and killed Mrs. Brand and would not be -able to prove an <i>alibi</i> by reason of living alone. No! A man who is -guilty doesn't give himself away like that. But Bocaros, had he found -this message, might have torn it up so as to let sleeping dogs lie."</p> - -<p>"Still I don't understand."</p> - -<p>"Well, you see he might have fancied--as I do--that a discovery of the -papers may lead to the implication of the husband in this matter."</p> - -<p>"You think Brand killed his wife?"</p> - -<p>"No. It was a woman, and I believe Mrs. Fane for choice. But Brand may -have loved Mrs. Fane and so the whole trouble may have arisen. I guess -Mrs. Brand was glad to see her husband start for Australia, for I'm -certain from this message that he threatened to kill her. Bocaros -having got the money, and thinking of his living near Ajax Villa, -might have torn it up. Now Mrs. Brand if she was murdered--as she -was--wished the assassin to be brought to justice. The concealed -papers will give the clue." Tracey rose and looked round the room. -"Where the deuce are they, anyhow?"</p> - -<p>"Under the coffee stain," said Arnold, not rising, "and I think -instead of hunting we had better reason the matter out. A coffee-stain -would naturally be on a table-cloth."</p> - -<p>"A white dinner table-cloth," assented Tracey sitting, "but she -couldn't conceal papers there. I've lifted every cloth in the house -white and otherwise--there's white ones here as you see--but I -couldn't find anything. You needn't look at the roof, Calvert. The -coffee-stain won't be there."</p> - -<p>"No," said Arnold looking down, "it may be on the wall.</p> - -<p>"Not unless Brand threw a cup at her head." Tracey glanced round the -walls; they were all spotless and white. "Maybe on the carpet."</p> - -<p>"Have you examined the carpets?"</p> - -<p>"I haven't lifted them, if that's what you mean."</p> - -<p>"Then I dare say the papers are hidden under the carpet of this room."</p> - -<p>"Why here? It may be the dining-room, or----"</p> - -<p>"No," replied Arnold rising, "a coffee-stain would show only on a -white carpet, and it was the peculiar furnishing of this room which -gave her the idea of the hiding-place"--he looked carefully at the -floor--"but I can't see any stain."</p> - -<p>"A woman like Mrs. Brand," suggested Tracey, "proud of the smartness -of this room, would hide any stain. Let's move all mats and -furniture."</p> - -<p>Calvert thought this was a good suggestion, and they set to work. The -piano was moved, but needless to say nothing was found there. The -various draperies were pulled aside. A book-case was shifted. All the -mats were flung out of the door. When they moved everything, still no -stain appeared. Then they came to a thick wooden pedestal bearing a -plaster-of-paris Venus. It was screwed to the floor near the window -and surrounded by mats. "This is the last chance," said Tracey.</p> - -<p>A few minutes' work sufficed to overturn the column. There, beneath -it, and concealed by the base, was the coffee-stain spoiling the -purity of the carpet. Tracey produced a large knife, and ripped up the -carpet. Thrusting in his hand he pulled out a slim green book rather -large in size, and thereon in gilt letters were the words "My Diary!"</p> - -<p>"This solves the mystery," said Tracey quietly, "now we'll learn the -truth."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XVII</h4> - -<h5><a name="div1_17" href="#div1Ref_17">THE PROFESSOR'S TRUMP CARD</a></h5> -<br> - -<p>Inspector Derrick called to see Fane with rather a downcast expression -of countenance. The meaning of this was explained in his conversation.</p> - -<p>"I've done my best, sir, and there's nothing to be discovered."</p> - -<p>"You mean as regards the murder of this woman Brand?" asked Walter.</p> - -<p>"What else would I mean!" replied Derrick dismally. "I have no call to -see you about anything else, sir!"</p> - -<p>"The two men were seated in the morning-room where Mrs. Fane had -conversed with Laura. Walter, seated near the window, did not look -well. There were dark circles under his pale eyes, which hinted at -sleepless nights. Also there was a smell of ether in the room as -though he had been taking drugs. Derrick delicately ascribed his looks -to the fact of the unpleasant occurrence which had taken place in the -house.</p> - -<p>"I suppose you've come to think it haunted, sir?" he suggested.</p> - -<p>"No, I don't like the idea of living in a house in which a murder has -been committed. But I don't believe in the supernatural. For the sake -of my wife and child I am giving up the villa, and we intend to live -abroad for a time. But I should like the mystery solved, and the -assassin of that poor woman brought to justice before I go."</p> - -<p>"Derrick shook his head. It's not to be done, sir."</p> - -<p>"Suppose I offer a reward?"</p> - -<p>"Not even then, Mr. Fane. I can't find a single clue. When I -discovered that white room in the Hampstead house, I thought something -would come of it. But the assassin was clever enough to go there and -remove all evidence of the past life of Mrs. Brand--books, papers, -photographs, and those sort of things. It is true I found a photograph -of the dead woman, but we knew her looks already. Now had it been a -portrait of the husband----"</p> - -<p>"Ah! Do you suspect the husband?"</p> - -<p>"Yes and no," replied Derrick thoughtfully. "Certainly I learned that -the man went to Australia some time before the death. I found his name -in a passenger-list of an Orient liner."</p> - -<p>"Then he can have nothing to do with the crime."</p> - -<p>"Well, I don't know. A man may start for another country to make -things safe for himself, and then can come back secretly. Besides, if -it was not the husband who removed the things, how did he enter the -cottage? and why should he make such a point of destroying his own -photographs had he no aim?"</p> - -<p>"I can't guess. But it is equally mysterious how the woman managed to -enter this house."</p> - -<p>"Yes. I can't learn anything about the key being duplicated. Yet it -must have been, seeing we have the second key which was dropped by the -man who talked to Mulligan."</p> - -<p>"Have you found him?"</p> - -<p>"No; nor am I likely to. I tell you, Mr. Fane, the case is hopeless. I -believe Mr. Calvert, who came in for the money, has placed the matter -in the hands of a private inquiry-agent called Jasher. But if I can't -learn the truth, Jasher can't."</p> - -<p>"Is he a clever man?"</p> - -<p>"Well, he is. I did work with him at one time, and he appears to have -his wits about him. But this case will be beyond his wits as it is -beyond mine. I dare say Mr. Calvert would offer a reward, and I should -like to earn it. But"--Derrick rose and shook his head--"there's -nothing to be done."</p> - -<p>Fane thought for a few minutes, his eyes on the ground. Then he went -to his wife's desk and wrote out a cheque. "You deserve something for -your trouble," said he, handing this to Derrick. "All I ask in return -is that you should give me the photograph of the dead woman. I have a -fancy to try and learn the truth myself."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I'll do that," replied the Inspector, taking the cheque with -thanks; "and I'm sorry, sir, that nothing can be done. But you'll hear -no more of the case. The woman is dead and buried, and the thing is -forgotten. There is only one chance."</p> - -<p>"What is that?" asked Fane curiously.</p> - -<p>"The husband may return to the Hampstead house from Australia. If so, -we may learn something of Mrs. Brand's past, and in her past will be -found some clue leading to the detection of the assassin."</p> - -<p>"But if the husband is guilty, as you think, he will not return."</p> - -<p>"True enough. Should he return, I will take it as a proof of his -innocence. Well, good-day, sir."</p> - -<p>"Wait," said Fane, passing through the door along with his visitor, "I -will walk a little way with you. Tell me if you intend to have the -house watched."</p> - -<p>"The house at Hampstead, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. Brand will come back there if he comes at all."</p> - -<p>"If you like I can have it watched, Mr. Fane; but it will cost money."</p> - -<p>"You can rely on me for the expense," said Fane eagerly. "I am most -anxious that no stone should be left unturned. Watch the house, and -when the man returns there let me know."</p> - -<p>"You can depend upon my doing that, Mr. Fane."</p> - -<p>"The two men were by this time at the door. As Fane opened it, he -found a man on the step just raising his hand to ring the bell. The -stranger was tall and dark, and unknown to Fane. Is there anything I -can do for you?" asked the master of the house.</p> - -<p>"I wish to see Mrs. Fane on business," said Bocaros, for it was he.</p> - -<p>"Ah! something to do with the office, no doubt," replied Fane, and -beckoned to the footman, who now stood ready to close the door. "Take -this gentleman's card to your mistress. She is in the White Room."</p> - -<p>The footman did as he was bidden, and Bocaros waited in the hall. Fane -went out with the Inspector, and walked along Achilles Avenue talking -eagerly. Bocaros sat down with rather a bewildered look, and passed -his lean hand across his face. It seemed to him that he knew Fane's -face, yet he was unaware of having met him before.</p> - -<p>"But his face seems familiar," muttered Bocaros. "Where can I have -seen him?" And he searched his memory vainly.</p> - -<p>Before his brain would respond to the demand on it, the footman -returned with an intimation that Mrs. Fane would see him. Bocaros -followed the man upstairs and into the White Room. Here sat Mrs. Fane, -cold and statuesque as usual, and alone. Minnie was out with her -nurse, and Laura was paying a visit to Gerty. Beside Mrs. Fane stood a -small wicker table on which a book lay open. But she was as usual -engaged in knitting, and apparently preferred her own thoughts to -those of the popular author whose book was beside her. When the -professor entered, she rose gracefully, and looked at him keenly.</p> - -<p>"May I ask what you have to see me about?" said Mrs. Fane, putting her -remark purposely in this way, so as to impress Bocaros with an idea -that he was favoured.</p> - -<p>The professor bowed, and took the chair she pointed to. He had never -seen Mrs. Fane before, and thought her a singularly lovely woman, as -she decidedly was. Also from her stern lips and piercing eyes he -judged that she was a woman who would ruthlessly carry out any scheme -which she had formed, and would press forward dauntlessly in the face -of all dangers. A clever woman, a dangerous woman, and a foe worthy to -be met and conquered. That he would conquer even this Amazon the -professor did not doubt. He knew too much for her to deny, and since -his interview with Emily Doon he had spent the time in getting certain -proofs together.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Fane might be clever, but she would not be able to defend herself -in the face of the facts he proposed to place before her.</p> - -<p>Bocaros, feeling his way carefully, did not reply at once to her -question. "You will see my name on the card," he said quietly.</p> - -<p>"Professor Bocaros," read Mrs. Fane. "I never heard of you."</p> - -<p>"Did not Miss Mason mention me?"</p> - -<p>"I don't recall her having done so."</p> - -<p>"Strange," said the man. "I am a tenant of Mrs. Baldwin."</p> - -<p>"My sister is a friend of Mrs. Baldwin," replied Mrs. Fane, "but it is -not to be thought that she interests herself in Mrs. Baldwin's private -affairs."</p> - -<p>"I live in the little house across the fields."</p> - -<p>"That is very interesting," said Mrs. Fane sarcastically, and -wondering why the man kept telling her things of no note; "and you are -a foreigner--a Greek. Bocaros----"</p> - -<p>"Constantine Bocaros." Then the Professor, feeling nettled by this -behaviour, resolved to startle her. "I am the cousin of the woman who -was murdered in this room," he said abruptly.</p> - -<p>But Mrs. Fane merely raised her eyebrows. "And you have no doubt come -to gratify your morbid curiosity by seeing the place where she was -struck down. Yonder it is, near the piano. Pray look, sir, and then -leave me. I do not show my house for this purpose to chance visitors."</p> - -<p>"Bocaros, meeting her on her own ground, sauntered to the piano with a -kind of cool insolence that made Mrs. Fane observe him attentively.</p> - -<p>"I suppose you know that Mr. Calvert comes in for ten thousand a year -by the death of Mrs. Brand?" said Bocaros, returning to his seat.</p> - -<p>"I have heard so."</p> - -<p>"And he is engaged to marry your sister?"</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Fane could not stand any more of this intrusion into her private -affairs, and rose. Will you please to state your business and go!"</p> - -<p>"There is no need to speak to me like that, madame," said Bocaros, -keeping his seat. "My cousin left me the money--afterwards she changed -her mind and made a new will, leaving it to Calvert."</p> - -<p>"Well, sir, and what has this to do with me?"</p> - -<p>"A great deal, as you will find. I want to learn who killed this -woman, Mrs. Fane."</p> - -<p>"And you come to me. I fear I cannot assist you."</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, I think you can."</p> - -<p>"Sir, you are insolent!" Mrs. Fane, drawing herself up to her full -height, was about to press the button of the bell. Bocaros stopped -her.</p> - -<p>"Wait a little," he said; "you can help me by explaining how you came -to be in this room on the night of the murder."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Fane's hand fell, and she stared at the man. "I was not."</p> - -<p>"You were! Your voice was heard--you sang a favourite song."</p> - -<p>"Indeed!" Mrs. Fane thought for a moment, but without losing her -colour or self-possession in the face of this accusation. Then she -returned to her seat, resolved to give this strange man a hearing. "I -was at the seaside when the crime was committed."</p> - -<p>"So I believe--your husband also?"</p> - -<p>"My husband also," said Mrs. Fane calmly. "Will you be so kind as to -tell me what you mean by these questions?"</p> - -<p>"I want to prove the guilt of Calvert."</p> - -<p>"I cannot help you to do so," she said impatiently.</p> - -<p>"Yes, you can," persisted Bocaros. "Calvert was the young man who left -this house while you were singing. You assisted him to escape. You met -him here. He used the dagger to kill Flora Brand!"</p> - -<p>"What dagger?"</p> - -<p>"The stage weapon which the cook found in the dustbin, and which you -said belonged to you."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Fane leaned her chin on the tips of her fingers, thinking. "You -are a gentleman," said she gravely.</p> - -<p>"I am, madame. I am a Greek noble--the Baron Bocaros."</p> - -<p>"The curled lip of Mrs. Fane showed that she thought very little of a -foreign title, but she went on quietly, watching the man all the time -like a cat. And, indeed, she did not look unlike a magnificent white -cat, sleek and feline and treacherous. Bocaros, hard as he was, winced -at the regard of her narrow eyes. Well, then, Baron Bocaros," said -Mrs. Fane in her low sweet voice, "I will be plain with you. I said -that the dagger was mine, to shield Mr. Calvert----"</p> - -<p>"I know. You are in love with him," burst out the professor.</p> - -<p>"What do you mean, sir?" demanded the woman, a tide of crimson -flushing her face. "I detest the man."</p> - -<p>"But I thought----"</p> - -<p>"Then do not think, if your thoughts lead you into such follies. What? -I love Arnold Calvert--that doll of a man who----"</p> - -<p>"Madame," interrupted Bocaros, wondering if this indignation was -feigned. "Calvert is my enemy, yet I say he is a manly and handsome -young gentleman. Be just!"</p> - -<p>"Just! I am indignant. Are you not aware I am a married woman--that I -have a child? How dare you. But that I insist upon an explanation, I -would have you turned out of the house!"</p> - -<p>"Bocaros arose. There is no need; I will go."</p> - -<p>"No. You will speak out," said she imperiously.</p> - -<p>"I will go," insisted the professor, "and I will take my information -to the police."</p> - -<p>"It is a pity you were not earlier," sneered Mrs. Fane. "Inspector -Derrick, who had charge of the case, was with my husband."</p> - -<p>"I met them going out of the door," replied Bocaros serenely. "Had I -known the gentleman with Mr. Fane was a police officer, I might have -been tempted to speak. But I was resolved to give you a chance to -exculpate yourself."</p> - -<p>"From what?" demanded Mrs. Fane angrily.</p> - -<p>"From participation in the murder of this poor----"</p> - -<p>"How dare you come and accuse me," she burst out furiously. "You must -be mad!"</p> - -<p>"I have proofs which will prove my sanity," said Bocaros, moving to -the door. "But I can show them to Derrick."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Fane intercepted him. "Stop where you are," she said sharply. -"This matter must be sifted to the bottom. Afterwards I shall go with -you myself to the police-station. If you cannot prove what you have -said, I shall have you arrested for threatening language."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I can prove everything," said Bocaros, returning to his seat. "And -since we now understand one another, we can proceed."</p> - -<p>"You will proceed," retorted Mrs. Fane, sitting down also, to answer -my questions, "or you will get into trouble, my good man. You say that -Mr. Calvert was in this room on the night of the murder?"</p> - -<p>Bocaros nodded, sure of his ground. "He left this house at eleven. He -was in his stage dress and spoke to the policeman. He dropped the -latch-key, and murdered----"</p> - -<p>"Stop. You can't be sure that he did. The woman was murdered earlier. -During the evening Mr. Calvert was at the theatre."</p> - -<p>"No. His part was played by his understudy up till half-past nine. He -then played in the last act and came here. He came here earlier," -insisted the professor, "and murdered the woman to get the money."</p> - -<p>"It might be so," muttered Mrs. Fane. "The dagger was a stage one, and -I knew from Laura that he wore one in the second act of the play."</p> - -<p>"He used the dagger and then threw it away into the dustbin."</p> - -<p>"Nonsense," said Mrs. Fane, with a shrug. "How could he get to the -dustbin when the back of the house was locked up?"</p> - -<p>This was a puzzle to Bocaros, but he faced it boldly. "Calvert entered -the house by your connivance, and could easily have unbarred the back -door to conceal his weapon."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" Mrs. Fane looked sharply at her visitor. "So you accuse me of -admitting the man?"</p> - -<p>"I do. You had your husband's latch-key, or had a copy made. You -expected Calvert, and admitted him. Afterwards you gave him the key to -let himself out while you averted suspicion by singing."</p> - -<p>"Indeed! And how did I escape?"</p> - -<p>"You had plenty of time. You can drive a motor-car, madame, as I know, -so you took Mr. Tracey's and went to Charing-Cross Station----"</p> - -<p>"On the way to Westcliff-on-Sea. Rather a roundabout way."</p> - -<p>"Madame, you are very clever, and wished to avert suspicion. You left -the car in the station yard, and then took the underground to -Liverpool Street Station, where you caught the midnight express to -Southend."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Fane changed colour at this explicit relation, and rose to her -feet. "You seem to know a great deal about my movements," said she -coolly.</p> - -<p>"I have satisfied myself in every respect," said Bocaros, bowing.</p> - -<p>"And you say I was in this room on that night--that I sang?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, you sang 'Kathleen Mavourneen.'"</p> - -<p>"Then let me tell you, Professor Bocaros, or baron, if you call -yourself so, that you are quite wrong. I was at Westcliff-on-Sea in my -drawing-room all the evening, miles away from this house. I never came -to London, I did not admit Mr. Calvert into this house, and I never -sang."</p> - -<p>Bocaros shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands -apologetically. "You will compel me to go to the police if you deny -these things."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Fane turned on him in a cold fury. "You fool," she snarled, "do -you think I would deny unless I could prove all I say? You declare -that I sang on that night. Well, you shall hear the song."</p> - -<p>So speaking, she crossed over the room and went behind a white velvet -curtain that hung over a kind of alcove. Wondering what she intended -to do, Bocaros sat and waited. He was astonished at her courage and -resolution, and began to think she might escape him after all. If she -did, he would not be able to prove the guilt of Arnold, since Mrs. -Fane alone could testify to his presence in the house. As he -considered, notes of music were heard behind the curtain. Mrs. Fane's -voice--a splendid contralto--rose in song. With great power and -expression she sang "Kathleen Mavourneen." Suddenly the curtain was -drawn aside and she appeared. But the song still continued, although -she was not singing. "Is that the song?" she asked, mockingly.</p> - -<p>"Madame----" stammered Bocaros, quite astounded and rising.</p> - -<p>"And is this the singer?" she asked, pointing to herself. "See." With -a quick movement she tore the curtain completely aside, and Bocaros -beheld a large phonograph pouring out the song. He gasped and -staggered back overwhelmed. Mrs. Fane advanced, smiling scornfully. "I -think you understand now," she said, seating herself, "how it was that -my voice was heard on that night in this room. Several of my songs are -registered in that instrument. I amuse my child with them. It seems -that I managed to deceive the police and you also, you fool. I wonder, -seeing how hurriedly the accompaniment is played between the verses, -that the police did not guess the truth. Well, what now?"</p> - -<p>The song had stopped, and the phonograph was silent. Bocaros -recovered his wits. "I still maintain that you were in London and in -this house, Mrs. Fane," he said. "You may not have sung save by that -instrument, but as for the rest I am sure. You left your house at -Westcliff-on-Sea at half-past five; you caught the six train to town; -you came here----"</p> - -<p>"Prove these accusations," she interrupted.</p> - -<p>"I have the evidence of the booking-clerk and a porter at the Southend -station to prove how you were dressed and----"</p> - -<p>"Who can say how I was dressed?"</p> - -<p>"Your maid, Emily Doon!"</p> - -<p>"Ah!" Mrs. Fane turned grey to the lips. "She--she----"</p> - -<p>"You see it at last. Yes, madame, you made her sit in the drawing-room -at Westcliff-on-Sea, acting as yourself. You dressed quietly, and she -described your dress to me. It was the same as that of the lady seen -by the porter and the booking-clerk. You returned by the midnight -train, and you were here meanwhile between six and half-past eleven."</p> - -<p>"No! no! no!" said Mrs. Fane fiercely. "You are clever, sir, and you -have found out much that I wished concealed. But not for the reason -you give me. I did not kill this woman. I had no cause to kill the -woman. I never saw her--I did not know her. I was not in this -house----"</p> - -<p>"But I tell you----"</p> - -<p>"And I tell you," she cried, advancing and seizing the man's arm in a -fierce grasp, "that you are wrong. Listen--to defend myself I must -tell you what I had rather kept quiet. I suspected my husband of being -in love with another woman. He received a letter on the morning of the -twenty-fourth from her. I accused him--he denied. I was furious with -rage. He said he was ill, and retired to bed. I did not see him all -the day. When I went in the evening he was gone. I guessed he had gone -to town to see this woman. It was after five. I guessed he would take -the six train. I persuaded Emily to impersonate me. I went to town. On -the Southend platform I saw my husband. I went in another carriage. At -the Liverpool Street Station I missed him and----"</p> - -<p>"And you came on here?"</p> - -<p>"No, I did not. I never thought he would dare to bring any woman -here--nor do I believe that he did so. Where he went I cannot say. But -I waited at the Liverpool Street Station throughout that long evening. -He came late and caught the midnight train. I went down also. He never -saw me, and as I had discovered nothing I said nothing. He never -thought that I had followed him: he never knew I was out of the house. -When I saw the death in the papers I never suspected him. I do not -suspect him now. Walter is too great a coward to commit a crime. And -he certainly would not have got rid of his victim in his own house, -thus bringing down the temple on his own head."</p> - -<p>"You believe him to be innocent?" asked Bocaros, puzzled.</p> - -<p>"I do. Would any man be such a fool as to act this way in his own -house? Had he known this woman, had he desired to get rid of her, he -would have taken her to the other end of London, as far away from our -home as possible."</p> - -<p>"I can see that. And, madame, I ask your pardon for my unjust -suspicions. You are innocent." And he bent to kiss her hand.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Fane snatched it away fiercely. "Innocent,--of course I am. I can -prove that I was at the Liverpool Street Station all that evening. I -was in the ladies' waiting-room. You can understand how the phonograph -deceived the police. As to this woman, I never heard of her--I don't -know her."</p> - -<p>"She is my cousin."</p> - -<p>"Then how did she come to enter my house?"</p> - -<p>"I thought that you secured the key and----"</p> - -<p>"And admitted Arnold. No, I didn't. My sister----" Mrs. Fane suddenly -clutched her hair, moved out of her usual self. "Great heavens!" she -muttered. "Can Laura have got an impression of the key and----"</p> - -<p>"No, no said Bocaros. I am sure Miss Mason has nothing to do with the -matter. But Calvert----"</p> - -<p>"If he is guilty hang him."</p> - -<p>"But I thought----"</p> - -<p>"You thought wrongly. I detest the man. I do not want him to marry my -sister. Professor, do what you like about the man. I will tell all to -the police I have told you if----"</p> - -<p>"I do not wish to speak to the police," said Bocaros, shivering.</p> - -<p>"Then hold your tongue and leave the matter in my hands. I will avenge -you. I will be able to deal with the matter. Leave it to me."</p> - -<p>Bocaros looked at her steadily. "Madame," he said, bowing, "I leave it -to you. Calvert is in your hands."</p> - -<p>"He shall never marry my sister," said Mrs. Fane feverishly. "Never."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XVIII</h4> - -<h5><a name="div1_18" href="#div1Ref_18">A STORY OF THE PAST</a></h5> -<br> - -<p>Fane and Derrick parted at the top of Achilles Avenue, the latter -heartily thanking the former for the very handsome cheque. "And if -that husband returns, sir," said Derrick, shaking hands, "you may be -sure that I'll let you know straight off. By the way"--he drew near -confidentially--"do you know that the motor-car in which the assassin -is supposed to have escaped is in Madame Tussaud's?"</p> - -<p>"No"--Fane laughed--"what possible interest can it have?"</p> - -<p>"Well, sir, you see the mystery of the case makes it interesting. A -lot of people will go there and look at it, and talk about the case."</p> - -<p>"I hope they may stumble upon some evidence likely to give a clue to -the assassin."</p> - -<p>"Bless you, no one will do that, sir. The case has baffled me, so I do -not think there's much chance of any one else getting at the truth. I -think that American gentleman's a smart man of business, though. He -sold the car to Tussaud's at a long price."</p> - -<p>"H'm!" said Fane, pondering, "do you think he had anything to do with -the crime?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir. He missed his motor-car sure enough. Had he killed the -woman, he would have escaped in it and proved an <i>alibi</i>."</p> - -<p>"I think it was better what he did do. He met Mulligan and you, and -with you surveyed the corpse. That daring would avert any suspicion."</p> - -<p>"Have you an idea yourself, sir, that he might----"</p> - -<p>"No, no!" interrupted Fane hurriedly; "it's simply an idea. But I have -learned from Mr. Calvert that Tracey--that's his name, isn't it?--has -taken the Hampstead house."</p> - -<p>"I wonder what's that for?" asked Derrick, startled. "I want to find -out. And I'll ask Mr. Calvert this very day."</p> - -<p>"Are you seeing him to-day, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; I am going there now. He wrote asking me to call this afternoon. -When I leave you I'll take a cab to his lodgings."</p> - -<p>Derrick mused. "I'd like to come along with you," he said.</p> - -<p>"No," replied Fane decisively, "better not just now. I am sure of -nothing. I only fancy Tracey may have had something to do with the -matter. Should I learn anything I shall let you know."</p> - -<p>"Thank you, sir. I fancy the case is finished myself; but of course -something unexpected may turn up. Good-day."</p> - -<p>"Good-day," replied Fane, and hailed a cab.</p> - -<p>Owing to his long conversation with Derrick, there was not much time -to be lost if he wished to be punctual. Wondering if Arnold desired to -see him about Laura, Fane told the cabman to drive as fast as possible -to Bloomsbury. "I expect now that he has the money, Calvert will want -to marry Laura at once," thought Fane, leaning back in the cab. "I'm -sure Julia ought to be satisfied with such a match. But she is an -impossible woman to deal with. I wish I hadn't married her. I shall -never be my own master now."</p> - -<p>It was lucky that things were as they were, for Fane was the last man -in the world to take the initiative. He always required to be governed -and guided, scolded and petted. The slack character of the man could -be seen from his mouth, which was constantly half-open. A pleasant, -handsome, kindhearted man was Fane, but his very good qualities added -to his weakness. His languid good-nature was always getting him into -trouble, and he was kindly not so much from a genuine feeling of the -sort as from a desire not to be troubled. It is much easier to be -yielding in this world than to hold one's own. But those who thus give -way, always have constant troubles. The only way in this best of -possible worlds to keep peace, is to be prepared for war. Human beings -invariably take advantage of one another, and a kind heart is looked -upon as a sign of weakness.</p> - -<p>On arriving at the Bloomsbury lodgings, Fane saw Arnold looking out of -the window, evidently on the watch for his arrival. After dismissing -the cab Fane went up stairs, and on entering Calvert's sitting-room -was greeted by its occupant with signs of restraint. Behind Arnold -stood Tracey, whom Fane recognised from having seen him at the -inquest. The American was also grave, and Fane wondered what was to be -the subject of conversation. It could not be Arnold's engagement to -Laura, or both the men would not look so serious as they did.</p> - -<p>"I am glad to see you, Fane," said Calvert, pushing forward a chair. -"Sit down. I hope you don't mind Mr. Tracey being present? You met him -at the inquest, I believe?"</p> - -<p>"We saw one another," said Fane. "I hope you are well, Mr. Tracey?"</p> - -<p>"I thank you, sir," said Luther gravely, "I am well. And you?"</p> - -<p>"Pretty well," said Fane fretfully; "but this murder has given me a -lot of anxiety. Not a pleasant thing to happen in one's house."</p> - -<p>"By no means, sir," replied Tracey, with a puzzled glance at Calvert. -"Is it true that you are moving, as I have been informed by Miss Gerty -B., the lady I'm engaged to?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; I suppose Miss Mason told her. My wife doesn't like the place -now that it has such a bad reputation. We intend to go abroad for a -time to Switzerland."</p> - -<p>"You'll miss your yachting," said Arnold, who was taking some papers -out of his desk.</p> - -<p>"I don't think I'll yacht any more," said Fane gloomily; "my sea days -are over."</p> - -<p>"Did you yacht much?" asked Tracey.</p> - -<p>"A lot. I sometimes stopped away for a couple of months."</p> - -<p>"What did Mrs. Fane say?"</p> - -<p>Fane laughed. "Oh, she didn't mind. She never cared for the sea -herself. Between you and me, Mr. Tracey, my wife is fonder of business -than pleasure. I am the reverse."</p> - -<p>"All the same, Fane, you must attend to business now."</p> - -<p>"What, Calvert, do you call your engagement to Laura business?"</p> - -<p>Arnold looked surprised. "I did not ask you here to talk about that," -he replied still seriously.</p> - -<p>"Oh," answered Fane carelessly, and taking out a cigarette, "I thought -you wanted me to make things square with Julia."</p> - -<p>"Laura and I understand one another," said Arnold, returning to his -seat with a green-covered book in his hand. "I am now well off, and -there is no bar to our marriage."</p> - -<p>"I am glad of that. A lucky thing for you, the death of that woman."</p> - -<p>"I would rather she had lived, poor soul," said Calvert with emotion.</p> - -<p>Fane shrugged his shoulders. "We all have to die some time."</p> - -<p>"But not by the knife," put in Tracey sharply. "The poor soul, as -Calvert calls her, met with a terrible death."</p> - -<p>"I know, I know," said Fane irritably. "I wish you wouldn't dwell on -the matter, Mr. Tracey. It is excessively unpleasant for me, seeing I -live in the house where she was killed. Why don't you offer a reward -to clear up the mystery, Calvert?"</p> - -<p>"I don't think there will be any need now," said Arnold with emphasis.</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?" Fane sat up suddenly. "Because Tracey and I have -reason to believe we have found the assassin."</p> - -<p>"What!" Fane sprang to his feet much excited. "Who is it? Tell me his -name."</p> - -<p>"What would you do if you knew it?" asked Tracey, who was looking at -Fane with great wonderment.</p> - -<p>"Do," said the other, clenching his fist, "I would hang the man."</p> - -<p>"How do you know it was a man? It may have been a woman."</p> - -<p>"Why do you say that, Mr. Tracey?"</p> - -<p>"Well, there was the singing, you know."</p> - -<p>"Nonsense! I never thought of it at the time, but now I know that the -singing proceeded from a phonograph."</p> - -<p>"Phonograph!" cried both men, much astonished.</p> - -<p>"Yes. Julia had an idea of getting records of her songs. She sings -very well, you know, Calvert. She has had a phonograph for a long -time, and amuses the child with it. That song, 'Kathleen Mavourneen,' -is a favourite with my wife, and I wondered afterwards how it came to -be sung, seeing she was at Westcliff-on-Sea. Then, when a description -was given of the kind of voice, I knew it was the phonograph."</p> - -<p>"Why didn't you say so at the inquest?" asked the American sharply.</p> - -<p>"Because it never struck me till later. But that's enough about the -matter. I'm weary of the murder. Let us talk of other things."</p> - -<p>"I am afraid we cannot," said Arnold, holding up the book! "Do you -know what this is, Fane?"</p> - -<p>"No," said the other, staring; "what is it?"</p> - -<p>"The diary of Mrs. Brand."</p> - -<p>"How strange," said Fane, but his voice sounded nervously uncertain; -"where did you find it?"</p> - -<p>"It was concealed," said Tracey, with emphasis; "the man who removed -all evidence of Mrs. Brand's past life could not find it. And by means -of that diary, Mr. Fane, we are enabled to prove a lot."</p> - -<p>"If you can prove who murdered the woman I shall be glad to hear."</p> - -<p>"You really mean that?" asked Tracey, staring in his turn.</p> - -<p>"Of course." Fane stared at Tracey in return, and then looked at -Arnold. "I'm glad you sent for me, Calvert. Let us hear everything."</p> - -<p>"It is the story of Mrs. Brand's life----"</p> - -<p>"Oh! And has it to do with the murder?"</p> - -<p>"I think so."</p> - -<p>"Does it point to the assassin?"</p> - -<p>"It may even do that. But we can't be sure."</p> - -<p>Fane threw back his head and closed his eyes. "Read on," he said; "I -will give you my opinion."</p> - -<p>Tracey and Calvert glanced at one another again, and then the latter -opened the book. Fane, hearing the rustle of the leaves, sat up.</p> - -<p>"I say, you needn't read all that," he said; "I can't stand reading at -any time, not even from an actor. Tell me the gist of the matter."</p> - -<p>"From the beginning?" asked Arnold, closing the book.</p> - -<p>"Certainly--from the very beginning."</p> - -<p>"As you please," replied Calvert, and handed the book to Tracey. Fane, -still smoking, again leaned back his head and closed his eyes. After a -pause, Arnold commenced the story. But after a few words, he broke -down irritably--</p> - -<p>"I can't tell you the thing if you don't look at me."</p> - -<p>"Thanks," said Fane lazily, "I can hear better with my eyes closed."</p> - -<p>"Oh, don't bother!" cried Tracey roughly to Calvert. "Get along. The -thing's getting on my nerves."</p> - -<p>"I hope it won't get on mine," said Fane, with a sigh; "go on."</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Brand," commenced Arnold, without further preamble, "was the -daughter of my uncle----"</p> - -<p>"Yes," murmured Fane, "I heard she was your cousin."</p> - -<p>"I suppose you heard that from Laura," replied Arnold calmly. "Yes, -she was my cousin, and left her fortune to me, although I saw very -little of her. She is also--or rather, seeing she is dead, was -also--the cousin of Professor Bocaros, whose aunt married my uncle."</p> - -<p>"Never heard of him," said Fane.</p> - -<p>"You will hear of him now," said Calvert tartly; "do not interrupt, -please. Well, Flora----"</p> - -<p>"Who is Flora?" asked Fane again.</p> - -<p>"My cousin, Mrs. Brand. She was Flora Calvert. She kept a diary all -these years, as she led a rather lonely life. The man she married was -a commercial traveller, and was frequently away. His name was Brand, -and with his wife he lived at Hampstead."</p> - -<p>"In Coleridge Lane. I know."</p> - -<p>"Tracey muttered something uncomplimentary, and went to the window. -Fane's constant interruptions got on his nerves. During the rest of -the story he occupied a chair, and amused himself with looking out. -All the same he lost nothing of what passed. For such observation had -he been asked by Arnold to be present at the interview.</p> - -<p>"From the diary, which begins with her married life, it appears that -Mrs. Brand was very happy with her husband," went on Calvert. "She met -him at some open-air entertainment, where she was in danger of being -crushed by the crowd. Brand rescued her, and afterwards called on -Flora, who was then living with her mother. He called himself Adolphus -Brand."</p> - -<p>"Was that not his name?"</p> - -<p>"It is hard to say. When he first came to see Flora he told her his -name was Wentworth. She related her life, and how she expected to -inherit a fortune from an uncle called Arthur Brand who lived in -Australia. Wentworth thereupon said that he also had a cousin called -Brand, from whom he expected money. It was probable, he said, that if -he did get this money he would have to change his name. A few months -later he proposed to marry Flora, but could not do so until he got the -money."</p> - -<p>"Was it a large fortune?" asked Fane.</p> - -<p>"Not very large--a few thousand pounds. One day Brand stated that his -cousin was dead, and that he had the money on condition that he -changed his name. Now you see, Fane, how Wentworth came to be called -Brand. It was curious that he should have the same name as the uncle -from whom Flora hoped to get money."</p> - -<p>"A coincidence," said Fane coolly; "these things happen in real life. -It is only in fiction that coincidences appear to be absurd."</p> - -<p>"Well, to continue the story," said Arnold, stealing a glance at the -American, "Brand married my cousin after the death of her mother. He -took her to live at Gunnersbury."</p> - -<p>"I thought you said they lived at Hampstead."</p> - -<p>"Later on they did, but not when they first married. Brand--as he -said--was a commercial traveller."</p> - -<p>"As he said; you doubt his statement then?"</p> - -<p>"I have reason to," responded Calvert gravely. "Please let me tell the -story in my own way. You can comment on it when it is done. Brand -being, as he said, a commercial traveller, was often away for months -at a time. Flora, suspecting nothing wrong----"</p> - -<p>"Why should she?" asked Fane.</p> - -<p>"Wait," said Arnold. "Flora, suspecting nothing wrong, was quite happy. -Her husband was fond of her, and they lived in complete harmony. He -had banked the money he received from his cousin, and proposed later, -when his business affairs were more prosperous, to furnish a house for -her. Especially did he promise to furnish a White Room."</p> - -<p>Fane sat up, with a lively expression on his face. "Ah, now, this is -becoming interesting. I have a White Room in my house."</p> - -<p>"Yes. And poor Flora was murdered there."</p> - -<p>"By whom?" asked Fane innocently.</p> - -<p>"You'll hear that later. To resume the story. Things were arranged in -this way, and husband and wife lived very comfortably, although -neither had money. But Flora expected to get a large fortune from her -Australian relative. He had promised to leave it to her, and -corresponded constantly with her. Afterwards finding Gunnersbury -inconvenient for his business, Brand removed to Hampstead. Flora took -Fairy Lodge, and furnished it and attended to all that. The husband -should have done that work," said Arnold with emphasis, "but for some -reason he rarely showed himself. Flora's landlord, for instance, never -set eyes on Mr. Brand."</p> - -<p>"He seems to have been a mysterious person," said Fane coolly. "Go on, -please. The story is becoming exciting."</p> - -<p>"It will be so before it is finished. Well, Flora settled down in -Fairy Lodge. Her husband stayed away a great deal."</p> - -<p>"On business?" interrupted Fane.</p> - -<p>"So he said," replied Calvert calmly; "but he was away months at a -time. Flora never suspected anything to be wrong. But after a time she -noticed that Brand was not so loving as he had been. He tried to make -it up to her by promising to furnish the grand house they had often -talked about. But Flora would not let him do this until the money came -from the Australian relative. Then news came that the old man was ill. -He wrote and told Flora that a will had been made in her favour, -leaving her all his money, which amounted to some thousands a year."</p> - -<p>"The money you have now?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," assented the young man; "the money I have now. On hearing the -news Brand would not be restrained any longer. He told Flora that he -would furnish the house, but that he must be allowed to do it in his -own way. He did not tell her where the new house was, nor did he -consult her about the furnishing."</p> - -<p>"What about the White Room then?"</p> - -<p>"He knew how to furnish that," said Arnold quickly; "the White Room -was a freak on the part of my cousin. She always had a fancy to have a -room entirely white, and she had one at Hampstead.</p> - -<p>"I had one at Troy," said Fane coolly; "what of that?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing. Only it is strange that you should have had the same idea of -furnishing an odd room as Flora. Well, then, things were thus a year -or two ago when news came that the Australian Brand had married his -housekeeper, and that the money would likely be left to her."</p> - -<p>"What a blow to your cousin," said Fane ironically.</p> - -<p>"Yes; a great blow. From the moment the news arrived Brand grew colder -than ever, and stayed away for longer periods. Husband and wife began -to quarrel, as Flora fancied herself neglected. Life grew more and -more unhappy, as I find from the unfortunate woman's diary, until she -was thoroughly miserable about the beginning of the present year. It -was shortly before July that she received a visit from her Greek -cousin Bocaros."</p> - -<p>"What did he come to see her for?"</p> - -<p>"To find a friend," said Arnold gravely. "The man was lonely and -unhappy. So was Flora. The two got on well, but Bocaros never saw -Brand. He had gone to Australia."</p> - -<p>"Why did he go there?"</p> - -<p>"He thought he might be related to Brand, seeing that his cousin who -had left him the money bore that name. He fancied that if this were so -he might induce old Brand in Australia to give Flora some of the -money, and so went to Australia. While he was away Flora received a -letter stating that Brand was dead, and that the money was hers."</p> - -<p>"What about the marriage?"</p> - -<p>"That was a strange thing, Fane. Of course Brand's marriage -invalidated the will leaving Flora the money. He did many his -housekeeper, but he refused to make a new will, as it seems she had -trapped the old man into the marriage. When Brand died, it was found -that the woman had been married before. Therefore----"</p> - -<p>"The marriage was no marriage, and the will in Mrs. Brand's favour -stood firm," said Fane. "Is that what you mean?"</p> - -<p>"It is. The marriage being no marriage gave the property to Flora. She -saw Laing and Merry, and learned that she inherited about ten thousand -a year."</p> - -<p>Fane gave a kind of groan. "Ten thousand a year," he repeated, "and -you have this money--lucky fellow!"</p> - -<p>"I would rather it had not come to me, Fane, than in such a way."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"By the tragic death of my cousin."</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes," said Fane irritably; "how you harp on that murder. Go on."</p> - -<p>"Well, then, Mrs. Brand had the money. It was then that Bocaros told -her that Brand was false."</p> - -<p>"How do you mean false?"</p> - -<p>"Brand," said Arnold, keeping his eyes on the other man's face, "was -married to another woman and under another name--probably his real -name. Bocaros found this out."</p> - -<p>"How do you prove that?"</p> - -<p>"By the diary, which is kept up to the very day my miserable cousin -went to the house where her husband posed as a married man."</p> - -<p>"Go on," said Fane very calm.</p> - -<p>"It was at this time Brand came back."</p> - -<p>"I thought you said he had gone to Australia."</p> - -<p>"So he had," explained Arnold; "but he told Flora that he had heard of -Brand's death, and had not thought it worth while to go on. Flora told -him she had the money, and then accused him of being married. He -denied this. There was a great row, and Brand left the house. Bocaros -came back. He insisted that what he said about the second marriage was -true, but he refused to tell Flora the real name of her husband. He -said, however, that he would take her to the house. He advised her to -obtain an impression of the key in Brand's pocket, so that she might -prove to herself by the key fitting that the house was her husband's. -The plan commended itself to Flora. When Brand returned she pretended -to believe his lies, and took an impression of the key when he was -asleep. This she gave to Bocaros, who got a duplicate key made. He -gave her this. Brand then thinking all was right with Flora, departed. -Flora arranged to meet Bocaros at the house of Brand on the night of -the 24th of July."</p> - -<p>Fane rose with a white face, and began to walk to and fro. "Go on," he -said harshly; "what more?"</p> - -<p>"Is there anything more to tell?" said Arnold, also rising. "Flora -went to your house. Whether she met Bocaros there or not I cannot say. -Her diary is written up to the time she set out on that last journey. -Before leaving, and thinking she might be in danger, she hid the -diary, and left a note for me in the deed-box at Laing and Merry's, -the lawyers. But she went to the house before nine, she admitted -herself with the duplicate latch-key, and in the White Room, which -really and truly had been furnished for her, she met with----"</p> - -<p>"Stop cried Fane, his lips grey and his face drawn and white; am I to -understand that you accuse me of being the husband of Mrs. Brand?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Mr. Brand, I do. Your name is Fane, but you called yourself -Brand to marry Flora. Your first marriage is a real one, your second -false. You are a bigamist and----"</p> - -<p>"And a murderer. Why not say the word?"</p> - -<p>"I do say it. You are the man who stabbed that poor woman when she was -at the piano. You set the phonograph going so that the police might be -deceived. The dagger you used was one left by me at Flora's by -accident. She took it with her, poor soul, perhaps to kill you for -having treated her so. Heaven only knows to what lengths her misery -might not have carried her and----"</p> - -<p>"Lies! Lies! All lies!" said Fane furiously. "I am not the man. I -don't believe this cock-and-bull story. Julia Mason is my true wife."</p> - -<p>"Julia Mason is Julia Mason still," said Arnold.</p> - -<p>"No. I know nothing of your cousin. I dare you to prove that I am the -husband of Flora Brand."</p> - -<p>"I guess I can do that," said Tracey, stepping forward and producing a -photograph from his pocket. "I remained in that Hampstead house, Mr. -Brand-Fane, to search and see what I could find in order to set things -square. I found an old photograph of Mrs. Brand. I went to the -photographer's and learned that she had been taken at one time some -years ago along with her husband. Here's the photograph, and you will -see that you are the man."</p> - -<p>Fane nervously snatched the photograph, and looked at it. There he -was in the company of Flora Brand. With a groan he dropped the -photograph, staggered to a chair, and covered his face. "It has come -out at last," he groaned.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XIX</h4> - -<h5><a name="div1_19" href="#div1Ref_19">STILL A MYSTERY</a></h5> -<br> - -<p>The two men stood in silence, looking down on the wretched creature -shivering in the chair. Walter Fane had never been much of a man, and -now that his guilt had been brought home to him, he looked more of a -craven than ever. A rat would have showed a braver front, for when in -a corner that animal will fight. But Fane did not even show his teeth. -He lay in the chair, huddled up, with his face covered, and moaned -like a rabbit taken in a trap.</p> - -<p>There seemed no doubt as to his guilt, and none was in the mind of the -two men who had hunted him down. The evidence was without a flaw, and -if Fane escaped the gallows, he so richly-deserved, it would be more a -miracle than by any natural occurrence. The diary of his wife, -identified him with the husband who had grown weary of her. The -evidence of the key showed how she had entered the house, which had -originally been furnished for her, and it only remained to learn from -the lips of the assassin precisely how the crime had been committed. -Fane made no attempt to defend himself. He did not even state that he -had been at Westcliff-on-Sea on the night, and at the very time of the -murder. He simply lay there crushed, and in spite of the horror of the -cold-blooded crime he had committed, in spite of his cowardliness, the -two men pitied a human being who could fall so low, and behave so -basely. Even the courage of a rogue can be admired, but there was -nothing worthy of admiration in the conduct of the man who had thus -been caught.</p> - -<p>Arnold spoke first, and even though he pitied in some ways the man, he -could not render his voice other than cold and harsh. "Well, Fane," he -said sharply, "and what is to be done?"</p> - -<p>Fane did not reply. He only moaned. Tracey answered for him. "There's -only one thing to be done, I guess," said he; "hand him over to the -police. He deserves it."</p> - -<p>The miserable man sprang to his feet with a shrill cry. "No! no! I -will kill myself first. You shall not--you shall not"; and he glared -at them with dishevelled hair and bloodshot eyes, his face white, his -lips grey in an extremity of fear. Calvert took no notice but turned -to the American.</p> - -<p>"I am unwilling to do that," he said. "After all I am to marry Laura, -and there is her sister to be considered. Should the whole truth be -made public, Mrs. Fane will suffer. She is not this man's wife. I must -think of her and the child, Tracey."</p> - -<p>"That's true," assented the other, pondering. Then he looked up in a -brisk manner. "I reckon the best thing is for Fane here to tell us the -whole story."</p> - -<p>"You have heard the story," moaned Fane, still hiding his shameful -face.</p> - -<p>"Not your version of it," said Tracey. "I dare say you'll try and make -black appear white, and swear you didn't kill your wife."</p> - -<p>Fane looked up. "I'll swear to that certainly," he said solemnly. "I -did not kill her."</p> - -<p>Arnold turned from him in disgust, thinking to save his neck he was -lying, but Walter caught him by the coat. "Calvert! Calvert! listen to -me only a moment--only a moment. I swear by all that's holy that I did -not lay a finger on Flora."</p> - -<p>"You acknowledge that she was your wife?"</p> - -<p>"I do--I do."</p> - -<p>"And that she came to the house?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes!"</p> - -<p>"And that you saw her there?"</p> - -<p>"Not alive--not alive. She was dead when I set eyes on her."</p> - -<p>"That's a lie, anyhow," said Tracey.</p> - -<p>"It is not a lie."</p> - -<p>"It is. You want to save your neck. Hang it man, confess, and die like -a man. You killed this poor woman to rid yourself of her."</p> - -<p>"No! I didn't. I swear I didn't. Oh, why won't you believe me?"</p> - -<p>"You are such a liar," said Tracey. "But I don't want to be hard on -you. Take a drink of brandy. It will pull you together. Calvert, with -your permission----"</p> - -<p>The American went to the side-board and filled a glass. While he was -thus occupied, Calvert touched the man on the shoulder. Fane, who had -again sunk into the chair, trembling and white, looked up. "Take the -brandy," said Calvert quietly, "and then tell us your story. Until I -am absolutely convinced of your guilt, I am willing to give you the -benefit of the doubt."</p> - -<p>"Oh bless you--bless you!" Fane seized Arnold's hand, and tried to -kiss it, but the young man drew it away, with an ejaculation of -disgust, and wiped it.</p> - -<p>"Be a man," he said angrily. "If you had nerve enough to kill poor -Flora in that brutal manner, surely you can face the result."</p> - -<p>"I didn't kill her, I tell you," cried Fane in an hysterical manner. -"I am as innocent as you are. Give me the brandy--give--ah!"</p> - -<p>He had it to his lips by this time, and drained the glass of neat -spirits at a draught. Then he coughed, placed the glass on the table, -and sat down. The spirit give him the courage he lacked, and after a -few moments he looked up, more composed.</p> - -<p>"Sit down, Calvert, and you, Mr. Tracey. I'm going to make a clean -breast of it. But you will not find me so bad as you think."</p> - -<p>"Whatever you may say, the case is bad enough," growled Tracey, and -took a seat. Calvert did the same, and both pair of eyes were turned -expectantly on the culprit. Fane began in a hurry, as though he was -afraid lest the effect of the spirit should die out, and leave him -powerless to finish his gruesome recital.</p> - -<p>"I am the husband of Flora Brand," he declared in a low voice, and -with a flushed face, induced by shame at his position. "I met her five -or six years ago--I forget the exact time--and married her."</p> - -<p>"Why did you call yourself Wentworth?" asked Arnold.</p> - -<p>Fane wriggled and looked down. "I hardly know," he said faintly. "I -wanted----" he paused, then out came the truth with a violent effort. -"I wanted two strings to my bow."</p> - -<p>"As how?" asked Tracey, watching him.</p> - -<p>"In this way. I met Flora in a crowd at some fireworks. She was in -danger of being crushed. I rescued her. She was pretty, and I admired -her. I followed up the acquaintance, and called on her mother."</p> - -<p>"As Wentworth?"</p> - -<p>"Yes! I--I----" here Fane wriggled again, and made an effort as though -swallowing a lie. "I called myself Wentworth, because I didn't wish -her to know my real name. For the same reason I said I was a -commercial traveller."</p> - -<p>"I don't see the reason."</p> - -<p>"You will soon," said Fane, with a cynical look, for, as the brandy -took more effect on him, he became bolder. "I had a small sum of money, -and no occupation. If I wanted to be at ease, it was necessary that I -should marry a rich woman. I wanted to leave a way of escape."</p> - -<p>"I see," said Tracey, in a tone of disgust. "You intended to marry -Flora under your false name, so that should occasion offer, you might -marry a wealthy woman under your real one."</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Fane calmly; "that was my intention. But I did not intend -to marry Flora at all at first. Then I fell so deeply in love with her -that I decided to ask her to be my wife. She told me of the money she -expected from Brand in Australia, and of course that made me eager to -marry her."</p> - -<p>"Then why did you take the name of Brand?"</p> - -<p>"One of my friends saw me in the neighbourhood, and I could no longer -assume the name of Wentworth. Flora's mother was just dead, so I told -her that I expected money from a man called Brand, who had the same -name as the man in Australia."</p> - -<p>"You got the name from him?"</p> - -<p>"Yes</p> - -<p>"Well," said Calvert, "I don't see your reason for the change of name. -Wentworth would have served quite as well to hide your contemplated -villainy. I suppose you know, Mr. Fane, that even though you married -Flora under a false name, the marriage holds good."</p> - -<p>Fane shivered. "Yes, I learned that from my lawyer when I went to see -him about my marriage with Julia. I had no intention of committing -bigamy. Circumstances were so strong----"</p> - -<p>"Oh, chuck that," said Tracey roughly; "get along with the yarn."</p> - -<p>"Fane looked angrily at the indignant face of the American, and -obeyed. He had no alternative.</p> - -<p>"I took the name of Brand, and married Flora. We lived at Gunnersbury, -and were always talking what we should do, when we got the Brand -money. I intended to furnish a house with the money I had."</p> - -<p>"What about the White Room?"</p> - -<p>"That was a favourite fancy of Flora's. She loved a white room. I -promised to furnish one in the new house."</p> - -<p>"Then you did not furnish Ajax Villa for Miss Mason?"</p> - -<p>"No; for Flora. News came that the old man was very ill--probably -dying. The money had been left to Flora. On the strength of that, I -spent my money in furnishing the villa, so that when we inherited the -fortune I might take Flora there."</p> - -<p>"It seems to me you counted your chickens before they were hatched, -Fane," said Calvert; "but it's just the sort of thing a weak man like -you would do. I suppose you loved Flora in a way."</p> - -<p>"I did love her. I loved her very dearly. Had I not done so I would -have severed myself from her when I married Julia. As it was----"</p> - -<p>"You betrayed both women," finished Calvert. "Yes?"</p> - -<p>Fane hung his head, for the scorn in Calvert's voice was hard to bear -with patience.</p> - -<p>"I knew Julia for some time, and knew she was rich. She took a fancy -to me, and I saw that I would only have to ask her to be my wife, and -she would consent. Then came the news that old Brand had married his -housekeeper. I thought it was all up with the chance of getting the -money, so I married Julia. As a commercial traveller (as Flora -believed me to be) I could stop away for a long time. I induced -her to take the Hampstead house, and did not appear in the matter. I -acted----"</p> - -<p>"Like a mean hound!" cried the American wrathfully. "In our country -you'd have been tarred and feathered, and lynched on the top it."</p> - -<p>"There's no need to call names," said Fane cynically. "I am at your -mercy, so----"</p> - -<p>"You deserve none."</p> - -<p>"Calvert, I appeal to you," said Fane, turning to the other.</p> - -<p>"You shall have strict justice, and no more," said Arnold, in an icy -tone; "anything I do will be for the sake of your wife and child."</p> - -<p>Fane shrugged his shoulders, and sneered. "Virtuous men," he said; "oh, -what virtuous men! But had you been in a dilemma, as I was, you would -have acted as I did. I had little money, having foolishly spent a lot -on the furnishing of Ajax Villa. Also, I had to pay the rent. And you -know, Calvert, how magnificently it is furnished."</p> - -<p>"White Room and all," said Calvert, coldly and unsmilingly.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I arranged that to surprise Flora. But after we learned that the -money of Brand would not come to us, we did not get on well together."</p> - -<p>"I guess you made her suffer," said Tracey savagely.</p> - -<p>"No. The fault was with Flora. She thought I was in love with other -women, and was jealous."</p> - -<p>"She had cause to be. Go on."</p> - -<p>"Not so, as far as she knew," replied Fane coolly. "Well, we did not -get on harmoniously. Then, finding matters were desperate with me, I -proposed to Julia, and married her."</p> - -<p>"And you took her to the villa you had prepared for Flora?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I did," said Fane defiantly. "Julia's money could keep up that -house, and Flora had none. I told Julia I was fond of yachting, and -she allowed me to go away for months at a time. She did not mind so -long as I left her control of the business, as I did. I bought into -the firm with a little of my money, and a good deal of hers. The -business rightfully belonged to her, so she did the work."</p> - -<p>"And you went away yachting?"</p> - -<p>"I never yachted at all--or very little," said Fane in a contradictory -manner. "I spent the time when away from Julia with Flora."</p> - -<p>"And the time you indulged yourself as a commercial traveller, you -spent at Ajax Villa," said Calvert.</p> - -<p>"Yes. I managed to keep both wives, and both households."</p> - -<p>"Calvert and Tracey, amazed by the utter shamelessness of the man, -stared at one another. But they could not help admiring the cleverness -which he had employed to live this double life. How long did it last?" -asked Calvert.</p> - -<p>"For three years more or less. At last things became so bad that I -wanted to be away from Flora for a long time. I suggested that I might -be a relative of Brand and that I should go to Australia. Flora -believed that I went."</p> - -<p>"And all the time you were posing as Fane at Ajax Villa?"</p> - -<p>"I was--I told Julia I was tired of yachting. I remained at home----"</p> - -<p>"One of your homes."</p> - -<p>"In my own home," said Fane, with emphasis, "under my own name. I -suppose this man Bocaros--although I don't know him--must have seen me -and have put two and two together."</p> - -<p>"Yes," chimed in Tracey, "and no doubt he heard of you from Miss Mason, -who is a friend of Gerty B. She is the daughter of Bocaros's landlady, -Mrs. Baldwin, and he was frequently at her house."</p> - -<p>Fane groaned. "To think I should have been given away like that," he -said in a melancholy tone, "and I never knew the danger. I wonder why -Bocaros told Flora?"</p> - -<p>"For the money, I guess," said Tracey, "seeing she made a will in his -favour. But that needs clearing up; the professor shall do it. You get -along with your story."</p> - -<p>"There's little more to tell."</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, there's a lot. What about the crime?"</p> - -<p>"I am innocent," protested Fane solemnly; "I came back to Flora while -Bocaros was poisoning her mind. She accused me of being married but I -denied it. She never mentioned Bocaros, or I should have been placed -on my guard. I remained a time in the Hampstead house, and I suppose -while I was there Flora, under the direction of Bocaros, managed to -take an impression of my key. I always wore my latch-key on a chain, -but Flora could easily have taken an impression while I was asleep. -Then I went away for the last time, thinking that her jealous fears -were at rest. She told me about the money, and I was enraged to think -how I was done out of it. Julia has not ten thousand a year," said -Fane sadly, "or anything like it. I would have done better to stick to -Flora."</p> - -<p>"Go on," said Arnold impatiently, "for heaven's sake spare us these -remarks. You left the Hampstead house, thinking all was well."</p> - -<p>"Yes," replied Fane, with a sullen glance at the man who rebuked him, -"and all would have been well but for that interfering Greek. I went -down to Westcliff-on-Sea, and stopped with my wife."</p> - -<p>"With Miss Julia Mason?"</p> - -<p>"With my wife," said Fane savagely; "I look upon her as my wife."</p> - -<p>"Does she know you were married before?"</p> - -<p>"No. She knows a lot and about the death of Flora. But she thinks----"</p> - -<p>Arnold rose. The man sickened him. "Don't say anything more. I can -understand what lies you told her. Come to the point. Why did you come -up on that night to Ajax Villa?"</p> - -<p>Fane gave Arnold a second ugly look. "I came, because on the morning -of the twenty-fourth I received a letter from Flora saying she had -found out my house and was going there on that night to see my wife. -She insisted I should be there also so that she might learn the exact -truth."</p> - -<p>"As though a low-down cuss like you was capable of telling it," said -Tracey, in disgust; "but how did the letter come to the seaside? Did -Mrs. Brand know your address there?"</p> - -<p>"No. The letter was addressed to Ajax Villa, and sent on. It had been -written on the previous day, and had I received it earlier, I should -have gone to Hampstead and seen Flora. As it was, I had no time, and -could see her only at the villa."</p> - -<p>"You had the whole day," said Arnold dryly, "seeing that you received -her letter in the morning."</p> - -<p>"Yes. But Mrs. Fane was in the room when I received it. She became -angry, for she is a very jealous woman. I swore it was not from a -woman. She would not believe me, and all that day kept a watch on me. -I could not get away, yet I felt, to put things straight and to -persuade Flora to hold her tongue, I must. I then pretended to be ill -and went to bed. After five I slipped out and took the six train to -town. I have reason to believe that my wife followed----"</p> - -<p>"We'll come to that later," said Calvert quickly. "Did you go at once -to the villa?"</p> - -<p>"No. Flora said she would not be there till between eight and nine. I -waited in town. Then I met a friend and he detained me till nearly -nine. I got away at last, and went to the villa. It was in darkness. I -could not find Flora in the garden where I expected she would be."</p> - -<p>"You didn't know she had a key?"</p> - -<p>"No. She said nothing about it in her letter. I wondered where she -was, then concluded that as I was late she had gone away. I intended -going to the Hampstead house, but thought I would go into my own for a -time. I opened the door, and went upstairs. I entered the White Room, -and there I found Flora, dead."</p> - -<p>"Dead!" it was Arnold who spoke; "you swear she was dead?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I swear it," said Fane, striking his breast in a somewhat -theatrical manner. "She was lying dead on the mat before the -piano, and had apparently been struck from behind. I looked at my -watch;---it was a quarter past nine. I was horrified and wondered how -she had come by her end. I searched the house. There was no one about, -and all the doors were barred. About half-past nine, while I was -searching in the back, I heard a ring at the door. I was terrified, -and thought if I were found in the house with the dead that I would be -arrested."</p> - -<p>"And it's a pity you were not," said Tracey.</p> - -<p>"A ring at the door at half-past nine," said Arnold thoughtfully; "I -expect that was Laura. She promised to meet me there then. But after a -time, as no one came to the door, she went away."</p> - -<p>Fane stared at Calvert. "What was Laura doing there?" he asked. "I -knew you came, but Laura----"</p> - -<p>"How did you know I came?" said Arnold sharply.</p> - -<p>"I saw you."</p> - -<p>"Where?"</p> - -<p>"In the White Room when you looked at the body."</p> - -<p>"Then you remained in the house?"</p> - -<p>"I was afraid to go," said Fane, with a shudder; "I thought some one -would see me coming out of the house, and that I would be arrested -when the crime came to light. I had an idea of disposing of the body, -but I could not. After the ring at the door I waited for a time. Then -I stole back to the White Room, and took the dagger which was lying by -the body."</p> - -<p>"A stage dagger?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. Though I didn't know it was so at the time. I went to the back -and thrust it into the dustbin out of sight. I was afraid to take it -away with me lest it should be found on me, for that with the dead -body and my relations with the dead woman, would have been evidence -enough to hang me. I hid the dagger in the bin. Then I was coming back -to the room, when I heard footsteps."</p> - -<p>"Whose footsteps?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know. I was too afraid to venture out. I remained in the back -part of the house almost mad with terror. Calvert," cried Fane, -clasping his hands, "I assure you I thought my brain would give way. I -fancied that the police were in the house and that the body had been -discovered. I made up my mind to be arrested. Had I but had the nerve -I would have gone back for the dagger and killed myself."</p> - -<p>Tracey sneered. "People of your sort don't kill themselves. Well, how -long did you hide?"</p> - -<p>"I can't say. Till some time after ten. Then I heard the front door -close and stole out. I went up to the White Room. The body was still -undisturbed. I wondered how I could get away and down to Southend so -as to establish an <i>alibi</i>. Then I waited and heard you come in. Yes, -I heard the door open. I concealed myself behind the hangings of the -room. I saw you enter. You started when you saw the dead and -recognised the body, to my surprise. Arnold, how was it you never knew -me as Flora's husband?"</p> - -<p>"I saw very little of my cousin," said Arnold, "and she scarcely spoke -of you."</p> - -<p>"But the photographs?"</p> - -<p>"I never saw any of you."</p> - -<p>"Yet there were several. Afterwards, when all was quiet, and after the -body was buried, I went to the Hampstead house and removed all papers -and photographs so that my connection with Flora might not be known."</p> - -<p>"You forgot a photograph that Derrick found, and one that I picked -up," said Tracey; "then there was a diary."</p> - -<p>"I never thought of the diary," said Fane, passing his hand across his -face, "yet I should have. Flora told me she kept one, and I might have -guessed she would set down everything. But I was in such terror at -being discovered in the Hampstead house that I forgot."</p> - -<p>"You were a coward right through," said Arnold coldly; "however, go -on. What happened after you saw me?"</p> - -<p>"I waited. You went down the stairs evidently in a great fright. As -you recognised the body I knew you would not call in the police, as -you apparently fancied you might be accused. When you left I went to -the window to see you go out. I saw the officer passing, and then to -make him think that people were in the house, and to drive you away, I -set the phonograph going."</p> - -<p>"I heard it--I was in the hall," said Arnold, "and I was afraid. I -admit it, Fane, I was terribly afraid."</p> - -<p>"I guessed you would be. You left the house. I saw the policeman lean -over the gate to listen. I saw you join him. I saw you walk away. Then -I thought I would escape. When you were gone with the officer, I stole -out. I passed along a by-street. I saw a motor----"</p> - -<p>"My car," said Tracey, "and you took it to Charing Cross."</p> - -<p>"I did," nodded Fane, "then I left it there and caught the underground -railway to Liverpool Street, where I took the express to Southend. The -rest you know."</p> - -<p>"Not who killed Mrs. Brand," said Arnold.</p> - -<p>Fane considered. "I can't tell you who did," he said; "she was dead -before I came, so those who came into the house after ten could not -have killed her."</p> - -<p>"Do you know who they were?"</p> - -<p>"No! I heard footsteps."</p> - -<p>"How do you know there were two?"</p> - -<p>"I only think so. There might have been only one person. I can't say, -I was not in a state to think. I hid, and then all happened as I say. -I don't know who killed my wife. I got back to Southend and afterwards -heard the body had been discovered. I came to town and bluffed out the -whole matter with that fool of a Derrick. When I heard about the -Hampstead house being found I went there before Derrick came, and -removed everything, as I said."</p> - -<p>"Did you find nothing to lead you to think who killed Mrs. Brand?"</p> - -<p>Fane hesitated. "I can hardly say," he said, feeling in his -watchpocket, "but as you know so much you may as well know all."</p> - -<p>"We must know all for your safety."</p> - -<p>"You believe I am guiltless?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Arnold slowly, "I think you are, seeing that your story is -consistent. But we'll see. I will do nothing publicly for the sake of -your wife and Laura. What did you find?"</p> - -<p>Fane took out his watch-chain and produced an old-fashioned, small -round locket of pale gold. "That was in the hand of Flora," he said. -"I expect she grasped at it when the murderer struck at her."</p> - -<p>"There was a struggle, then," said Calvert, and opened the locket. He -gave a cry: "Calvert, it's Mrs. Baldwin's face!"</p> - -<p>Tracey started also. Sure enough it was the face of Mrs. Baldwin only -much younger-looking. "I said a woman did it," murmured Tracey -heavily, "but I never thought it would be that woman. Yet she might be -the one."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XX</h4> - -<h5><a name="div1_20" href="#div1Ref_20">THE HOUSE IN THE FIELDS</a></h5> -<br> - -<p>While these events were taking place, Professor Bocaros was having -rather an unpleasant time with Emily Doon. One morning she came crying -to him, with the information that Mrs. Fane had dismissed her for her -treachery. "And it's all your fault," said Emily.</p> - -<p>"I am very sorry," began the professor.</p> - -<p>"What's the use of sorrow?" lamented Miss Doon. "Will sorrow keep -bread and butter in my mouth? I have been dismissed without a -character, and where am I to go?"</p> - -<p>"There's your sister----"</p> - -<p>"Oh, thank you, baron," flamed up the girl; "but I can arrange my own -affairs. You had no business telling Mrs. Fane. Had I known you -intended to play me so dirty a trick I should not have spoken."</p> - -<p>"It was necessary that I should do so, for my schemes."</p> - -<p>"Well, and what are your schemes coming to? Here am I without a -situation, and with hardly a penny. I shan't go to Fanny's. She would -keep me toiling and moiling in her horrid lodging-house from morning -to night. I am not used to hard work. Keep your promise and marry me."</p> - -<p>"I am only too glad to do that," said Bocaros quickly. "You know that I -love you very dearly."</p> - -<p>"You wouldn't treat me so badly if you did. What about the money?"</p> - -<p>Bocaros frowned. "I can't say yet," he said. "But get that money I -will. As to your dismissal, I shall see Mrs. Fane and put it right."</p> - -<p>"Not with her," said Emily, rising. "She's a hard one, she is, and I -shan't go back to be sneered at. Money or no money, I marry you."</p> - -<p>"But if I don't get the money," said Bocaros doubtfully.</p> - -<p>"I'll still have the title, and one can do so much with the title."</p> - -<p>"The professor seized her wrist. When you marry me you will have to -behave yourself," he said. "I am not going to give you my honoured -name for you to drag in the mud."</p> - -<p>"I'll do as I like," gasped Emily defiantly.</p> - -<p>"You will not. Become my wife if you choose, for I love you too well -to give you up, money or no money. But once you are the Baroness -Bocaros, you will be above suspicion. Play me false, soil my name, and -I'll kill you."</p> - -<p>"You look just the sort to kill a woman," said Miss Doon, wrenching -her hand away. "For all I know, you killed that cousin of yours to get -the money."</p> - -<p>The professor shook her hard. "How dare you say that!" he exclaimed -furiously. "I do not know who killed my cousin. But I more than -suspect Arnold Calvert. I spoke to your mistress. She can prove much, -and she will. The money--the money----" Bocaros convulsively opened -and shut his hand. "I must have that money."</p> - -<p>"Well," said Emily, rising to go, "you hear me. I'm going to Fanny for -a week, and I shall expect to hear from you. I'll marry you as soon as -you can get the licence, and I'll behave as I like."</p> - -<p>"No," said Bocaros savagely.</p> - -<p>"Yes," she retorted. "Don't you think I'm a fool, baron, because I'm -not. I can play my own game. If you don't marry me, I'll tell the -police what I told you."</p> - -<p>"You'll ruin your mistress if you do."</p> - -<p>"She's ruined me," retorted Miss Doon, her hand on the door, "and I -always pay my debts. I don't know what game you are playing, but, as I -say, I can play my own."</p> - -<p>Bocaros made a dash at her, but she was too quick for him. With -wonderful dexterity she whipped through the door, and was outside, -walking rapidly away, before he had time to recover from his rage. He -went back to his chair, and flung himself down with a curse. Mrs. Fane -had evidently played him false, since she had behaved so with her -maid. Bocaros had thought she was in his power, but the dismissal of -Emily showed that Mrs. Fane was quite prepared to make the matter -public. If this were the case, she might not be ready to assist him in -punishing Arnold, since she would not care to be mixed up with a -murder case. And the whole chance of getting the money out of Calvert -lay in the fact of the matter being kept quiet. From Arnold's -demeanour Bocaros did not think he was guilty, but he fancied he could -frighten him, and so gain his ends. But if Mrs. Fane made the whole -affair public, Calvert might--and probably would--face the worst. No -money would be forthcoming then. So Bocaros sat gnawing his fingers, -filled with perplexing thoughts and looking old and worn.</p> - -<p>"I'll see Jasher," he said to himself, "and tell him all. He may see a -way out of the matter. I'll write to him to come here this evening."</p> - -<p>So saying, the professor sat down and wrote a letter, which he -directed to the Private Inquiry-Office. He closed the envelope and -stamped it, and then returned to his seat. Hardly had he sat down when -a sharp knock came to the door. Glancing through the window, the -professor saw Calvert and Tracey on the step. Here was the very man he -was wishing to circumvent putting his head into the lion's mouth. But -Bocaros did not like the presence of Tracey, as the American was so -sharp. He could deal with Arnold, but Tracey was beyond him. At first -he decided to remain quiet in the hope that the two men would depart, -but his curiosity got the better of his prudence, and he opened the -door, to be met by the smile of Luther.</p> - -<p>"Well, professor, and how are you?" said Luther, stepping inside -without an invitation. "I have brought Mr. Calvert to see you. We want -to say a few words."</p> - -<p>"I am delighted to see you, Mr. Calvert," said Bocaros, very much on -his guard from this polite demeanour of Tracey. "Come in. I hope you -will excuse my humble abode. With your money, you are used to -palaces."</p> - -<p>"Only to Bloomsbury lodgings," said Arnold, taking a seat. "You forget -I have only come into my kingdom lately. By the way, was not that Mrs. -Fane's maid I saw leaving your house?"</p> - -<p>"It was. She came on an errand."</p> - -<p>"Arnold glanced curiously at the man. He did not know the truth, nor -could he guess what errand had brought Miss Doon to this lonely house. -He was seated near the window, and the professor went to get another -chair. Tracey, who was walking about, spied the letter to Jasher on -the desk. Taking it up, he looked at the address, then without a -moment's hesitation slipped it into his pocket. Arnold did not see -this proceeding, or he might have objected. But Luther had considered -the matter. He suspected Bocaros, and wondered what devilry he was up -to in corresponding with Jasher. He therefore took the letter to read -at his leisure, and should it be harmless he would send it on. But -Tracey was unscrupulous, and thinking he was dealing with a rogue, -resolved--as in the present instance--to beat him with his own -weapons. Having thus accomplished his purpose, he returned to his -seat, when Bocaros, with an extra chair, entered the room.</p> - -<p>"Well, gentlemen," said the professor when seated, "what can I do?"</p> - -<p>"That's rather a difficult question to answer, professor," said -Calvert, signing to Tracey to hold his too fluent tongue. "Mr. Tracey -and I have come to see you about this murder."</p> - -<p>"What have I to do with it?" asked Bocaros coldly.</p> - -<p>"Well, you asked me to search for the criminal, and said if I did not, -you would do so yourself. Have you?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," replied Bocaros, "I have searched with Jasher. From all I have -learned, sir--since we are to speak plainly--I think you are the -guilty person."</p> - -<p>"And if I am, professor, what will you do?"</p> - -<p>"Bocaros rose. I don't exactly know. I hate you for killing Flora, who -was a charming woman; but since you are a relative of mine----"</p> - -<p>"Only a relative by marriage," interrupted Calvert. "That hardly -counts, I think."</p> - -<p>"Still, you are a relative," persisted the professor, "so I am willing -to hush the matter up."</p> - -<p>"For money, I guess," said Tracey, who had not lost a word.</p> - -<p>"Certainly, for money," said Bocaros dryly. "The fortune of my cousin -should be mine. She changed her mind and left it to you. I claim -half."</p> - -<p>"And you will hold your tongue if I give you five thousand a year?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; I will certainly do that," said the professor, thinking he was -getting on capitally.</p> - -<p>"What about the detective?" asked Luther.</p> - -<p>"Jasher? Well, you will have to settle with him also. He will require -money also."</p> - -<p>"And if I refuse to pay you or Jasher?" asked Arnold.</p> - -<p>"I shall ask Jasher to see Inspector Derrick and tell what we know."</p> - -<p>Arnold looked curiously at Bocaros, and wondered at the hardihood of -his threat. "Merely out of curiosity, professor, I should like to know -what evidence you have against me."</p> - -<p>"That is easy," said Bocaros promptly. "You were not at the theatre -till after nine, and Flora was killed before then. The money you -wanted very badly. I heard about the stage dagger from Mrs. Fane's -maid, and I know you used it, and----"</p> - -<p>"Wait," said Arnold quickly. "All these things I can disprove by an -<i>alibi</i>. I was at my rooms till nearly half-past nine, as my landlady, -Mrs. Varney, can prove. I then went down and finished acting the part, -when Hart was unexpectedly taken ill."</p> - -<p>"But you were at the house," said Bocaros savagely. "Yes; later. But -Mrs. Brand was murdered before nine by your own showing, professor, so -you can prove nothing against me."</p> - -<p>"I can make your doings on that night public," said the other, feeling -the money slipping away from him.</p> - -<p>"Hardly, unless you want to find yourself in a very unpleasant -position, my good man."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"I mean that Mrs. Brand left a diary behind her, which was discovered -by me and Mr. Tracey. In it, she relates your visits to her--and you -paid more than two, professor."</p> - -<p>"What if I did visit her?" said Bocaros, the perspiration rising on -his forehead. "She was my cousin, and----"</p> - -<p>"And you had every right to do so. Quite so. But had you a right to -tell her about Fane?"</p> - -<p>"Fane?" stammered the Greek, completely taken aback.</p> - -<p>"Yes. You knew before July that Fane and Brand were one and the same."</p> - -<p>"I did not--I did not."</p> - -<p>"I guess you did," said Tracey; "see here, professor, what's the use -of slinging lies? I guess we've got the bulge on you this trip. Mrs. -B.'s diary gave away the whole thing, and now we have come to ask what -you were doing in the house on the night of the murder?"</p> - -<p>"Or, to put it plainly," said Arnold quietly, "why you killed Flora?"</p> - -<p>Bocaros, as Fane had done before him, leaped to his feet. "I did not -kill the woman! I swear I did not."</p> - -<p>"Fane said the same thing."</p> - -<p>"But Fane did. He was in the house."</p> - -<p>"How do you know that?" asked Luther; and Bocaros, seeing he had gone -too far, was silent. "I reckon," went on the American, "that this is -what the law calls a conspiracy. You've been building up card-castles -to get that money, and they've tumbled. Now it's our turn to threaten -to make things public, professor, and if you don't speak out you will -be arrested."</p> - -<p>"I arrested!" gasped Bocaros, stepping back a pace.</p> - -<p>"Yes--for murder," said Arnold solemnly.</p> - -<p>"I did not kill her."</p> - -<p>"We have yet to be sure that you did not. At all events, you wrote -letters to me and to Miss Mason, so that you might bring us to the -house on that night, so as to implicate us in the matter. It was very -clever, Bocaros, and, but that I overslept myself on that night, I -would have been at Ajax Villa. Then, I grant you, my position would -have been awkward, seeing I inherit the money. As it is I can prove -that I had nothing to do with the matter. If you did not kill the -woman, who did?"</p> - -<p>"Fane," said Bocaros, with dry lips. "Yes, Fane came up from Southend, -and Fane struck the blow to rid himself of an encumbrance."</p> - -<p>"He says he didn't," said Tracey; "we've put him through his paces, -and, although he's a mean white, I guess he's not a murderer. How did -you know he came up from Southend? Did you write the letter to lure -him there also?"</p> - -<p>"No; Flora wrote it herself."</p> - -<p>"Under your direction?"</p> - -<p>"I shan't say."</p> - -<p>"You'll have to say," said Arnold quickly; "we will have you arrested -otherwise. What has become of the locket Mrs. Baldwin gave you?"</p> - -<p>Bocaros looked up doggedly. "She gave me no locket."</p> - -<p>"She did," insisted Calvert. "A small round locket, with her -photograph inside. You wore it on your watch-chain; and when Flora was -struck, she turned round and tore it off in her death-agony. It was -found in her clenched hand by Fane."</p> - -<p>"I never had any locket," said Bocaros, with dry lips. "I am -innocent."</p> - -<p>"You'll find that hard to prove. However, both myself and Tracey are -willing to give you a hearing."</p> - -<p>"What will you do if I confess?"</p> - -<p>"I will send you out of the country."</p> - -<p>"I guess that's so. We don't want your sort dumped here," said Tracey.</p> - -<p>"Will you give me money, so that I may not starve?" said Bocaros, -taking no notice of this speech, and addressing himself to Arnold.</p> - -<p>"I don't think you deserve a penny, seeing how you proposed to -blackmail me. However, if you can prove your innocence, and can tell -us who is the real criminal, I will help you."</p> - -<p>"I don't know who killed Flora, unless it was Fane."</p> - -<p>"Well then, Fane didn't," said Luther sharply. "Now, fire ahead and -reel out your yarn. No lies, mind, or there'll be trouble."</p> - -<p>"Sir," said Bocaros, with a dignity which never deserted him -throughout this very trying interview, "you forget I am a nobleman."</p> - -<p>"I know. They sell your sort at a penny a bunch abroad," retorted -Tracey. "Go on. Talk away. I want to hear of this conspiracy."</p> - -<p>"There is no conspiracy," protested Bocaros. "I merely wished to get -back my own."</p> - -<p>"Ah, you look upon the ten thousand a year as your own," said Arnold; -"may I ask how you make that out?"</p> - -<p>"Flora left the money to me."</p> - -<p>"She did, and changed her mind. How did you induce her to make a will -in your favour?"</p> - -<p>"It was her own good heart."</p> - -<p>"Rubbish!" said Arnold roughly; "if you tell lies, professor, I won't -help you. Come--the truth now."</p> - -<p>Bocaros meditated. He wanted money badly, and if he went abroad--and -Calvert had the power to force him to take such a course--he would -certainly starve. The school, small as the salary was, kept him alive; -but even this slender means of subsistence would be taken from him -should he be banished from England. And by the stern faces of the two -men, he saw very well that he would be judged with justice. He -therefore made up his mind to earn the money by telling the truth. -Anything was better than starvation, even loss of dignity. But for all -that, and although he was fallen from his high estate, Bocaros kept up -a dignified appearance, and spoke in his best style.</p> - -<p>"I met my cousin, as I told you before," he said, "and I frequently -went to see her."</p> - -<p>"Why did you say you only paid three visits?" asked Calvert.</p> - -<p>"For obvious reasons," said Tracey; "he wanted to keep his cards under -the table."</p> - -<p>"I don't know what you mean," said the professor quietly; "but I admit -that I did not wish you to learn the part I had taken in this matter. -I visited my cousin frequently. I saw a portrait of her husband, and -recognised Mr. Fane."</p> - -<p>"Where did you see him?"</p> - -<p>"One day--no, on two occasions, I saw him walking with Miss Mason. I -asked who he was. She told me her brother-in-law. When I saw Fane -while calling on Mrs. Fane the other day I remembered his face again. -But for the moment I forgot where I had seen him."</p> - -<p>"Come now," cried Luther, "you couldn't forget a face like -that--especially the face of a man whom you were trying to ruin."</p> - -<p>"Bocaros put his hand to his head. My brain is not very clear at -times," he faltered. "I often think I will take leave of my senses. I -assure you, gentlemen, that I forgot where I had seen Mr. Fane when we -came face to face the other day."</p> - -<p>"Well, it doesn't matter," said Tracey, seeing that the man spoke -truly; "go on, and tell us what you did."</p> - -<p>"I said nothing to Mrs. Brand for a time, although I knew that her -husband was married to another woman. She and her husband did not get -on well together, and I did not want to make them more unhappy. Then -she inherited the money, and before that Brand went presumably to -Australia."</p> - -<p>"He was here under the name of Fane," said Arnold.</p> - -<p>"He was. I saw him at times. Well, Flora got the money. I wanted some. -She talked of making a will in her husband's favour, for she still -loved him. I then hinted that he was married. She nearly went out of -her mind. I refused to tell her the truth until she made a will in my -favour. She did. And she treated me very badly," burst out Bocaros, -warm with the memory of his wrongs; "she changed the will after she -got the truth out of me. When I heard of her death, I quite thought -the money would come to me. Instead of that----"</p> - -<p>"It was a case of the biter bit," said Arnold. "I think Flora did -quite right. You had no right to levy blackmail."</p> - -<p>"It was not blackmail," said Bocaros indignantly, and really he seemed -to believe what he said. "I made her leave the money to me, and then I -told her the truth."</p> - -<p>"The whole truth?"</p> - -<p>"Not then. I did not wish her to make trouble at once. I told her that -her husband's real name was Fane, and that he had a wife and child. -But I did not say where the house was."</p> - -<p>"Well, what happened?"</p> - -<p>"Fane came back as Brand, saying he had changed his mind about going -to Australia. I advised Flora to take an impression of his latch-key, -so that she could prove the house was Fane's, by its opening the door. -She thought this a good idea. Also, she wished to get inside to see -the White Room about which I had told her. She took the impression -when Fane was asleep. I had the keys made."</p> - -<p>"How many?" asked Arnold quickly; "one was sent to me by you."</p> - -<p>"No; I did not send that. Three keys were made. One Flora kept -herself, and two she gave me. I used one to enter the house -myself----"</p> - -<p>"Oh, you acknowledge you were in the house?"</p> - -<p>"I do. I lost the other key."</p> - -<p>"Where?" demanded Arnold, looking keenly at the man who seemed to -speak in all good faith.</p> - -<p>Bocaros again looked bewildered. "I hardly know. I left it in this -room, and I never found it again."</p> - -<p>"Did you not send the key to me?"</p> - -<p>"No; I swear I did not."</p> - -<p>"Then who did?"</p> - -<p>"I can't say. The key was left here, and lost. I used the other."</p> - -<p>"H'm!" said Arnold, after a pause. "Go on, and tell us about your -doings on that night. We can talk of the missing key later. What -happened?"</p> - -<p>"I appointed to meet Mrs. Brand in the garden. She had the key, and so -had I. She told me that she had written asking her husband to come up. -She sent the letter to Ajax Villa, and thought it would be sent on. I -was annoyed at this."</p> - -<p>"Did she tell you this when you met?"</p> - -<p>"No; because we did not meet on that night."</p> - -<p>"How was that?"</p> - -<p>"I was kept till late at the school and could not get away. It was ten -o'clock before I left, as I could not get away earlier although I -pleaded an engagement. I thought Flora would enter the house and wait. -I arrived a few minutes after ten, and saw the light burning, I then -thought she was waiting. I entered with my own key, and went upstairs -to where the light was. It was the White Room. There I saw Flora -dead--stabbed under the left shoulder-blade. On seeing this I grew -afraid, and came away at once."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" said Arnold, after another pause; "so it was you Fane heard in -the house after ten o'clock?"</p> - -<p>"I was there after ten, and I went away early at half-past."</p> - -<p>"Who was with you?" asked Tracey; "Fane said there were two men."</p> - -<p>"I was alone," said Bocaros; "there was no one with me. All happened as -I say. I grew afraid, seeing that I was Flora's cousin, and that it -was I who had brought her to the house. Also, I had got the keys for -her, and she had made a will in my favour. I fancied if I were found I -would be arrested and hanged."</p> - -<p>"There was certainly enough evidence to hang you," said Calvert. "I -also was afraid when I found the body; I fled also. We all seemed to -have lost our heads."</p> - -<p>"I don't think you did, Calvert," said Tracey, "considering the slim -way you lured that policeman away. Well, professor, did you see any -one in the house?"</p> - -<p>"Not a soul. I was there only for a quarter of an hour or so."</p> - -<p>Luther nodded. "Yes; Fane said he heard you go out. But Fane fancied -there were two men."</p> - -<p>"I was alone," said the professor positively, and the others believed -him. He had no reason to tell lies, seeing the position in which he -was placed. His only chance of safety lay in telling the truth--the -exact truth, and he appeared to be doing so.</p> - -<p>"Now then," said Calvert, when he and Tracey had digested this -information, "what about the forged letters?"</p> - -<p>"I did not write them. Why should I?"</p> - -<p>"Well, you might have made up your mind to kill Flora, and then have -arranged for me to be lured there, so that I might be accused."</p> - -<p>"But I did not kill her; and had I written the letter to lure you, I -should not have sent one to Miss Mason also. I could not accuse her."</p> - -<p>"That's true enough," said Arnold perplexed; "so the key was lost in -this room. Have you many visitors, professor?"</p> - -<p>"Very few," said Bocaros, glancing at Tracey. "You often come," this -was to the American.</p> - -<p>"I do," assented that gentleman; "are you going to accuse me of taking -the key?"</p> - -<p>"The key has gone."</p> - -<p>"That is as much as to say I took it, and killed Mrs. Brand," said the -other, with a shrug; "but who else comes? That maid?"</p> - -<p>"She only paid me a visit after the murder."</p> - -<p>"Well, she can't be guilty. Who else?"</p> - -<p>Bocaros reluctantly admitted that Mrs. Baldwin sometimes came.</p> - -<p>On hearing this, Tracey looked disturbed. "Can she have taken the -key?"</p> - -<p>"Nonsense!" said Arnold decisively--"a fat, lazy woman like that? -Besides, the person who had the key would write the letters, seeing -that the key came in one. Why should Mrs. Baldwin desire to get me and -Laura into trouble?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know," murmured Tracey anxiously, and recalling Mrs. -Baldwin's behaviour at the Hampstead cottage. "She's a queer fish. -Then that locket with her picture----"</p> - -<p>"I have seen Mrs. Baldwin with such a locket," said Bocaros.</p> - -<p>"Oh, you have." Tracey, much alarmed, looked at Calvert. "I say, you -don't think she killed Mrs. Brand?"</p> - -<p>Grave as the situation was, Calvert smiled at the idea of Mrs. -Baldwin in the character of Lady Macbeth. "I would as soon think of my -having done it myself," he declared. "There is some mystery about all -this. Can you solve it, professor?"</p> - -<p>"No," said Bocaros. "I have told you all. What will you do?"</p> - -<p>"Interview Mrs. Baldwin, and ask her about the locket," said Arnold, -rising. "By the way, I must see Jasher. He may have made some -discovery."</p> - -<p>"He will be here this evening," said Bocaros. "I have written to him."</p> - -<p>Tracey tapped his coat. "I have the letter, and will post it. In fact, -now I have his address, I will send a wire."</p> - -<p>"But how dare you take my letters?"</p> - -<p>"Go slow, professor. I'm running this show now. We'll come here to -meet Jasher this evening, and thresh out the matter. You take it lying -down, or you won't get any money. And now, Arnold Calvert, Esquire?"</p> - -<p>"We will see Mrs. Baldwin about the locket," said Arnold.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXI</h4> - -<h5><a name="div1_21" href="#div1Ref_21">THE TRUTH</a></h5> -<br> - -<p>Mrs. Baldwin had been much disturbed since the appearance of her -husband. In her secret soul she dreaded the return of the man who had -treated her so badly. All these years she had kept her fears to -herself, but sometimes she suffered agonies. For some time these had -grown less keen, as Rufus not appearing she fancied he must be dead. -But the head of Rufus had been seen at the window: she had distinctly -seen his face, and she knew she was no longer safe. He could not touch -her money which was safely tied up, nor could he deal with the land -she owned. But he had a way of terrorising her which would make her -give him whatever he wanted. He would spend the money, treat his -children badly, leave her next door to a pauper, and on the whole make -things as unpleasant as he knew how.</p> - -<p>There is nothing makes a man bolder than fear. This is paradoxical but -true. Under the influence of supreme fear, the most cowardly person -will become brave to rid himself of the cause of terror. Balzac -acutely observes that "The rebellion of a sheep is terrible," and in -this way Mrs. Baldwin felt. She was a timid woman in reality and had -given in to the will of the brute she had unfortunately married. When -he went away--not being able to get more money out of her--she -breathed freely. But now that there was a chance of his coming into -her life again, Mrs. Baldwin felt all her old terrors revive. But she -determined if he did come she would kill him. To this extent had her -fear driven her. She was scared to death, and therefore was the more -dangerous.</p> - -<p>Had she been wise, she would have seen her lawyers and told them -everything. As Rufus had deserted her for so many years, the law would -put things right for her. As he had treated her with brutality her -evidence would enable the law to arrange matters so that she would no -longer live in a state of terrorism. She could get a separation, even -a divorce. But Mrs. Baldwin was not wise. She was a slow-thinking -woman, and the mere presence of the man terrified. If he came to rule -her again, she would not have the will to go to her lawyers and tell -the truth. She therefore took matters into her own hands and bought a -pistol which she kept under her bed-pillow in the night and under the -sofa-pillow in the day. She made up her mind that if he came secretly -to the house, as he had done, and would likely do again, she would -shoot him. She would give the man no chance of exerting his influence -over her. But of all this she said nothing, not even to Gerty, who -could not understand why her mother grew thinner and more silent. -Instead of reading and eating Turkish-delight as usual, Mrs. Baldwin -wandered about the house feeling every now and then for the weapon in -her pocket which she always took when she left the sofa.</p> - -<p>"I'm all right, dear," said Mrs. Baldwin fretfully when Gerty made -remarks; "I have a little worry, but it will pass away."</p> - -<p>Things were in this state when Tracey arrived in the company of -Arnold. The two entered the room, being introduced by one of the -twins. Gerty was away teaching an old gentleman to manage a motor-car, -and Mrs. Baldwin was alone. As usual she was lying on the sofa, but no -longer reading or eating sweets. She lay there a shapeless mass in her -tawdry tea-gown staring at the roof. When Tracey entered she started -and thrust her hand under the pillow. But when she saw it was merely -her future son-in-law she sank back with a smile. However, the sudden -start made her face white, and Tracey noted it.</p> - -<p>"You haven't been troubled by Rufus, have you?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"No," said Mrs. Baldwin, with a faint smile, "he has never been near -me since. When he does come," her eyes gleamed, "I am ready for him--I -am no longer the timid weak woman I was. How are you, Mr. Calvert?"</p> - -<p>"Very well, Mrs. Baldwin. You do not look well."</p> - -<p>"I have trouble. We all have our troubles."</p> - -<p>"Say," observed Tracey, "I've brought Calvert here to ask a question -about a piece of jewellery of yours."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Baldwin sat up. "My diamond necklace," she cried, "where is it?"</p> - -<p>Arnold looked puzzled and Tracey held his tongue. "I know nothing -about a diamond necklace," said Calvert; "this is what I wish you to -see----" As he spoke he extended his hand in the palm of which lay the -round locket of pale gold which Fane had produced. Arnold did not get -a chance of finishing his sentence, for the moment Mrs. Baldwin set -eyes on the unpretending piece of jewellery she gave a loud cry, -opened her eyes, and sitting up grasped Calvert by the arm:</p> - -<p>"Where is he?" she asked; "is he outside? If he is----" she released -Arnold and pulled out the pistol.</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?" asked Calvert, drawing back.</p> - -<p>"I guess I know," said Tracey, recalling the previous interview; "this -locket belongs to Rufus."</p> - -<p>"Yes it does," admitted Mrs. Baldwin, casting apprehensive glances at -the door and window, and still grasping the pistol; "where is he?"</p> - -<p>"Not here," said Tracey, and strove to take the pistol away. But Mrs. -Baldwin resisted.</p> - -<p>"He will come," she said, "and I must be ready," and with that she -replaced the pistol under the pillow.</p> - -<p>"What does she mean?" asked Calvert in a whisper.</p> - -<p>"Never mind," returned the American much discomposed, "ask her about -the locket. She's queer, that's all."</p> - -<p>"The locket--the locket," murmured Mrs. Baldwin, beginning to weep; "I -gave it to Rufus when I thought he wasn't a brute. My portrait is in -it. I was a young girl----"</p> - -<p>"Will you look at it?" said Calvert, passing the locket.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Baldwin shrank back as though she had been asked to handle a -snake. "No, I dare not. He has worn it. Did he give it to you; or," -she asked vindictively, "was it taken from his dead body?"</p> - -<p>"It was taken from a dead hand."</p> - -<p>"From the hand of Rufus. Is he dead? Am I free? Oh, great heavens, am -I free?" and Mrs. Baldwin clapped her hands hysterically.</p> - -<p>"No. It was taken from the hands of the woman who was killed at Ajax -Villa. Evidently the man who wore it----"</p> - -<p>"Rufus," whispered Mrs. Baldwin----</p> - -<p>"Had a struggle with his victim. She might have seen the blow coming, -and putting out her hand to ward it off, must have clutched the locket -as it hung to the watch-chain."</p> - -<p>"Rufus wore it on his watch-chain," said Mrs. Baldwin; "it is his -locket. I gave it to him. He is a burglar. Now he is a murderer. He -will come and kill me. Where's the pistol?" and she fumbled under the -sofa-pillow, grey with fear.</p> - -<p>"We don't know that he's a murderer yet," said Tracey soothingly; "you -go slow, ma'am."</p> - -<p>"I tell you if that locket was found in the dead woman's hand, Rufus -killed her," said Mrs. Baldwin, crushing her hands together.</p> - -<p>"What is Rufus like in looks?" asked Tracey.</p> - -<p>"Fat and red-faced, with grey hair. Always smiling--always smiling--a -kind-looking man--with a black heart. A criminal--a brute, a----"</p> - -<p>"Tracey," interrupted Arnold, rising, "she is describing Jasher."</p> - -<p>"That's so," said the American, without surprise; "ever since Bocaros -confessed that Jasher was his friend I have suspected. Well, now we -know at last who killed Mrs. Brand."</p> - -<p>"Another woman--another woman," moaned Mrs. Baldwin, "another victim."</p> - -<p>"It will be his last," said Tracey grimly; "thank God he's not Gerty's -poppa. I'm sorry for the children, though."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Baldwin rose. "They must never know--never!"</p> - -<p>"If Jasher, or Rufus as you call him, is caught he'll speak out, and -the whole business will come to light," said Tracey.</p> - -<p>"I don't know about that," said Arnold, with a troubled look; "let us -see what we can do. Perhaps Jasher may be innocent."</p> - -<p>"If there was murder to be done he did it," said Mrs. Baldwin, in a -sharp manner; "do what you like, but keep the man out of my life. I'm -dangerous. Quite as dangerous as he is."</p> - -<p>"It's all right. You say nothing," said Tracey, and thereupon made -Mrs. Baldwin lie down. Then he sent Arnold to wait for him outside, -and soothed the woman. When he came out, he walked in silence to the -gate. "I've mailed that letter," he said, "and sent a wire also. You -bet Jasher, not suspecting anything wrong, will be at the little house -yonder to-night."</p> - -<p>"Will we get in the police?"</p> - -<p>"Not just yet," said Tracey hesitatingly; "you see, he's Gerty's -step-father after all. I guess we'll make him confess, and then chuck -him out of the country. I don't want him to be arrested."</p> - -<p>"We can't be sure of his guilt yet, either."</p> - -<p>"No. That's a fact. Bocaros is keeping something back."</p> - -<p>"What about Mrs. Baldwin?"</p> - -<p>"She's all right. I've got her quiet. So long as this man doesn't -cross her track she'll lie still. If he does----"</p> - -<p>"Well. What if he does?"</p> - -<p>"She'll drop him with that pistol of hers."</p> - -<p>"Nonsense. She can't shoot!"</p> - -<p>"She'll get the bullet into the heart of Jasher somehow, if he is her -husband, as seems likely. The woman is mad with fear, and she'll get -him out of her life somehow. I say, Calvert, don't say anything to any -one of the rubbish she talks."</p> - -<p>"No I won't--not if she shoots Jasher. And if he's the murderer, it -would be about the best thing that could happen. For the sake of Mrs. -Fane and the child, for Laura's sake, I want things hushed up."</p> - -<p>"Same here," assented Tracey, "for the sake of Gerty and the kids. And -for Momma Baldwin's sake also," he added; "I'm real sorry for her. -She's a good sort, and will sleep better when Jasher's caught."</p> - -<p>"But, I say, Tracey, why should Jasher have killed Flora Brand?"</p> - -<p>"Can't say, unless it has to do with the money. But you go slow, we'll -get at the truth this night."</p> - -<p>Nothing more was said at the time, and with Luther, Calvert drove back -to town. The play had ceased to run, so his evenings were now his own. -He and the American had a meal in a Soho restaurant, but neither ate -very much. When the meal was ended Tracey proposed to start for the -professor's house at once. But Arnold, calling a cab, first drove to -his lodgings. When there he produced two Derringers, and giving one to -Tracey, put the other into his pocket.</p> - -<p>"But what's this for?" asked Tracey.</p> - -<p>"I think there's going to be a row," said Arnold, leading the way -downstairs. "Jasher will show fight if he is the villain Mrs. Baldwin -makes him out to be. Then there's Bocaros. I do not trust Bocaros."</p> - -<p>"Oh, he's all right," said Luther, as they entered a hansom; "he's on -the money tack, and so long as you give him the dollars he'll make it -hot for Jasher."</p> - -<p>"Do you think Bocaros knows the truth?"</p> - -<p>"I'm sure of it. He only told so much as he was obliged to this -afternoon. A deep cuss is the professor. I say, it's raining!"</p> - -<p>"Worse," said Arnold, drawing up the collar of his coat, "a mist is -coming on. We'll get lost in those fields."</p> - -<p>"Don't mind, so long as Jasher don't get lost."</p> - -<p>The cab drove on. The fog was not very thick in town, but as they -neared Troy it became more dense. By the time they turned down -Achilles Avenue a dense white pall lay over the earth, and the air was -as cold as a December day. The cabman professed his inability to drive -them further. On hearing this Tracey hopped out, followed by Calvert. -"It's just as well," said the latter; "we don't want to make the thing -too public."</p> - -<p>He paid the cabman lavishly, and then the two men set off down the -side-road which ran through the ancient village of Cloverhead. They -passed along the lane which led to the stile on the verge of the -fields, and at the back of the manor saw a light on the ground floor. -"Mrs. Baldwin's bedroom," said Tracey as they jumped the stile; "she's -in bed early--it's just eight o'clock. I guess her nerves have given -way."</p> - -<p>"I wonder she isn't afraid to sleep on the ground floor," said Arnold.</p> - -<p>"Oh, she's only lost her nerve lately. She didn't mind before. I guess -she'll change her bedroom soon and get up to the garret. Say, what a -fog."</p> - -<p>It was indeed a thick white fog, and to make things more uncomfortable -it was raining steadily. The low-lying meadows underfoot were slushy, -muddy, and slippery. The two men toiled through the dense curtain of -mist more by instinct than by sight. Tracey knew the path to the -little house well, as he had often passed over the fields to see -Bocaros. By the feel of their boots they managed to keep to the -somewhat irregular path which ran from the stile, and so by devious -ways they succeeded in making their way across the waste. At last they -came to gorse bushes looming out of the fog, and beyond this was a dim -yellow light.</p> - -<p>"I guess the professor hasn't disappointed us," said Tracey, as they -felt their way to the door; "he's in there."</p> - -<p>"Alone, probably," said Calvert.</p> - -<p>Tracey shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe. It's not the night to tempt a -cat out let alone a comfortable scoundrel like Jasher, who hates, I -bet, to get his feet wet. But the business is urgent, else Bocaros -would not send for him, so fog or no fog, he's there."</p> - -<p>"But Tracey was wrong. When they entered the warm study and took off -their coats they formed a trio with the professor. He explained that -Jasher had not arrived. Then they sat down and talked over the matter. -The Greek had by this time turned King's evidence to save his own -skin, and to get money out of Calvert.</p> - -<p>"But you didn't tell us everything this afternoon?" said Arnold.</p> - -<p>"What else there is to be told will be explained when Jasher is here," -replied the Greek grimly; "it won't be pleasant for him."</p> - -<p>"Guess there's no honour amongst thieves," muttered Tracey, toasting -his steaming feet. "Say, professor," he added aloud, "why do you call -that low-down cuss Jasher?"</p> - -<p>"Has he another name?" asked Bocaros.</p> - -<p>"He's bad enough to have a dozen names," growled Tracey, who did not -intend to give away Mrs. Baldwin's secret, for Bocaros was just the -man to make capital out of it. He had only made a tentative attempt to -see if Bocaros knew anything of the matter. Apparently he did not, and -to him Jasher was simply the private inquiry-agent he represented -himself to be.</p> - -<p>While they were thus talking a soft knock came to the window. The -Greek put his finger to his lips and nodded silently. Evidently this -was Jasher's private signal. When Bocaros left the room to admit his -confederate--for Jasher was nothing more and nothing less--the young -men felt for their revolvers. It was not likely that Jasher would give -in without a struggle, and a show of force might be necessary. -Arnold's heart thrilled at the coming fight, and Tracey's eyes -glittered. "It might be a clearing out West," he whispered Calvert, -"with judge Lynch holding his court."</p> - -<p>Jasher, round and ruddy and as complacent as ever, entered in the -wake of Bocaros. He had no idea that the Greek had betrayed him, for -he shook hands--he insisted on shaking hands--with much gusto. "I am -glad you are here, Mr. Calvert," said he, sitting down. "I have much -to say. But what brings you to this quarter?"</p> - -<p>"We have made a few discoveries ourselves," said Calvert, "and we came -to talk them over with the professor."</p> - -<p>"Why, the professor knows nothing," said Jasher, still quite -unsuspicious. "Let me hear what you have found out."</p> - -<p>"On the contrary, I should like to hear of your discoveries."</p> - -<p>"Well," said Jasher, gazing into the fire, "it seems to me that Fane -committed the crime. He came up from Southend, and he was at the villa -on that night. I've an idea he knew this woman."</p> - -<p>"What was she to him?" asked Arnold calmly.</p> - -<p>"I have heard it said she was his wife."</p> - -<p>"Why don't you say straight out what you know?" broke in Tracey; "I -guess you knew the truth from Bocaros."</p> - -<p>"Bocaros!" Jasher, with sudden suspicion, leaped to his feet, and his -little eyes glittered. "What's that?"</p> - -<p>"This much," said the Greek, also rising, "I have told these gentlemen -all I know. Ah----"</p> - -<p>"No you don't," said Tracey, catching Jasher as he hurled himself -forward. "Go slow."</p> - -<p>Jasher tried to recover his calm. "This is some joke, gentlemen," he -said, wiping his face and looking at the watchful faces before him. -"What does Professor Bocaros know?"</p> - -<p>"He knows," said the Greek, keeping well behind Calvert, "that it was -you who suggested the idea of getting Mrs. Brand to make the will in -my favour. It was you who put me up to getting the key stolen and -duplicated. It was you who wrote those letters luring Mr. Calvert and -Miss Mason to the villa so that you might put the blame on them. I -never knew you meant murder, Jasher," said Bocaros, stepping forward, -"or I should not have joined with you."</p> - -<p>"This is all lies," said Jasher faintly.</p> - -<p>"It is true. And it was arranged when we found that the woman was dead -that I should engage you as a detective so that you might be able to -manipulate the case at your will. Owing to the change which Mrs. Brand -made in her will, Calvert stood in my way and in yours. It was then -that you proposed to fix the guilt of the murder on him."</p> - -<p>"And had I not overslept myself," said Calvert, his eyes on Jasher, "I -should have fallen into your trap."</p> - -<p>"Let me out of this," said the detected scoundrel, and made a dash for -the door. He was met by Tracey, revolver in hand. With an oath he -slipped round his hand for his own weapon.</p> - -<p>"Hold up your hands or I shoot!" said the Yankee. "Now get back to -your seat and tell the truth if it's in you."</p> - -<p>Sullenly and with all his surface good-nature gone, Jasher, with his -hands held over his head, sat down. "It's a lie--a lie!" he said -vehemently, finding his voice in the extremity of his danger. "Bocaros -lured the woman to the villa. I came later--a few minutes after ten. I -was admitted by him."</p> - -<p>"That's a lie!" said Bocaros. "You told me you let yourself in with the -key of Mrs. Brand."</p> - -<p>"I didn't. I was not at the villa till after ten--the woman was killed -before. I found you standing by the dead body. You killed her."</p> - -<p>"I did not. From the fact that you had the key to enter, I guessed you -must have seen Mrs. Brand earlier. You met her, I swear--not I. It was -you who stabbed her, and with the dagger which she brought with her to -threaten Fane. You arranged all these plans so that you could lay the -blame on others. If I did not pay up, you arranged--as you told me--to -hunt me down in your character of detective. It was you who killed the -woman to get control of the money."</p> - -<p>Jasher had kept his eyes steadily on the face of the professor. When -the man finished, he flung up his hands with a wild cry and pointed to -the window. "Look! Look! A face!" he shrieked.</p> - -<p>The others involuntarily turned. In a moment Jasher whipped out his -revolver and dashed out of the door. As he passed Bocaros he fired, -and the Greek fell to the floor. "Judas! Judas!" cried the other man, -and fled into the darkness.</p> - -<p>Calvert remained behind to attend to the wounded man, but Tracey, -whose blood was up because of the stratagem of which he had been the -victim, dashed after Jasher, revolver in hand. He plunged into the -cold mist, running wildly. His foot caught in the stump of a tree, and -he fell at full length. In the blinding fog it was useless to attempt -pursuit, but Jasher, without coat and hat, could not run far without -being questioned by a policeman. The recent crime in Troy had made the -police wary, and Jasher would certainly be detained. With this idea, -Tracey rose and limped back to the house.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Jasher, who knew the ground well, turned to the left and ran -across the meadow. He slipped his weapon into his pocket, and raced -hard through the mist. By chance he came against the fence at the back -of the manor-house, and saw above the yellow light of Mrs. Baldwin's -bedroom. Jasher knew that she slept there, as for reasons of his own -he had made himself acquainted with all that went on in the house. He -had heard that his wife was rich because of the rise of land, and had -intended to come back with an apology for having taken the diamond -necklace. But the chance offered by the murder of Mrs. Brand to get a -large sum of money out of Bocaros proved too tempting, and thus Jasher -had remained away. Now that he was a fugitive and with--so far as he -knew--Calvert and Tracey on his track, he thought he would take refuge -with the wife he had treated so badly. He also knew that without hat -and coat he would be stopped by the police, and when he dashed out of -the professor's house it was his intention to make for the abode of -his wife.</p> - -<p>After listening intently and hearing nothing but the steady rain, -Jasher, cursing his bad luck, climbed over the fence. He walked up the -lawn and mounted the terrace which ran before the windows of Mrs. -Baldwin's bedroom. At the middle window he knocked softly. He heard a -cry within, and applying his eyes to a hole in the blind, he saw that -his wife was alone, reading in bed. She had half-started up, and had -her hand under the pillow.</p> - -<p>"Who is there?" asked Mrs. Baldwin sharply.</p> - -<p>"Maria. It's me--Rufus. Let me in. I am in danger!"</p> - -<p>"Never! Never! Go away, or I'll alarm the house."</p> - -<p>"Jasher pleaded, and swore, and did all he knew to make her alter her -decision. But she would not. He was drenched by the rain, shivering, -and hatless. The bloodhounds were on his track. He lost his head, and -with a furious oath dashed his whole weight against the window. The -frail structure broke inward, and, half blinded, he burst through the -curtain. As in a dream he saw his wife wild with terror start from the -bed. She raised her hand, and the next moment there came a stunning -report. With a yell Jasher threw up his hands and fell. Mrs. Baldwin's -shrieks aroused her daughter, the children, and the servants. They -rushed into the room, and found the dead man and the frantic woman.</p> - -<p>"A burglar--a burglar cried Mrs. Baldwin. I've killed him." Then she -threw up her hands wildly. "Out of my life at last--out of my life!"</p> - -<p>The next moment she was lying senseless by the side of the husband she -had shot.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXII</h4> - -<h5><a name="div1_22" href="#div1Ref_22">THE WIND-UP</a></h5> -<br> - -<p>So this was the end of the case which so perplexed London and London's -police. But neither the police nor the public came to know the truth, -as will appear from a conversation held between Laura and her lover a -fortnight after the death of Jasher. As they were to be married, and -there were to be no secrets between them, Arnold told her the whole -truth, suppressing nothing. Laura wept.</p> - -<p>"O Arnold, how terrible it is for Julia! What will she do?"</p> - -<p>"She has already made up her mind what to do, and I think she has -taken the wisest course."</p> - -<p>"What is that?"</p> - -<p>"She will marry Walter Fane quietly and go abroad for a time. Then no -one will ever know the truth."</p> - -<p>"But it might come out in other ways."</p> - -<p>"No. I have taken care of that. Derrick, as you know, gave up the case -some weeks ago, as he could discover nothing. The only thing he is -doing now is watching the Hampstead house for the return of the dead -woman's husband. Of course your brother-in-law will never return -there, and so Derrick will grow weary."</p> - -<p>"But did not Jasher confess when he died?"</p> - -<p>"Only to me and Tracey, dear. When Mrs. Baldwin shot him under the -impression that he was a burglar, he did not die immediately. He was -taken to the hospital, but died a few days later. In the interval he -sent for me and Tracey, and knowing everything was ended for him, he -confessed."</p> - -<p>"Did he exonerate the professor?"</p> - -<p>"Arnold did not reply immediately to the question. He was thinking -what he should say. Finally he resolved to tell the truth.</p> - -<p>"The best thing, Laura, is to say what Jasher told us. We wrote it -down, and he signed it in our presence lest any one else should be -accused of the crime. I don't think any one will be, as the murder has -been relegated to obscurity. Still, it is best to be on the safe side. -I have the confession here. I will read it to you."</p> - -<p>Laura assenting eagerly, Arnold took a sheet or two of foolscap from -his pocket and read the confession. It ran as follows:--</p> - -<p>"I, Rufus Baldwin, better known as John Jasher, Private Inquiry-Agent, -swear as follows, and take my dying oath that what is here set down is -true.</p> - -<p>"I met Professor Bocaros when I was haunting the place where my wife -lived. I got into his confidence, and used to come to his place and -talk to him. He never knew that I was Mrs. Baldwin's husband, as I did -not think it was necessary to trust him so far. He told me of his -difficulties, and of Mrs. Brand getting the fortune. One night he told -me how he had discovered that Brand and Fane were the same. I saw a -chance of making money. I told him to hint to Mrs. Brand that her -husband was deceiving her, and said that if we could bring them -together in Ajax Villa, we could make money out of the affair. Bocaros -never thought that murder was intended. He merely fancied that I would -come to the villa when the two were together and swear to expose the -matter to Mrs. Fane and have Fane prosecuted for bigamy if Mrs. Brand -did not pay a large sum. He therefore agreed to my plan.</p> - -<p>"Now, my idea was to get Mrs. Brand to make a will in favour of the -professor and then murder her, so that I might share the money with -him. Also to inveigle him to the villa, so that there might be a -chance through circumstantial evidence of proving him to be the guilty -person. In order to make things safe for myself in case there should -be trouble, I arranged in my own mind that Arnold Calvert, a cousin of -Mrs. Brand, and Miss Mason, the girl he was engaged to, should be at -the villa. Then, of course, Fane would be there. So I resolved that if -necessary the crime should be fixed on Mr. Calvert, on Fane, and on -Bocaros. Afterwards, had I thought fit, I could have brought home the -crime to Mrs. Fane in my character of detective. I was anxious to make -a lot of money and to return to the United States, the only place -worth living in, to my mind.</p> - -<p>"Bocaros, thinking I meant to act straight, did what I told him. He -got Mrs. Brand to take an impression of the latch-key belonging to -Fane when--as Brand--he slept in the Hampstead house. She did so, and -I got Bocaros to have three keys made--one for himself, one for Mrs. -Brand, and one extra. He gave one duplicate key to Mrs. Brand, and -kept the other. The third key he left in his room. One day I stole it, -and then when he asked denied that I had done so. This key I sent to -Calvert in the name of Miss Mason, and asked him to be at the villa at -half-past nine or thereabouts. I also sent a letter purporting to be -from Calvert to Miss Mason, asking her to be at the house at the same -hour. Then I got Bocaros to tell Mrs. Brand to write to her husband -asking him to come to Ajax Villa on the night of the twenty-fourth of -July. My plans were thus arranged to trap the lot, and I could have -added Mrs. Fane, as I found she followed her husband to town on that -same night. Had she not lost him at Liverpool Street Station, she -would have also been implicated in the matter.</p> - -<p>"All being thus arranged, I called for Mrs. Brand on the night in -question, and took her to the villa. Bocaros was to have met us, but -he, being detained at his school, was late. I entered into the villa -with Mrs. Brand, using the latch-key. No one saw us. We went to the -White Room, and I told her of her husband's villainy. I may here -mention that it was the professor who introduced me to Mrs. Brand as -the man who knew all about the matter. He did this at my request. I -had to manage the matter myself, as I intended murder, and the -professor was too squeamish.</p> - -<p>"I was in the White Room with Mrs. Brand. She was much disturbed over -the matter. Drawing a dagger she had in her pocket, she declared she -would kill Fane. I suppose she indulged in this theatrical attitude -because she was half a Greek and excitable. The dagger, as she said, -was one which had been bought by Mr. Calvert for stage purposes. He -left it in her house by mistake. I managed to calm Mrs. Brand, and -took the dagger from her. She sat at the piano. I came behind her, and -lifted my arm to strike. As the stiletto struck her she gave a cry and -turned desperately on me. She clutched at my watch-chain and tore -therefrom a locket I wore, which contained a portrait of my wife. I -did not discover my loss till afterwards. Then she died. I left her -there and went away. Afterwards Fane came and found her dead. He -concealed the dagger in the dustbin. While doing this Miss Mason came -to the door. Finding that Mr. Calvert was not there she went away. -Then the professor, being late, came. I had taken the key from the -body of the dead woman, and entered after him. There was no one -about. I went upstairs and found Bocaros looking at the dead. I -accused him of the deed. He denied it, and indeed was innocent. -However, it suited my purpose to accuse him, as it gave me more power. -I led him away. Afterwards Calvert came and went away, afraid lest he -should be accused. Fane finally escaped by using Tracey's motor-car. -So all were out of the house when the body was discovered by Mulligan.</p> - -<p>"These are the true facts of the case. Afterwards Bocaros, on his way -to see about the will, came to my office and engaged me to look after -the case. He did this at my desire, so that I could turn the evidence -as I chose. Then Bocaros found that Mrs. Brand had cheated him, and -had given the money to Calvert. Why she did so I do not know, unless -it was that she liked Calvert the best. However, the money being gone, -I wanted to get it. I therefore arranged that the blame of the crime -should fall on Calvert. He, quite unsuspicious of my ends, engaged me -to hunt down the assassin. I was hunting down him. Had he not -overslept himself he would have been at the villa at the time of the -commission of the crime, and I would have caught him in my net. Then I -would have made a lot of money.</p> - -<p>"As it was, Tracey's discovery of the diary led to the detection of -Fane, and Fane's confession led to the production of the locket which -Mrs. Brand held in her dead hand. Then Bocaros grew frightened and -told the truth. The result was that I was in danger of arrest, and, -with the locket, the crime would most certainly have been brought home -to me.</p> - -<p>"I sought shelter with my wife, but she shot me. She said she thought -I was a burglar. I suppose she did, and----"</p> - -<p>Here Laura interrupted the reading. "Surely Mrs. Baldwin did think he -was a burglar," she said indignantly.</p> - -<p>"Of course," said Arnold quickly; "for certain she did, Laura. Had she -known he was her husband, little as she loved him, she would not have -fired the shot. And you remember the jury brought in a verdict -exonerating Mrs. Baldwin."</p> - -<p>"I'm glad of that," said Laura thoughtfully. "Read on, dear."</p> - -<p>"There's no more," said Arnold, returning the confession to his -pocket. "I shall put this in the deed-box at Laing and Merry's, to be -used should occasion arise, though I don't think it ever will. So that -ends the whole matter. We can get married as soon as possible, Laura, -and thank heaven our troubles are over."</p> - -<p>While Laura and Arnold were thus talking in one room, Mrs. Fane was -having a conversation with her husband in another. Walter Fane, bowed -with shame, was half lying on the sofa, and Mrs. Fane was pacing the -room. He had just confessed all, and his wife's cheeks were crimson -with anger.</p> - -<p>"O you coward--you mean, pitiful coward!" she said fiercely, "how dare -you marry me, to bring me to this shame! I thought you were only a -fool. But you are a knave and worse than a knave. That poor creature's -death lies at your door."</p> - -<p>"I did not kill her," moaned Fane, burying his face in the cushions.</p> - -<p>"Not in fact, but otherwise you did. Had you not led this double life -the tragedy would never have happened."</p> - -<p>"Well, it has happened and everything's at an end," said Fane, sitting -up sullenly. "Calvert has stifled all inquiry. Nothing will ever be -known, unless you give the thing away."</p> - -<p>"What do you take me for?" cried Mrs. Fane, turning on him. "Do you -think I am going to pose as a disgraced woman with your friends and -mine? I made you confess something of this when you came back to -Southend. I shielded you in my interview with Bocaros, so that you -should not be suspected. But I never thought Mrs. Brand was your -wife--you liar!"</p> - -<p>"What's the use of calling names?" said Fane, still sulky.</p> - -<p>"None--none. I have a good mind to leave you for good and all."</p> - -<p>"Why don't you, then?"</p> - -<p>"Because, after all, you are my child's father. Besides, you are a -poor miserable creature, who can't look after yourself. I shall still -continue to be your wife. We must be married again quietly and go -abroad for a time, as was our original intention. Then we will come -back, and I shall get a farm down the country near London, so that I -can come up to look after the business. After this I shall manage the -whole business myself You will be a cipher."</p> - -<p>"I always have been," muttered Walter.</p> - -<p>"Well, that is arranged, so we need say nothing more about the matter. -Let us be friends. I don't love you--I can't respect you; but for the -child's sake let us be friends."</p> - -<p>"You'll only bully me," said Walter hopelessly. "No," said Mrs. Fane, -in a softer voice. "You poor creature, God forbid I should be hard on -you. I am a strong-minded woman, but I am not a tyrant. I will look -after you, since you are so weak, and do my best."</p> - -<p>"Thank you," said Walter, "you are very good." And he meant what he -said, for the woman's superior will and mind enforced respect.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Fane looked at him in silence; then--a rare thing with her--she -moved towards him and kissed him. "Let us talk no more about the -matter," she said. "The old life is ended--the new has begun. Let us -talk of other things."</p> - -<p>"The marriage of Calvert, for instance."</p> - -<p>"I owe Mr. Calvert an apology," said Mrs. Fane slowly. "I did not like -him, but he has behaved nobly. But for his discretion the whole affair -might have come out in the papers, to my lasting disgrace. I give my -consent to the marriage with all my heart, and I hope that Laura will -prove herself worthy of such a good man."</p> - -<p>So things were arranged in this quarter, and Walter Fane got off much -easier than he deserved, considering his behaviour. Mrs. Fane told -Arnold of her intentions, and then thanked him for his kindness. After -Laura's marriage, which took place in a couple of months, they became -the best of friends.</p> - -<p>And it was at the marriage that Mrs. Tracey appeared so beautiful in -the character of a bride.</p> - -<p>"She's a clipper, is Gerty T.," said the happy bridegroom. "I'm going -to take her to the States to show what a beauty she is. The business -is humming and the money pouring in, so off we go to the U.S.A."</p> - -<p>"I wish you joy with all my heart, Laura," said Gerty, embracing the -bride. "And Arnold's such a nice fellow, and you are so rich."</p> - -<p>"Yes, we are. We intend to take a place in the country, and be quiet -people. Arnold and I like a rural life."</p> - -<p>"I hear Mrs. and Mr. Fane have gone abroad."</p> - -<p>"Yes. They will be back in a few months, and then they will take a -place down the country also."</p> - -<p>"I suppose they couldn't stand the villa, after the tragedy?"</p> - -<p>"Who could? Since they left it no one has taken it, and the landlord -intends to pull it down to exorcise the ghost. How is your mother, -Gerty dear?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, she's happier than ever she has been. She seems to have grown -younger since she shot the burglar."</p> - -<p>And then the two brides went on to talk of other things. Meantime, -Luther Tracey drew aside Calvert into a corner. "Say," was his remark, -"I haven't seen you for a time since I've been away on my honeymoon. -What of the professor?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, he has gone back to Greece, quite recovered from his wound. I -allow him an income sufficient to keep him alive."</p> - -<p>"He shouldn't have had anything. You're too good."</p> - -<p>"He did act badly; but, after all, I don't think the poor creature is -quite sane. He is married also--yes--Mrs. Fane's maid, Emily Doon."</p> - -<p>"Hum!" said the American. "I guess he was sane enough to get a -handsome bride, though. I never trusted that girl. She had something -to do with the case."</p> - -<p>"Don't talk of the case," said Arnold, shuddering. "When I think how -near we all were getting into the most terrible trouble through that -scoundrel----No, he's dead, let us not call him names. His evil is -buried with him. But one thing, Tracey. Did Mrs. Baldwin really know -it was her husband she killed? I know she recognised him afterwards; -but when she fired did she know?"</p> - -<p>"Rufus said she did, but out of consideration for the children he had -the decency not to put that into the confession. I believe she knew -all the time, and is glad she killed him."</p> - -<p>"Does she ever allude to him?"</p> - -<p>"No. She's settled down to her old lazy life, eating sweets and -reading novels. I don't think she'll ever mention his name till her -dying day. And Gerty T. knows nothing about it. I hear Mrs. Baldwin's -going to sell her land and move further into town; but she never will. -When Gerty T. and I return from the States we'll find her in the old -shanty. By the way, she's pulled down the professor's house."</p> - -<p>"To get rid of all memories connected with the case, I suppose. Well, -I'm glad it's ended. It was terrible."</p> - -<p>"Arnold, are you coming?"</p> - -<p>This was from the bride. Afterwards the happy pair departed for a -honeymoon on the Continent, and discussed their future plans. "You -must let me furnish the house, dear," said Laura; "I have such taste."</p> - -<p>"You have; you chose me to be your husband. But don't have a White -Room."</p> - -<p>"I never will," said Laura. "Arnold, never mention that place again."</p> - -<p>And Arnold never did. So after all the trouble came the peace and -calm, and the two, happy in one another, soon forgot the terrible -case. The public also forgot it, and the White Room itself has -disappeared.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>THE END.</h4> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<hr class="W90"> -<p class="center">Printed by T. and A. Constable, Printers to His Majesty<br> -at the Edinburgh University Press</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The White Room, by Fergus Hume - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WHITE ROOM *** - -***** This file should be named 55101-h.htm or 55101-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/1/0/55101/ - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page images provided by -Google Books (The Pennsylvania State University Libraries) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The White Room - -Author: Fergus Hume - -Release Date: July 12, 2017 [EBook #55101] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WHITE ROOM *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page images provided by -Google Books (The Pennsylvania State University Libraries) - - - - - - - - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - - 1. Page Scan Source: Google Books - https://books.google.com/books/about/ - The_White_Room.html?id=QN9PnQEACAAJ - (The Pennsylvania State University Libraries) - - - - - - -Bell's Indian and Colonial Library ----------------------------------- - - - - - -THE WHITE ROOM - - - - - - -THE WHITE ROOM - - - -BY -FERGUS HUME - -AUTHOR of "THE MYSTERY OF A HANSOM CAB," "THE PICCADILLY PUZZLE," - -"WHOM GOD HATH JOINED," "THE VANISHING OF TERA," - -"THE GUILTY HOUSE," ETC. ETC. ETC. - - - - -LONDON -GEORGE BELL & SONS -1904 - - - - - - -_This Edition is issued for circulation in India and the Colonies -only_. - - - - - - -CONTENTS - -CHAP. - -I. THE POLICEMAN'S DISCOVERY - -II. ANOTHER MYSTERY - -III. THE BALDWINS - -IV. THE MISSING MOTOR-CAR - -V. PUBLIC OPINION - -VI. A STRANGE DISCOVERY - -VII. THE OTHER WHITE ROOM - -VIII. PROFESSOR BOCAROS - -IX. MRS. BRAND'S WILL - -X. WHAT THE COOK FOUND - -XI. THE INQUIRY-AGENT - -XII. ARNOLD AND LAURA - -XIII. ON THE TRACK - -XIV. THE NEW TENANT - -XV. THE PROFESSOR'S COURTING - -XVI. A SURPRISE - -XVII. THE PROFESSOR'S TRUMP CARD - -XVIII. A STORY OF THE PAST - -XIX. STILL A MYSTERY - -XX. THE HOUSE IN THE FIELDS - -XXI. THE TRUTH - -XXII. THE WIND-UP - - - - - - -THE WHITE ROOM - - - - - - -THE WHITE ROOM - - - - -CHAPTER I - -THE POLICEMAN'S DISCOVERY - - -"Eleven o'clock and a windy night!" might have been the cry of a -medi�val watchman at that hour on the 24th July 19--. Constable -Mulligan was more reticent, as it formed no part of his duties to -intimate publicly the time or the state of the weather. Nevertheless -the bells of the Anglican Church, Troy, London, S.W., chimed the hour -through the clamour of a high wind; and those people who were not in -bed must have decided to retire. Not that any one appeared to be -stirring. The lights were extinguished in all windows within the range -of Mulligan's vision, and the flashing of his lantern on the doors and -gates in Achilles Avenue showed that they were discreetly closed. Not -even a tramp or a cat enlivened the roadway. Mulligan was apparently -the sole waking person in a sleeping world. - -Troy was a bran-new suburb, built by a jerry-builder, who knew -Greek history through the medium of Lempriere's Dictionary. This -pseudo-scholar had erected classic villas with classic names in roads, -avenues, and streets designated by Hellenic appellations. The rents in -this anachronistic suburb were rather high, and the houses were -inhabited mostly by stockbrokers, prosperous or not, according to -their wits or the state of the money-market. There was also a -sprinkling of schoolmasters, professors, and students, attracted by -the phraseology of the place, which promised cultured surroundings. -The drainage was perfect and the morals were unexceptional So new was -the suburb, that not even a slum had been evolved to mar its -cleanliness. The police, having little to do in so genteel a -neighbourhood, were individually and collectively more for ornament -than use. The ten years' history of the locality was one of order, -intense respectability, and consequent dulness. Only in a rogues' -purlieus is life picturesque and exciting. - -Mulligan was a black-haired giant, somewhat dull, but possessed of a -dogged sense of duty, eminently useful when taken in conjunction with -brute force. He paced his beat in a ruminative frame of mind, -thinking, not unpleasantly, of a certain pretty housemaid, with whom -he intended to walk out on Sunday. Being as talkative as Bunyan's -character of that name, Mulligan would not have been displeased to -meet a brother-officer, or even a stray reveller, with whom to -converse. But his fellows were in other neighbourhoods, and revellers -were unknown in the respectable streets of Troy; so Mulligan, for the -sake of hearing his own voice, hummed a little song in a deep bass -growl. He passed Hector Villa, Agamemnon Villa, Paris Villa, and Priam -Villa, all of which were in darkness, enshrined in leafy gardens. At -the gate of Ajax Villa he halted. A light in a first-floor window over -the classic porch showed that the inmates had not yet retired. Also a -woman was singing. Constable Mulligan, being fond of music, waited to -hear the song. - -"Kathleen Mavourneen;" thought he, recognising the melody, "and a fine -pipe she has who sings it. It's a party they'll be having within, with -the tongues clapping and the whisky flowing. Begorra, it's myself -that's wishing I had some of that same," and he wiped his mouth with a -longing air. - -As he stood at the gate, looking up the wide path which ran straightly -to the shallow steps of the porch through a short avenue of elms in -full leaf, he became aware that some one was coming out of the front -door. The constable put it to himself in this way, as he heard the -sound of opening and shutting, but no stream of light, as he expected, -poured from the hall. With such darkness there could scarcely be a -party in progress. Also--as Mulligan's quick ears detected--the door -was opened with unusual caution and closed with equal care. The person -who had emerged--whether it was a man or a woman the policeman could -not guess--hesitated on the steps for a few minutes. Apparently the -officer's form bulked blackly against the light of the opposite -street-lamp, and the stranger was undecided whether to re-enter the -house, or to come down the path. Mulligan was too dense to be -suspicious, and merely wondered why the person in question did not -fulfil his or her original intention. Meanwhile the song flowed an -smoothly, and Mulligan half unconsciously noted that although the -words were sung slowly, the piano music between each verse was played -hurriedly. - -Finally, thinking that the stranger on the steps would not approve of -a policeman leaning on the gate, Mulligan turned away with the airy -grace of an elephant. Hardly had he taken a few steps when a young man -came quickly down the path with a light, springy step. In a pleasant -tenor voice he called to the constable. "Anything wrong, officer?" he -asked, and the gate clicked behind him as he uttered the words. - -Mulligan, halting under a street-lamp, saluted good-humouredly. "No, -sir," he declared. "I was just listening to your good lady singing." - -"My sister," corrected the man, also pausing under the lamp, but in -such a position that the light did not reveal his countenance. "You -ought to like that song, constable." - -"An' for why, sir?" - -"It's Irish, as you are." - -"Augh! An' is it me, sir, you'd be calling Irish?" - -"The way in which you turn that sentence would stamp your nationality, -even if the brogue didn't," retorted the young man, taking out a -silver cigarette-case. "You smoke, officer?" - -"Mostly a pipe, sir," rejoined Mulligan, accepting the little roll of -tobacco. "Is it a light you'll be wanting?" - -"Thanks," said the other, and bent down to ignite his cigarette at the -match provided by the policeman. But he still kept his face in shadow. -Not that Mulligan had any desire or reason to see it. He merely -thought that the gentleman was a departing guest, although he could -not account for the dark hall, which set aside the idea of a party. -Moreover, the stranger was arrayed in a light tweed suit, which was -not exactly appropriate for a party. Also he wore a loose overcoat of -bluish-black cloth, with a deep velvet collar and velvet cuffs made in -the latest fashion. On so warm a night, this garment was quite -unnecessary. Still, Mulligan had no reason to be suspicious, and was -the last man to be inquisitive. He had the politeness if not the keen -wit of the Celt. - -After lighting his cigarette the gentleman strolled away towards the -ancient village which formed the nucleus of modern Troy. Unwilling to -lose the chance of a pleasant conversation, and perhaps a kindly -shilling, Mulligan followed, and beside the light active form of his -companion looked like a bear lumbering in the company of an antelope. -The gentleman did not appear anxious to talk, so Mulligan made the -first remark. - -"The song's done," said he, as they walked on. - -"It isn't a long song," replied the other carelessly. "I dare say -she'll start another soon, and you can listen at the gate half the -night, if you have a mind to." - -"It's a party you'll be having then, sir?" - -"Party! No! Can't people sit up till midnight without having the house -full of dancers?" - -"Augh," grunted Mulligan; "there being no light in the hall, I might -have guessed there was no party." - -The other man started slightly and laughed uneasily. "My sister asked -me to turn out the light when I went," said he. "I did so before I -opened the door." - -"You'll be going home then, sir?" - -"Yes--to the other end of London. Is there a hansom about?" - -"Near the station, sir. That'll be half a mile away." - -"I know--I know," retorted the other quickly. "I often come here to -see my sister." He paused, then added anxiously: "I suppose you know -most of the people who live in these villas?" - -"None, sir. I've only been on this beat a week." - -"You'll get to know them soon, I expect. A quiet place, officer." - -"It is that, sir," assented Mulligan, as they turned down a narrow and -lonely street. "Never a robbery or an accident or a murder to make -things happy." - -"Why should there be a murder?" asked the man angrily. "Murders are -not so common." - -"More common than you think, sir, but the most of them aren't found -out. It is I who'd like a really fine crime with my name in the -papers, and a printed recommendation as an efficient officer. None of -your poker murders and plain sailing you'll understand, sir, but a -mystery, as you read of in them little books written by gentry as -don't know the law." - -"Ah! Incidents in detective novels rarely occur in real life," said -the other, with a more tranquil laugh. "Providence is too original to -borrow in that way. But live in hope, officer, a crime may come your -way sooner than you expect." - -"Not hereabouts, sir." Mulligan shook his head gloomily. "It's too -clean a neighbourhood." - -"The very place where a crime is likely to occur. Have you another -light, constable?" - -Mulligan struck another match, and this time he saw the face of the -speaker clearly. It was a handsome face, rather worried-looking. But -as the stranger wore a moustache and a small pointed beard, and as his -Homberg hat--it was grey with a black band--was pressed down over his -eyes, Mulligan could not determine if he were more than usually -worried. Not that he minded. He fancied after some reflection that -this handsome young gentleman was--as he put it--out on the spree, and -therefore took the marks of worry for those of dissipation. He did not -even examine the face closely, but when the match was extinguished he -halted. "There's the half-hour, sir. I must get back to my beat." - -"And I must race for a cab," said the stranger, pressing a half-crown -into a not unwilling hand. "Thanks for coming so far with me, officer. -I wonder if my watch is right," he added, pulling it out. "It's -half-past eleven." Something fell at the moment, chipped against the -curb with a tinkling sound, and rebounded into the road. "You've -dropped something, sir," said Mulligan, flashing his lantern towards -the middle of the street. - -The other felt his pockets. "No, I don't think so. Can you see -anything? Oh, no matter. I dare say--what can I have dropped?" - -The two searched for a time without success. At length the stranger -shook his head positively, and felt his pockets again. "You must be -mistaken," he remarked. "I don't think anything is missing. However, if -you do find anything, you can give it to me when you see me next. You -are usually on this beat?" - -"For the next three nights, sir." - -"Ah then, we are sure to meet. I often come here. Good night." And -with a wave of his hand the gentleman walked rapidly away. At the turn -of the street he looked back and again waved his hand. It might have -been that he was anxious to see if the constable was watching him. But -no such suspicion occurred to Mulligan. He was too pleased with the -half-crown. - -"A fine upstanding young gentleman," was the policeman's verdict; -"free with his money"--he here produced the cigarette--"and his -tobacco, good luck go with him." - -As the inspector was not within sight, and indeed would not be until -Mulligan returned to the fixed point in Achilles Avenue, the policeman -decided to solace himself with a smoke. After lighting up he threw -away the match. It fell almost in the middle of the road, and flamed -up brightly in a pause of the wind. Although it went out with the next -gust, Mulligan, in the short time, caught with his keen eye the -glitter of steel. Striking another match, he searched round, and -picked up a latch-key, long and slim and with scarcely projecting -wards. "He'll not get to his bed this night," said Mulligan, looking -towards the corner. "If I was to run after him now------" - -But this, he decided, was impossible. The gentleman, walking at an -unusually rapid pace, would be some distance away, and also in the -meantime he might have met with a hansom. Also Mulligan had to return -to the fixed point, as failure to meet his superior officer would meet -with a sharp reprimand. "Ah well," said the philosophic policeman, -"the young gentleman will be here to-morrow night, or maybe his sister -will be still up, and I can give the key to her." - -On the chance of securing another half-crown, Mulligan decided that -this latter course would be the more diplomatic. Astutely adopting it, -he walked smartly to Achilles Avenue. A consultation of his Waterbury -watch assured him that he had nearly twenty minutes to spare before -the arrival of the inspector. He therefore sought out Ajax Villa, -being guided thereto by the fact that the light was still burning on -the first floor. But he heard no singing. However, the light showed -that the lady was still in the room, though doubtless the servants--as -was shown plainly by the stranger's conversation--were in bed. -Mulligan walked up to the door and rang. With some foresight he argued -the lady would come herself to the door, whereby he would be more -certain of his money. - -The wind was dying down, now that it was close upon midnight, and -everything in the house and garden was absolutely still. Walking up -the path under the umbrageous shelter of the elms, Mulligan saw the -colours of the flowers in neutral tints under a faint starry sky. -There was no moon, but a kind of luminous twilight pervaded the -atmosphere. Mulligan, being a Celt, was not impervious to the charm of -the place which might have been Juliet's garden, so strangely had the -magic of night transmuted its commonplace into romance. But his -housemaid was expensive, and he hurried to the door, anxious to obtain -a reward for the return of the key. - -Several times did he ring, and although he heard the shrill vibration -of the bell echo through the house, no one appeared in answer to its -imperative summons. Thinking he might have made a mistake, the -constable stepped back into the garden. But he was right. This was the -villa out of which the young man had issued, for there burned the -guiding light on the first floor. Mulligan felt puzzled by the -inexplicable silence and rang the bell again. Indeed he pressed his -great thumb on the ivory button for nearly one minute. The bell -shrilled continuously and imperiously. Still no one came. Mulligan -scratched his head and considered. "Something's wrong," thought he. -"If I'd the key I'd enter and see if the lady is ill. Queer, the bell -don't waken the servants. Augh! The lazy beasts." - -It occurred to him that in his hand he held the key dropped by the -young gentleman. Almost without thinking he fumbled for the hole and -slipped in the key. To his surprise it turned under his involuntary -pressure, and the door swung open noiselessly. Again the constable -scratched his head. Things--so he assured himself--were becoming -mysterious, and he scented an adventure. It was strange that this key -should open the door. "Unless this is his home, and he's running away -for some devilment. Maybe the lady isn't his sister; perhaps his wife -or his sweetheart. Augh! But she'd not let him go at this hour. Catch -her." - -However he might argue, it was foolish to stand before an open door -without doing something. The inspector would be round soon, and -might--probably would--demand an explanation. Now that he had got this -far, Mulligan naturally decided to see the adventure through. As yet -he had no suspicion that anything was wrong, though he certainly -thought the whole affair mysterious. Walking into the dark hall, at -the end of which, by the light of his lantern, he saw the glimmer of a -marble staircase, he called gently up into the blackness. "Is there -any one there?" demanded Mulligan. "If so, come down, for I'm in want -of an explanation." - -He paused and listened. There came no reply. The dense silence held -the house. Not even a clock ticked. Mulligan suppressed his breath and -listened with all his ears. No sound filled them save the drumming of -his heart. Again he ran into the garden and again assured himself that -the light was burning overhead. He began to conclude that the position -called for the intervention of the law. Assuming an official air, he -tramped up the stairs, flashing the light right and left as he -ascended. He did not know the position of the room, save that it was -in the front of the house. But thus indicated, he thought there would -be little difficulty in finding it and solving the mystery. - -From the glimpses he caught, the house appeared to be richly -furnished. He saw pictures, velvet curtains, marble statues, and all -the paraphernalia of a wealthy man's mansion. The stairs were draped -with scarlet hangings, contrasting vividly with the whiteness of the -polished marble. On the landing, curtains of the same flamboyant hue -were parted before another dark hall. Mulligan crossed this, for he -saw--or thought he saw--a thread of light beneath a door. The hall was -of marble and filled with tropical plants. A glass roof overhead -revealed the starry night and the grotesque forms of the plants. The -flooring was of mosaic, and here and there stood velvet-cushioned -chairs, deep and restful. Evidently the house was owned by rich and -artistic people. And the fitful gleams from his lantern exaggerated -the wealth and splendour around. - -In spite of the noise made by his boots--which were anything but -light--no one appeared to demand the reason of his intrusion. He began -to feel an eerie feeling creeping over him. This silent, lordly house, -the darkness, the stillness, the loneliness: it was all calculated to -appeal strongly--as it did--to the Celtic imagination of the -policeman. - -Towards the thin stream of light flowing, as it seemed, from under the -door, Mulligan took his cautious way. Knocking softly, he waited. No -reply came. Again he knocked, and again the silence which struck a -chill to his heart ensued. At length he took his courage in both hands -and flung open the door. It was not locked. A gush of light nearly -blinded him. He staggered back, and placed his hands across his -dazzled eyes. Then he looked in bewilderment at a remarkable scene. -The room was square and rather large, unbroken by pillar or arch, and -contained only one window. Walls and roof and flooring and furniture -and hangings were absolutely white. There was not a spot or speck of -colour in the place. The walls were of white enamel studded with -silver fleur-de-lis; the floor of polished marble strewn with white -skins of long-haired animals. The curtains, drawn aside from the -window, were of milky velvet. The furniture was of white polished wood -cushioned with pearly silks. Everywhere the room was like snow, and -the milky globes of the lamps shed an argent radiance over the whole. -It looked cold and cheerless but eminently beautiful. An artistic -room, but not one that had a homely look about it. The white glow, the -dazzling expanse, colourless and severe, made the man shiver, rough -though he was. "It's like a cold winter's day," said the imaginative -Celt. - -Suddenly he uttered an exclamation. On moving cautiously into the -room, he saw a piano of polished white wood in a recess, concealed by -a white velvet curtain from the door. Before the piano lay a white -bearskin; on this, face downward; the body of a woman. She was dressed -in black, the one spot of colour in that pale room. But there was -another colour--a vivid red, staining the skin. Mulligan touched the -body--it was cold and limp. "Dead," said Mulligan. From under the left -shoulder-blade trickled a thin stream of blood, and his voice, strong -as it was, used as he had been to scenes of terror, faltered in the -dead silence of that death-chamber. - -"Dead! Murdered!" - -Not a sound. Even the wind had died away. Only the strong man looking -down at that still corpse, only the blackness of her dress; the -redness of her life-blood soaking into the white bearskin, and all -around the wan desolation of that white, mysterious room, Arctic and -silent. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -ANOTHER MYSTERY - - -Mulligan stared at the dead woman, but beyond touching her to see if -life remained, he did not attempt to alter the position of the corpse. -For corpse it was. The woman was as dead as a stone, and Mulligan knew -his duty too well to take any authority upon himself The inspector was -the man to issue orders, and the inspector would be at the head of -Achilles Avenue when the clock struck twelve. As this thought passed -slowly through the policeman's mind--for the unexpectedness of the -tragedy had somewhat dazed him--he heard the midnight chimes. With a -sudden start he recovered his wits and wheeled round. In a few minutes -he was out of the house, and had closed the door. Only when in the -roadway did his brain begin to work at its normal speed. - -"It's that young gentleman," thought Mulligan. "He said I'd come -across a crime sooner than I expected. And the key is his. Mary, be -good to us; but he must have killed the poor creature before he joined -me. Augh!" He stopped and considered. "But if that's so, what about the -singing. She was at the piano, and the song wasn't done when the -gentleman joined me. Augh!" - -At this moment of his reflection, and while he was looking anxiously -down the road for the inspector, a man came walking rapidly along, and -suddenly emerged from a side-street that ran at right angles to -Achilles Avenue. He almost dashed into the arms of Mulligan, who -brought up short under a lamp. "Where are ye going?" asked the -policeman, rendered suspicious by his recent discovery and by the -manifest haste of the man. - -"Going, confound you!" snapped the man, who seemed to be in a very bad -temper. "I'm looking for my motor-car." - -"For your what?" - -"Motor-car! Automobile! Can't you understand English? I've lost it. -Some one's bolted with the whole kit. Have you seen my car? It's -painted yellow picked out with black, and------" - -"Here's the inspector," chipped in Mulligan, recognising with relief -the rigid form of his superior. "You can tell him, and if you're the -man, anything you may say will be used in evidence against you. That's -the law. Augh!" - -The man stared at this speech, but Mulligan wiped his heated brow and -glared at him in a resentful manner, not at all sure but what this -might be the criminal. There was no ground for such a supposition, -especially as the key belonged to another man. But Mulligan was not in -a position to weigh his words, and therefore said the first thing that -came into his mind. So the man stared, Mulligan scowled, and the -inspector drew near. - -"You've been drinking, bobby," said the man at length. "My name is -Luther Tracey. I manufacture motor-cars, and some beast has bolted -with one of the best I've ever turned out. Such a flier. I guess you -police hereabouts ain't worth a cent." - -"You're American," said Mulligan. - -"And you're several kinds of ass, I reckon. See here, about this car -of mine." - -Mr. Tracey would have gone on to explain at length, but that he was -interrupted by the arrival of the inspector, who was tall and thin, -military and sharp. He glanced keenly at Tracey, and inquiringly at -Mulligan. The engineer would have begun talking at once, as he -appeared to have a considerable fund of what his countrymen call -"chin-music"; but Mulligan waved him aside, and reported hurriedly to -Inspector Derrick what he had discovered. Although Derrick was -manifestly surprised and excited by the strange recital, he made no -remark; but when in possession of Mulligan's facts--which ranged from -his meeting with the young gentleman to his leaving the dead body in -the house--he turned to Tracey. That man was listening eagerly, and -seemed quite interested. - -"Well, I surmise that's a queer case," said he, smacking his leg. -"What do you make of it, inspector? If you want to know my opinion, -the man as laid out that lady corpse has bolted with my motor-car." - -"No," said Mulligan; "he walked with me for a---- When did you miss -your car, sir?" - -"You might call it a few minutes after eleven." - -"He was with me then," said the policeman; "'twasn't him. No!" - -Derrick, who had preserved silence, chimed in "Who are you, sir?" - -"My name's Tracey," replied the American smartly; "here's my card. I -manufacture motor-cars, and came to see some friends of mine this -night in one of my latest. I left her humming at the gate, and at ten -minutes after eleven I went out to start her for the factory. Nary a -sign of the car, sir, and I've been chasing round these lanes for the -last hour. This lunatic"--he pointed to Mulligan--"seems to think I -have to do with the murder. Don't you think you'd better run me in? It -'ull be an advertisement and a smart action for false imprisonment." - -Derrick smiled under his heavy moustache, and took a long look at Mr. -Tracey. The American was fair and handsome, active in his movements -and compact in his frame. He wore fashionable evening-dress, and -looked a shrewd, pleasant man of the world, who had travelled much and -had his wits about him. The mention he made of arrest showed Derrick -that the man was innocent. Not even a Yankee's passion for advertising -his goods would hurry a man into the grip of the law if he were in any -way guilty. The inspector, however, did not think it wise to lose -sight of Tracey, and being diplomatic he behaved towards him in quite -an affable way. "You might come with me and see into this matter," he -said, moving on. - -"Rather," rejoined Tracey with alacrity. "I'm dead gone on adventures, -and this is a ripper. Wonder if I can get an advertisement out of it? -What do you think, sir?" - -"Well, if your car is missing------" - -"'Course. The man's raced off with it." - -"No," denied Mulligan again; "he was with me at the time your car was -lost." - -"Do you think the man you talked to, killed this woman?" asked the -inspector, turning sharply on Mulligan. - -"I do and I don't, sir." - -"What do you mean by that?" - -Mulligan scratched his head. "He had the key, and he came out of the -house sure enough. But she was singing when he talked to me at the -gate. She wasn't dead then." - -"Then he must be innocent," said Derrick sharply. "Do you know to whom -the villa belongs?" - -"No, sir. Here it is, and you can see that the light's still burning -as I left it. I haven't touched the body, sir." - -"You did right," approved Derrick, swinging open the gate. "Wait, we -must look at the name. Your lantern, Mulligan." - -The light illuminated the black letters on the gate, but before the -inspector could pronounce the name, Tracey did it for him. "Ajax -Villa--Ajax Villa," said he, stopping; "sakes, it's Fane's house. -Don't tell me it's Mrs. Fane--such a fine woman. But it can't be." - -"Why not?" said Derrick, looking at him suspiciously. - -"Because the whole family are at the seaside--all except Miss Mason." - -"Where is she, and who is she?" - -"Miss Mason is the sister of Mrs. Fane, and she's stopping with the -friends I was seeing when my car was stolen." - -This was a strange discovery, and Derrick looked puzzled. Tracey spoke -in all good faith, and seemed quite willing to enter the house. All -the same it was queer he should know so much about the matter. As the -constable opened the door Derrick asked a question. "You heard -Mulligan describe the man who came out of this house," he said; "can -you tell me who he is?" - -"No," confessed Tracey. "I know very little of Mr. Fane and his -family. I've never been in this house. But Miss Mason is the bosom -friend of the girl I'm going to engineer into the position of Mrs. -Tracey. She's Gerty Baldwin at present, and lives at No. 20 Meadow -Lane along with her mother and the kids. Now, is there anything else -you want, to know, Mr. Inspector?" - -"Not at present. But later on." Derrick nodded and walked into the -house, followed by the two men. - -"Oh, anything you like," called out Tracey, not at all damped by the -fact of death being in the house, "anything for an advertisement. I -guess I'll sell that car at a big figure. Tussaud's will buy it if the -murderer's skipped in it." - -"He hasn't," said Mulligan, still confused. - -"He has," insisted the American. "Why should an honest man yank off my -car? Some one wanted to get out of the way in a hurry, and he took my -flier. I guess he's out of London by this time. She can skim a bit. -Oh, I reckon she's no slouch." - -"Hush," said Derrick sharply, and removed his cap. Tracey did the -same, for the presence of death--the immediate presence--began to -sober him. Mulligan stood rigidly at the door while Derrick examined -the body. "Is it Mrs. Fane?" he asked. - -"No," said Tracey, staring at a girlish face, still and white and -waxen. "Mrs. Fane would make two of this poor thing. She's a Junoesque -sort of woman, about the size of the Venus of Milo, and the same -shape, too. This is a slip of a girl." - -"A married woman," said Derrick, pointing to a ring on the hand. He -walked slowly round the room. "Mulligan," said he, "go and see if any -one else is in the house------" - -"I tell you Fane and family are at the seaside," said Tracey. - -"Never mind. There may be a caretaker. Look round, Mulligan, and see -if any windows or doors are unlocked or open. Mr. Tracey, please sit -still and silent. I wish to make an examination." - -Mulligan departed promptly, and the American sat comfortably in a deep -armchair watching the inspector. That gentleman prowled round like a -sleuth-hound. He examined the window, then scrambled along the floor, -shook various curtains, shifted several cushions, and finally knelt -beside the body after a glance at the piano. He interrupted his -examination to point out the music. "According to Mulligan, she was -singing 'Kathleen Mavourneen,'" said he. "There's the song. Poor soul. -She was evidently struck down when singing." - -"Then the man met by Mulligan is innocent, since he was outside while -the song was still being sung." - -"He might be an accessory before the fact, Mr. Tracey." - -"In other words, an accomplice. But he didn't nick my car. No, sir. -The real murderer did that, and I guess that car's worth money at the -boss waxwork show of this metropolis. They can fire it into the -chamber of horrors along with Napoleon's cart and the baby's pram. -What figure would you ask now, inspector?" - -"You go too fast, Mr. Tracey. We don't know yet that the criminal has -stolen your car. Is the house you were visiting far from here?" - -"Oh, I guess not. Mrs. Baldwin hangs out No. 20------" - -"Yes," interrupted Derrick, "you told me. That's no distance. Meadow -Lane--to be sure--part of Old Troy." - -"No," contradicted Tracey. "The village is called Cloverhead." - -"And round the village Troy has been built, so the lesser name is -merged in the larger." - -"Sounds legal, and not quite right, Mr. Inspector. Say, your -name's------" - -"Derrick. Inspector Derrick. I am in charge of the Troy police, and -this is the first crime of any sort I have stumbled across here." - -"Slow lot," commented the American. "In our country we'd have filled -the boneyard in six months." - -"We don't murder on that gigantic scale here, Mr. Tracey," Derrick -answered, somewhat dryly. Then he looked steadily and keenly at the -man. "I'm going to trust you," he declared. - -Tracey whistled, and stared doubtfully at the body. "Shouldn't if I -were you, sir. Here's a crime, and I know a lot------" - -"Oh, you do! What do you know?" - -"What I've told you. I might be an accomplice too, you see, along with -the other man." - -"The murderer?" - -"No. The rooster who skipped with my car. He didn't stick that poor -girl there. Not he. Guess he kept your copper employed in jaw while -the real murderer polished off the female. That's how I size up -things. Well, sir, and what do you want me to do?" - -"Fetch a doctor." - -"Don't know any hereabouts My knowledge of this township is limited to -Meadow Lane, and Miss Baldwin's favourite walk across the fields. -'Sides"--he cast a quizzical look at the officer--"I might not come -back." - -"Oh yes, you will. I shouldn't let you go if I wasn't sure you'd -return, if only for the sake of your car and the advertisement." - -Tracey laughed. "Well, where's the medicine man?" - -Derrick scribbled a few lines on his card, and passed it along. "Go -there, and ask Dr. Geason to come here--the sooner the better." - -"Right, sir!" Tracey rose and looked wistfully down at the dead. "I -guess the man who did that would be lynched in our country." - -"He'll be hanged in this when found," retorted Derrick. "Go, please." - -When the American was out of the room the inspector resumed his -examination. Mulligan returned when he was in the middle of a brown -study. "There's nothing to be seen, sir," he reported. "No one in the -house. Doors and windows all bolted and barred. Not a sign." - -"Strange," mused Derrick. "You are sure that the man who came out of -the house was speaking with you while the singing was going on?" - -"I'll take my oath on it, sir. He can't be guilty." - -"Did he strike you as being confused?" - -"Not very, sir. He didn't want his face to be seen, though, and kept -his hat down on his eyes. He said the lady who was singing was his -sister, and that he often came to see her." - -"H'm! Why should he come to a house which is shut up?" - -"He had the latch-key." - -"Hand it over to me," said Derrick, and when in possession of it, took -a long look at the size and shape. "New," said he, rapping it on his -knuckles. "Hasn't been used much." - -"Might be polished from too much use, sir," ventured Mulligan. - -"The edges wouldn't be so rough if it wasn't new." Derrick pointed -this fact out. "You don't know the man's name?" - -"No, sir." - -"Nor where he lives?" - -"No, sir; I had no reason to ask him anything." - -"Well, I suppose you couldn't foresee that we should want him. I don't -expect he'll turn up in this neighbourhood again." - -"What's your theory, sir?" - -"It's early to form one, Mulligan. I fancy two men killed this woman. -The one you saw kept you in conversation, while the other murdered the -woman, and then cleared, while his accomplice led you away. Did you -hear a scream?" - -"No, sir. The song ended as we left the gate, and in a few minutes we -were too far away to hear any cry." - -"As I thought. The man was an accomplice sent out to lure you away." - -"It might be, sir," confessed Mulligan. "I was leaning over the gate -when the young gentleman came out." - -"The men saw you from the window, and as they couldn't kill the woman -while you were there, Number One went out to draw you away, while -Number Two remained behind to commit the crime. At what hour did you -part with Number One?" - -"Half-past eleven, sir. I was with him thirty minutes." - -"Time enough for Number Two to murder the woman and make off. He -escaped by the front door, since you say the back premises are locked -up. Ah! there's the doctor. Go to the station and send on----" Here -Derrick named two of his most trusted subordinates. - -When Mulligan left, the inspector resumed his examination. Already he -had looked over the clothing of the deceased. She was plainly but -tastefully dressed in black, but wore no ornaments. Everything was of -good quality, but made without trimmings. The under-linen was equally -fine, but on it the inspector could find no mark or initials likely to -indicate the name. Apparently she had been seated at the piano when -stabbed, and had fallen dead on the bearskin almost without a cry. The -assassin had assured himself that she was dead, then had turned her -face downward, so as to avoid the horrified stare of those wide-open -eyes. At least this was the inspector's view. - -"A pretty woman," said Derrick musingly. "Fair, slender, blue eyes, -delicate hands. I should think she was a lady. Married"--he touched -the ring--"but not rich, since she wears no ornaments. Careful in her -dress, but, not mean, and not fashionable either. Hullo!" - -This exclamation was drawn from him by the sight of a hat and cloak -thrown over a chair on the further side of the piano. These were also -fine, but neat and unpretentious. The woman must have come to the -house on a visit, since she certainly would not have placed her -out-of-door things in such a place and have sat down had she a bedroom -in the house. But what was she doing in a mansion, the owner of which -was at the seaside? Had the first man let her in with his latch-key, -and if so, how did he come to be in possession of the latch-key? These -were questions which the inspector was trying to answer when the -doctor arrived. - -Geason was an ambitious young medical man who had set up in Troy a -year previously, and was trying hard to scrape a practice together. He -was well aware that such a case as this would give him a much-desired -publicity, and consequently expressed himself profoundly grateful to -Derrick for the job. Then he knelt beside the body and made an -examination, while Tracey, who had returned, questioned the inspector. -"Found out anything?" he asked. - -"Only that the woman was a visitor to this house," and Derrick pointed -out the cloak and hat. - -"Strange," said the American. "Wonder what she meant making free with -a man's house in his absence?" - -"Are you sure Mr. Fane's at the seaside?" - -"Certain. Miss Baldwin was told by Miss Mason--and she's Mrs. Fane's -sister--that they would stay a month. Westcliff-on-Sea is the place. -Miss Mason got a letter yesterday. Fane was there then." - -"It is an easy run from Westcliff-on-Sea to this place," responded -Derrick dryly. "A man can fetch this house from there in a couple of -hours. But I don't suspect Mr. Fane." - -"He might be the man with the latch-key." - -"No." Derrick thought of the key being new. "I don't think so. Did any -young man stay in this house?" - -"Not that I know of. You'd better ask Miss Mason. I know nothing about -this ranche. Well, doctor?" - -"She's been dead nearly five hours," said Geason, rising. - -"Nonsense," said Derrick. "She was alive at eleven, and it's not one -o'clock yet." - -"I don't know about that," persisted Geason, "but from the condition -of the body and the lack of warmth, I say she has been dead five -hours." - -Derrick and Tracey looked at one another perplexed. If the doctor was -right--and he seemed positive--this unknown person could not have been -the woman who sang "Kathleen Mavourneen." - -"There's four of them," said Tracey; "two women and two men." - -Derrick shook his head. The case was too mysterious for him to venture -an opinion. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE BALDWINS - - -"Maryanneliza, do keep the children quiet. The bad twins are fighting -with the good twins, and the odd ones are making such a noise that I -can't finish this story." - -"Well, ma'am, there's so much to be done. The breakfast's to clear -away, and the washing to be counted, and----" - -"Oh, don't trouble me," cried Mrs. Baldwin, settling herself on the -sofa. "It's one of my bad days. What Miss Mason will think of the way -this house is kept, I don't know. What do I pay you wages for?" - -"It's little enough I get," said Mary Ann Eliza, firing up. - -"More than you're worth," retorted her mistress. "If you were a -mother, with seven orphans to keep, you might talk. Where's Miss -Gerty?" - -"Gone to see Mr. Tracey at the factory." - -"So like her," lamented the mother; "no consideration for my feelings. -What I feel only the doctor knows. There!" as several wild screams -rent the air to tatters, "that's blood. If any one of my darlings die, -I'll hold you responsible, Maryanneliza!" Mrs. Baldwin ran the three -names into one as the children did, and shrieked out to stop the -servant from going. But Maryanneliza knew better. If she stopped to -listen to Mrs. Baldwin's complaints, there would be no work done. She -simply bolted to see which child was being tormented to death, and -Mrs. Baldwin, after calling in vain, subsided into her book, and -solaced herself with a lump of Turkish delight. - -She was not unlike a Turkish odalisque herself, if rumour speaks truly -of their fatness and flabbiness. A more shapeless woman it would have -been hard to discover, and she usually wore a tea-gown as the least -troublesome garment to assume. From one week's end to the other, Mrs. -Baldwin never went out, save for a stroll in the garden. Not even the -delights of shopping could tempt her into making any exertion, and she -had long since ceased to care for the preservation of her figure or -good looks. At one time of her life she had been handsome, but the -production of seven children, including two sets of twins, had proved -too much for her. Also her second husband had deserted her, and as he -had been responsible for six children, she complained bitterly of his -absence. He was supposed to be alive, but kept carefully away from his -too prolific wife. For eight years she had not heard from him, but -never ceased to expect him back. - -Mrs. Baldwin's first husband had been a gentleman, and she was the -pretty daughter of a lodging-house keeper, who had ensnared him when -he was not on his guard. His family disowned him, and after the birth -of a daughter, the young man broke his neck when hunting. He left Mrs. -Harrow, as she was then, with the child and five hundred a year. -Afterwards a man called Rufus Baldwin, attracted by the money, married -the pretty young widow. Luckily, owing to the will, Mr. Baldwin was -not able to seize the principal of the income. But he lived on his -wife till six children came to lessen the money, and then finding he -could get nothing more luxurious, he ran away. Mrs. Baldwin then -removed to Cloverhead, and occupied an old manor-house at a small -rent. It was a pleasant, rambling old mansion in a quiet street, and -here she lived very comfortably on her five hundred a year. - -"Do you remember Gerty Harrow with whom we were at school?" wrote -Laura Mason to an old friend. "She lives here, near the place of my -brother-in-law, and is now about twenty-two years of age. Such a nice -girl--pretty and clever, and engaged to a most amusing American called -Luther Tracey. He manufactures motor-cars, and Gerty Baldwin drives -them. Whenever a car is sold, Gerty goes down and stops for a week or -so with the people who buy it, to show them how it works. Being pretty -she gets plenty to do. Mrs. Baldwin objected to Gerty doing this for a -livelihood, and only consented when Gerty agreed to drop her father's -name. She is Miss Baldwin now, and I like her more than ever. The -mother----" - -Here followed several marks of exclamation, as though Laura's powers -of writing failed her, as they assuredly did. It would have taken the -pen of Dickens to describe this lazy, self-indulgent, querulous woman, -who lay on a sofa all day reading novels. At the present moment, she -was deep in a _Family Herald_ story called "Only an Earl," in which a -governess with a single rose in her hair marries, with great -self-abnegation, a mere earl, after refusing two dukes and a foreign -prince. Mrs. Baldwin, basking like a cat in the sunshine that poured -through the window, read each page slowly, and ate a lump of Turkish -delight every time she turned a page. - -The sitting-room was most untidy. Children's toys were strewn about; -the carpet was raggedy the pictures hung askew, the red plush -table-cloth--it was a most abominable covering--was stained, the blind -was torn, and a broken window-pane had been filled up with brown -paper. Yet the room had a comfortable, homely look, and if it had not -been so disorderly, would have been pleasant to live in. But Mrs. -Baldwin, quite undisturbed by the confusion, read on with great -enjoyment. She only lifted her eyes when Laura Mason entered the room, -and then her first words were querulous. - -"How you can bear to stop here with Getty when your own home is so -beautiful, I really don't know," moaned Mrs. Baldwin, keeping her -place in the tale by bending the book backward. "Just look at this -room. I may toil from morning to night, and it never will look tidy." - -"It's comfortable, at all events," said Laura, sitting down. "Do you -feel well this morning, Mrs. Baldwin." - -"Just alive. I could hardly get out of bed. Not a wink of sleep, and -dreadful dreams." - -Mrs. Baldwin did not explain how she could dream without sleeping, but -she was such a wonderful woman that she could do anything. For -instance, she could be idle throughout the day, and keep up the -fiction that she worked like a slave. She could enjoy her life in -laziness and dirt and selfishness, posing as a martyr to every one. -Laura saw through her as most people did; but as Laura was a guest, -and Gerty's friend, she did not explain herself at length, as she -would have liked to do. Besides, Mrs. Baldwin was a good-natured old -dormouse, and no one could be angry with her long. - -"I have been out with Gerty," said Laura, sitting near the window; -"she has gone to the factory to see Mr. Tracey." - -"She never thinks of me slaving from morning till night," moaned the -mother. "I'm skin and bone." - -Miss Mason nearly laughed outright, for Mrs. Baldwin was as fat as -butter, and quite as soft. "You should take more care of yourself." - -"No, Miss Mason," said the heroic woman. "I must deny myself all -pleasures for the sake of my babes. Ah, they will never know what a -mother they have." - -It certainly would not be for the want of telling, for Mrs. Baldwin -was always recounting her virtues at length. She did so now. "When I -was young and gay, and truly lovely, and lived with ma in Soho -Square," she rambled on, "I little thought that life would be so hard. -When Mr. Harrow led me to the altar, all was sunshine, but now penury -and disgrace are my portion." - -"Oh, not so bad as that, Mrs. Baldwin," protested Laura. - -"Penury, disgrace, and desertion, Miss Mason. Rufus Baldwin has left -me with six pledges of his affection, and but for the forethought of -my first husband--who must have foreseen the twins--I would have -starved in chains and miry clay." - -Having thus placed herself in the lowest position she could think -of, in order to extort sympathy, Mrs. Baldwin ate more Turkish -delight--she was too selfish to offer Laura any--and stated that her -heart was broken. "Though I don't show it, being trained by ma to bear -my woes in silence," she finished. - -Laura said a few words of comfort in order to stop further complaints, -and then stated that she was going to Westcliff-on-Sea in two days. -"My sister Julia is expecting me," she said, "and I have been with you -for over a week. It is so good of you to have me." - -"Not at all. I've done my best to make you comfortable, Miss Mason, -though heaven knows I can hardly keep on my feet." Here Mrs. Baldwin -closed her eyes as a token of extreme exhaustion. "But we must do our -duty in the world, as I always tell Horry, who is to be a parson, if -he can pass the examinations, which I doubt. Of course Gerty will -marry Mr. Tracey, who is well off, and leave her poor ma, who has done -so much for her. But I am determined that my babes shall occupy the -best places in society. Totty, Dolly, and Sally shall marry money. -Jimmy and Dickey must win renown to repay me for my lifelong agonies. -You don't look well, Miss Mason?" - -The suddenness of this question, coming so quickly after the rambling -discourse, made Laura start and colour. She was a fair, pretty girl, -with yellow hair and a creamy complexion. Her eyes were dark, her -mouth delightful, and her nose was "tip-tilted like the petal of a -flower," to quote her favourite poet. Not a particularly original girl -either in looks or character, but charming and sympathetic. Laura had -a wide circle of friends who all loved her, but no one could call her -clever. But she was so womanly that men liked her. "I am quite well, -Mrs. Baldwin," she declared; "only I did not sleep much last night." - -"Dreams! dreams!" moaned Mrs. Baldwin. "I had horrible dreams about -you. I fancied I saw you eating bananas. Every one knows that means -trouble. But pine-apples growing in ice are the worst," said Mrs. -Baldwin. "I have never dreamed that. Trouble is coming to you." - -"Don't!" cried Laura, starting to her feet, and with an anxious air; -"please don't! I think dreams are nonsense." - -"No," said Mrs. Baldwin, producing a small book from under her sofa -pillow. "Read this, and see what it means to dream of sparrows pecking -cats to death." - -Laura laughed. "I should rather think the cats would eat the birds." - -"Not in a dream. Everything goes by contraries in dreams. Before John -Baldwin ran away, I dreamed he was rushing into my arms, crowned with -honeysuckle. But that day he went. Didn't your walk last night do you -good?" - -"No," said Laura shortly, then went on with some hesitation. "I was -away only for half an hour." - -"Where did you go?" - -"Across the fields." - -"Thinking of Mr. Calvert, no doubt," said Mrs. Baldwin playfully. - -Laura grew red, and on another occasion would have resented this -remark about the young gentleman mentioned by Mrs. Baldwin. But at -this moment she appeared to be rather glad of the suggestion. "I _was_ -thinking of him," she assented. - -"A very nice young man, though he is an actor." - -"Why shouldn't he be an actor?" demanded Laura angrily. - -"There! there!" said Mrs. Baldwin soothingly; and aggravatingly, "We -know that love levels all ranks." - -"Arnold Calvert is a gentleman." - -"Your sister, Mrs. Fane, doesn't think so. She expressed herself much -annoyed that he should pay his addresses to you." - -"Julia can mind her own business," said Laura angrily. "She married -Mr. Fane, and he wasn't a very good match." - -"No indeed. Your sister had the money." - -"And I have money also. Quite enough for Arnold and I to live on, as -you----" Here Laura held her tongue. She really did not see why she -should tell Mrs. Baldwin all her private affairs. But when the heart -is very full, the tongue will speak out. Luckily at this moment there -was another outburst of noise overhead, and Mrs. Baldwin moaned three -times. - -"The bad twins are persecuting the good ones, and the odd ones are -looking on," she lamented. "Do go up and see, Miss Mason." - -Laura, glad of an excuse to leave the room, saw Mrs. Baldwin with -another lump of delight in her mouth, and another page turned, and -flew up the stairs. Here she found a general rebellion. The bad twins, -Totty and Dickey, aged ten, were pinching the good twins, Jimmy and -Sally, aged twelve. Horry and Dolly, who, not being twins, were called -the odd ones, looked on complacently. Laura darted into the middle of -the fray, and parted the fighters. - -"Horry! Dolly! You ought to be ashamed of yourselves to see these -children fight so. Horry, you are fourteen, and you, Dolly, are -seventeen. Why don't you behave?" - -"We are behaving," said Dolly, a girl in the stage of long legs, short -frocks, and inky fingers. "We haven't touched them. I can't study my -French lesson for the noise." - -"And I've got my algebra to do." - -"You shouldn't learn lessons on Sunday," said Laura. - -"Why not? Gerty's gone to business." - -"She has not. She only went to see if Mr. Tracey found his motor-car -that was lost last night." - -"Ah! And I'm glad of it," cried Horry triumphantly. "He wouldn't let -me sit in it to watch." - -"And a good thing to," said Dolly, pensively picking a hole in her -stocking; "you started it last time." - -"And nearly ran us over," said one of the good twins. - -"I wish he had," said the bad twins in chorus. "Come and play, Miss -Mason. Bible games!" - -"I have no time. Gerty will be back soon. Now, be good children, and -don't disturb your mother. She has a headache. Besides, you must get -ready for church." - -"I hate church," growled Horry. "And if mother thinks I'm going to be -a parson, I ain't. So there now." - -"You'll never go to heaven then," said Sally, who was the most pious -of the good twins. - -"_Oh, mon Dieu, quel dommage!_" said Dolly. - -"Dolly!" cried Laura, shocked. - -"I'm only swearing in French. It doesn't sound so bad as using bad -words in English." - -"No," chimed in a bad twin. "I heard the gardener say----" - -"Hold your tongue, Jimmy; you needn't say the word!" - -But Jimmy, being bad by nature and training, had made up his mind to -say the word, and did so very distinctly. An uproar ensued, which -ended by the entrance of Mary Anne Eliza. "Come and be washed." There -was a chorus of protests, in the midst of which Laura escaped. Not -being inclined to talk further to Mrs. Baldwin, she went out in the -garden, which was large and as ill-kept as the house within. At the -gate she paused, and leaning over, looked up the lane. It was a -beautiful morning, and the air was as balmy as the sky was blue. But -the exquisite weather did not banish the dark look from Laura's face. -She gazed up the road with compressed lips, and then taking a letter -out of her pocket, she read it hurriedly. Thus engaged, she did not -see a tall brunette flying down the lane, with a flushed face, and an -air of excitement. - -"O Laura!" cried the newcomer; "O Laura! Such news--dreadful news." - -Miss Mason started, and her face grew pale. Hastily thrusting the -letter into her pocket, she looked at the girl. "What is it, Gerty? -Nothing is wrong with Arnold?" - -"No! no! What a timid thing you are," said Gerty, opening the gate. -"But I have just seen Luther. He hasn't found his car. But he told me -that a murder had been committed in your sister's house." - -"A murder!" Laura grasped her friend's arm. "Not Arnold?" - -"No. It's a woman." - -"Who is she?" - -"No one knows. She was found lying dead in the White Room. Stabbed in -the back, and quite dead. Such a pretty woman, Luther says, and quite -young. Luther thinks the murderer ran away with his car, and that's -how it's missing. He's coming round here this morning to see you." - -"To see me? Why should he see me? I know nothing." - -Laura spoke sharply, and her face was in a glow of colour. At the same -time it expressed bewilderment. "How did the woman enter the house?" -she asked; "and who is she?" - -"I tell you no one knows," said Gerty impatiently. "You'll hear all -from Luther, when he comes. But don't say anything to mother. She'll -only moan and make a fuss. Besides, Luther says it had better be kept -quiet till your brother-in-law comes up. He has been telegraphed for -by the police." - -"The police. O Gerty, will they bring the police into the matter?" - -"Of course. It was a policeman who found the body last night." - -"How did the policeman enter the house?" asked Laura. "It's shut up, -and not even a caretaker was left." - -"I don't know the whole story. Luther would not tell me much." Here -Gerty looked at her friend. "Laura, I thought you went to the house -last night." - -"No," said Laura, after a moment's hesitation. "I told you that I was -going to meet Arnold. You know that I have to meet him by stealth, -since Julia objects to our engagement. It is not likely we would meet -at the house--especially as it is locked up." - -"Did you meet him?" asked Gerty persistently and curiously. - -"I didn't. I went into the fields by the Nightingale's Tree, and -waited till nearly a quarter to ten. But Arnold never came." - -"Did he promise to come?" - -"No. I only went on the chance. He thought that he might be able to -get away if his understudy could take his part in the piece." - -"I expect he couldn't get away," said Gerty. "How awful this murder -is. I wonder who the woman can be, and how she came to be killed." - -"It's very strange," said Laura, who was pale but composed. "Gerty, -did you tell Luther I was out last night?" - -"No. We were too busy talking of the crime." - -"Then say nothing. I should only get into trouble with Julia." - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE MISSING MOTOR-CAR - - -It was not from Tracey that Laura learned the details of the Ajax -Villa tragedy. Leaving Gerty in the garden with her lover, Miss Mason -walked round to the house, eager to hear all that had taken place. A -rumour about the murder had crept round Troy, and a few curious people -were staring at the windows. But no policeman was to be seen. The -inspector kept his officers on guard inside the villa, thinking, and -very rightly, that the sight of a constable in the garden would -provoke inquiry, and bring onlookers. Derrick wished the matter kept -as quiet as possible until the arrival of Mr. Fane. The body of the -unfortunate woman had been removed to one of the bedrooms, and a -policeman watched at the door. Everything in the house was in the same -order as it had been when entered by Mulligan, and Derrick himself -took up his quarters in the White Room. Here he issued orders. - -"If a young lady calls to see me, let her in," he said; "but no one -else is to be admitted." - -"Mr. Tracey, sir?" asked Mulligan, who was full of official pride. - -"Yes; certainly. I except him. But no one else, mind." - -"What about the wire to Mr. Fane, sir?" - -"I'll send it as soon as I get his address from the lady. Ah"--he -nodded as a ring came to the door--"there she is." - -Laura entered the room, looking pale and discomposed, evidences of -emotion of which Derrick took note. To be sure, it was natural that a -girl of this tender age should be unstrung by the tragedy which had -taken place, and Derrick scarcely expected to see her other than -moved. But having regard to the crime, he was suspicious of all the -Fane family. He admired Laura's fresh beauty, and placed a chair for -her, apologising meanwhile for the disagreeable duty he had to -perform. - -"But I am sure you will excuse me, Miss Mason," said the gallant -Derrick. "I will ask as few questions as possible." - -"I really don't know what questions you can ask me," said Laura. - -"Oh, that is an easy matter, Miss Mason. However, we had better clear -the ground, so that we may understand one another. It was Mr. Tracey -who told me that you are the sister-in-law of Mr. Fane, and I -requested him to bring you round. Is he below?" - -"No; I preferred to come myself. Mr. Tracey is of a very inquiring -nature, and I don't want him to hear all I may have to tell you." - -Derrick shook his head. "I fear you will be obliged to let the whole -of London hear, Miss Mason. There will be an inquest." - -"Must I appear at that?" - -"Certainly. You may be able to identify the woman." - -"I fear not, from the description Mr. Tracey gave of her." - -Derrick looked at her sharply as she said this. Her eyes met his -fairly, and she did not flinch from his scrutiny. But her bosom rose -and fell hurriedly, her cheeks flushed, she passed her tongue over her -dry lips. All these things gave evidence of inward discomposure. -Whether she knew anything, Derrick was not prepared to say. But if she -did, he was sure it would be difficult to make her speak out. Laura -was innocent and young, but in spite of her delicate appearance, she -had a strong will. Derrick guessed as much from the way in which she -tightened her lips. But he could not conceive that she could hold out -against his examination. "Have you anything to conceal?" he asked -abruptly and rashly. - -Laura coloured still more and glanced at him indignantly. "How can you -speak to me like that?" she said; "do you suspect me?" - -"No. Certainly not. But the affair is strange, Miss Mason." - -"From the little I gathered from Mr. Tracey, it is," she assented. - -"Here is a house shut up," said Derrick, pursuing his own train of -thought; "left without even a caretaker----" - -"There was no need for one to be left," interposed the girl. "My -sister, Mrs. Fane, thinks that Troy is a safe suburb. There have been -no burglaries hereabouts, so she merely asked the police to keep an -eye on the house. Besides, she is away only for three weeks." - -"When do Mrs. Fane and family return?" - -"In six days." - -"You remained behind?" - -Laura bowed. "My sister and I are not on very good terms," she began, -"and I thought it best to remain with my friend, Miss Baldwin, while -the house was shut up. But you were saying something." - -"Merely that it is queer this woman--this stranger--if she is a -stranger, should obtain admittance into the house while those who own -it are away. She came on Saturday evening--at what time we are not as -yet able to learn. No one saw her come. We do not know if she came -alone or in the company of any one. But come she did, and entered the -house. How did she get in?" - -"I am as puzzled as you are, sir. But if you will let me see the body, -I may be able to tell you if it is that of a stranger to me." - -"We can do that later," said Derrick. "Meanwhile I wish to put a few -questions. And even if this woman were not a stranger is it likely -that she could enter the house?" - -"No. So far as I know, my brother-in-law alone has a latch-key." - -"Is there not another possessed by a young man?" - -Laura looked out of the window while answering this question. "Not -that I know of," she said faintly. - -Derrick appeared satisfied with this reply, and took out his -note-book. "Answer my questions, please," he began. "Who is Mr. Fane?" - -"My brother-in-law. He is the second partner in the shipping firm of -Mason, Son, and Mason." - -"Oh! And why does not his name appear?" - -Laura explained. "The firm is an old one," she said; "there are two -partners, my brother and Walter Fane. When my father died, the firm -was Mason, Son, and Mason, and as it is an old-established one, my -brother did not change the name when Mr. Fane became a partner." - -"When did Mr. Fane become a partner?" - -"Three years ago, when he married my sister Julia!" - -"Did Mr. Fane bring any money into the business?" asked Derrick; then -seeing Laura's look of surprise, he continued apologetically, "Excuse -me, Miss Mason, but I must know everything." - -"I believe Mr. Fane brought very little money into the business. It -was my sister Julia who had the money, and she paid sufficient to my -brother to buy Walter a share. But I have no right to tell you these -things," said Laura, flushing. "If you wish to know anything further -you must ask Mr. Fane himself." - -"I intend to. Will you give me his address?" - -"Ocean View, Wandle Road, Westcliff-on-Sea." - -Derrick noted this in his book. "I'll send a wire to him," he said, -"as the inquest takes place to-morrow and we must have him present. By -the way, do you know a young man with a pointed beard and slim figure? -Is he a visitor at this house?" - -"Not that I know of," said Miss Mason promptly. "I know no one of that -type--with a pointed beard, I mean." - -"Yet such a young man came out of the house, and held the policeman in -talk while his accomplice murdered this woman." - -"Were there two men, then?" - -"We think so," answered Derrick cautiously. "I presume, Miss Mason," -he added, "you have been to this house since Mrs. Fane left it?" - -"Certainly not." - -"But living so near--Meadow Lane is but a stone-throw away." - -"Quite so. All the same I had no reason to return here." - -"You live in this house?" - -"With my sister. Yes." - -"Then your things are here?" - -Laura looked hard at Derrick, trying to fathom his meaning. "I took -all needful things with me, as though I were going on a long journey, -Mr. Inspector. For nearly two weeks I have lived with Mrs. Baldwin, -and have not been in Achilles Avenue." - -"Have you not passed the house?" - -"I said that I had not been in Achilles Avenue," replied Laura. - -"Then you know nothing," said Derrick, obviously disappointed with the -result of his examination. - -"Absolutely nothing." - -The inspector nursed his chin, and thought with his eyes on the -ground. There was nothing else he could ask. Mr. Fane was the owner of -Ajax Villa, and as this unknown woman had been murdered therein, Mr. -Fane alone would be able to say how she had come by her death. In his -past life might be found the reason that the poor creature should be -so slain. "What did Mr. Fane do before he joined the firm?" - -"Nothing," replied Laura, rousing herself from her own thoughts; "he -is possessed of independent means and travelled a great deal. I -suppose he grew weary of so aimless a life. However, my sister -persuaded him to become a partner, which he did, after he married -her." - -"Hum!" said Derrick, not finding this reply threw any light on the -subject. Then he cast his eyes round the room. "This is a queer place, -Miss Mason. Mrs. Fane's idea?" - -"No. Mr. Fane furnished the house. My sister does not like this room. -It is too cold in its looks for her. Mr. Fane is fond of it. But the -whole house was furnished before Mr. Fane married." - -"For the marriage, I presume." - -"No. Mr. Fane lived here as a bachelor for six months before he -married my sister." - -"But no doubt the engagement lasted six months, and Mr. Fane furnished -the house as he thought your sister would like it." - -"He did not. Mr. Fane married my sister at the end of three months, -and before that he furnished the house according to his own taste." - -Derrick thought this strange. However, he did not ask any more -questions, as he felt that he had rather exceeded the limits of an -even official courtesy. "I am much obliged to you for replying so -frankly to my questions, Miss Mason," he said. "If I have been too -curious, the strange nature of this case must be my excuse. We will -now inspect the body." - -Laura's cheeks grew even paler than they were. But she made no -objection. Silently she followed the inspector, moving indifferently -through the house. Only when they arrived at the door of the -death-chamber did she draw back. "You have put the body into my room," -she said resentfully. - -"I am sorry," said Derrick, opening the door, "but of course I was -quite in ignorance." - -"I shall never be able to sleep in the room again," murmured Laura, -and passed through the door which Derrick held open. - -Out of delicacy the inspector did not enter with her. He remained -outside, thinking over what she had said. It seemed to him that Mr. -Fane had married very suddenly, and had taken his bride to a house -which had not been furnished for her. The house was too large for a -bachelor, and must have been intended for two. What if Fane had been -engaged to some one else, for whom the house was furnished, but the -engagement being broken, and married Miss Julia Mason so hurriedly. If -this were so, the house with its strange White Room which was not to -the present Mrs. Fane's taste must have been furnished for the unknown -woman. And perhaps the unknown woman was the poor soul who lay dead -within. Only Fane had the latch-key, only Fane could have admitted -her, and then--here Derrick broke off. He felt that he was taking too -much for granted; that he was building up a theory on unsubstantial -foundations. Until he saw Fane, and learned what kind of a man he was, -it was impossible to formulate any theory. Still, for his own -satisfaction, Derrick determined to ask Laura a few more questions. It -was at this moment she emerged, pale but composed. - -"I do not know the woman at all," she said, before he could speak. - -"You are quite sure?" - -"Perfectly. I never set eyes on her before. A pretty woman," added -Laura sadly, "and with quite a girlish face. I wonder what brought her -here to meet her death." - -"I wonder," said Derrick; "and who could have killed her?" - -"That is the mystery," sighed Laura, turning to go away. - -"It will not remain one long. Mr. Fane must know her, since only he -had the latch-key." - -"Yes. Only he has----" here Laura broke off and flashed an inquiring -look on the inspector. "Do you mean to say that my brother-in-law knows -something about this crime?" - -"If only he has the latch-key----" - -"You stated that this young man with a pointed beard met by your -policeman had a latch-key." - -"Yes. But has Mr. Fane a beard?" - -"A beard? No. He is clean-shaven." - -"He might have assumed a disguise." - -"How dare you hint at such a thing?" said Laura indignantly. "I am -quite sure that Mr. Fane knows nothing. Last night he was at -Westcliff-on-Sea, ill in bed. I can show you a wire. My sister knew -that I was going to her to-morrow, and she wired last night at five -o'clock saying that Walter was ill and that I had better not come." - -"Oh!" This statement took the inspector aback. If Fane had been ill at -Westcliff-on-Sea, he certainly could not be the man met by Mulligan. -"Can you show me the wire?" he asked. - -"I will send it round to you. And I am quite sure that when you see -Mr. Fane you will not suspect him of this crime. A better and more -kindly man does not live. However this woman came to enter the house, -however she was killed, and for what reason, Mr. Fane can know nothing -of the matter. How was she killed?" - -"Stabbed under the left shoulder-blade while she was singing." - -"Singing! What was she singing, and why in a strange house?" - -"She was singing 'Kathleen Mavourneen.'" - -Laura looked surprised. "My sister's favourite song." - -"Oh indeed," said Derrick sharply. He hesitated. "Your sister is also -at Westcliff-on-Sea?" - -"Are you about to accuse her?" asked Laura disdainfully. - -"I accuse no one," replied Derrick, nettled. "I am only trying in all -directions to learn facts upon which to build up a theory." - -"Then why don't you look for real evidence?" - -"Such as what, Miss Mason?" - -"Such as the weapon with which this woman was killed." - -"We have looked. It cannot be found. The murderer took it away. He -would not be such a fool as to leave that lying about. The doctor -fancies from the nature of the wound that it must be a long slim -dagger--a kind of stiletto." - -"Such as a foreigner might use," said Laura involuntarily. - -"What do you mean?" asked the inspector sharply. - -Laura flushed. "Nothing, nothing," she responded; "but foreigners -usually make use of such a weapon, don't they? An Englishman would not -kill a person with a stiletto." - -"It's not British, certainly," said Derrick, with insular prejudice; -"but a woman might use such a thing. Still, we do not know that the -assassin is a man or"--he looked straight at her--"a woman." - -Laura could not quite understand his meaning, since it never struck -her that he meant to incriminate her in the matter. She took no -notice, being anxious to learn what Derrick thought. "What is your -theory on existing facts?" she asked coldly. - -Derrick reflected. "I hardly know what to say. Let us suppose that the -woman admitted herself into the house. How she got the latch-key I am -not prepared to say. She came to meet some one--possibly the two -people who killed her." - -"The two people?" interrupted Laura abruptly. - -"There was the young man who kept Mulligan in talk," explained the -officer, "and the one who presumably killed her. Let us suppose, for -the sake of argument, that this woman met these two men. Seeing a -policeman at the gate, Number One goes out to lure him away. Left -alone with Number Two, the woman sits at the piano to sing. On the -music-stand is 'Kathleen Mavourneen.' She knows that song and sings -it. The assassin, standing behind her, watches his opportunity and -stabs her. Then he goes." - -"You forget that the song was being sung, according to your own -account, before Number One left the gate with the policeman." - -"Certainly. But the woman might have begun to sing immediately after -Number One left." - -"Before," insisted Laura. "The policeman listened while Number One was -in the room. It was the song that made him stop. I am only going by -what you told me. Your theory doesn't fit together." - -Derrick frowned. "It is hard to put the pieces of the puzzle together, -Miss Mason. Only in detective fiction does the heaven-born genius put -this and that together in a flash. I--a mere mortal--am groping in the -dark. I may discuss a hundred theories before I hit on the right -solution. Nothing more can be done till I see Mr. Fane. As the woman -was in his house, he must know----" - -"He knows nothing," interrupted Laura imperiously; "he can't know. The -man is ill at the seaside and----" - -Derrick interrupted in his turn. "I'll wait till I hear what Mr. Fane -has to say," he declared abruptly. - -He rose to terminate the interview. As he opened the door Tracey -entered hurriedly. "My car's found," he burst out. - -"Where?" asked Derrick and Laura together. - -"Stranded in the yard of Charing Cross Station." - -Laura turned quickly on Derrick. "I beg you to observe, Mr. Inspector, -that you cannot get to Westcliff-on-Sea from Charing Cross." - -"I have not yet accused Mr. Fane," retorted the inspector. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -PUBLIC OPINION - - -Naturally there was great excitement over "The White Room Crime," as -it soon came to be called. The inhabitants of Troy were shocked, as -such a thing had never before happened in their locality. They found -their holy quiet invaded by a host of reporters, detectives, -policemen, idlers, and morbid folk who wished for new sensations. Mr. -and Mrs. Fane left their child at the seaside and came up for the -inquest, which was held at a quiet public-house in the neighbourhood. -Fane insisted that the body should be taken away from Ajax Villa. - -"It should have been removed at once," he declared. "I don't know the -woman. I never set eyes on her. My wife doesn't know her, and I can't -conceive how she came to die in my place." - -"Do you alone own the latch-key?" - -It was Derrick who asked this question, and he eyed Fane sharply as -the reply came. - -"I alone own the latch-key of my house," said Fane; "it is a peculiar -lock. No other key but mine will fit it. See!" He produced a long slim -key, upon which Derrick, unlocking a drawer, took out of it the key -picked up by Mulligan. The two were identical in all respects. "You -see," said Derrick in his turn, "a duplicate has been made. I noticed -that the strange key was new when Mulligan showed it." - -"Where did you get this key?" - -"The young man who lured Mulligan away from the gate dropped it." - -"Very strange," said Fane in a puzzled tone. "I can't understand. I -don't think the locksmith who made me my key can have made two, as I -especially agreed with him that he was not to do so." - -"Have you his address?" - -"Yes. It is at my office in the city. I will give it to you. But I am -sure the man is to be trusted. A most respectable tradesman." - -"Hum," said Derrick, scratching his chin. "Respectable tradesmen do -queer things for money at times." - -"But why should this strange woman have been brought to this house--my -house--to be murdered?" - -"I can't say. That is what we have to find out. You don't know this -woman?" asked Derrick doubtfully. - -Fane was a smart, cheery-faced fellow with rather a weak mouth. He -looked rather haggard, as he had practically risen from a sick-bed to -obey the summons of the law. For the moment he appeared puzzled when -Derrick spoke. Then he flashed an indignant look on him, and grew red. -"Do you mean to insinuate that I did something underhand, Mr. -Inspector?" he inquired excitedly. - -"Men admire pretty women," said Derrick dryly. - -"I do, like all men. At the same time I am faithful to my wife, whom I -love very dearly. We are a most attached couple. And if you hint at -anything wrong, sir, let me tell you that I was ill with a cold at the -seaside when this crime was perpetrated. Also, had I been in town--had -I known this woman--I certainly should not have brought her to my own -house." - -"No! no! quite so," said Derrick soothingly. "I don't mean to hint for -a moment that your character is not spotless. But this key, sir. Has -it ever been out of your possession?" - -"Never! I carry it, as you see, on a steel chain. It comes off at -night and goes on in the morning. Only my wife could have had it in -her possession. You are not going to accuse her of taking an -impression, are you?" asked Fane scathingly. - -"Does Mrs. Fane know the woman?" asked Derrick, passing over this -ironical speech. - -"No. She never set eyes on her. No one knows who the woman is." - -"Strange! Strange! I wonder why she should be killed in your house?" - -"Don't you know her name?" asked Fane. - -"No. There is no mark on her linen; no cards or letters in her pocket. -She came out of the darkness into your house, and has been swallowed -up by the darkness of the grave. We know no more. At the inquest -something may transpire." - -"I sincerely hope so," said Fane bluntly. "The whole thing is most -disagreeable. I shall have to give up Ajax Villa. My wife is quite -upset. The affair will put me to great expense. Good-day." - -"One moment. Do you know a young man with a pointed beard?" - -"Not that I can recall," replied Fane after a pause. "But of course I -may have met such a person." - -"Well"--Derrick gave up his questions in despair--"we must wait for -the inquest." - -But here a fresh disappointment awaited him. Nothing came to light at -the inquest likely to throw light on the mystery. Geason proved that -the unknown woman had been stabbed from behind and had died almost -immediately. He was positive that she had been dead five hours when he -was called in. If this were so, the woman who sang the song could not -be the dead one. Nor could the young man who entered into conversation -with Mulligan have been sent to lure him away so that the murder might -take place. When the young man came out of the house the woman must -have been dead three hours. The doctor firmly held to this opinion, -and thereby perplexed the jury and upset the theories of Derrick. - -Various were the opinions given by those present during the interview. -Some thought this, some that, and every one had his own pet solution -of the mystery. But the evidence was scanty. Both Mr. and Mrs. Fane -stated that they knew nothing of the woman. The husband insisted that -the latch-key had never been out of his possession, and the wife -asserted that he had been sick in bed miles away at the time the crime -was committed. Mulligan described his meeting with the strange young -man and the conversation which had ensued; also his discovery of the -body, and how he had entered the house. All inquiries on the part of -the police failed to prove the identity of the dead. Tracey stated how -he had missed his motor-car, and evidence was forthcoming to show that -it had been left in the Charing Cross yard. But no one seemed to know -who had brought it there. The result of this crop of scanty facts was -obvious. The jury brought in a verdict against some person or persons -unknown. - -"It's the only thing to be said," said Derrick to Fane when the crowd -dispersed. "The woman is dead, and she must be buried. That cost will -fall on the parish." - -"No," replied Fane, who did not seem to be an unkindly man. "The poor -creature died in my house, so I will charge myself with her burial. I -have consulted Mrs. Fane, and she thinks as I do." - -"But you know nothing about her." - -"That is true. However, if you make inquiries, you may learn." - -The inspector shook his head. "I fear not; I don't know where to look. -It is a kind thought of you to bury her, Mr. Fane. Not many men would -do that in your place after the trouble you have had." - -"It's the least I can do, seeing she was murdered under my roof. But -you may hear who she is. Why not advertise?" - -"That has been done. Handbills have been placed round describing her -looks, and with a picture. Orders have been sent throughout London to -the police to keep their eyes open. I doubt if anything will come of -the hunt though." - -"Surely," said Fane, wrinkling his brows, "a woman can't disappear -like this in London?" - -"London is the very place where people disappear," retorted Derrick. -"Those who live in this big city never know how many people vanish -yearly and are never heard of again. In this case we have the body of -the woman, but who she was, where she came from, and why she was -murdered in your house, will probably never be known." - -"Well," said Fane, with the air of a man dismissing the subject, "if -you do intend to make inquiries, please keep me advised of your -discoveries. I should like to know how the woman entered the house. I -believe you saw my locksmith?" - -"I did. He swears positively that he did not make a duplicate key. -More than that, he has not a duplicate of the one he made you." - -Fane looked doubtful. "I should have thought he would have retained a -copy for trade purposes. Suppose I lost the key----" - -"He would not have been able to make you another, Mr. Fane. However, I -am keeping an eye on him. He may be lying for his own ends. One never -knows, and I always mistrust respectable men." - -"From what my sister-in-law told me, Mr. Derrick, you were inclined to -mistrust me." - -Derrick coughed. "The case is so strange," said he; "but I am now -quite sure that you had nothing to do with the matter." - -"Thank you for nothing," said Fane dryly. "It is lucky that with the -assistance of my wife I was able to prove an alibi." - -"Very lucky indeed," replied the inspector cheerfully. "Had you been -in town that night, and unable to explain your comings and goings, it -might have gone hard with you." - -"Do you mean to say----" - -"Nothing--absolutely nothing. But see here, Mr. Fane; put yourself in -my place, in the place of any man. A woman gains admittance to your -house and there is murdered. You alone have the key. On the face of -it, does not that look as though you alone killed her, else, why the -use of your key to let her enter the house? It is lucky for you, as -you say, that in full open court, and in the ears of all men, you were -able to prove an alibi, else nine out of ten would have suspected you -of knowing more than you stated." - -"I said all I knew." - -"I am sure of that, sir; and you proved--with the assistance of Mrs. -Fane--your innocence. As they say, you leave the court without a -stain. All the same, the case is strange. For my part, pending the -discovery of the young man who dropped the key, I shall hunt for the -woman. In her past life will be found the explanation of her death. I -shall let you know how I get on, but I must ask you to also keep me -advised of what you see and hear." - -Fane shrugged his shoulders and took out a cigar. "I shall take no -further steps in the matter. Once this woman is buried, and I have -left Ajax Villa, the thing will be relegated to obscurity so far as I -am concerned." - -"Well," said Derrick, with a side look, "perhaps that's natural." - -He then said good-bye to Fane, and went away thoughtfully. Derrick was -not a particularly brilliant mortal, as his conduct of the case shows. -As the saying goes, he could not see further than his nose. But he -certainly wondered in his own mind, if despite the evidence of Mrs. -Fane, her husband might not have something to do with the matter. To -save his life, to keep him from shame, she might have kept silence. -"But it's impossible," said Derrick aloud. "If he was guilty, she -would not lie. If the victim had been a man now. But as it was a -woman, a jealous creature like Mrs. Fane would certainly not sacrifice -herself to save a man who deceived her. No; Fane is guiltless. But who -is the culprit? That's the question." And it was a question which -Derrick could not answer, though he tried to do so in his blundering -way. - -So the unknown woman was duly buried. Tracey and Fane went to the -funeral, and the body was followed by a large concourse of those who -wished to see the last of the victim of this mysterious tragedy. Every -one agreed that Fane was behaving very well in thus giving the poor -wretch decent burial. Fane looked white and worn when the grave was -being filled in, and the rumour went round of how ill he had been, and -how he had come up from a sick-bed to see this matter through. Several -people shook hands with him as he left the cemetery, and he was -congratulated on all hands. Then the gates of the burial-ground were -closed, and the grave was left to the rain and the sunshine. For all -any one present knew, its secret would not be delivered up until the -Judgment-day. - -It was the press that said the last word on the subject. The _Daily -Budget_, always in search of the sensational, thought the affair -strange enough to give it the honour of a leading article. As many -people may remember the perplexity of police and public in connection -with this murder, it may not be uninteresting to give an extract or -two from the article. - -"The inexplicable murder in Troy is one of those crimes which at once -startle and shock the public. That a woman should be done to death in -this manner is bad enough, but that with our wonderful police -organisation, her identity should remain a mystery is nothing less -than a scandal and a shame. If the houses of law-abiding citizens are -to be made the shambles for unknown assassins, the sooner the police -force is reorganised the better. And again, is it not disgraceful that -nothing can be found likely to prove who this poor creature is? Have -we not newspapers and agents and handbills and all the paraphernalia -of civilisation for the detection of the unknown? Search should be -made in the most minute manner in order to prove who this dead woman -is. Once her name is discovered, in her past life may be found the -reason of her untimely and tragic death. This is the opinion of -Inspector Derrick, who has handled the case, with all its strange -elements of mystery, with but an indifferent degree of success. Not -but what we are prepared to admit that the case is remarkably -difficult and would tax the intellect of a Vidocq to unravel. - -"It would seem that the woman went to the house between eight and nine -o'clock, and was murdered shortly after she entered the door. -Certainly she was seated at the piano, and certainly the song of -'Kathleen Mavourneen' was open before her. But we are sure that she -never sang the song. While waiting for some one--perhaps the assassin -who struck her down--she may have played for a time. But the woman who -sang the song did so some three hours after the death of the -unfortunate creature. Mulligan swore that he heard the song about -eleven; the doctor declares that the woman was murdered before nine -o'clock. On the face of it, it is impossible to reconcile this -conflicting evidence. - -"No one saw the woman enter the house, although many people were -about Achilles Avenue during the evening. But in the multitude of -people--especially on a Saturday night--would lie the chance of the -woman not being observed. Few people knew that Mr. Fane and his -family--one little girl--were at the seaside; so even if any one had -noticed the woman enter the gate of Ajax Villa such a thing would not -be fixed in the mind of the observer. All inquiries have been made, -but no one appears to have noted the woman's coming. It is therefore -impossible to say if she entered the house alone or in the company of -the assassin. - -"And with regard to the assassin. We are inclined to think he is a -man--and that man who spoke to the policeman at eleven o'clock. It -might be, that gaining admittance by his latch-key with the woman, he -killed her almost immediately he entered, and then watched his chance -of escape. That he entered the house with the woman appears clear. We -stated above that it is impossible to say if the woman entered the -house alone. By this we mean that the man may have come earlier, and -may have admitted her before nine o'clock. The poor creature walked -into a death-trap. Taking her to the White Room, he lured her to sit -down at the piano, which would give him an opportunity of standing -behind her to stab her unawares. Then when she was dead, he probably -looked out of the window to see how he could escape. Fear evidently -kept him within till nearly eleven o'clock. Then he saw the policeman -passing, and then he sang the song to make the man believe a woman was -singing. Afterwards, when he had lulled any suspicions the policeman -may have entertained, he came out and escaped in the manner described. -This is our theory. The singer is described by Mulligan--a remarkably -intelligent officer--as having a deep contralto voice; so it is -probable the assassin sang in falsetto. That the man killed the woman -and thus escaped, we are sure; for only he having the latch-key could -have admitted her, and only he could have a reason to lure her into -the house. What that reason may be, must remain for ever a mystery." - -So far the _Daily Budget_ with its gimcrack theory. A rival newspaper -promptly set to work to pick holes in the case as presented by the -paper. This rival journal, the _Star of Morning_, commented as -follows: - -"Our respected contemporary goes too fast. Evidence was given -clearly by Mulligan that the song was being sung while the presumed -assassin--in the _Daily Budget's_ opinion--was in conversation with -him at the gate. Therefore the young man with the pointed beard could -not have sung 'Kathleen Mavourneen' in falsetto. The theory is -amusing, but it won't hold water. Our belief is quite different, and -we think more real. - -"In the first place, we think that the young man was the person who -admitted the women into the house. So far we agree with our -contemporary. We say 'women,' because we believe there were two -people, the victim and another woman. These two women came to the -house either in the company of the young man or by themselves. In any -case, he admitted them, since, however he obtained it, he alone -possessed the latch-key, and was thus enabled to enter the deserted -house. Once in the White Room, and the victim lured to the -piano--again we agree--she was murdered. The two assassins--for both -the man and the woman are equally guilty, though we are not prepared -to say who actually struck the blow--then watched their opportunity to -escape. It is a marvel that they should have remained three hours in -the house, perhaps in the room, after the crime was committed. They -arrived unseen along with their victim, so it is natural to think that -they would have escaped from the house as soon as possible, positive -that they would not be suspected. But guilt makes cowards of every -one, and it made cowards of these two. They waited in the room, -watching the gradual desertion of Achilles Avenue. About eleven they -decided to venture. Then the policeman appears. Doubtless to save -appearances, the woman sang. The man looking out, went away to lure -the policeman. He did so, and then the woman escaped. She saw Mr. -Tracey's motor-car standing unwatched at a gate, and forthwith used it -to fly, fearful lest she should be followed. If she went straight to -Charing Cross she must have arrived about half-past eleven. In the -crowd in the yard on a Saturday night, with cabs and other vehicles -coming and going, she would easily be able to draw up her car in a -quiet corner. No one seems to have noticed her, and women driving -motors is such a common spectacle now that no one would remark on the -circumstance. We think that the woman then entered the station and -left London. She may have escaped to the continent; she may have gone -merely to a suburb. At all events, all trace of her is lost, and the -deserted car was noted some hours later. - -"This is our theory, and we think it is a more feasible one than that -offered by our contemporary. As Mr. Fane is ignorant of the name of -the deceased, it is inexplicable how she came to meet with her tragic -death in his house. All the servants of Mr. Fane were at the seaside -along with their master and mistress, so no blame can possibly be -attached to them. Mr. Fane himself was ill in bed at Westcliff-on-Sea, -so he can know nothing. He positively asserts that he alone possessed -the latch-key, and the locksmith from whom he obtained it, declares -that no duplicate was made. This is not the least strange element in -this case. One thing we would draw our readers' attention to--the -decoration of the room in which the murder was perpetrated. It was all -white, and the black dress of the corpse must have formed a strange -contrast to the snowy desert around when the poor creature was -discovered by Mulligan. Quite a picturesque murder! Mr. Fane seems to -be a gentleman with an original turn for furnishing to possess such a -room, and the crime adds to its romance. And the secret of this murder -will never be discovered. Why the woman should be stabbed, why she -should have been lured to that strange room to be killed, how the -assassins obtained possession of the latch-key--these things must -remain for ever a mystery. But we are convinced that the crime was -committed by a man and a woman, and we have given our reason." - -To this statement--a purely theoretical one--the _Daily Budget_ -retorted in a short paragraph. - -"We will merely ask our clever contemporary one question. 'If the -woman assassin thus invented was singing at the piano before the -policeman leaned over the gate, what opportunity had she and the young -man to concert their scheme of escape?'" - -To this demand there came no reply, and the press ceased to comment on -the crime. The murder at Ajax Villa was relegated to the catalogue of -unknown crimes for quite two weeks. Then a strange thing came to -light. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -A STRANGE DISCOVERY - - -"You will have to make up your mind what you intend to do, my dear," -said Mrs. Fane to her sister, "for I may tell you that Walter and I -have arranged to make a change." - -"In what way?" asked Laura, looking up from her sewing. - -Mrs. Fane did not answer directly. She looked round the cosy -morning-room, with rather a wistful expression. It was a very charming -room, decorated in the fashion of a quaint, old parlour. In such an -apartment might Jane Austen's heroines have sat, and the two ladies in -modern dresses looked rather out of place. Mrs. Fane was tall and -statuesque, with a placid, firm face, beautiful but cold. Her eyes -were calm; she had none of those wrinkles which show the indulgence of -emotion, and an earthquake would have failed to upset her eternal -self-possession. Occupied in knitting a fleecy shawl, she scarcely -lifted her eyes as she spoke, but continued to work placidly, never -dropping a single stitch. There never was a woman who had herself so -much under control as Mrs. Fane. Laura often wondered how she came to -marry an excitable, vivacious man like Walter. But perhaps the -exception to the law that like draws to like drew them together, and -Mrs. Fane found in her husband, whose nature was so totally opposed to -her own, the complement of herself. - -The sisters resembled one another very little: Mrs. Fane was dark and -tall, Laura slight and fair. Laura laughed when she was amused, showed -anger when she felt it, and indulged unrestrained in her emotions, -though she never exceeded them. She was as open in her disposition as -Mrs. Fane was secretive. A glance would reveal Laura's thoughts, but -no scrutiny would show what Mrs. Fane had in her mind. Both of them -were plainly dressed, but Laura indulged in a few more trimmings than -her sister. Mrs. Fane might have been a lady abbess, from the severity -of her black garb. And a very good abbess she would have made, only -the nuns under her charge would have been controlled with a rod of -iron. She had no weaknesses herself, and had no patience with them in -others. Not even pain appealed to her, for she had never been ill. -Toothache was unknown to her; headaches she had never experienced; and -she seemed to move amongst less favoured mortals like a goddess, -majestic, unfeeling, and far removed from the engaging weaknesses of -human nature. Mrs. Fane, by reason of this abnormal severity, was not -popular. - -To make a happy marriage, either the man or the woman must rule. If -both have strong wills, separation or divorce is the only remedy to -avert an unhappy life. If the man is strong, he controls the woman; if -the woman has the will, she guides the man; and thus with no divided -kingdom, the domestic life can be fairly happy, in some cases -completely so. - -When Mrs. Fane--Julia Mason she was then--determined to marry Walter, -she also determined to have her own way. He was as weak as she was -strong, therefore he did exactly as she ordered him. But she always -gave him the outward rule, and, so to speak, only instructed him -behind the scenes how he was to act on the stage of the world. People -said that Mr. and Mrs. Fane were a happy pair, but they never knew the -real reason of such happiness. Mrs. Fane concealed the iron hand in a -velvet glove. Occasionally Walter proved restive, but she always -managed by a quiet determination to bring him again into subjection. -It may also be stated that she cherished a secret contempt that he -should thus give in to her, although such yielding formed the basis of -her ideal marriage. Only Laura knew how Mrs. Fane despised her -husband; but since she was living with the pair, she was wise enough -to keep this knowledge secret. Otherwise, Mrs. Fane would have made -herself disagreeable, and she had a large capacity for rendering the -house too hot for any one she disliked. Witness the expulsion of two -servants who had served Fane when he was a bachelor, and who were -discharged in the most polite way two months after Mrs. Fane came to -live at Ajax Villa. - -This domestic Boadicea looked round the room vaguely, and then brought -her eyes back to the pretty, anxious face of Laura. She had a poor -opinion of Laura, and always strove to impose her will on her. But -Laura had her own ideas of life, and resented Julia's interference. -There was but little love between the sisters, and this was entirely -due to Julia's domineering temper. Not that the two ever fought. Mrs. -Fane would not fight. She simply held out till she got her own way, -and thus was usually successful with Walter. But Laura, made of -sterner stuff, managed to hold her own, a firm quality which annoyed -Julia, who liked people to grovel at her feet. She was a domestic -tyrant of the worst. - -Outside the sun was shining, and its rays penetrated even into the -room. Mrs. Fane sat in a flood of gold, but was as unwarmed thereby as -the statue of a goddess. Even the tragedy which had happened lately -left but few traces of annoyance on her placid brow. Now that the -unknown woman was buried, and the papers had ceased to interest -themselves in the matter, she apparently dismissed it from her mind. -Secretly she was annoyed with Laura because the girl had insisted on -changing her bedroom. "I am not going to sleep in a room in which that -body was laid out," said Laura. And it was on this hint that Mrs. Fane -framed her reply. - -"I wonder at you asking in what way we intend to make a change," she -said in her cold voice, "seeing that you changed your room." - -"Oh; you find the villa disagreeable after this tragedy?" - -"I do not. So far as I am concerned, I should not mind living here for -the rest of my days. I like the house and the neighbourhood, and -especially do I like the White Room----" - -"The very place where the poor creature was killed said Laura, with a -shudder, which made Mrs. Fane smile. - -"My dear, what does that matter? Death is death, however it comes, as -you ought to know. If a murder took place in every room in the house I -should not mind." - -"Would you like it to take place in the nursery?" asked Laura. - -Here she touched Mrs. Fane on a raw spot. If there was one thing the -self-possessed woman loved it was her little daughter. That she was -annoyed showed itself by the slight flush which crimsoned her face. - -"You shouldn't say such things, my dear," she said in icy tones; "of -course I except the nursery. An atmosphere of crime would not be -conducive to the health of Minnie. But as I was saying, Walter wishes -to give up the house." - -"You said nothing of the sort," said Laura, irritated. - -"I say it now, then. Walter wishes to go abroad." - -"What about the business?" - -Mrs. Fane raised her perfectly marked eyebrows. "Well, what about it, -Laura? You know Walter is often away for weeks yachting. Times and -seasons make no difference to him, so far as his love of the sea is -concerned. Frederick says"--Frederick Mason was her brother--"that -Walter is of very little use in the office." - -"I wonder he keeps him, then," said Laura. - -"There is no question of keeping," replied Mrs. Fane serenely; "you -speak of Walter as though he were an office-boy. He is a partner, -remember, and I do his business for him." - -"I don't quite understand." - -"It's very simple, Laura. Walter, as you know, brought very little -money into the business. He seems to have spent what he had, or the -greater part, in furnishing this house for me." - -"It was furnished before you and he became engaged." - -"That is true. But I saw what was coming a long time before Walter -asked me to be his wife. He hinted that he was furnishing a house -here, and how he was spending money on it. I then knew that he -intended to make me his wife, and I determined to accept him. Not that -I loved him over much," added Mrs. Fane quietly, "but I was anxious to -have a say in the business. Frederick is a fool; and unless the -business is looked after, it will go to ruin. As the wife of one of -the partners, I am able to take a part in the conduct of the -business." - -"You could have done so without marrying," said Laura. - -Mrs. Fane shook her head. - -"No. Father left you an income of five hundred a year, but he left me -much more, because he knew that I would make good use of it. The money -which came to me, and your principal, were not invested in the -business. I asked Frederick to let me become his partner. He refused. -Then I engaged myself to Walter, who became a partner with my money. -Frederick is willing, seeing that Walter is not a good business man, -to let me act for my husband. I dare say he could have permitted this -without the marriage, but he would not for some reason. However, you -know now why I married Walter. Besides, Walter is a fool, and I wished -to have a weak husband, so that I might control him." - -"Was there no love at all in the marriage?" - -"Well, my dear"--Mrs. Fane laughed--"I must confess that Walter is -very good-looking, and that I should be jealous of his attention to -any other woman. Are you answered?" - -"Yes--so far as the love is concerned. But I don't understand how -Walter can go abroad and leave the business." - -"He is not much use. I can look after it for him, as I have always -done. Do you think I should let Walter go away yachting if I did not -like a free hand? He is happy on the sea, and I am happy in the -counting-house, so all is well. This villa has become objectionable to -Walter on account of the murder, so we intend to give it up. Probably -we shall move to a French watering-place or to Switzerland. Walter can -enjoy himself in his usual way, and I can run over when needful to -attend to the business." - -"I understand. But if you make your home in Switzerland, you will be -far from London. Also, Walter will not be able to yacht." - -"True enough. We shall see. I must be near England, so that I can run -across rapidly, and Walter must be near the sea, for his beloved boat. -If I allow Frederick to conduct the business without help, I am sure -he will ruin it and me too." - -"I wonder you like Walter to remain away for so long, Julia." - -"My dear, I have perfect confidence in him." - -"But if you loved him----" - -"I would keep him by me. Well, I do love him in a way, though he is -too weak to command my respect. But Walter is one of those -demonstrative men who are a nuisance to a woman of my temperament. He -wants to kiss and caress all day long. I find that trying, so I prefer -him to go away occasionally. And now you know what we intend to do, -what about yourself?" - -"Am I not to go with you?" - -"If you like. But you are getting older, and, I must confess, that as -you have an income of your own, I think you should have a home." - -"I see"--Laura looked directly at her sister--"you wish to get rid of -me." - -"Oh no," replied Mrs. Fane in quite a conventional way; "you are a -very good companion for Walter, and he is fond of you in his weak way. -As you don't trouble me, I shall be pleased to have you with us -abroad. But I think it right to give you the choice." - -"Of going with you as the fifth wheel on the chariot----" - -"Or marrying," said Mrs. Fane calmly--"yes. That is what I mean." - -"Suppose I do neither. I have my own money. I might go and live with -Gerty Baldwin." - -"You might," assented the elder sister, "if you like to live in a -pig-sty with that lymphatic woman, who is more like a jelly than a -human being." - -"There's no harm in her," protested Laura. - -"Nor is there in a pig. But I don't care to live with a pig. As to -Gerty Baldwin, she is a fast young minx, engaged to a vulgarian." - -"Mr. Tracey is a kindhearted man." - -"But vulgar. And Gerty?" - -"The dearest girl in the world." - -Mrs. Fane again lifted her eyebrows. - -"I confess I don't care for people of that sort." - -"Do you care for any one but yourself?" asked Laura bitterly. - -"I care for Minnie, and a little for Walter," said Mrs. Fane, "but the -ordinary human being does not seem worthy of being liked." - -"You condemn the world as though you were its judge and not its -denizen," said Laura, with a curled lip and flashing eyes. "Julia, you -were always a hard woman. Your nature is like our father's." - -"Quite so, and for that reason he left me most of the money. You and -Frederick take after our late mother. A kind woman, but so weak! Oh, -dear me," sighed Mrs. Fane; "how very weak!" - -"Laura felt inclined to walk out of the room. But she knew that such -behaviour would result in nothing. Mrs. Fane would show no anger, but -would simply attack Laura on the subject uppermost in her mind when -they again met. The subject was Laura's future, so the girl thought it -best to bring the matter to an issue. - -"Does all this mean that you withdraw your opposition to my marriage -with Arnold?" - -"No. I still think the match is a bad one. But if you are determined -to commit social suicide, I will not hinder you. Down at Westcliff I -considered the matter, and resolved to tell you this when I returned. -Of course this murder brings the matter still more to the front, since -it makes us give up the villa. You must decide whether to come with -us, or to marry Mr. Calvert, and take your own life on your own -shoulders." - -"We can settle that later. When do you go?" - -"In three or four months. We have to get rid of the lease of the -villa, you see, and there are other things to be considered. Have you -accepted Mr. Calvert's hand?" - -"Yes. We are engaged." - -Mrs. Fane shrugged her ample shoulders. - -"Fancy marrying an actor, and a mediocre actor at that! Why, the man -can't keep you." - -"I have money enough for us both." - -"Oh, I am quite sure that he will live on you, my dear. Why hasn't he -been to see you lately?" - -Laura rose to her feet. - -"Because I asked him not to come," she said distinctly. "You have been -so disagreeable to him that, for the sake of peace, I thought it best -he should not visit me." - -"You saw him when you were at the Baldwins'?" - -"Several times." - -"Oh indeed!" sneered Mrs. Fane; "and when do you marry?" - -"When we choose. Arnold is an actor and----" - -"A perfect stick," said Mrs. Fane derisively. - -"A fine actor, as every one acknowledges. He will make his mark." - -"There are few signs of it at present. Just now he is acting in this -new play at the Frivolity Theatre. A secondary part!" - -"He has the leading comedy part," said Laura angrily. "Julia, why will -you annoy me?" - -"My dear, I don't. It's your own bad temper. You never will face the -truth. However, I have placed matters before you, so you can take time -and decide your future course." - -"I won't go abroad with you, Julia. We should only quarrel." - -"Oh dear me, no! I never quarrel. People--you included--are too weak -to quarrel with. However, it's decided you won't come?" - -"Yes. I shall live with the Baldwins." - -"I wish you joy! But recollect, if you marry this actor, I refuse to -come to the wedding." - -"You had better wait till you are asked," said Laura rather weakly, -and left the room, fearful what she might say next. The last words she -heard from Julia were an admonition to keep her temper. - -At first Laura intended to go to her own room, but hearing voices in -the White Room she peered in. To her surprise, she saw Arnold seated -with Walter Fane. When they saw her, Arnold rose quickly and came -forward. - -"My dearest, how glad I am you have come!" - -"Why didn't you send for me?" said Laura, as he kissed her. - -"I asked him not to," interposed Walter uneasily. "Julia was with you, -and she would have come also. I don't feel well enough for Julia's -preaching at present," he said, passing his hand across his brow; "this -murder has upset me." - -"Have you heard about it, Arnold?" asked Laura, looking at her lover -in a searching manner. - -"Yes," he replied calmly, and evidently prepared for the question. "And -I should have come before to see you, but that you told me not to." - -"You haven't been here for a long time," said Walter wearily. - -"Not since you left for the seaside. But I saw Laura at the Baldwins' -a week ago. Laura, you are not going?" - -Miss Mason, who had changed colour while her lover was speaking, and -had not taken her eyes from his face, was by this time half-way to the -door. - -"I must go," she said rapidly. "I have something to do. I shall see -you again." - -"When?" asked Calvert, detaining her at the door. - -"I shall write and let you know," said Laura, and abruptly withdrawing -her hand from his, she escaped. - -Arnold returned to his seat near Fane with a puzzled expression. - -"What is the matter?" he asked, and there was an apprehensive look in -his eyes. - -Fane also looked nervous, but that was scarcely to be wondered at, -considering the late events. - -"I suppose Julia has been going on at her about you," he said -fretfully. "I wish you'd marry her right away and take her from Julia. -Poor Laura has a bad time." - -"I am not in a position to do so now," said Calvert gloomily; "things -are bad with me. This play has not been a success, and I'll be out of -an engagement soon." - -"Laura has money for you both," said Fane. - -Arnold flushed to the roots of his fair hair. - -"I do not intend to live on my wife," he said sharply. "Until I can -keep her in the style to which she has been accustomed, I will not -marry her." - -Fane laughed rather weakly. - -"As things stand at present there is not much chance of your becoming -a wealthy man," he said. - -"Perhaps. And yet I don't know. I may come in for money." - -"Really!" said Walter with interest; "some relative?" - -Arnold nodded. "A cousin on my mother's side. A man called Brand." - -Fane, who had been listening quietly, started from his seat. - -"What!" - -"A man called Brand. He lives in Australia, and is very rich. I think -the money will come to me, or to a cousin of mine--a woman." - -Fane was quiet again by this time. "I knew a man called Brand once. He -was a scoundrel who cheated me out of a lot of money. A young man he -was, with green eyes." - -"Can't be any relative of mine," said Calvert. "I never saw my cousin -in Australia, but he looks a kindly man from his portrait. Not at all -the sort to have green eyes. As to Flora's eyes, they are brown." - -"Flora," said Fane idly; "what a pretty name! Who is she?" - -"The cousin I told you of. The money may come to her. She lives at -Hampstead, but I have never been to her house." - -"How is that?" - -"I only became aware of her existence some months ago," said Arnold -lightly. "We met by chance, and--but it's a long story. But we learned -that we were relations, and I promised to call." - -"But you didn't?" - -"No. Something always came in the way. But I dare say if Flora came in -for the money she would help me. I might chuck the stage, and get a -start--read for the bar, perhaps. Then I could marry Laura." - -"Have you any capabilities for the bar?" asked Fane. "For instance, -what do you think of this murder?" - -Arnold threw up his hand. - -"Don't ask me," he said abruptly; "I have heard nothing else discussed -but that murder for days. I am perfectly sick of it. What is your -opinion?" - -"I don't know--I haven't one. The whole thing is a mystery to me. All -I know is that the death in this room has so sickened me, that I -intend to give up the villa and go abroad to Switzerland." - -"An inland place. That will rather interfere with your yachting." - -"Before Fane could answer, the door opened, and Mrs. Fane, serene as -ever, entered with an evening paper in her hand. She started a trifle -when she saw Arnold, but bowed gracefully. - -"So pleased to see you," she said with conventional falseness. "I must -send Laura to you. She is dying to see you." - -"I have seen her, Mrs. Fane. I am now going away." - -"Oh!" Mrs. Fane smiled agreeably. "You have quarrelled." - -"No, but----" - -"Never mind--never mind!" interrupted Walter irritably. "What is the -matter, Julia?" - -"She laid her cool hand on his head. - -"How hot your brow is," she said soothingly. "You have never been -yourself since this horrid murder." - -"We agreed not to talk of it again," said Fane, moving his head from -under her hand. - -"I fear we must," said his wife, sitting down. "Don't go, Mr. Calvert. -This is no secret. Merely a paragraph in the paper." - -"Have they found out anything?" asked Arnold quietly. - -"Well, it seems to be a sort of a clue. This room, you know----" - -"This room!" Both men looked round the White Room, and then at one -another. Finally both pairs of eyes were fixed on Mrs. Fane's face. - -"Yes," she said calmly. "I need not read the paragraph. The gist of it -is that the police have received a letter stating that there is a room -like this in a house at Hampstead." - -"At Hampstead?" said Calvert, advancing a step. - -"Yes. It belongs to a Mr. Brand." - -"Brand!" said Fane, looking at Calvert. "Why, that is the name you -mentioned just now!" - -"Yes," said the young man with an effort. "I have a cousin called -Flora Brand." - -"Dear me," said Mrs. Fane in her cold way. "I wonder if she can be the -miserable creature who was murdered in this room." - -"Julia!" Fane started to his feet. "What do you mean?" - -"Don't grow excited, my dear," she replied in her soothing tones. "But -it seems that Mrs. Brand has disappeared. The writer of the letter -doesn't describe her to the police; but inquiries are being made. -Perhaps she may be the dead woman. How strange that she should have -died in this room, when she has one of her own furnished exactly the -same. This room was your own idea, Walter?" - -"Yes," he replied, looking puzzled, "my own idea. And I don't know -Mrs. Brand. How came she to have a similar room?" - -Arnold took up his hat. - -"I'll find that out," he said. - -When he left the room, husband and wife looked at one another. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -THE OTHER WHITE ROOM - - -Coleridge Lane, Hampstead, was named after the great poet, who had -once resided in the neighbourhood. If he lived in this special -locality, he could not have found it congenial to his Muse, for the -crooked, winding, sloping passage could hardly be called a lane, much -less a road. Also, it was damp by reason of the ancient trees that -nearly met overhead. On either side were small cottages standing -amidst weedy gardens, the survivals of a far-off age, when a wide view -and careful drainage were not considered as necessary to any human -habitation. An air of melancholy hung over the place, and only because -the rents were low did the cottages contain tenants. - -Before the gate of one of these cottages stood Inspector Derrick one -summer's morning. He was in private clothes, and looked, as usual, -smart and alert. With a sharp look on his stern face he stared at the -damp, discoloured walls of the cottage, which matched with a -moss-grown thatched roof. Yet, in spite of the apparent decay of the -house, there was evidence that the occupier had some idea of tidiness -and comfort. The garden was well weeded, and filled with homely -cottage flowers now in full bloom. A green-painted fence divided the -garden from the lane, and there was a narrow gate which bore the name -"Fairy Lodge." The windows were draped with lace curtains tied with -smart pink ribbons. The brass door-knocker was well polished, and the -step thoroughly whitewashed. Apparently the landlord would not, and -the tenant could not, renovate the cottage, but much had been done to -render it a little less melancholy than the neighbouring houses. - -Derrick stood enjoying the cool breeze and sunshine on that bright -morning, and wondering if the person he had appointed to meet him -there would come. It was already five minutes past the hour of -eleven, so the person was late. But even while the inspector looked -at his watch, the individual appeared. He was an old man, thin and -weather-worn, dressed in shabby clothes, and looking as though he had -not enough to eat. He appeared to be almost as shabby as the -neighbourhood, and hobbled towards Derrick coughing, and limping with -the aid of a stout stick. As soon as he came within eyeshot--for his -sight did not seem to be good--he halted mistrustfully. Derrick, -guessing that he was the man who was to meet him, advanced. "You are -Mr. Webb?" said he briskly. - -"I might be," returned the old fellow cautiously, "if you are Mr. -Derrick I wrote to at a certain place." - -"I am Inspector Derrick, and I come in answer to your letter about -Mrs. Brand and the White Room." - -"Will there be any reward for my setting the police on the track?" -asked Webb cunningly. - -"Well, I can hardly say. Mr. Fane, in whose house this woman was -murdered, promised to recompense me should I discover anything likely -to lead to the detection of the assassin. I dare say he will give me a -hundred pounds." - -"Halves," said the old man, coughing, "or I don't let you in." - -"I fear you won't be able to stop me," said Derrick, smiling. "On the -strength of your letter I procured a search-warrant. I represent the -law, you see. You should have made a bargain before you wrote the -letter, Mr. Webb." - -"Rogues, thieves, and liars, the lot of you," said the old man, -striking the ground violently with his stick. "What about my rent?" - -"I don't owe you any. Did this woman?" - -"No. She's paid me up to date. But here's my cottage without a tenant. -I'll find it difficult to let it again, if she was done to death as -the papers said." - -"We don't know that Mrs. Brand is the same woman." - -"Well, Mrs. Brand hasn't been seen since the day that crime took -place," retorted Webb, "and then there's the room, you know." - -"Ah! I want to see the room. It is strange she should have been killed -in a room similar to that occupied by herself. I can't understand it." - -"If you made it worth my while I might assist you. I am poor; oh! how -poor I am. Look at my clothes. You wouldn't pick them off a -dunghill--not you. And I live on sausages. They're cheap, but not -filling. Do you know of anything that taken at one meal would keep me -going for a week?" - -"No," said Derrick abruptly, and thinking the old man a queer -character. "Show me the house." - -"All in good time," said the ancient, hobbling to the gate. "Ah!" He -wheeled round and shook his fist at a butcher's boy. "Hear that brat. -Why don't you run him in for insulting language?" - -"Miser! miser!" chanted the boy, leering across the lane at the old -creature, who shook his fist in impotent rage. "Golly, what clothes. -Say, mister"--this was to Derrick--"if I come across to deliver the -meat, will you stop the old cove from pitching into me?" - -"I'll bash your head, you imp," yelled Webb, quivering with rage. - -"Leave him alone," said Derrick good-humouredly. "Boys will be boys. -Now then, young shaver, come along!" - -But the boy declined. He darted across the road, thrust a chop into -the inspector's hand, and darted back. "You give it to Mrs. Brand, -governor," said the boy, grinning; "the old cove's got his bleary eye -on yours truly." - -"Beast of a boy," said Webb, and entering the gate he hobbled up to -the door. - -Derrick lingered behind, and produced a shilling. "See here, boy," he -remarked persuasively, "do you deliver meat to Mrs. Brand every day?" - -"Every second day," said the boy advancing, lured by the shilling. - -"Has the meat been taken in as usual?" - -"No, it ain't. Not for over a week. Nearly a fortnight, you might -say. I brings them though--the chops, I mean--and puts them in the -meat-safe at the back of the house. There's lots there, but she ain't -bin home to eat them." - -"When did you last see her?" - -"Over a fortnight ago," said the boy, counting on his fingers, -and apparently not very sure as to his dates. "On a Thursday that -was. She took the chop in as usual. On Saturday I brought a steak -late--somewhere about six--so that it might be quite fresh for Sunday, -and she wasn't in. Ain't seen her since. Say, mister, if y' know her, -say as master 'ull charge her for the meat. It's her own fault she -ain't eaten it." - -"Why didn't she leave a servant in charge?" - -"Too poor," said the boy, taking the shilling and spitting on it for -luck. "She always did the housework herself. But she was a real lady -for all that. Say, mister"--the boy stared--"nothing ain't gone wrong -with her?" - -"No. I merely called to see her." - -"Well, she ain't at home as I can see. There ain't no smoke coming -from the chimney, though to be sure she may be saving the coals. I -thought the miser might have done away with her. He's an old rip as -ought to be in gaol. I saw him making eyes at her." - -"Ah! Then Mrs. Brand is a pretty woman?" - -"Yes, in a kind of delicate sort of way. Brown hair and blue eyes and -pale and little. Looked like a widder," said the boy confidentially, -"but she wasn't. Bless you, no! Her husband's a commercial gent as -comes home every now and then. But he's away for the most part of the -time." - -"Have you ever seen him?" - -"In the dark I did. A tall gent. But I can't tell you his looks." - -"You are a smart boy," said Derrick, taking out his note-book. "I -should like to see more of you." - -"My name's Potter," said the boy, grinning at this praise. "I work for -old Rams the butcher." - -"Ah, I know the shop," said Derrick, noting this. "I once lived in -Hampstead, and dealt with Mr. Rams." - -"My, ain't he sharp over the money. But Mrs. Brand always paid up like -a lady. Guess the miser got his rent." - -"Webb hailed Derrick at this moment. Are you going to talk to that -brat all day, officer?" he inquired shrilly, peering out of the open -door. - -At the word "officer" Potter backed with a look of apprehension. "I -say, you're a peeler. Lor! Anything wrong?" - -"No," said Derrick, vexed at being thus betrayed. "Hold your tongue -about this conversation. I'll make it worth your while." - -"I'm fly," said Master Potter, with a whistle and an easier look. He -showed a disposition to linger at the gate; but Derrick ordered him -sway sharply, and he departed, casting looks over his shoulder, too -amazed at his discovery of Derrick's profession to call old Webb bad -names. Derrick went inside. - -"If Mr. Brand arrives I can show him this as my authority for entering -the cottage," said Derrick, displaying a search-warrant. - -"Brand! Mrs. Brand?" - -"Mister! The husband." - -"Never saw him," grumbled Webb. "Mrs. Brand said she had one, but she -paid the rent and looked after the house, and kept very much to -herself. I never set eyes on him." - -"He's a commercial traveller," the boy said. - -"The boy's a liar," retorted the agreeable Mr. Webb. "Mrs. Brand was -too much the lady to marry a commercial. She used to talk of her -husband, but she never let on his employment." - -"Did she rent the cottage in her own name?" - -"Yes. I don't believe she had a husband." - -"What reference did she give." - -"Six months' rent in advance. Stop! She did refer me to a -schoolmaster." - -"A schoolmaster? What is his name?" - -"Professor Bocaros." - -"A professor--of what?" - -"Lord," said Webb testily, "how do I know? Any one can call themselves -professors if they've a mind to--especially foreigners." - -Derrick, who was standing in the small hall, started, and remembered -what Miss Mason had said when he mentioned the stiletto. "Is this -professor a foreigner?" he asked eagerly. - -"A Greek. Bocaros means bull's head or bull's tail--at least it did -when I was at school. Ah! I've been educated, though you mightn't -think so, Mister Inspector." - -Derrick passed over this remark. "Did you see this man?" - -"No. My time's too valuable to run after foreigners. I wrote to him at -the address given by Mrs. Brand. She said he was a cousin of hers. He -wrote back saying that she was a respectable person. I dare say she -was, but I don't believe she had a husband. If she had, why didn't he -show? A commercial gent! Bah! Don't tell me." - -"What address did Mrs. Brand give you?" - -"Now that's queer. She gave me Ulysses Street, Troy!" - -This time Derrick could not suppress an exclamation. "Why, that is -only a stone-throw from Achilles Avenue. It's near Meadow Lane." - -"I said it was queer," remarked Webb, nodding. "Perhaps he did her to -death. What do you think?" - -"I think you may have put a clue into my hand," said the inspector, -noting the address in his useful little book. "Don't speak of this to -any one. I'll make it worth your while." - -"Halves," said the miser again; "though it's only fifty pounds. I -think Mr.--what's his name?--Fane should give me the whole hundred." - -"Oh, indeed." Derrick put the book into his pocket. "And what about -me, Mr. Webb, if you please?" - -"You're paid for finding criminals, I ain't," said Webb, entering a -side door. "Come and look at the room. My time's valuable. I can't -stand talking to you all day. The drawing-room this is." - -"Ha!" Derrick stood at the door, and looked at the small room, which -was furnished in the same fashion as the larger one in Ajax Villa, -though not in so costly a manner. The walls and hangings were white, -the carpet and furniture also, and even the piano was cased in white -wood. In all respects, save in the way of luxury, the room was the -same. It was strange that Mrs. Brand should have been killed in a room -similar to her drawing-room, and in a house situated at the other end -of London. "Though we don't know if the dead woman is Mrs. Brand," -said Derrick, looking round. - -"That's easily settled," said Webb, who had taken up his position in a -cane chair. "There's her portrait." - -On the mantel-piece were two silver frames, one on either side of a -gimcrack French clock. The frame to the left contained the photograph -of a pretty slight woman, in whom Derrick immediately recognised the -dead unknown. "That's her sure enough," said he, taking a long look. -"I wonder how she came to die in a room similar to this," and he -glanced around again. "The mystery is growing deeper every discovery I -make. What of the other silver frame?" - -"It's got the photograph of a man--the husband, I suppose." - -"No." Derrick took down the frame. "The photograph has been removed." - -"Lord!" said Webb, when a close examination assured him of this fact. -"Why, so it has. But she showed it to me one day when I asked about -Mr. Brand, and said it was his picture." - -"Do you remember what the man was like in looks?" said the inspector, -replacing the frame, much disappointed. - -"No," replied the old man; "my eyesight's that bad as I can hardly -tell A from B. It was the picture of a bearded man." - -"A pointed beard?" - -"I can't say. He had a beard, that's all I know. Mrs. Brand said that -his business took him away a good deal. But she didn't say he was a -commercial gent." - -"Did Mrs. Brand, go out much?" - -"Not at all. I told you so before. She kept very much to herself, in a -haughty kind of way. Thought herself a fine lady, I suppose, and -there's no denying she was a lady. She has been my tenant for over -five years, and always paid regular, but she knew no one, and when any -one called she never would let them in. I only got to know of this -room because I came for my rent." - -"Did she pay her bills regularly?" - -"Yes. I asked that, being fearful for my rent. She always paid up like -a lady. Not that she took much in. Generally she lived by herself, so -didn't eat much, keeping no servant either." - -"Did she ever go out to concerts or theatres or anywhere?" - -"When her husband came home she used to enjoy herself. I believe she -went to the opera, or to concerts, being fond of music." - -"Ah!" Derrick recalled the song. "Did she sing?" - -"Not that I ever heard of. She told me very little about herself, and -what I know I had to drag out of her. She came five years ago and took -this cottage by herself. Afterwards her husband, as she called him, -came. I never saw him, and she always paid her rent regularly. That's -all I know." - -"Why do you think Mr. Brand was not her husband?" - -"I never said he wasn't. I don't know. She seemed a respectable -person, and was very quiet in her living and dress. Sometimes she shut -up the cottage and went away for a week." - -"Always for a week?" - -"Yes. She never was absent long. I suppose she and her husband had a -jaunt all to themselves. She had no children. But ain't you going to -look at the rest of the house?" - -"Yes." Derrick cast his eyes round the room again. On the round white -wood table was a photograph album bound in white leather. He opened -this, and found that all the portraits therein--the book was only half -full--were those of women. Several were of Mrs. Brand as child and -girl and woman. Spaces showed that five or six portraits had been -removed. Derrick noted this, and then left the drawing-room -thoughtfully. It seemed to him as though all the male portraits had -been removed on purpose. And the chances were that in an album -belonging to the wife, portraits of the husband might be found. At the -door of the white room he cast his eyes on the ground. "Has it been -raining?" he asked. - -Webb, who was already in the passage, came back, and stared at the -footmarks--muddy footmarks which were printed on the white carpet. -"It's not been raining for over a week," he said. "Strange that there -should be this mess. Mrs. Brand was always a particularly tidy woman. -She never let a spot of dirt remain in this room." - -"We've had a dry summer," said Derrick, pinching his lip. - -"Very dry," assented Webb. "To be sure, there was that big -thunderstorm eight days ago." - -"And before that we had three weeks of sunshine." - -"Yes." The old man stared. "What of that?" - -"It seems to me----" said Derrick; then he paused, and shook his head. -"Let us examine the rest of the house." - -Webb, not knowing what was passing in the officer's mind, stared again -and hobbled round as cicerone. They went to the small kitchen, to the -one bedroom, to the tiny dining-room, and examined the small -conservatory opening out of this last. At the back of the house there -was a small garden filled with gaudy sunflowers and tall hollyhocks. -The red brick walls which enclosed the plot of ground scarcely larger -than a handkerchief were draped with ivy, carefully trimmed and -tended. The conservatory was filled with cheap flowers neatly ranged. -Apparently Mrs. Brand, judging by the conservatory and the back and -front gardens, was fond of flowers, and made it the pleasure of her -life to tend them. - -The kitchen and the dining-room were plainly furnished. In the -meat-safe outside the back door were the chops and steaks left by the -butcher's boy, and also loaves of bread. A milk-can was on the ground -and empty, showing that probably all the cats in the place had been -enjoying themselves. Derrick found that a narrow passage between the -enclosing wall and the house led from the front garden to the back. -Having assured himself of this, he re-entered the house, and examined -the bedroom. - -This was better furnished than the rest of the house. There was a -smart dressing-table decked with muslin and pink ribbons. On it were -articles of female toilette. Several dresses (plain for the most part) -were hanging up in the wardrobe, and there was a warm but untrimmed -dressing-gown in the bathroom. But Derrick could not see any male -apparel, and pointed this out to Webb. - -"Perhaps Mr. Brand wasn't her husband after all," said the old man. -"He may have been a friend of hers, and came here occasionally. But he -didn't live here." - -"The boy said he did sometimes." - -"The boy's a liar," said Webb vindictively. - -"Hum! I don't know that. I have an idea." - -"Of what?" - -"I'll tell you directly." Derrick opened all the drawers in the -bedroom. He found linen, hats, handkerchiefs, ribbons--all articles of -female attire, but again nothing appertaining to a man's dress. - -"Where's her desk?" he asked abruptly. - -"In the white room. I was sitting near it." - -"The inspector, having searched the bedroom again to see if he could -find any papers, led the way back to the drawing-room. The desk was -near the window, and unlocked; that is, it opened easily enough, and -Derrick thought it was unlocked. But a glance showed him that the lock -was broken. The desk has been forced," he said, and threw wide the -lid, "and the contents have been removed," he added. - -Webb stared at the empty desk. There were a few bundles of receipted -bills, some writing-paper and envelopes, and a stick or two of red -sealing-wax. But no scrap of writing was there to reveal anything -about Mrs. Brand. Yet on a knowledge of her past depended the -discovery of the reason she had been stabbed in Troy. The inspector -looked at the desk, at the floor, and drew his own conclusions. "Some -one has been here eight days ago, and has removed all papers and -pictures likely to give a clue to the past of this woman and to the -identity of the husband." - -"How do you know?" asked Webb, startled. - -Derrick pointed to the muddy marks on the carpet. "The fact that the -carpet is white betrays the truth," said he. "For the last month or -so, that is, before and since the murder, we have had only one -storm--that was eight days ago. The person who removed the portraits -from the album and from the silver frame, who forced the desk and -destroyed the papers, came on that day----" - -"The thunderstorm was at night," interrupted Webb. - -"Then at night, which would be the better concealment of his purpose. -He came here with mud on his boots, as is proved by these marks. He -wished to remove all evidence of Mr. Brand's identity. Therefore----" - -"Well," said Webb, seeing that Derrick hesitated. "I believe that -Brand himself did so, and that Brand is the man who killed his wife in -Ajax Villa." - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -PROFESSOR BOCAROS - - -Mrs. Baldwin always called herself an unlucky woman, and lamented that -she had to undergo misfortunes heavier than those of other people. But -in truth she was better off than her laziness and grumbling deserved. -Her income was small but sure, and if she lived unhappily, with her -second husband the fault was hers. The man grew weary of her -inattention to domestic comfort, and to her constant lamentations. It -said a great deal for the absent Mr. Baldwin that he had lived with -this slattern for so many years. The most sensible thing he ever did -in his life was when he left her. - -On losing him Mrs. Baldwin had taken up her abode in Cloverhead Manor -House, and obtained it at a low rent. She would not have got it so -cheap, but that in those days Troy was only beginning to gather round -the ancient village. Mrs. Baldwin, in spite of her laziness, was -clever enough to foresee that land would increase in value, and bought -the acres upon which the manor stood. The former owner, the last -member of a decayed family, had sold the land gladly enough, as he -obtained from Mrs. Baldwin a larger price than was offered by the -classic jerry-builder, who was responsible for the modern suburb. -Since then the value of the land--as was anticipated by Mrs. -Baldwin--had increased, and many speculators offered large sums to buy -it. But Mrs. Baldwin was too lazy to make another move. She enjoyed -pigging it in the large roomy house, and quite resolved not to move -until the children were settled in life. She then proposed to sell the -land, and use the money "to take her proper station in society," -whatever that meant. And she was cunning enough to know that the land -would increase still more in value. There were the makings of a -business woman in Mrs. Baldwin had she not been so incorrigibly lazy. - -"But I really can't move," sighed Mrs. Baldwin when approached on the -subject by Gerty, who was businesslike and speculative. "Heaven knows -I can hardly get through the day's work with my bad health. Besides, -there is the professor to be considered. Such a nice man. If I were -only sure that Rufus was dead I might consent to take him." - -This was sheer vanity on the part of the lazy fat woman, as the -professor had no intention of asking her to become Mrs. Bocaros. He -was a bachelor by nature, and passed his life in study. Holding a -small post in a suburban college where he taught foreign languages, he -just managed to keep his head above water. For the sake of peace, and -because he hated a boarding-house, the professor wanted a home to -himself. When Mrs. Baldwin came to Cloverhead she had a tiny cottage -on her estate at the foot of the meadow at the back of the -manor-house. It was surrounded by pines, and lying near a small stream -which overflowed whenever there was rain, being therefore extremely -damp. She had no idea of letting it, but on meeting Bocaros at a -scholastic "At Home" she learned of his desire, and offered him the -place. He accepted it eagerly, and for some years had been Mrs. -Baldwin's tenant. - -The professor was a quiet neighbour. He kept no servant, and did the -work himself. The cottage possessed but two rooms, one of which was -used as a kitchen, and the other as a dining-room, a bedroom, a study, -and a reception-room. This last was large and airy and damp, but the -professor loved it because of the solitude. He cherished a tranquil -life above all things, and certainly found it in "The Refuge," as he -called his tiny domicile. Through the pines he could see the country -dotted with red brick villas, the outposts of London, for Troy was one -of the last additions to the great city, and its surroundings were -almost rural. Beside the stream grew stunted alders and tall poplars. -There was no fence round the place. It was clapped down on the verge -of the meadow, and girdled with the pines. A more isolated hermitage -it is impossible to conceive. Tracey, who sometimes came to see -Bocaros, for whose learning he had a great respect, advised draining -the place, but Bocaros was obstinate. "It will last my time," he said -in his rather precise way; "and I may not live here for many years." - -"Do you intend to leave then?" asked Tracey. - -"I might. There is a chance I may inherit money, and then I would live -in Switzerland." - -"That's where the anarchists dwell," said Tracey, wondering if this -queer-looking foreigner was a member of some secret society. - -Professor Bocaros--he obtained his title from a Greek College, as he -stated--was certainly odd in his appearance. He was tall and lean and -lank, apparently made of nothing but bones. Rheumatism in this damp -spot would have had a fine field to rack Bocaros, but he never seemed -to be ill. Always dressed in black broadcloth, rather worn, he looked -like an undertaker, and moved with quite a funereal step. His face was -of the fine Greek type, but so emaciated that it looked like a -death's-head. With his hollow cheeks, his thin red lips, his high bald -forehead, and the absence of beard and moustache, Bocaros was most -unattractive. The most remarkable feature of his face was his eyes. -These, under shaggy black brows, seemed to blaze like lamps. However -weak and ill the man looked, his blazing eyes showed that he was full -of vitality. Also, his lean hands could grip firmly, and his long legs -took him over the ground at a surprising rate. Yet he ate little, and -appeared to be badly nourished. Tracey, to whom Bocaros was always a -source of wonder and constant speculation, confided to Gerty that he -believed the professor was possessed of some restorative which served -instead of food. On the whole, there was an air of mystery about the -man which provoked the curiosity of the lively, inquisitive American. -It would have inspired curiosity with many people also, had not -Bocaros lived so retired a life. The Baldwin children called his house -"Ogre Castle," and invented weird tales of the professor eating little -children. - -"I shouldn't wonder if he was a vampire of sorts," said Tracey. "He -don't live on air, and the food in that Mother Hubbard's cupboard of -his wouldn't keep a flea in condition." - -"I don't believe in much eating myself," Mrs. Baldwin responded, -although she never gave her inside a rest, and was always-chewing like -a cow. "Abstinence keeps the brain clear." - -"And over-abstinence kills the body," retorted Tracey. - -Whatever Bocaros may have thought of the murder, he said very little -about it. He never took in a paper himself, but was accustomed to -borrow the _Daily Budget_ from Mrs. Baldwin when that lady had -finished the court news, the only part of the paper she took any -interest in. Usually after his return from the school where he taught, -Bocaros came across the meadows by a well-defined path, and asked for -the journal. This was usually between four and five o'clock, and then -he would have a chat with Mrs. Baldwin. But two or three weeks after -the Ajax Villa tragedy, when the professor tore along the path--he -always walked as though he were hurrying for a doctor--he met Tracey -half-way. The American had the newspaper in his hand. - -"Coming for this, I guess," said Tracey, handing over the journal. "I -was just bringing it to you. There's a question or two I wish to ask. -You don't mind, do you?" - -Bocaros fixed his brilliant eyes on the other. "What is the question, -my friend?" he demanded in English, which hardly bore a trace of -foreign accent. - -The American did not reply directly. "You're a clever sort of smart -all-round go-ahead colleger," said Tracey, taking the thin arm of the -man, an attention which Bocaros did not appreciate, "and I want to ask -your opinion about this murder." - -"I know nothing about murders, my friend. Why not go to the police?" - -"The police!" Tracey made a gesture of disgust. "They ain't worth a -cent. Why, about three weeks have gone by since that poor girl was -stabbed, and they don't seem any nearer the truth than they were." - -"We discussed this before," said Bocaros, as they approached the belt -of pines, "and I told you that I could form no theory. My work lies -amidst languages. I am a philologist, my friend, and no detective." - -"I guess you'd pan out better than the rest of them if you were." - -"You flatter me." Bocaros removed his arm, and inserted a large key -into the lock of his door. "Will you come in?" - -"You don't seem very set on chin-music, but I'll come," said Tracey, -who, when bent on obtaining anything, never rested till he achieved -his purpose. - -Bocaros gave a gentle sigh, which a more sensitive man might have -taken as a sign that his company was not wanted at that precise -moment. But Tracey would not go, so he had to be admitted. He entered -the room, which was lined with books, and furnished otherwise in a -poor manner, and threw himself into the one armchair. Then he took out -a cigarette-case. "Have one," he said, extending this. - -"A pipe, my friend, will please me better," replied Bocaros, and -filled a large china pipe, which he must have obtained when he was a -German student. He then took a seat with his back towards the window, -and intimated that he was ready. - -"See here!" said Tracey, opening the newspaper and pointing to a -paragraph; "read that!" - -"Is it about the murder?" asked Bocaros, puffing gently at his pipe. - -"Yes. That fool of a Derrick has made a discovery of some value." - -"In that case he cannot be a fool, my friend," replied Bocaros, -leaning back his head and inhaling the smoke luxuriously. "Tell me -what the paper says. I can't read while you talk, and I am sure you -will not be silent for five minutes." - -"That's a fact," said Tracey coolly. "I've got a long tongue and an -inquiring mind. I shan't read the paragraph. But it seems that -he--Derrick, I mean--has found out the woman's name." - -"How interesting!" said Bocaros, unmoved and in rather a bored tone. -"How did he find it out?" - -"Well, some one wrote from Hampstead," said Tracey, throwing the paper -aside, and giving the gist of his information, "and let out there was -a woman who lived in Coleridge Lane who had a white room, same as that -she was murdered in." - -"Coleridge Lane!" repeated Bocaros, opening his eyes. "I know some one -living there. What is this woman's name?" - -"The inspector," continued Tracey, taking no notice of this direct -question, "went to see this room. He found the house shut up. The -landlord had the key, and with the landlord he entered. He found, as -was stated, a room similar in all respects to the one in Ajax Villa, -though the furniture was poor. More than that, there was a portrait on -the mantel-piece of the woman who was murdered." - -"You can give me the details afterwards," said Bocaros hastily. "At -present I want to know the woman's name." - -"Keep your hair on, professor. Her name is Brand." - -Bocaros rose from his chair and, dropping his pipe, threw up his hands -with a foreign ejaculation. "Brand! Flora Brand?" - -"Yes. How do you come to know her front name?" - -"She is my cousin," said the professor, and sat down to cover his face -with his hands. - -Tracey whistled, and stared. In making the communication to the man, -he was far from expecting that this announcement would be made. "I -guess you know who killed her then?" he observed coolly. Bocaros -leaped to his feet. "Man," he cried fiercely, "what is that you say? -How should I know who killed her?" - -"You're her cousin, and Derrick says in the woman's past life will be -found the motive for the crime." - -"I know very little of my cousin's past life," said Bocaros, walking -rapidly to and fro, and apparently much moved. "What I do know I shall -tell to the police." - -"Tell it to me now," suggested the American. - -The professor looked at him mistrustfully. "I don't know if you are a -good person to make a confidant of." - -"Bless you, there's no confidence about this, professor. You'll have -to tell the police what you know, and they'll put it all in print." - -"True! True!" Bocaros took a turn up and down the room, then passed -his lean hand through his long hair. "Mr. Tracey, you are a clever -man. I can rely on you to help me." - -"Help you!" Tracey looked sharply at the professor. "What's that?" - -"I mean help me with the police. I am not accustomed to deal with -these matters. They will ask me questions." - -"Well, what if they do? You can answer them, I reckon." - -"Yes, yes. But you know how suspicious the police are." - -"They may be in foreign lands where you hail from. But I guess they're -too pig-headed here to think much." - -"This woman--Flora--was murdered in Ajax Villa. It is only a short -distance from my house. They may think----" - -"That you killed her? That's rubbish. It's queer, certainly, that she -should have come to end her life in that way so near to your shanty, -but there's not much chance of the police accusing you. Did you know -Fane in any way?" - -"I never even heard of him." - -"Not from Miss Mason? You know her?" - -"I have only spoken half a dozen words to her," said Bocaros, twisting -his hands together. "You know how shy I am. Your lady----" - -"Gerty B.," put in Tracey. - -"Yes, Miss Baldwin. She introduced me to Miss Mason. But we had little -speech together. Your young lady might have mentioned the name of -Fane, but I forget--I forget." And Bocaros passed his hand over his -brow again. "You know how absent I am." - -"Yes, yes," said Luther Tracey soothingly, for he saw that the man was -growing excited. "You lie down and go slow. Tell me about this cousin -of yours." - -"She is my first cousin," explained Bocaros, sitting down, and keeping -himself down by the strongest of efforts. "My father's sister married -a man called Calvert, and----" - -"Calvert! Why, that's the name of the man Miss Mason's going to be -married to!" - -"Is it?" The professor stared. "I never knew. Flora told me that her -father's brother had a son called Arnold." - -"That's the name. He's an actor at one of the big shows. Arnold -Calvert. You must have heard of him." - -"Never as an actor." - -"Well, I guess he's not got much of a reputation. Just now he's acting -in a piece at the Frivolity Theatre. _The Third Man_ is the name of -the piece. I don't think much of it myself, or of him as----" - -Bocaros threw up a protesting hand. "We have more important things to -talk about than this young man." - -"Well, I don't know. It's queer that he should be the cousin of the -woman who was killed in the house of the brother-in-law of the girl -he's engaged to. Do you know Calvert?" - -"No; I never met him. Listen, Mr. Tracey. I came to England some five -or six years ago very poor, as I am now. Here Bocaros looked round his -study with a dreary air. I have heard my father talk of his sister who -married a man called Calvert, and I had the address. I found my aunt -dead, and her daughter Flora just preparing to move from the house -where they had lived for a long time. She had very little money, and -told me she was going to be married." - -"To a man called Brand?" - -"Yes. I never saw her husband. Flora told me of our other relatives. -She gave me a little money, and then dismissed me. I did not see her -again. But she wrote to me from Coleridge Lane asking me to give my -name as a reference for her respectability. She wanted to take a house -there----'Fairy Lodge' I think it is called." - -"That's the house," said Tracey, with a glance at the paper. "Well?" - -"Well, I sent the reference, and she never wrote again. Then over a -month ago I received a letter from some lawyers. They stated that Mrs. -Brand had come in for a large fortune, and that she intended next year -to allow me an income." - -"So you've lost by her death?" - -Bocaros sprang to his feet with a wild look. "That's just where it -is," he exclaimed. "I don't know that I haven't gained." - -"As how?" asked Tracey, looking puzzled. - -"When I got the lawyers' letter," proceeded Bocaros,--"the name of the -firm is Laing and Merry--I wrote to Flora, thanking her. She asked me -to call. I did so----" - -"Hallo!" interrupted Tracey; "you said just now you never saw her -again after your interview years ago." - -"I meant at that time. Four or five years elapsed between the time I -saw her. I am not good at dates, but I never saw her for years. All my -life I have only had two interviews. One was when I came to this -country; the other when, shortly before her death, I called to see her -at Coleridge Lane. She received me very kindly, and stated that she -intended to leave me the money. In fact that she had made a will in my -favour." - -Tracey stared. Here was a motive for the murder, seeing that Bocaros -was desperately poor. Yet he could not see how the professor came to -be mixed up with the actual crime. "How much is the property?" he -asked, after an awkward pause. - -"Ten thousand a year." - -"Great Scott! How lucky for you, professor--her death, I mean." - -"I would rather she had not died," burst out the man passionately. -"It's horrible to think that she should have been murdered in so -barbarous a fashion. You see my position. I live near the house where -the crime was committed. I inherit ten thousand a year, and I am much -in need of money. How do I know but what your police may accuse me of -killing Flora?" - -"They'll have to prove how you got into the house first," said the -American, rather ashamed of his momentary suspicions, since the man -looked at the matter in this fashion. "You lie low, professor. You're -all right, I guess. There's a long difference between inheriting a -large fortune and killing the person to get it." - -"I would not have touched Flora for the universe," cried the -professor. "I saw little of her, but what I saw I liked very much. She -was a gentle, kind little lady, and though so poor she always dressed -well. A most charming lady." - -"Where did she get the ten thousand a year?" - -"From a relative who died in Australia. At our first interview she -stated that she had such a relative, and that it was probable she -would inherit the money. Then she promised to assist me. She -remembered her promise when she came in for the money a month or two -ago. Not only did she promise me an income, but made the will in my -favour. I asked her not to, saying I would be content with a small -annuity. But she said she had already made the will." - -"Why didn't she leave it to her husband?" - -"I can't say. She spoke very little about her husband. He is a -commercial traveller, and was often away. From what I saw in her -manner and looks she was not happy; but she did not complain." - -"Well," said Tracey, rising, "if the husband turns up he'll fight you -for the property, though I don't think he'll show." - -"Why not? He won't give up ten thousand a year." - -"No. But Derrick thinks, as you will see in the paper, that Mrs. Brand -was killed by her husband." - -Bocaros started back. "Horrible! Horrible!" Then piteously, "My -friend, what am I to do?" - -"Take my advice, and go right along to see Laing and Merry. They'll -help you through." And this Bocaros agreed to do. - -"And I will spend the money in hunting for the assassin," said he. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -MRS. BRAND'S WILL - - -The office of Laing and Merry was in Milton Street, on the ground -floor of a dingy pile of buildings. There was only one representative -of the firm, as Laing was dead, and his executors had disposed of the -business to Merry. This gentleman carried on the office work with -three clerks, of which one was his son. At a future date the younger -Merry was to be admitted into the business, and at present was serving -his articles. Merry retained the name of Laing on the office -door-plate, as that gentleman had been a much-respected member of the -profession, and his name inspired confidence. - -Regarding Merry's own name, which was certainly odd, it fitted him -extremely well. He was a stout and rubicund lawyer, not at all -resembling the accepted type. There was nothing dry and solemn about -Merry. He seemed to be a simple sort of person, and clients sometimes -doubted his abilities. But all this cheerfulness was assumed. He -really was as deep as a well, but it was a well wherein Truth did not -reside. Not that Merry did anything likely to get himself struck off -the Rolls. He was far too clever for that. But he was certainly -unscrupulous, and more than a match for the majority of rascals. He -always looked for the worst in a man, but his smile and complacent -fatness disarmed all suspicion of his talents. Many a sharper had -cause to rue trusting to the deceitful appearance of the lawyer. - -Mr. Merry sat alone in a dingy room, the window of which looked out on -to a blank wall. The room was surrounded by black-painted deed-boxes, -and was remarkably dusty. Before the lawyer was a pile of letters -which he intended to answer shortly. But at the present moment he was -looking at yesterday's copy of the _Daily Budget_. It belonged to -Merry junior, and his father had taken it in to read the paragraph -pointed out by his son. It was that which dealt with the finding of -Fairy Lodge, and the identification of Flora Brand with the woman who -had been murdered in Ajax Villa. After mastering the article, Merry -rang the bell, and raised his eyes when his son appeared at the door. - -"Come and sit down, and close the door," said the father. "I wish to -speak about this." - -"Merry junior was a stout young man of twenty-one, quite as -cheerful-looking as his respected progenitor. But he had a pair of -sharp grey eyes which always set people on their guard. For this -reason he was not so successful as his father in dealing with -suspicious clients. In a year Merry hoped to be a full-fledged -solicitor, and then intended to become his father's partner. -Meanwhile, as he was remarkably sharp, and had the firm's interest at -heart, Merry senior frequently consulted him. At the present moment he -intended to discuss the death of Mrs. Brand. - -"I can't understand why you did not show me this yesterday," he said. - -"I never saw it," explained the son. "The fact is, I don't take in -that rag." He pointed disdainfully to the paper. "But I picked it up -in a railway carriage while going home last night, and wrapped a bag -of fruit in it. This morning I happened to use some of the paper while -shaving, and my eyes caught the paragraph. I would have shown it to -you at once, but you had already started for the office. I therefore -saved the torn pieces, and brought it in as soon as I arrived." - -"There's nothing about this death in the other papers," said his -father. - -"No. I remember the case though. The woman was murdered at Ajax Villa, -Troy, and there was a great deal of fuss made over the matter, owing -to the strangeness of the affair. It's queer that the similarity of -the rooms should prove to be the means of identification." - -"You think there can be no doubt about the woman?" - -"Oh, it must be Mrs. Brand. You see, the detective--or is he an -inspector?--identified her by the photograph. There's something behind -all this which I can't understand." - -"You mean about the murder?" - -"Well--yes," said the son. "And about the search made in the house by -this man--what's his name?--Derrick. I wonder he did not find our -letters to Mrs. Brand, and come at once to see us." - -"He has not had time, perhaps." - -"The police do not usually lose time. An hour makes a great difference -to a case of this sort. I wonder who murdered her." - -"I can't say. I merely read the inquest in a casual manner. Had I -known it was Mrs. Brand, I should have come forward," added Merry -senior. "The publicity of the case would have done us good." - -The son reflected. "There's time yet to make a fuss," he said. "We are -responsible for the will of Mrs. Brand. I dare say we can get the heir -to offer a reward. What about the will, father?" - -"I must see after it." Merry senior nodded towards a box. "It's in -there. Queer she didn't leave her money to her husband, Sammy." - -"I don't think she and her husband got on well," said Sammy; "he was -always away." - -"Well, as a commercial traveller----" - -"No, father," interrupted Sammy, with vivacity. "I don't believe he -was. Mrs. Brand didn't strike me as a woman who would marry a -commercial traveller. Did you ever see Mr. Brand?" - -"No," replied the lawyer, without raising his eyes. "Did you?" - -"I never did, although you sent me twice to Mrs. Brand's house on -business. I remember the white room. I wonder it didn't strike me when -I saw the report of the crime. By the way, father, how did Mrs. Brand -come to be our client? It was before I entered the office that she -became our client." - -"Yes." Merry rose and looked out of the window at the blank wall, -which was not an alluring prospect. "Her distant cousin, Arthur Brand -of Australia, sent home money to support Mrs. Brand's mother. When the -mother died, he continued the income to the daughter. What always -struck me as strange," added Merry musingly, "was that Mrs. Brand -should marry a man of the same name as that of her cousin." - -"A coincidence merely, father. Then Arthur Brand died and left the -money to this woman?" - -"Yes. A few months ago. I wrote and asked her to call. When informed -of her good fortune she almost fainted. Then I suggested that she -should bring her husband to me, so that he could attend to the matter -on her behalf. But it seemed that Mr. Brand had departed a month -previously to Australia, for the purpose of looking up Arthur. Mrs. -Brand appeared to think that her husband was some connection, and -wished to make sure." - -"There is another cousin, isn't there?" - -"Yes. Arnold Calvert, an actor." Merry's eyes travelled to the tin -box. "I must write him at once." - -"Why? Has he anything to do with the will?" - -Merry opened his mouth to reply, when a clerk entered with a card. -"Professor Bocaros," read the solicitor, and smiled. "Ah! This is Mrs. -Brand's cousin. He has come to see about the will. You can leave me, -Sammy. And I say, just drop a note to Mr. Calvert at the Frivolity -Theatre asking him to call." - -Sammy nodded, and passed out. As he did so Professor Bocaros stood -aside. Young Merry looked at the lean figure and solemn face of the -Greek, and then at the blazing eyes. He gave his opinion to himself as -the door closed on the client. "I shouldn't like to be in your power," -said Sammy. "I wonder if you inherit." - -Merry shook hands warmly with the professor, and placed a chair for -him. "It's a fine day. I am glad to see you, sir. Your cousin, poor -woman, often spoke of you to us." - -"Did she?" said Bocaros, looking keenly at the genial face of the -lawyer. "That is strange, considering we saw so little of one another. -By the way, your phrase--poor woman--leads me to believe that you have -heard from the police." - -"No. I have read in this paper of the identification of Mrs. Brand -with the woman who was murdered in Troy;" and Merry laid his hand on -the _Daily Budget_. "I suppose you have come to see me about the -matter. How did you learn the news?" - -"In the same way. A friend of mine brought the paper to me." - -"Oh!" Merry looked sharply in his turn. "Did this friend know that you -were Mrs. Brand's cousin?" - -"He did not. I usually get the paper every day from my landlady, Mrs. -Baldwin. I occupy a small house on her estate in Cloverhead----" - -"Where is that, sir?" - -"Near Troy. In fact it is the village around which Troy is built." - -"Oh!" Merry looked surprised. "Do you mean to say you live in Troy?" - -"I do. And not a stone-throw away from the house where poor Flora was -murdered." - -"Flora--ah, Mrs. Brand. I forgot her Christian name for the moment. So -you live there--a strange coincidence," said Merry cautiously. - -"So strange that I have come to ask you what I am to do," said the -professor, in his agitated way. "You will believe me, sir, that I know -nothing of the murder. All I know about it I read in the papers, and -gathered from Mr. Tracey." - -"Who is he?" - -"The engineer whose motor-car was stolen and found in Charing Cross -yard," said Bocaros. "The police said----" - -"I remember. Their theory was that the murderer escaped in the car. -But they didn't prove that at the inquest. Some one else might have -taken the car, though, to be sure, its abandonment in the station yard -looks as though the person merely wished to make use of it for escape. -However, that's not the point. You heard about the crime from Mr. -Tracey?" - -"Yes. And of course I read of it in the papers. But I never knew it -was my cousin till Mr. Tracey brought me the _Daily Budget_ yesterday. -Then I made up my mind to come to you." - -"Why?" asked Merry calmly. - -Bocaros looked surprised. "Why, you wrote to me stating that Mrs. -Brand intended to leave me an annuity." - -"She did intend to do so, but she changed her mind." - -"Yes, I know," said Bocaros, feeling his way carefully, for he was -surprised by Merry's attitude. "When she wrote to me, I went and saw -her. She said she would see that I wanted for nothing, and then she -told me that she had made a will in my favour." - -Merry looked up suddenly. He had been drawing figures on the -blotting-paper, apparently inattentive. But in reality he had lost -nothing of the conversation. Now he looked as though he would read the -heart of the man before him. "Mrs. Brand did make a will in your -favour," he said, "about a week before she died, but----" - -"What do you mean?" asked Bocaros. He was usually pale, but owing to -the significant looks of Mr. Merry, he flushed a deep red. "She told -me about the will, and I want to know--seeing that I live in Troy, and -benefit by her death--if there is any chance of the police suspecting -me?" - -"No," said Merry smoothly. "There is no chance. You don't benefit -under the will." - -Bocaros leaned back in his chair, and changed from red to white. "I--I -confess, sir, I do not understand," he stammered. - -"Mrs. Brand," went on the lawyer smoothly, "came and made a will, -leaving all her money to you. It amounts to ten thousand a year. She -also mentioned the annuity, but after some thought, she said we could -write to you saying she would allow you an income, but privately we -advised her not to bind herself. She did so. We wrote as you know. She -then said that she would pay you the income, as we stated in our -letter, and resolved to leave you her money. In fact we made a will -out to that effect." - -"So she told me," stammered the professor, "and then----" - -"Then she changed her mind like women do. In a few days she came back, -revoked the former will, and made a new one in favour of Arnold -Calvert, if you know who he is." - -"Arnold Calvert!" cried the professor, rising. "The actor?" - -"Yes. I have never seen him act myself; but I hear he is a very good -fellow, and I have no doubt, seeing how you have been disappointed, he -will let you have enough to live on. We have written to Mr. Calvert, -and expect him to call." - -Bocaros sat quite still, though in this speech he saw the downfall of -his hopes. Merry thought that being a foreigner he would break out -into a rage. But Bocaros did nothing of the sort. His face was white, -and he appeared to breathe with difficulty. Then he smiled, and drew a -long breath of relief. "So she has left me nothing," he said. "I am -glad of it." - -"Glad of it!" echoed Merry. - -"Yes. I was fearful lest the police should suspect me of having a hand -in poor Flora's death. Now that she has left me nothing, they can -never think I had any motive to kill her." - -"That's true enough," said Merry, puzzled; "but in any case I don't -see how the police can suspect you. It is true that you live near the -house where Mrs. Brand was murdered. But you no doubt can account for -your actions on that night." - -"No," said Bocaros unhesitatingly; "that's just where the difficulty -comes in. I live alone, and from five o'clock on that day I saw no -one. So far as the police are concerned, it would have been perfectly -easy for me to have killed Mrs. Brand, and have returned to my lonely -house without raising suspicion." - -"There's no need to incriminate yourself," said the lawyer, thinking -Bocaros was slightly touched. "I am quite sure that the police will -think as I do." - -"What is that?" - -"That if you were guilty, you would not be in such a hurry to put -yourself in the wrong." - -"I am not in the wrong; I am innocent." - -"Quite so. Well, there is no good discussing the matter. I suppose you -can throw no light on this strange death?" - -"None. I have told you all I know. But I trust that Mr. Calvert, -seeing he has inherited the money, will take up the matter, and hunt -down the assassin. Thinking I would inherit, I decided to do so -myself." - -"What do you mean?" asked the lawyer coldly, and jealous that the man -should trench upon his province. - -Bocaros looked surprised. "Can't you understand?" he said. "It is my -desire that the assassin of my poor cousin should be caught. I saw the -advertisement of a private inquiry office in the paper, and I went -there before coming to you." - -"Oh indeed," said Merry ironically. "And what did you say?" - -"I told the man I saw--his name is Jasher--of my cousin's death, and -of all the circumstances connected with it. I arranged with him that -he should take up the case. I asked him to see you." - -Merry shook his head. "That might do very well if you were the heir, -professor. But as matters stand, I do not see how you can pay." - -"No," said Bocaros dolefully; "yet I think Calvert should employ this -man, and see what can be done." - -"We will select the man who is to be employed," said Merry sharply. - -"In that case I'll hunt out the matter myself," declared the Greek, -taking up his hat. "I am determined to solve this mystery. Calvert----" - -"You may be sure that we will advise Mr. Calvert to do the right -thing," said Merry, rising in his turn. "He inherits ten thousand a -year, and I expect he will see that the assassin is brought to -justice, if such a thing is possible." - -"It is possible," said Bocaros determinedly. "My poor cousin must have -had some reason to go to that house. I don't know Fane, and I don't -know Brand. But one of these two men killed her." - -"What makes you say that?" asked Merry quickly. - -"It is Jasher's opinion on hearing the case." - -Merry reflected. "Send Jasher to me," he said. "If I approve of the -man, and Mr. Calvert is satisfied, we will employ him to take up the -case. I intend also to write to Inspector Derrick. By the way, can you -tell us of any circumstances in your cousin's life which may hint at -the reason for the committal of this crime?" - -"No. My cousin was a good, pure woman. I know of nothing. But her -death must be avenged. The assassin must be found----" - -"Lest you should be suspected," interposed Merry. - -"That amongst other things," said Bocaros, with dignity. "I am a poor -man, Mr. Merry, but I would give all I possess, which is not much, to -learn the truth." - -"If money can discover the truth, you may be sure the death of Mrs. -Brand will be avenged," said Merry, and held open the door for the -professor to pass through. "By the way, we will speak to Mr. Calvert -about an annuity." - -"No," said Bocaros, colouring, and with an indignant look. "Calvert is -a stranger to me. I do not accept money from strangers. Let him spend -it in learning who killed Flora. The only boon I ask of him is that he -should employ Jasher, seeing that I have given the case to the man -under a misapprehension." - -"Is Jasher a clever man?" - -"Very--so far as I can judge." - -"He seems rather given to jumping to conclusions," said Merry dryly, -"seeing that he accuses Mr. Fane, who proved an _alibi_ at the inquest, -and Mr. Brand, who is away in Australia. If his methods are like that, -I fear he will not do much good." - -"In that case you can employ another man. Here is my address," said -the professor, taking a card from his pocket. "Ask Mr. Calvert to call. -He is sure to be in my neighbourhood, as he is engaged to the -sister-in-law of Mr. Fane." - -He departed, leaving Merry quite stunned by this last piece of -intelligence. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -WHAT THE COOK FOUND - - -Mrs. Fane was seated in the White Room waiting for visitors. As usual -she was knitting, and every now and then glanced at her little girl, -who, washed and dressed and curled and bedecked with ribbons, played -with her doll. The child was very like her father, having the same -pink and white face and weak mouth. She was a pretty, pale creature, -with fair hair, almost white--what the Scots call linty--locks. Never -was there such a contrast as that between mother and child. The mother -firm, majestic, strong, composed; the child weak, restless, delicate, -and undersized. As Mrs. Fane looked at Minnie, she uttered a sigh, -being alone. Had any one been present, she would not have condescended -to such weakness. - -"Just like her father," thought Mrs. Fane, her firm, shapely hands -busy with the needles; "delicate, weak, irresponsible. I almost wish I -had married a strong man. I would have at least had healthy children. -No"--here she shook her head--"it's better as it is. I am my own -mistress and Walter's master. Better as it is." - -This complimentary train of thought was interrupted by its object. -Walter Fane, looking sleepy and dishevelled, entered the room. His -wife, who was richly and carefully dressed, looked at him with a -serene air, not without a touch of contempt. - -"I am expecting visitors," said she, in her calm way. "Don't you think -you had better brush yourself up?" - -"I don't intend to stop," replied Walter, listlessly staring out of -the window. - -"All the better. I don't care for tame cats," said Mrs. Fane. "A man -should be out in the open air, or at business." - -"You won't let me attend to the business," said Walter, shrugging. - -"If you were a man you would attend to it without my sanction. But -some one in this house must see to things, and if you won't the burden -must devolve on my shoulders." - -"As you please," said Fane, and sat down on the floor beside Minnie. -"It's pleasant enough playing with this darling." - -"I believe your brain is softening," said his wife, with a shadow of -anxiety. "Why don't you go for a yachting tour?" - -"I shall never yacht again, Julia. You will no longer have to complain -of my long absences. When is the house to be sold?" - -"In a month. I am arranging the business now. We will then go to -Switzerland." - -"I hate Switzerland." - -"Since you have decided to yacht no more, it doesn't matter if you -live there," said Mrs. Fane. "But you can choose your own place of -residence. It's all one to me, so long as I can see after the -business." - -"I don't see that we need go abroad at all," said Fane sullenly. - -"I see the necessity, and a very great one," retorted Mrs. Fane, with -a flash of her eyes. "Be guided by me, Walter. I know what is good for -you. And do get up from the floor. Laura will be in soon." - -"Fane rose reluctantly. I was sleeping this afternoon," he said, and -yet feel tired. "I think I'll dine at the club and go to the theatre." - -"As you please," said Mrs. Fane quietly, "so long as you don't trouble -me. And don't make love to any other woman," she added. - -"Julia," said Fane, pausing at the door, "do you really care for me as -much as that?" - -"My dear, every one has a weakness; pride is mine. I like you. I have -an affection for you, else I should not have married you. So long as -you look handsome and are well dressed, and show me the deference of a -chivalrous man to his lawful wife, I have no complaint to make. But if -you go after other women, and make me a laughing-stock amongst my -friends," added Mrs. Fane, drawing a deep breath, "I should not spare -you." - -Fane laughed, though rather uneasily. "One would think you would do -me an injury," he said, with another shrug. - -Mrs. Fane raised her eyes and looked at him steadily. "I might even do -that," she replied. "Don't hurt my pride, whatever you do. And if you -desert me in favour of----" - -"There's no chance of my doing that," said Walter irritably. "I -declare to heaven that I'm fond of you, Julia." - -"That is as it should be," retorted Mrs. Fane. - -Before her husband could reply there came a knock at the door, and -immediately afterwards a stolid young man in livery entered. Walter -slipped past him and got out of the room, while the man waited for his -mistress to address him. "Yes?" said Mrs. Fane interrogatively. - -"If you please, ma'am, the cook have gone mad," said the stolid man. - -"Really?" rejoined Mrs. Fane, letting her knitting fall on her lap, -but otherwise undisturbed. "And what form does her madness take?" - -"She says she's going to retire on a fortune, and insists, ma'am, on -coming upstairs to tell you. I think, ma'am----" The man hesitated. - -"Yes," said Mrs. Fane calmly; "I quite understand. This is the third -time she has indulged, and after assuring me that she had taken the -pledge. Send her up." - -"You will excuse me, ma'am, but cook really have found jewels." - -"What do you mean?" This time Mrs. Fane really was amazed. - -"She have found jewels in the dust-hole," stammered the man, and would -have gone on to explain, but that he was roughly brushed aside by a -large female clothed in purple silk of a cheap sort, with a black -velvet cloak trimmed with beads, and a bonnet profusely trimmed with -flowers. Her face was red, and her air was that of an excited person. -This was due partly to drink and partly to excitement, and partly to a -sense of fear at thus braving her mistress, of whom she had a great -dread. The moment she entered the room the footman departed hastily, -thinking there would be a row. He went down to the kitchen, and found -the rest of the servants much excited. It seemed that the cook really -had some cause for her behaviour. At the present moment she was -explaining herself to Mrs. Fane. - -"If you please, mum, I wish to leave this day--this hour--this -minute," panted the cook all in a breath; "my boxes being packed and my -best clothes being on." - -"Indeed!" Mrs. Fane eyed the splendour with a look which made the cook -wince. "I am afraid you can't leave. You get no wages if you do. Go -downstairs." - -"But I don't care for my wages. Far be it from me to rob you, mum. I -am as rich as you, having found a forting in the dust-hole." - -"Really! May I ask what it is?" - -"You'll take it from me, mum," said the cook mistrustfully. - -If you don't show it to me at once, Gander--this was the cook's -unusual name--"I shall send for the police." - -"O mum, think of the scandal. I won't----" then Gander caught the -steady eyes fixed on her. The drink and the excitement were dying out -under the chilling influence of Mrs. Fane's calmness, and the cook -collapsed. - -"It's this, mum," and from under the cloak she brought forth a dagger -with a slim steel blade and a hilt of gold richly encrusted with -jewels. These flashed red and blue and green and yellow in the stream -of sunlight that shone through the window. Minnie caught a sight of -the glitter and clapped her hands. "Yes, my pretty," said the cook -proudly, "it's lovely, ain't it. And all my own, having been found by -me in the dust-hole." - -"May I look at it, Gander?" asked Mrs. Fane. - -The cook, still under the influence of those cold eyes, handed it over -at once, talking while she did so. But she kept her treasure-trove in -sight, and despite her awe would have fought Mrs. Fane, had that lady -shown any signs of annexing the property. "It's jewels rich and rare -with gold, mum," said Gander poetically; "emerald and sappers and -dimings and them things you read of in the book of Revelations. I -shall sell it to a jeweller as I knows, and with the money I shall -become a lady. I don't know as I'll marry," pursued the cook -meditatively; "but I'll have a little house of my own, and sit all day -in the parlour in white muslin reading novels and----" - -"You really must not take so much to drink, Gander," said Mrs. Fane. - -The cook bristled up. "Ho, indeed!" she snorted. "I'm accused of -drink, am I, when my emotions is natural, having come in for a -forting. I read it in the candle last night, and in the tea-leaves two -weeks previous, and then I----" - -"Cook, don't be a fool! This is by no means so costly as you think." - -"It's worth a thousand, if I'm a judge of stones." - -"Ah! but you see you are not," said Mrs. Fane cruelly. "This dagger -belongs to me. It is only imitation gold and bits of glass." - -Gander dropped into a chair. "Lor!" Then with an enraged screech, -"Don't tell me deceptions, whatever you do, mum. My nerves won't stand -deceptions nohow." Here Gander put a large fat hand on her ample -bosom, and observed pathetically, "I feel all of a wabble, as you -might say." - -"I wore this," said Mrs. Fane, fingering the dagger, "at a fancy ball, -and threw it away along with some other rubbish. I suppose that is how -it got into the dust-hole." - -Had the cook been quite herself, and observant, she might have -doubted this explanation, which was certainly weak. Mrs. Fane's maid -would never have carried such a dazzling object to the dust-hole, had -she seen it amidst any rubbish her mistress might have cast aside. But -Gander, deceived by fortune, broke down sobbing at the disappointment -of her hopes. "To think my 'eart should be cast up to be likewise cast -down," she gurgled. "When I went with the ashbucket I sawr that objict -aglittering like anything, being stuck in the side of the dust-hole, -as it were." Mrs. Fane listened attentively. "The 'andle showed -beautiful under some cabbige stalks, and I thought as I was made for -life. O mum"--she clasped her hands, which were encased in green -gloves--"let me take it to my jeweller, and see if he don't think -them stones of price." - -Mrs. Fane, shaking her head, quietly slipped the dagger into her -pocket. "It's only rubbish," she insisted, "so I'll keep it here, as -it seems to upset you. Go downstairs, Gander, and see after the -dinner. I shall overlook your conduct this time, but don't let this -sort of thing occur again. And you might look at your pledge while -you're about it." - -The cook rose quite crushed, but made one last effort to regain -possession of the dagger. "Findings is keepings," she observed. - -"Not in this house. And even had the jewels been real you would not -have been able to keep them, seeing they were found on Mr. Fane's -premises. You can tell the other servants that the dagger belongs to -me, and is merely a theatrical article. Leave the room, Gander." - -"I'ave been hurt in my tender part," sobbed the cook, "and now I have -to go back and be a slave. All flesh is grass, mum, and----" Here she -saw from the glitter in Mrs. Fane's eyes that the patience of her -mistress was giving out, so she hastily retreated, and made things -disagreeable in the kitchen. Mrs. Fane's explanation about the weapon -was readily accepted in the kitchen, as none of the servants were -intelligent, and Gander was well laughed at for her disappointment. -That night the dinner was unusually good at Ajax Villa, as Gander, -fearful of losing her place, wished to make amends. - -When the cook departed Mrs. Fane reproduced the dagger, and looked at -it musingly. While she was daintily feeling the point, Minnie came up -and asked for the pretty thing to play with. "No, dear," said Mrs. -Fane, putting the child aside, with a shade passing over her face, -"it's mother's; and say nothing to Aunt Laura about it." This she -repeated rapidly as she heard Laura's step in the winter-garden. Then -kissing the child, she replaced the weapon in her pocket. - -Laura, looking quiet and subdued, entered, dressed for the reception. - -"No one here yet, Julia?" she asked, looking round. - -"No. Did you expect Mr. Calvert?" - -Laura looked annoyed. "I did not. He is not likely to come here." - -"So you said the other day. Yet I found him with Walter in this room -when I came to tell him about the name of the woman being discovered." -Mrs. Fane cast a long look at Laura, who took no notice. - -"I think we may as well drop the subject, Julia," said the younger -sister. "You will never do Arnold justice." - -"I would with pleasure were he rich," said Julia blandly. "But as he -is poor I wish to discourage your infatuation by all the means in my -power. Then again, Laura, you know very little about him." - -"What I do know is good," retorted Laura, sitting down. - -"Ah, but there may be some bad in him for all that. Has he told you -all his life?" - -"Yes. His father and mother died when he was a child, and he was -brought up by a guardian. He has a small property, and went on the -stage to make a name." - -"You have seen him act in this new piece?" asked Mrs. Fane, keeping -her eyes on the knitting, but listening with all her ears for the -answer. "I think you said something about going to the Frivolity with -that Baldwin girl." - -"I went with Gerty, and liked the play," said Laura coldly. - -"Is it a modern play?" asked Mrs. Fane. - -"Yes," answered Miss Mason, rather surprised at this interest being -taken in the drama, for which Julia had no great love. "It is a -three-act modern comedy, _The Third Man_." - -"I read the notice of it, Laura dear. I fancy I remember that in the -second act there is a fancy dress ball. I suppose Mr. Calvert wears a -fancy dress in that act." - -"He is dressed as a Venetian. Why do you ask that?" - -Mrs. Fane evaded the question. "My dear," she said gravely, "when I -found Mr. Calvert with Walter, I came to read about the two rooms, at -Hampstead and this house--being similar, you know. The paper said that -the other house--in Coleridge Lane, I believe--was owned by a Mrs. -Brand. Mr. Calvert admitted that he had a cousin called Flora Brand, -and I have a suspicion--no facts though--that this Flora Brand is the -woman who was murdered here." - -"You have no right to say that, Julia," said Laura quickly. - -"I have no ground to go on, certainly," admitted Mrs. Fane in a most -provokingly calm manner, "but I am certain that the woman was murdered -here, and that she is Flora Brand, Mr. Calvert's cousin." - -Laura, who was changing from red to white and from white to red, -looked straightly at Julia. "What do you mean?" - -"Mr. Calvert," said Mrs. Fane, "is dressed as a Venetian in the second -act of this play. Probably he would wear a dagger--as a Venetian he -would certainly wear a dagger--a stage dagger." - -"He does. What of that?" - -"Merely this." Mrs. Fane produced the dagger from her pocket. "This is -a stage weapon. The handle is tinsel and glass. It was found by Gander -in the dust-hole." - -Laura took the weapon and examined it with a pale face. "Go on." - -"Really, my dear, there is no more to say. I leave you to draw your -own inferences." - -"I understand," said Laura rapidly and in a low voice. "You think that -Arnold killed the woman?" - -"She was his cousin--the dagger is a stage weapon--Mr. Calvert often -came to this house. Put two and two together, my dear, and----" - -"Stop!" cried Laura furiously. "I don't believe it. Why should Arnold -come here and kill his cousin--if she is his cousin?" - -"He admitted she was." - -"He admitted, according to your own showing, that Flora Brand was. We -cannot yet be certain that the dead woman is Flora Brand." - -"Going by the similarity of the rooms----" - -"That may be a coincidence." - -"A very strange one, taken in conjunction with that dagger and the -relationship, of which I am fully convinced. Did you give Mr. Calvert -the latch-key?" asked Julia suddenly. - -"How dare you say that! Do you accuse me of aiding Arnold to kill the -woman?" - -"Ah! you admit that he killed her then?" said Mrs. Fane quickly. - -"No! no! you confuse me. The idea is ridiculous. I am losing my head -over your talk." Laura walked to and fro in an agitated manner. "He -did not--he did not. What motive could he have for killing----" - -"Laura"--Mrs. Fane rose with a determined air--"you know something, I -am sure. Walter noticed that you are not such good friends with this -man as you used to be. What do you know?" - -"Nothing!" panted Laura, as Mrs. Fane seized both her elbows and -looked into her eyes. "Let me go, Julia!" - -"Not until you tell me----" - -"Mrs. Baldwin," said the voice of the footman, and he threw open the -door. In a moment Mrs. Fane was her conventional self, and was holding -out her hand to the visitor. "How good of you to come," she said in -her sweetest tones. "Laura and I were acting a scene in a play she is -going to appear in. Amateur theatricals, you know," said Mrs. Fane, -giving the old lady no time to speak. "She takes the part of a girl -who is rather tragic. Do sit down, Mrs. Baldwin. The tea will be up -soon. How well you are looking." - -Bewildered under this torrent of words Mrs. Baldwin, whose brain never -moved very fast, sat down on the sofa and tried to recover herself. - -Laura, thankful to Julia for once in her life, concealed the dagger in -her pocket and retired to the window to recover her calmness. The -accusation of Julia had taken her by surprise, and she had been thrown -off her guard. As a matter of fact she did know something, but Julia -with her unsympathetic manner was the last person in whom she felt -inclined to confide. The two sisters in dispositions and tastes were -as far asunder as the poles. - -Mrs. Baldwin looked like a bird of paradise that had been out all -night in the rain. She was dressed in an ill-assorted assemblage of -colours. Some of her clothes were bran-new; others quite ancient. Her -gloves were different in size and colour, so evidently she had -snatched up one of Gerty's in a hurry. In fact, she seemed to have -dressed hastily, so uneasy was the set of her clothes. And from the -very candid confession that followed it appeared that she had, as she -put it, "taken the first things that came to hand." - -"If I had waited, I never should have made up my mind to come," said -Mrs. Baldwin in her complacent voice. "But after the professor told -me, I felt it was my duty to be the first to congratulate Miss Mason. -Such a change in the young man's prospects, ain't it?" - -"Are you talking of Mr. Calvert?" asked Mrs. Fane quickly, and with a -side-glance at Laura. - -"Of whom else?" responded Mrs. Baldwin genially. "My girl--Gerty's her -name--told me of the affection between Miss Mason and Mr.----" - -"Don't speak of it," interposed Laura, annoyed that this gossiping -woman should interfere in so delicate an affair. - -"Oh yes, do, Mrs. Baldwin," said Julia sweetly. "We were just talking -about Mr. Calvert when you came in." - -"I thought you were acting a play." - -"Quite so," rejoined Mrs. Fane, still sweetly. "And Mr. Calvert is to -act the lover. I was supposed to be the lover at rehearsal," she added -playfully. - -Laura did not contradict these enormous lies, as she would only have -had an unpleasant quarter of an hour with Julia when the visitor left. -"Who is the professor?" she asked, to change the conversation. - -"Why, my dear, you know him. The dark gentleman who occupies the damp -little house at the end of the meadow." - -"Yes, I believe he did speak to me once. But we had little -conversation. What did he tell you about Arnold--Mr. Calvert?" - -"Never be ashamed of speaking his Christian name, my dear," advised -Mrs. Baldwin. "Lovers will be lovers; eh, Mrs. Fane?" - -"It would seem so," said Julia serenely. "I dislike demonstrative -affection myself. But what did this professor say?" - -"Professor Bocaros is his name," said Mrs. Baldwin, who would tell her -story in her own slow way. "He told me that Mr. Calvert had come into -a fortune." - -"Into a fortune?" gasped Laura, turning even paler than she was. - -"Of course, my dear, you know all about it," said Mrs. Baldwin -playfully. "He told you that this poor woman who was killed here was -his cousin." - -Laura uttered an ejaculation and stared, but Julia interposed. "We did -hear something about it," she said. "Has this woman left Mr. Calvert a -fortune?" - -"So Professor Bocaros says," replied the other woman. "Ten thousand a -year. I suppose he'll spend some in finding how the poor soul came by -her death in this very room," said Mrs. Baldwin, with a shudder. - -"I suppose he will. Let us hope so," said Julia. "Laura, you are not -looking well. Had you not better lie down?" - -"Thank you," said Laura mechanically, and without a word left the -room. But Julia, with a hasty apology to the astonished Mrs. Baldwin, -followed, and outside the door caught her sister by the arm. "You -wanted to find a motive for Arnold Calvert committing this crime," she -said. "It was for the money." - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -THE INQUIRY-AGENT - - -Arnold Calvert occupied rooms in Bloomsbury; pleasant old rooms in a -house which had been fashioned in Georgian times. It stood in a quiet -street undisturbed by the noise of traffic or the shrieking of -children at play. Even organ-grinders rarely came that way, as the -neighbourhood was not remunerative. Consequently the house was mostly -occupied by people of delicate health who disliked noise. Mrs. Varney, -the landlady, was a motherly old person with rather a hard eye. At one -time she had been on the stage, and traces of that period appeared in -her deliberate movements and slow voice. She always seemed as though -she were reciting Shakespeare with appropriate gestures, although she -had played but minor parts in the dramas of the bard. - -Arnold was Mrs. Varney's pet lodger. As he was on the stage she -frequently gave him the benefit of her advice, and Calvert always -received her stale instruction with good humour and attention. This -obedience made her love him, and he benefited by having his rooms -better looked after and his food better cooked than any of the other -lodgers. Calvert had two rooms on the second floor, a bedroom and a -pleasant sitting-room, the window of which afforded a view round the -corner of the square out of which the street led. It was an -oak-panelled room with a painted ceiling, and furnished in very good -taste. Arnold detested the frippery with which many young men of the -present day cram their rooms, and his apartment was essentially -masculine. The carpet and hangings were of dull red, the chairs and -sofa were upholstered in leather, and on two sides of the room were -dwarf book-cases containing a well-selected library. Calvert was fond -of reading--a taste he had contracted at college, and kept well -abreast of the literature of the day. In one corner of the room -stood a small piano. Over the mantel-piece was a collection of -boxing-gloves, foils, masks, and suchlike things. Portraits of -Magdalen College--which had been Calvert's _Alma Mater_--and of those -men who had been his contemporaries, adorned the walls. Then there -were many portraits of Calvert in cricketing costume, in boating -dress, in cap and gown, and in some of his stage characters. -Altogether a manly, pleasant room, quite the place for a studious man -to dream and work in. And as Arnold lived a quiet life, he indulged in -literary pursuits, as the loose papers on his desk and the presence of -a typewriter demonstrated. - -He was fair and handsome, with a lean clean-shaven face of the classic -type. His hair was curly, and well brushed back from a high white -forehead, and his eyes were blue and deep. Most people have shallow -eyes like those of a bird, but there was a depth in those of Calvert -which betokened a man who thought. A handsome intellectual face on the -whole, and usually bright with good health, good humour, and -contentment. At present, however, it was rather clouded. - -The cause of this dismal expression was to be found in the presence of -two men who were seated near the window. Arnold himself, in -riding-dress, stood on the hearth-rug with his hands in his pockets. -He had come back from a ride that morning to find two gentlemen -waiting for him. "Professor Bocaros," said Mrs. Varney in the hall, -when she admitted him; "he's a gentleman though shabby. But the other, -called Jasher, is as vulgar as his vulgar name." - -"This was rather hard on Mr. Jasher, who was not so vulgar as the -landlady made out. He was as stout as Bocaros was lean--a fair, -complacent, well-fed, elderly man of the Falstaff tribe. Mr. Jasher -looked as though he knew a good dinner when he sat down to one, and -was quite able to appreciate delicate cookery and good wines. His -round fat face was red and freckled, with rather full lips, twinkling -grey eyes, humorous in expression, and his hair was plentiful if -rather grey. With his fat hands folded sleepily on his rotund stomach, -Mr. Jasher looked anything but an inquiry-agent. Yet that was his -profession, as announced by Professor Bocaros. Arnold had received the -intimation calmly, though with some astonishment. - -"Why do you bring this man to me?" he asked curtly. - -"Do you know who I am?" asked Bocaros in his turn. - -Arnold nodded. "I do. There was a certain relative of ours who -sometimes spoke of you." - -"Flora Brand?" - -Arnold nodded again. "Mrs. Brand," said he; "she was Flora Calvert, -the daughter of my uncle. Your aunt, professor, was, I understand, her -mother. But you doubtless know of the relationship, since she told me -that you had seen her." - -"Twice," interposed Bocaros quickly, and then wiped his mouth. "I saw -her five or six years ago, and then shortly before her murder." - -Jasher looked directly at Calvert as the professor made this -statement, hoping to discern some emotion. But Arnold's face, -doubtless owing to his stage training, betrayed nothing of his -feelings. It looked as cold as the face of a Greek god, which he -rather resembled in his looks. "I am aware that Mrs. Brand was -murdered," he said; "my lawyers, Messrs. Laing and Merry, told me so -the other day." - -"Did they tell you about the money?" asked Bocaros, his big black eyes -fastened eagerly on the face of his cousin. - -This time Calvert coloured a trifle, and shifted his rather direct -gaze. "Yes," he answered; "though I do not know by what right you ask -me such a question." - -"I am your cousin----" - -"Even that does not entitle you to take such a liberty." - -"Bocaros looked annoyed. I am the last man to take a liberty with any -one," said he coldly, while Jasher's twinkling eyes watched his face -and the face of Calvert alternately; "but Flora, when I saw her a week -before she was murdered, told me that she had made a will in my -favour. When I went to see Merry I was informed that she had changed -her mind and had constituted you her heir." - -"Quite so," assented the young man. "Mr. Merry told me all this, and -of your visit. I rather expected a visit from you, professor. You want -me to help you with money----" - -"I want you to offer a reward in order to learn who killed your--our -cousin," burst out Bocaros swiftly. - -Calvert bit his lip, and the blood rushed to his fair face. "You may be -sure that I will leave no stone unturned to learn the truth," he said, -and walked in a rather agitated manner up and down the room. At length -he came to a halt opposite Jasher. "You are a private inquiry-agent," -said he. "Mr. Merry informed me that the professor, under the -impression that he had inherited the money, employed you to hunt for -the assassin of poor Mrs. Brand." - -"Yes--yes," cried Bocaros, shifting his chair in great excitement. "And -I bring him to you that you may employ him. I am poor--yes, I am very -poor, but I do not want money. Spend what you would give me in paying -Jasher to discover the assassin." - -"Is this why you bring Mr. Jasher to me?" asked Arnold. - -"What else?" said Bocaros. "I only saw Flora twice, but I liked -her--she was good to me. I want to know who killed her." - -"All the world wants to know that, professor." - -"Pardon me," said Jasher, in his unctuous voice. "I do not think the -world in general cares very much, Mr. Calvert. The world has grown -tired of its nine days' wonder, and now is occupying itself in other -matters. I pointed this out to the professor, and proposed that you -should remunerate me for what I have done, seeing that he cannot pay -me, and let sleeping dogs lie." - -"Arnold looked up sharply. What do you mean by that expression?" he -asked quickly. "Have you discovered anything?" - -"Jasher produced a small note-book. I have set down one or two things. -At present I am collecting evidence. When I have sufficient I will -know how to move. But"--he closed the book--"if you would like me to -destroy these pages----" - -"Why the devil should I, man?" demanded Calvert, frowning. "As the -cousin and the legatee of Mrs. Brand, I am doubly concerned in -learning the truth. I agree to what the professor suggests. You shall -search out this matter, and find out who killed the poor woman. I will -bear all the expense. And if you bring the guilty person to justice, I -will pay you five hundred pounds." - -"Consider it done," said Jasher, nodding. "I'll engage to get at the -truth. Five hundred pounds is worth earning." - -"Are you satisfied?" asked Calvert, turning to Bocaros. - -The professor, strangely enough, seeing that his errand had not been -in vain, looked rather disappointed. "Yes," he replied hesitatingly; -"it is good of you. I am very pleased." He rose. "Now we will go." - -"No," said Arnold, touching him on the breast, sit down. "As I pay the -piper, I call the tune. Mr. Jasher has passed from your employment -into mine. I should like to know"--he turned to Jasher--"what you have -discovered so far." - -"Nothing easier," said Jasher, again opening his little book. "I have -learned details from the papers, from observation, from Professor -Bocaros, and from Mr. Tracey." - -"Tracey!" said Calvert, starting. "I remember. He was the American -whose car was stolen." - -"You know him better than that, Mr. Calvert," burst in the professor. -"He is engaged to Miss Baldwin, the great friend of the young lady whom -you are to marry." - -Arnold turned on the Greek sharply. "How do you know that?" - -"I live in a house near Mrs. Baldwin. She is my landlady. I know -Tracey and Miss Baldwin. I have met Miss Mason, and----" - -"And Miss Mason told you," interposed Arnold. - -"No. Mr. Tracey, informed by Miss Baldwin, told me. And it struck me -as strange," added Bocaros, in rather a venomous tone, "that you should -be engaged to the girl in whose house Flora was murdered." - -"It belongs to her brother-in-law," said Calvert coldly. "Do you mean -to hint, professor, that I know anything about this crime?" - -"No," interposed Jasher, making a sign to Bocaros to hold his tongue, -"he doesn't mean anything of the sort. Merely a coincidence, Mr. -Calvert, such as will occur in real life." - -"Of course." Bocaros nodded and spoke with less significance. "I mean -that it is merely a coincidence." - -Calvert looked from one to the other suspiciously, but set a mask on -his face so that they should not guess what was passing in his mind. -"We may as well understand one another," he said coolly. "If you, -professor, or you, Mr. Jasher, are under the impression that I have -anything to do with this crime--and you may think so from the fact -that being notoriously hard up and notoriously anxious to marry Miss -Mason I wanted this money--you are quite mistaken. I am engaged at the -Frivolity Theatre from seven till close on midnight every night. I can -prove what the law calls an _alibi_, and if you will apply to the -stage manager of the theatre, you may convince yourself of the fact." - -"My dear sir," said Jasher deprecatingly, since Calvert was now his -employer, "no one suspects you." - -"I thought from what Bocaros hinted----" - -"No! no! I said it was merely a coincidence," said the professor -quickly. "The very fact that you are willing to employ Jasher, and -offer so large a reward, proclaims your innocence." - -"I have no need to resort to such things," said Calvert angrily. "I -only learned that the dead woman was my cousin from the fact of the -White Room----" - -"But how did that lead to your identification of Flora with the dead -woman?" asked Bocaros shrewdly. - -Arnold seemed confused. "I saw in the paper that the White Room had -been remarked by a man called Webb, who had communicated with the -police. It was then found by Inspector Derrick that Mrs. Brand had -been missing. I fancied that she might be the unknown woman. I was -informed that this was the truth by Merry, who has communicated with -the police. I did not see the body or I would have been able to -identify it. But Derrick found a portrait of my cousin, and says it is -that of the dead woman." - -This was rather a roundabout explanation, and Bocaros curled his lip. -In spite of his denial he seemed to suspect Arnold. But that Jasher -touched his arm he would have asked a question. As it was he allowed -the agent to speak. "You knew that your cousin had such a room?" asked -Jasher. - -"Yes. Certainly I knew." - -"Then you have sometimes visited her?" - -"I have. My cousin and I were good friends. I did not see much of her -certainly, but I have been in her house." - -"Did you know that Mr. Fane had a similar white room?" - -"Yes. He told me it was his own idea. I said that some one else had -been beforehand. That I had a cousin who had such a room." - -"Did you mention your cousin's name?" - -"Not at the time. Flora said that the White Room was her own idea, and -Fane insisted that the idea was original, emanating from his brain. I -thought it was a coincidence." - -"There appear to be a great many coincidences about this case in -connection with you," murmured Bocaros, but of this remark Calvert for -his own reasons took no notice. - -"Seeing that your cousin was killed in the White Room in Ajax Villa, -Mr. Calvert," pursued Jasher, "did it not strike you that it would be -wise to draw the attention of the police to the other White Room?" - -"Certainly not. Why should I have connected Flora with the dead woman? -I never knew she was missing until the man Webb of Hampstead drew -attention to her disappearance, and by that time the White Room at -Hampstead had become known to the police. In fact, the room there, -taken in connection with Mrs. Brand's disappearance, made Webb write -to the police. I don't see how you can blame me." - -"I do not," said the agent patiently. "I am only trying to get at the -truth." - -"I don't know it." - -"You know Miss Mason, and she is the sister-in-law of Fane----" - -"What of that? Do you mean to hint that she----" - -"No! no!" said Jasher hastily; "but it was stated at the inquest that -Fane alone had the latch-key, that it was never out of his possession, -that the man who made it--invented that particular latch-key I may -say--never made another. How then did Mrs. Brand enter the house, and -how did she know that the family were at the seaside?" - -"I cannot tell you. Why do you ask me?" - -"I thought Miss Mason--seeing that you are engaged to her--might have -spoken out." - -Arnold's face grew red. "I forbid you to bring Miss Mason's name into -the matter," he cried imperiously; "she has nothing to do with this -affair. She was stopping with Mrs. Baldwin on that night, and never -went near Ajax Villa when her sister was absent. Fane and his wife -were at the seaside--so were the servants. How can you implicate any -of these people?" - -"I don't say that I can," retorted Jasher. "I am simply groping in the -dark. But the fact remains that Mr. Fane alone had the latch-key. It -must have been out of his possession so that some one could take an -impression and have a duplicate made, or----" - -"Well, or what?" - -"I'll tell you," said Bocaros coming away from the window, "or Mr. Fane -must have been the young man who spoke to the officer and who killed -the woman--poor Flora." - -"You forget," said Arnold coolly, "it was proved that the woman was -alive when the young man in question was talking to the policeman." - -"On the contrary," said the professor smoothly, "it was proved that the -woman--poor Flora--was dead three hours when the woman was singing and -the young man luring the policeman away." - -"How dare you say that the man lured the policeman away!" cried Arnold -furiously; "your ignorance of English law, professor, excuses your -loose talk. But you are accusing every one without any basis of fact. -What is your opinion, Jasher?" - -"I haven't got one as yet," said Jasher, putting his book away and -rising; "so far I can't see light. But I will go away and search, and -then come back to tell you if I have discovered anything." - -"In what direction will you search?" asked Calvert uneasily. - -"I shall search in the direction of the latch-key. Fane alone had it, -so I want to learn Fane's doings on that night." - -"He was at the seaside." - -"So he says," said Jasher significantly. - -"And so Mrs. Fane says," said Bocaros quickly. "Better look for the -young man with the pointed beard." - -"The police have looked everywhere and he has not been found," said -Arnold calmly, "and I don't think he will be found." - -The professor was about to speak when Jasher pulled him to the door. -When there he spoke. "By the way, Mr. Calvert, did you ever see Mr. -Brand?" he asked. - -"No. I never did." - -"Did you ever see his portrait?" - -"No"--but this time Calvert's denial was not so emphatic--"I didn't." - -Jasher nodded. "That's all right," said he. "I'll come back in a few -days and tell you about the latch-key." - -When the two withdrew, Calvert sat down in an armchair and buried his -face in his hands. His head was whirling, and his mind was much -troubled. So buried was he in his reflections that he did not hear the -door open. He was not conscious that any one was in the room till a -hand was laid on his shoulders. With a start he sprang to his feet. He -looked and saw Laura Mason. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -ARNOLD AND LAURA - - -The lovers looked at one another in terror. Calvert, surprised by -Laura's sudden entrance, had no time to compose his features. She, -seeing his face, and coming to him already filled with suspicions -against which she strove vainly to fight, reflected the paleness and -haggard looks which startled her. For the moment both masks had -dropped, and these human beings, devoured by terror, stared at one -another as though the fabled Gorgon had changed them into stone. -Arnold was the first to recover himself. He smoothed his face to a -smile, and held out his hands, which she took in a passive manner. "I -did not expect to see you here, dearest," he said, leading her to a -chair. "But how ill you look. Nothing is wrong, I hope." - -Laura sat down still gazing at him, but did not reply. "How does my -sister's maid come to be in this house?" she asked abruptly. - -"Your sister's maid?" he repeated, staring. - -"Yes; Emily Doon. I saw her in the hall as the landlady let me in. As -soon as she caught sight of me she vanished down the stairs to the -basement. And those two men----" - -"One question at a time, dear," said Arnold calmly. He had now quite -recovered his composure, and was prepared to deal with the situation. -"And I shall answer the last first. The men who left me are a Mr. -Jasher and Professor----" - -"Bocaros," cried Laura, striking her gloved hands together. "I thought -I knew his face. I saw him once at Mrs. Baldwin's. He lives in a -cottage across the meadow, and sometimes comes to borrow her paper. -What a horrid face--what a detestable man!" - -Arnold looked rather surprised at her vehemence. "I certainly do not -like the professor, and I met him to-day for the first time. It -happens oddly enough that we are connected." - -"Connected?" echoed Laura. "Wait; I have some sort of idea. The -professor told Mr. Tracey that he was a cousin of this woman who was -killed at Ajax Villa----" - -"Her mother was the aunt of Bocaros," explained Calvert. - -"And you are a cousin of the dead woman?" - -"She was Flora Calvert before she married Brand, the daughter of my -uncle. Bocaros and I are connected in a way by marriage. As to Mrs. -Fane's maid being here--we shall soon learn the reason," and he -touched the button of the electric bell. - -Mrs. Varney, with her majestic air and false smile, answered so -rapidly that it would seem she had been watching, if such a stately -female would descend so low. She smiled ingratiatingly on Laura, who, -without waiting for Arnold to speak, put the question. "I saw my -sister's maid, Emily Doon, as I entered," she said; "what is she doing -here?" - -"What eyes you have, miss, I declare," said Mrs. Varney in her deep -voice. "Yes, miss, it is Emily. She is my younger sister. I was a Miss -Doon before I became Mrs. Varney. Your sister kindly gave Emily -permission to spend a happy day with me, and this afternoon we are -going to a matin�e--_Hamlet_," said the landlady in her most serious -voice, "the whole of it--lasting five hours." - -Having thus stated her case, Mrs. Varney waited in the attitude of a -startled fawn for a reply. Laura apologised. "I beg your pardon for -asking," she said colouring; "it is, of course, none of my business, -but I was naturally surprised at seeing Emily here." - -"Ah," Mrs. Varney cast a look at Arnold, "we know all, miss. Emily has -told me. Juliet's garden--and the Forest of Arden----" - -"We are engaged, Mrs. Varney," said Arnold, enraged by the -impertinence of the landlady. - -With her false smile she turned to the door. "Certainly, sir, but as -Miss Mason is in the Forest of Arden I would like her to know that -Emily is likewise there. That was why she was in the hall. She has an -eye to Professor Bocaros," burst out Mrs. Varney with pride; "he -admiring her greatly, and living in the vicinity of Ajax Villa. -Good-day, miss, and----" the landlady looked as though she would have -liked to add, "Bless you!" but an imperious glance from Arnold sent -her rapidly out of the room. Stately as Mrs. Varney was, she loved to -be bullied as all women in their hearts do. Arnold's imperious manner -only made her admire him the more. Had he been a bully in addition, -she would doubtless have adored him. - -"I don't like it, Arnold," said Laura, starting to her feet when the -door closed. "Professor Bocaros, in spite of his looks and poverty, is -a gentleman. Why should he take notice of Emily, who is merely a -servant? And she is here--oh, what does it mean?" - -Arnold, amazed by this outburst, looked at her in surprise. "My dear, -what does it matter?" he said, pressing her to resume her seat. "I -don't care if Bocaros marries a laundress. He has nothing to do with -me." - -"He is a dangerous man, and you are in his way." - -"Am I? What do you mean?" - -"Can't you understand, Arnold? He told Mr. Tracey that his cousin and -yours, Mrs. Brand, intended to leave him the money. I learned from -Mrs. Baldwin, who heard it from the professor himself, that you have -got the ten thousand a year. The professor is poor--from what Mrs. -Baldwin told me he is wretchedly poor. Do you think such a man will -tamely submit to the loss of a fortune? No, Arnold, no. He is -dangerous. Take care. If Emily Doon has an eye to marrying the -professor, she is not in this house for nothing." - -Calvert tried to soothe the excited girl. "My dear, you are unduly -suspicious. Mrs. Varney has given us the reason for the maid's being -here. Bocaros cannot harm me in any way----" - -"Are you so sure?" asked Laura sharply. - -"What do you mean?" he asked. - -"I mean that you will not be open with me. I love you. Have I not -proved how I love you. Julia is against our marriage: but in spite of -what she says I have remained true to you. Yet you will not trust me?" - -"With what? I am quite in the dark." - -He may have been. Yet there was a deep colour in his cheeks, and he -looked uneasy. Laura saw these symptoms of emotion, and placed her -hands on his shoulders. "Arnold," she said earnestly, "if you have any -love for me you will speak out. Look at this!" she hastily drew from -her pocket the stage dagger. "This is yours?" - -"It is," he admitted readily, and with a look of great surprise. "If -you remember it was bought by me for the second act of this play. I -showed it to you and----" - -"You did. You showed it to me before the murder!" - -Arnold looked at her in silence. "Perhaps you will permit me to -explain," he said coldly, "as I really do not understand what you mean -by such a speech. I lost that dagger----" - -"You threw it into the dustbin after killing that poor woman!" - -"Laura!" Calvert rose to his feet pale and trembling. From being a -calm and resolute man he suddenly seemed to change into a coward. With -white lips and a drooping figure, he stood in the middle of the room. -"You will never say anything more cruel than that to me," he said in a -low voice, and covered his face. - -Laura looked with sudden joy overspreading her face. "You are -innocent," she cried, running to throw her arms round his neck. "I -knew it. I was certain. Dearest, I never believed--never. I said what -I did say only to try you. But I know now that you did not kill this -woman. I feel it in my heart. You forgive me--you forgive me--come, -kiss me, Arnold--kiss me and make friends." - -In a lifeless manner he kissed her, and then submitted to be taken to -his former seat. "Now that we understand one another," said Laura, -sitting down and keeping his hand imprisoned within her own, "we must -have a long talk. You are innocent----" - -"How can you be sure of that?" - -"Because I am," she replied determinedly. "No, Arnold. Even if you -swore that you were guilty I would not believe it. I tried you by -making what you truthfully call a cruel speech, and your reply, -although it may sound nothing to other people, brought conviction into -my heart. But if I trust you, other people don't. This dagger!" - -"Where was it found?" asked Calvert, examining it, but still pale. - -"In the dustbin. The cook found it. She brought it to Julia, who -pretended that it was one she had worn at a fancy ball. Then Julia -hinted at your guilt, from the fact that you must have worn such a -dagger in the second act of the play. I denied that this was so, and -came to see you. Arnold, you must be plain with me. For some time, -since the murder in fact, you must have seen how I have avoided -you--how I have kept out of your way." - -"Yes," he said with bitterness, "I saw that. When I called at the -house on that day a week or so ago, you avoided me. You have hardly -replied to my letters save in the coldest way. You suspect me----" - -"No," answered Laura quickly; "I do not, though I have cause to." - -Arnold looked at her keenly. "What do you mean?" he asked quietly. - -"Surely you remember the appointment you made with me?" - -"What appointment?" he said, still eyeing her, and the colour again -ebbing from his face. - -"For the night of the 24th July at half-past nine--on the very night -that poor creature was killed." - -"Laura!" his voice was firmer now, and his looks expressed amazement; -"it was you who made the appointment. You sent me----" - -"Wait, Arnold. One thing at a time. There is something terrible and -mysterious about this. I suspect pitfalls and snares likely to bring -us into danger. I say, and I can prove it, that you made the -appointment. I have your letter in my pocket asking me to meet you at -half-past nine on that night. I would have destroyed it so as to put -away all evidence of your having been at Ajax Villa on that night, but -I kept it, as I wished to show it to you, and to ask how you came to -gain possession of Walter's latch-key!" - -"You sent it to me!" he said, much astonished. "I have your letter -also. The key was lost." - -"You dropped it in the road when you spoke to the policeman?" - -Arnold nodded. "But how did you guess that I was the man who left the -house--the man for whom the police are searching?" - -"Mulligan described your dress and said you had a pointed beard. You -have such a suit and such a beard in the last act of the play. I knew -then that you came later than I expected to keep the appointment, and -in your hurry you had left the theatre without waiting to change your -clothes or take off the false beard." - -"In that case," said Arnold, very pale, "you must think me guilty of -Flora's death, seeing that I left the house when----" - -"No," interrupted Laura quickly; "you did not come, at half-past nine, -for I was at the gate waiting for you. I rang the bell, since you said -you would admit me in your letter. As you came finally in your stage -clothes, you must have been unable to get away earlier from the -theatre. Therefore, as Flora was murdered before nine o'clock you must -be innocent. But I never thought you guilty," she added tenderly, -wreathing her arms round his neck, and whatever any one said I would -never believe you killed the woman. You are not the man to commit a -brutal murder. "Yet Arnold," her arms dropped and she looked anxious, -"the evidence is strong. This dagger is yours, you left the house, the -police are looking for you and----" - -"All that goes for nothing, seeing I was not at the house before nine -o'clock." - -"You were not?" she exclaimed joyfully. - -"No! Listen, Laura, and I will tell you the whole truth and you will -see why I kept silent. Like yourself--seeing that you deny writing the -letter----" - -"Show it to me. We must have a clear ground before we can go further. -Here is the letter I received. Look at it while I see if Mrs. Varney -is lurking outside. I don't trust that woman, and now that I know my -sister's maid, who loves Professor Bocaros, is here, I trust her less -than ever. O Arnold, how I wish I had come to see you before!" - -"It would have been better. Why did you not?" - -"I was afraid. Arnold, how could I come to you and declare that the -man I loved was guilty? I did not believe it--no--but I knew that you -had the key--that you had been in the house on that night!" - -"I can explain that," said Calvert quickly; "see if all is safe and -return to your seat." - -While Laura peered outside the door, he opened a cash-box and took -therefrom a letter. This he laid open on the desk beside the letter -given to him by Laura. When she returned, having ascertained that the -coast was clear, he pointed to this last. "I never wrote that," he -said firmly; "it is a forgery." - -"And the letter you received is one also," said Laura, staring at the -document; "and oh, what a clumsy one! See--I do not separate my words -like that. I often forget to dot my 'i's' and cross my 't's.' The -signature is excellent--exactly like mine, but the rest of the letter -is very bad--not at all a good imitation." - -"But you will observe," said Arnold, pointing again, "that you end -'yours in haste.' I thought the hurried writing was thereby accounted -for. Although I never suspected but that the letter was yours, I -certainly thought that the calligraphy was different to your usual -neat handwriting." - -"I always write neatly," she replied, "and this letter is one I should -have been ashamed to send out. But I use this colour and texture of -paper," she sniffed it, "and the same kind of scent. I wonder how the -person who forged this came to get my stationery. But, Arnold, your -letter is written from the theatre--here is the printed name both on -the envelope and inside sheet. How could I doubt but that the letter, -was yours. It came to me by post at Mrs. Baldwin's." - -"And yours containing the latch-key came on the afternoon of the 24th -July. It was delivered by messenger to Mrs. Varney, who brought it to -me." - -"What do you mean by containing the latch-key?" - -"Let us examine the letter first. Then you will see!" - -The letter to Arnold at his lodgings, written on perfumed, -lavender-tinted paper, contained a few hurried lines asking him to -meet Laura at Ajax Villa on the night of the 24th July at half-past -nine. "I may be a little late," the letter continued, "so I send you the -latch-key, which I got from Walter who is at the seaside. You can let -yourself in." The letter ended with an admonition not to fail to keep -the appointment, and was signed with what appeared unmistakably to be -Laura Mason's signature. - -"I never wrote a line of it," said Laura, very pale; "and I never sent -the latch-key. Walter was at the seaside certainly, but he would not -have given me the key out of fear of Julia. I stopped with the -Baldwins and never went to the villa while Julia was away." - -"The letter to Laura at Mrs. Baldwin's, written on paper belonging to -the Frivolity Theatre, likewise contained a few hurried lines saying -that the writer would be with her as asked, at half-past nine on the -night of the 24th of July, that he would obey instructions if he was -early and admit her into the house if she rang the bell. It also -stated that his understudy would play his part in _The Third Man_ so -that the appointment could be kept. - -"I never wrote a line of that," said Arnold when Laura had finished -reading the letter. "When did you get it?" - -"On the afternoon of the 24th. I was astonished, as I knew I had not -written you a letter about the villa, and I wondered how you would be -able to let me in." - -"Now observe, Laura," said Calvert, sitting down, "both these letters -are delivered to you and I so late that there is no chance of our -meeting for an explanation save at Ajax Villa. It seems to me like a -trap--whether for you or for me I cannot say--perhaps for us both." - -"Did you really come to the villa?" asked Laura, knitting her brows. - -"I did. You were right in your guess about my being the man who spoke -to Mulligan. When I received your letter I asked the manager to let my -understudy take the part. He made some objection, but finally he gave -permission for the change. Then I came home, intending to keep the -appointment at half-past nine, and wondering what you wished to say, -seeing that we had met three days previously, and then you had given -no hint of your possession of the latch-key." - -"I wondered in exactly the same way," exclaimed the girl. "I said to -Mrs. Baldwin on Saturday night--_the_ night you know--that I would go -out for a stroll, the evening being hot. Gerty was at the theatre with -Mr. Tracey. I then went to the villa at half-past nine or a little -later. I did not see you, and but few people were about. I slipped -into the garden so as not to be seen waiting in the road. I was afraid -lest any of Julia's friends should see me. I then rang the bell -somewhere near a quarter to ten, thinking you had arrived and were -within. I rang and rang but no one appeared, so I fancied you had not -been able to get away from the theatre, and returned to Mrs. Baldwin. -I said I had been strolling in the Nightingales' Walk." - -"Did you see a light in the room where the crime was committed?" - -"No! Had I done so I should have waited. But the villa was quite in -darkness," said the girl decisively. "You did not come?" - -"I did later. There was a chapter of accidents. I came home rather -tired and lay down to sleep after dinner. When I awoke it was nine -o'clock. How I came to oversleep myself I can't say. I usually waken -when I wish. Then a message came from the theatre just as I was -getting ready to come--although I knew I would be late for the -appointment. My understudy was taken ill, so I had to go back and -finish the play. Afterwards, so eager was I to see if you were -waiting, that I left the theatre without changing my clothes. I took a -fast cab and reached Achilles Avenue about twenty or fifteen minutes -to eleven." - -"Did you drive up to the door?" asked Laura. - -"No; I thought, for your sake, it was best to keep my visit quiet. I -left the cab in Circe Street, and walked to the villa. No one was -about. I went into the garden, but did not see you. I then walked into -the house, letting myself in by the front door. I knew that you must -have gone away, but I opened the door, just to see if you had left a -note. Also I saw a light on the second story and fancied you must have -got in and were perhaps waiting for me. These things are rather -contradictory," added Arnold, passing his hand across his face, "but -the mystery of your letter and the appointment rather worried me. -However, I went in, and up to the White Room. There I saw a woman -lying, dead face upwards on the mat before the piano. I saw that she -was my cousin and was horrified. I turned the body over, and found -the wound. She had been murdered. I was horrified. At first I intended -to give the alarm. Then I thought that I might be accused of the -crime----" - -"But you had no motive," said Laura, "unless you knew that the money -would come to you in the event of her death." - -"I did not know that," said Arnold quickly; "no one was more -astonished than I when I heard of the will. But at the time I was -overcome by the horror of the deed. I had not my wits about me. I -wondered how Flora came there. Then, my being her cousin and having -the latch-key. O Laura, can you not guess that I lost my head! waited -to see how I could escape. I went down the stairs, and then opened the -door. Mulligan was leaning over the gate. I went and spoke to him, and -escaped in the way the papers stated. I lost the latch-key and so I -was connected with the matter. Thanks to my stage dress and make-up, -no one thought I was the man mentioned in the papers. I did not come -forward at the inquest. Now that the money has come to me, I dare -not come forward. Here is the motive for the commission of the -crime,"--Arnold walked up and down the room feverishly---"no one will -believe me guiltless. Laura, don't ask me any more. The peril of my -position overwhelms me." - -"Darling." Laura rose to embrace him. "I believe in your innocence. We -will find out who killed the woman. Do you suspect any one?" - -"No," said Arnold after a pause, and with an effort; "how can I suspect -any one? I know very little of my cousin. But now that I have the -money, I intend to learn the truth. Laura, Professor Bocaros seems to -suspect me. I can't say why he should. He cannot possibly know I was -at the villa on that night. He brought Jasher to me, and to avert all -suspicion, I engaged Jasher to hunt for the assassin." - -"O Arnold, have you laid that bloodhound on your own track?" - -"Yes; it seems foolish, but it is wise. Even if Jasher does learn that -I was at the villa, he will say nothing if I pay him well. He is a -venal creature, as I gathered this morning. He may find the real -criminal, and take this horror out of my life. If he does not, he will -never hurt me if I pay. It is the professor I fear." - -"We must keep the professor quiet, Arnold. Let Mr. Jasher hunt. He may -learn the truth, and that is better than this suspense. But what of -the dagger I brought you?" - -"It is mine. But after showing it to you I went to see my cousin. I -left it there, I fancy, and it must have been Flora who took it to -Ajax Villa--Heaven knows why! Laura, what is to be done?" - -"Wait! wait!" she said, with her arms round him. "You are innocent, -and your innocence will be proved. You employ Jasher. I shall ask Mr. -Tracey to help me." - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -ON THE TRACK - - -Mr. Jasher was a man who in his time had played many parts on the stage -of the world. He loved money, and the ease and comfort which a -judicious expenditure of money would procure. But he was not -sufficiently successful in making an income. Several ventures had -turned out badly before he opened his private inquiry-office, and -hitherto that had not seemed likely to be a triumph. The work was hard -and the pay not very good, and for some months Mr. Jasher had been -contemplating the wisdom of giving up the business and starting as a -theatrical manager. He was fond of the stage, and in the United States -he had produced several dramas at a dead loss. But the English people -being less clever than the Yankees, Jasher thought he would again -venture on a theatrical agency. - -It was about this time that Professor Bocaros called to see him. A -chance of making a great deal of money out of the simple scholar -presented itself to Jasher, and he took up the matter himself. It was -so difficult that the detective--for so he was in fact--did not think -it wise to trust the elucidation of the mystery to meaner hands. He -resolved to attend to it personally, and charge accordingly. The -discovery that the money had passed to Calvert was not pleasing to -Jasher, as he had now to deal with a man more shrewd and less inclined -to pay largely. However, supported by Bocaros, Jasher called at the -Bloomsbury lodgings of the actor, and ended, as has been seen, in -getting the business of hunting down the assassin of Flora Brand. It -was not an easy mystery to unravel. - -"But the first thing to be done," said Mr. Jasher to himself in the -solitude of his office, "is to find out what sort of a cove Calvert -is. If he's what I call a stinger, I'll have to go straight. If he -ain't, I'll buckle to and do my best. But in any way I'll get all the -money I can out of him." - -In pursuance of this amiable resolve, Jasher sought out several -theatrical folk whom he knew well. The report of Calvert was that he -had a strong will, but was very good-natured. It was considered that -he would never be an actor, and old-fashioned stagers believed that it -was merely through his good looks and his fashionable clothes he -obtained engagements. But Jasher knew the jealousy of those connected -with the green-room, and determined to see Calvert act with his own -eyes. According to the force and talent displayed by the young man, he -might be able to estimate the depth of his character. - -Having thus made up his mind, Jasher treated himself to a seat in the -pit of the Frivolity Theatre. The audience was small as the play was -not a great success. "It's a good thing he's got this fortune," was -the agent's reflection, "as this piece won't run long; and being out -of an engagement, he wouldn't have much chance of marrying that girl -he's sweet on, according to old Bocaros." - -The play was not a good one; the best scene being in the middle act, -wherein a masked ball took place. Calvert was dressed as a Venetian, -and looked remarkably handsome in black velvet and gold. During the -scene he had to draw his dagger, and this drew Jasher's attention to -the fact that he wore such a weapon. But he did not give the matter -much thought. It was only when Arnold came on in the last act in a -tweed suit with a reddish pointed beard that he started. It occurred -to him that he had heard from a friend in the police of how the young -man met by Mulligan had been thus attired. A description of the young -man, save in a vague way, had not been put into the papers. And -probably Jasher, but that his mind was full of the murder, would not -have noticed the dress and general appearance. As it was, the -remembrance of the dagger and the fact of the tweed suit and pointed -beard made him reflect. Also the fact that Arnold was engaged to the -sister-in-law of the man to whom the villa belonged made him lay -unusual stress on the matter. - -"Blest if I don't think he's got something to do with the matter, -professor," he said to Bocaros that same evening. - -The Greek, anxious to know how matters were proceeding, had made an -appointment with Jasher at a Soho restaurant after the theatre, and -was now at the supper-table looking more haggard and lean than ever -with his blazing eyes and funereal looks. Disappointed at being -deprived of Mrs. Brand's fortune, Bocaros--as Laura surmised -rightly--was angry with Arnold for having obtained it. The remarks he -had made in the young man's presence were mere fault-finding words, as -he had no reason, on the face of it, to suspect him of being connected -with the crime. Moreover, Arnold's ready acceptance of Jasher as an -agent to search out the matter must have done away with all idea that -he was guilty. No man would be such a fool as to put a bloodhound of -the law on his own track, and when he had succeeded in gaining his end -without danger. But when Jasher made the above remark Bocaros looked -at him eagerly. - -"That is my idea," he declared quickly. "I have no grounds to go upon. -But Calvert is engaged to Miss Mason. In her brother-in-law's house -Flora was killed, so he must know something." - -"Oh, I don't see that," mused Jasher; "you go too fast, professor. Of -course those facts, and the fact that he gets a large income, may seem -suspicious, but being engaged at the theatre every night puts his -guilt out of the question. But to learn all I can about Calvert, I -have asked his understudy to come to supper." Jasher glanced at his -watch. "He'll be here soon, and then we can talk." - -"From your description," said Bocaros, who stuck to his point, -"Calvert is the young man who spoke to Mulligan." - -"I think that. He has the clothes and the beard described by the -officer. But if he was the man, he would hardly be such a fool as to -retain such a make-up." - -"Yes, he would," persisted Bocaros; "safety often lies in danger. If -Calvert had changed his make-up and a description had appeared in the -papers, suspicion would have been excited." - -"True; but no description appeared, or only a vague one." - -"Calvert did not know that. He thought it best to keep to his make-up, -trusting that people--who are generally stupid--would never connect -his stage appearance with that of the man in real life. He is the man, -I am sure, and he came out of the house." - -"But it doesn't say he killed Mrs. Brand." - -"He had ten thousand a year to gain by doing so." - -"Quite right. But the woman was killed before nine, and during that -hour Calvert was engaged at the theatre." - -"That's true enough," said the professor gloomily, "all the same it -seems queer. I believe he is guilty." - -"Hush!" said Jasher, looking round uneasily; "don't talk so loud. You -never know who may hear. Keep to generalities. Ah, here is Hart." - -"The young man who came to the supper-table was a languid and -fashionable youth, who, having run through his money, had gone on the -stage to delight the public. As yet he had not made a success, and, -judging from his looks, never would. Having got into trouble over some -gambling debt, he had enlisted the services of Jasher. That astute -gentleman had managed to settle the affair, and Hart was consequently -willing to be friendly. He sat down with a bored air, and declared -that he was almost dead. He acknowledged his introduction to Bocaros -with a slight and supercilious nod. - -"You work too hard," said Jasher, when Mr. Hart was engaged in eating. - -"It's hard work hanging round the theatre waiting for a chance," said -the other. - -"You have got one," said the detective; "ain't you engaged at the -Frivolity Theatre?" - -"Only as Calvert's understudy," said the discontented youth. "I have to -be at the theatre waiting for my chance should he fall ill. He's too -clever to let me go on, and he can't act a bit. I could make a -magnificent part of the one he spoils." And Hart began to explain the -lines upon which he would--as he put it--create the part. - -"Have you never had an opportunity of playing?" asked the professor, -piling up little bits of bread in a listless manner. - -"I had once," said Hart frankly, "but just my bad luck. I messed up -the chance." - -"Ah," said Jasher quickly, "how was that?" - -"Well, don't you say anything," said Hart, glancing round, "as it -would do me harm with the profession. Nobody will take much notice so -long as it ain't talked about. It's only known in the theatre, and -Calvert, who is a good-natured sort of chap, promised to hold his -tongue." - -"Oh," said Bocaros, meaningly, and looking up with eagerness, "he -promised to hold his tongue, did he? About what?" - -"My messing up my chance. You see Calvert didn't feel well one night, -and I went on. I did act A1, and was scoring all round, when I got so -excited that I fell ill. My heart ain't very strong," added the youth, -"and that's why I can't take Turkish baths." - -"Well, well," said Jasher, looking a very benevolent stout gentleman, -and sipping his wine with relish, "what happened when you fell ill?" - -"Why, they had to send for Calvert. Luckily he was at his lodgings." - -"Also ill?" put in the professor. - -"No. He said he was ill, but he wasn't. He came and took my place for -the last act, and they said he never acted better in his life." - -"About what time does the third act commence?" - -"About ten." - -"And Calvert came to the theatre at that time?" - -"A few minutes before," said Hart, attacking some cheese. - -"So he was disengaged on that evening up to that time. Ill at home?" - -"He was away from the theatre, if that is what you mean," said the -young man, "but he wasn't ill, so far as I know, in spite of what he -said. It was a fake of some sort. I guess there was a girl in it." - -"What do you mean?" asked Bocaros excitedly. - -Hart started. "Why, nothing. Only some of our chaps were ragging him -about getting away that evening to meet a girl." - -"Did he deny that he was going to do so?" - -"No. He laughed and coloured. A shy chap is Calvert." - -Bocaros intervened. "Can you tell me what night this was?" - -"What do you want to know for?" asked Hart suspiciously. - -"It's merely curiosity," said Jasher smoothly; "you needn't trouble -about the matter, if you don't like." - -"I don't care two straws," said Hart, with a good-natured laugh, "but -I can't understand what you fellows are driving at. Catch me -forgetting the night I got my chance. It was the 24th of July." - -"Jasher and Bocaros looked significantly at one another, but the -interchange was lost on Hart, who was attending to his wine. The -conversation then drifted into subjects connected with Mr. Hart's -career, and he finally departed quite unaware that he had been made -use of. - -"What do you think now?" asked Bocaros triumphantly. - -"Well, Calvert was absent on that night, and he resembles the young -man who lured Mulligan away. Also he wears a dagger in the second act -of the play which he might have used." - -"He did use it," said the professor positively; "the wound was made by -a stiletto, according to the medical evidence. It is a stiletto he -wears. And he was absent between six and half-past nine, the very time -the doctor said the woman was killed. Besides," went on Bocaros -excitedly, "Calvert knows Fane very well. He might have thus obtained -possession of the key." - -"Fane swore it was never out of his possession. - -"He may have done that to shield Calvert, seeing the man is going to -marry Miss Mason." - -"True enough," said Jasher, rising. "Well, Calvert himself has given -me the funds to prosecute the search. It will be queer if I run him -down. I guess he'll be willing to let sleeping dogs lie if I do run -him to earth." - -"No," said the professor determinedly; "if Calvert is guilty he must -be punished." - -"You leave matters in my hands," retorted Jasher, his good-natured -face growing black. "I'm going to make money out of this." - -Bocaros changed the subject, for no apparent reason. "How did you get -money to prosecute your inquiries?" - -"Calvert told his solicitors to give me what I wanted. I saw Merry, -and obtained a cheque for fifty. That's enough to go on with." - -"What do you intend to do now?" - -"Go to his lodgings and see what his landlady knows." - -Bocaros thought. "There's another thing you might do," said he. "I -know that Emily Doon is the sister of Calvert's landlady. You might -question her. She will be with her sister to-morrow, and, as you know, -she is Mrs. Fane's maid." - -Jasher looked keenly at the professor. "That's the girl you are sweet -on," he said smiling. - -"What if I am?" returned Bocaros sharply; "she is a nice, good girl, -and handsome. She adores me," cried Bocaros, on whose head the -unaccustomed champagne had taken effect, "and I will marry her when I -am rich." - -"Will you ever be rich?" - -"If Calvert is the man who killed Flora Brand, yes," said Bocaros, and -with a grim smile he departed. Jasher looked after him and shrugged -his shoulders. - -"I must keep you in order," said he to himself, "or you will spoil the -whole thing." - -But however little the detective may have trusted Bocaros, he made -use of the information he had received. At three o'clock the next day -he went to ask if Calvert was at home. But he did not make the inquiry -until he saw Calvert drive away in a cab. Mrs. Varney appeared with -her ingratiating smile, and assured him that the young man was out. -"He has gone to Troy," said Mrs. Varney, "but of course we know what -that means. A handsome young lady, Mr. Jasher." - -"Hullo!" said the detective, starting; "and how do you come to know my -name, ma'am?" - -"Oh,"--Mrs. Varney tossed her head in a light-comedy way--"my sister -knows the professor, and the professor knows you. The fact is----" - -"Oh, that's all right. The professor (and a nice gentleman he is, -though but a foreigner) told me of his weakness." - -"Weakness, indeed!" This time Mrs. Varney frowned as a tragedy-queen. -"Professor Bocaros ought to be proud of having a handsome young lady -like my sister admiring him." - -"Well," said Jasher, who wished to get an interview with Miss Doon, -and guessed the right way to go about the matter, "he is a man who -will be able to give her a good position." - -"Do you know everything about him?" asked the landlady eagerly. - -"Everything. I am his man of business," lied Mr. Jasher. - -"Oh!" She looked longingly at the detective, not suspecting his real -profession. "Won't you come inside for a few minutes. My sister is -with me, and I am sure she would be pleased to meet Mr. Bocaros's man -of business. When she marries him she will naturally be brought much -into contact with you." - -"I fear I am too busy, ma'am," said the man, playing his fish. - -"Oh, but do come in," pleaded Mrs. Varney. - -"Well, then, for five minutes," said Jasher, and this was how he came -in a short time to be seated in a cosy parlour opposite to a tall, -bold-looking young woman, with a hard mouth and big eyes almost as -large and black as the professor's own. She resembled her sister in -looks, and was scarcely less theatrical. After expressing her pleasure -at seeing Jasher, and being determined--as he soon saw--not to let him -go until she knew everything about Bocaros, she invited him to a cup -of tea. Mrs. Varney went out to get the tea, and Jasher found himself -being pumped by Miss Doon. - -"I met the professor quite casually," she said, "having been insulted -by a man one evening in the Nightingales' Walk. I cried for help, and -the professor smote the ruffian to the earth. Then he asked me into -his rustic home, and was quite the gentleman. We have been quite the -best of friends for over a year," sighed Miss Doon sentimentally, "and -lately he has given me to understand that he desires a nearer and -dearer tie." - -"Why don't you marry him, then?" - -Miss Doon smiled and looked significantly at the detective. "I do not -care about living in so damp a house as 'The Refuge,'" she said. "I -will marry the professor when he can give me a better home. I suppose -he is not well off?" - -"At present he isn't," said the professor's man of business, "but some -day he may come in for a few thousands a year." - -"Oh!" Miss Doon gasped, "how delicious. I would certainly marry him -then and leave my present place. Not that I have anything to complain -of," she added graciously, "but I have always felt that it was my high -lot to be a lady of rank." - -"Quite so. And if the professor gets this money he can resume his -rank, which is that of a Greek baron." - -"Oh, good gracious!" Miss Doon gasped again; "then I would be the -Baroness Bocaros." - -"Certainly. But you had better stop in your place for a time till the -professor gets his money. I suppose you get on well with Mrs. Fane?" - -"We are like sisters," said the fair Emily; "she entrusts me with all -her secrets." - -"Has she secrets?" asked Jasher quickly. - -Miss Doon coloured, tossed her head, and bit her lip. She saw that she -had said too much. "I am true to my mistress, sir," said she loftily, -"and what she asked me to do, I did, without betraying her." - -Jasher was puzzled. He thought the girl was a fool to talk thus, and -wondered what Mrs. Fane could have asked her to do. However, it was -not a propitious moment to get the truth out of the maid as she was -now more or less on her guard, so he deftly changed the conversation. -"I suppose you find Ajax Villa unpleasant after the murder?" he -suggested. - -Miss Doon closed her eyes. "Don't speak of it. My nerves are -shattered. It's awful. And to think no one ever knew who killed the -poor soul." - -"I suppose you don't?" - -"Certainly not," replied Miss Doon violently, "I was at the seaside -with the other servants. I know nothing." - -"Are the other servants pleasant?" asked Jasher, baffled again. - -Emily shrugged her ample shoulders. "Oh yes," she said; "Gander, the -cook, is the most amusing." Here she began to laugh. "We had such a -joke the other day," she added. "I intended to tell the professor." - -"What was that?" asked the detective carelessly. Miss Doon recounted -the episode of the dagger. "It was in the dustbin, and Gander thought -the jewels were real. She gave notice, only to find that the dagger -was a stage jewel that had been worn by Mrs. Fane at a fancy ball." - -"You knew that, I suppose?" said Jasher, much interested. - -"No. She has not been to a fancy ball since I was with her, and that -is three years. But she said the dagger was hers, and Gander was in a -great state." - -Jasher asked for a description of the dagger, which she gave. Then -Mrs. Varney returned with the tea, and the conversation became more -general. But the detective left with a firm conviction that Calvert -had left the dagger in the dust-hole after killing the woman. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -THE NEW TENANT - - -Arnold one day received a note from Luther Tracey asking him to call -at Fairy Lodge, Coleridge Lane, Hampstead. Wondering what the American -was doing in that house, Calvert lost no time in obeying the summons. -He knew Tracey very slightly, having only met him when paying a visit -to the Baldwins, when Laura was stopping there. But he was aware that -Tracey was a smart man, and long-headed. It struck Calvert as possible -that Laura might have consulted with the American about the matter of -the murder, and that this invitation might be the outcome of a -consultation between them. And it was creditable to Calvert's sagacity -that this is precisely what had happened. - -On arriving at Fairy Lodge, Arnold saw the engineer in the garden with -his inevitable cigarette in his mouth. - -"Well, I guess you're a smart chap," said Tracey, shaking hands -heartily. "You don't let the grass grow under your feet like the -majority of these English. No!" - -"I think curiosity brings me up so quickly," said Arnold as they -strolled up to the door. "I was wondering what you were doing in this -galley." - -"All in good time, sir," replied the imperturbable Luther. "Just slide -your eye round the ranch before you go in. Not a bad shanty? No; I -surmise that poor woman was death on flowers, and hadn't the dollars -to start an orchid-house." - -"She was poor," said Arnold, a trifle sadly. "Her husband did not -allow her much money, she told me; but perhaps he didn't make much." - -"Well, a drummer in our land generally can rake in the dollars. Did -you ever see this Brand?" - -"No," replied Calvert emphatically, "I never did." - -Luther looked sideways out of the corner of his eye, and saw that the -colour was rising in the young man's face. "Know something about him, -maybe. Yes?" - -"I know very little," answered Arnold coldly. "Only what Mrs. Brand -told me, and she was rather reserved on the subject. Brand, as I -learned from her, was a commercial traveller." - -"What line did he travel in?" - -"I don't know; I never asked. But his business took him away a great -deal, and my cousin was left a lot to herself." - -"Any children?" - -"None. They had been married five or six years, I believe. The fact -is," he added, "Mrs. Brand did not speak very kindly of her husband. -She seemed to think he was keeping something from her." - -Luther pitched away his cigarette and lighted another. "Well, now, I -guess that's my idea right along. There's a mystery about Brand, and -not a very straight one, seeing he couldn't tell the woman he swore to -love, honour, and obey. There ain't nothing about leaving for long -periods in the marriage service, I reckon. And it's strange he's not -turned up, seeing she's murdered." - -"Well," said Arnold slowly, and following the American into the room, -"I believe Brand went to Australia to see if he was related to the man -who left Flora this fortune." - -"Yes. It's queer his name should be Brand also. A woman generally -marries out of her name. It's a fact. Well, if he's in Australia I -expect he won't turn up for some time. When he does----" - -"What will happen?" asked Calvert, with a troubled look. - -"The truth will come to light." - -"Do you mean to say that the man killed her?" - -"I guess I don't mean to say anything," returned Tracey coolly, and -stretching his long limbs on a couch. "But now we're tiled in--you -ain't a mason, I suppose? No. But we're private here, so fire along." - -"What about?" - -"I want to know----" - -"So do I," broke in Arnold. "I want to know what you are doing here?" - -"Oh, there's nothing low about me, sir. I had a yarn with that young -lady who is as sweet as a daisy, and she told me enough to make me -take root in this place. Such a time I had with the old hermit who -owns the shanty. I had to give references and pay rent in advance, and -do all kinds of things to fix up matters. But yesterday I moved in, -and wrote you straight away. And here I stay till I learn the truth. -And a mighty long time that'll be, anyhow." - -Arnold, who was sitting in the chair with his face turned to the -light, stared. "I don't quite understand!" - -"No! Ah, that's the fault of you English. You want a heap of -explanations, like that Old Methuselah who let me the ranch. It's this -way. I'm engaged to Gerty B., and she's a friend of Miss Mason. Now -I've cottoned to Miss Mason, and I've sized you up as a decent sort of -old horse, so I'm going to see if I can pull you out of this mess. -Yes, sir. Luther Tracey don't go back on a friend. I guess I stop here -till the husband comes home from Australia and drops in here to see -his loving wife. And he don't leave that front door until I get the -truth out of him. I'm a clean shot, too," added Mr. Tracey, musingly. -"There ain't no flies on me. No!" - -Arnold was puzzled. "What do you know about me, that you talk so?" - -"All that Miss Mason could tell me. She landed round to see Gerty B. -in a devil of a state. That stuck-up sister had been lathering into -her, I guess. She wouldn't tell Gerty B., and just howled. So I came -along and sent Gerty B. to look after old momma Baldwin--to keep her -on the tiles. Yes, sir. Then I sat down and extracted the truth out of -Miss Mason." - -"What?" the blood rushed violently to Mr. Calvert's face. "Did Laura -tell you----" - -"Everything. You bet she did, and I wiped her pretty eyes with my silk -handkerchief. There ain't no call to fire up. I'm engaged to Gerty B., -and I don't loot another man's shanty. No, sir. I'm square and -straight. Miss Mason told me everything about your going to the villa, -and the dagger and all that poppy-cock. I told her to go slow and lie -down, and then lighted out for this rookery. Now I've got you here I -want you to tell me everything I don't know." - -Arnold, reserved like all Englishmen, was annoyed that this -inquisitive Yankee should interfere in his affairs. But the face of -the man was so genial, and displayed such interest, that he could not -help laughing. "It's very kind of you, Tracey," he admitted, "and -there is no one whose help I would like better. But I have already -engaged a detective to look after the matter." - -"Right enough," responded Luther, lighting another cigarette. "But I -work for the love of Gerty B., who's death on seeing you and Miss -Mason hitched in double harness. I'll do better than your 'tec, I -guess. Now come along and put your soul into the matter." - -"But I've got nothing more to say, man. Miss Mason has apparently told -you everything." - -"In the way women do tell--generally and without the detail I want, -sir. But Miss Mason was crying so, and I was consoling her so, that I -didn't catch on to everything, Calvert." Here Tracey's voice became -more earnest. "Just you trust me to the hilt. I'm your friend, right -away through, and God knows you need one." - -"Do you think I am in danger?" - -"On the face of it, I do." - -"But I can produce an _alibi_." - -"Good again. What's that, anyhow?" - -"Just this. I was asleep in my lodgings up till nine o'clock on that -night, and only went down to the theatre half an hour later. I believe -that the woman was killed between eight and nine." - -"That's all right enough," assented the American, looking at the ash -of his cigarette. "But you were in the house later, and you've come in -for the money, and the dagger was yours. There may be a way of the -prosecution getting out of the woman having been killed so early, and -then you get left." - -"Tracey, I swear when I saw the body it was almost cold." - -"Then why didn't you call in the police?" - -"Because I lost my head," said Arnold, much distressed. - -Luther shook his head. "The very time when you should have kept it. If -you had called in the police and explained how you came to be at the -villa, all would have been well." - -"But the money being left to me," expostulated Calvert. - -"You didn't know that at the time?" - -"No. I only knew when Merry wrote me." - -"Then there's no motive, though the prosecution might try to prove you -knew from Mrs. Brand beforehand." - -"Tracey, why do you talk about prosecution? There's no chance of----" - -"Of arrest," finished the American, neatly. "There just is, and don't -you make any mistake about it. That professor chap won't give up the -money without a try to get some." - -"You mistrust him?" - -"Oh, I reckon so. When he kept to his studies he was a harmless sort -of cuss, but now he's taken a hand in this game with the chance of a -fortune if he wins, why, he'll stick at nothing to land his stake. You -go ahead, Calvert, and tell me what you told Miss Mason. Then I'll -smooth it out and tot up." - -Seeing that the American really wished to be a friend, and having -considerable belief in his cleverness, Arnold related all that had -taken place from the time he received the forged letter. When he -ended, Tracey expressed a desire to see the letters. But Arnold, -unprepared for this conversation, had not brought them with him. - -"Can you remember the dates?" asked Tracey. "Both were written on the -twenty-third." - -"Hum! And posted on the twenty-fourth. Close running, that." - -"Only one was posted. That supposed to be an answer from me to Laura." - -"And the other was brought by a messenger?" asked Tracey. - -"Yes." - -"Did you reply to the forged letter?" - -"No. Remember I only received it late in the afternoon. Believing it -really came from Laura, I thought I would see her quicker than a -letter could be delivered." - -"Did Miss Mason look at the post-mark?" - -"No. She burnt the envelope too." - -"That's a pity. We might have found in what district the letter was -posted. However, we may learn from the district telegraph office, who -gave in the letter to be delivered on the twenty-fourth." - -"We don't know the office." - -"I'll find it," said Luther coolly, "if I hunt through every office of -that sort in London. By the way, when you were in the house did you -hear any one about?" - -"No. Not a soul. And yet----" he hesitated. - -"Who was singing while you talked to Mulligan?" - -Arnold jumped up and shuddered. "Tracey, I declare that was the most -horrible thing about the business. I don't know." - -"Yet you were in the room." - -"I was, and I saw the dead body, which I recognised as that of my -cousin. I saw the policeman pass and repass out of the window. Then, -thinking he was gone, I went out." - -"Wait a bit. You told Miss Mason, that you saw him leaning over the -gate? Don't make any mistake. This is important." - -Arnold coloured. "I am telling you the exact truth. I was so confused -over the whole business that I mix up things. I left the room before -the singing commenced. I waited in the hall for ten minutes, hoping -the policeman would not come back. Then I opened the door----" - -"Hold on a shake. Why didn't you go up and see who was singing?" - -"Tracey, I couldn't. My nerve was already shaken when I left the room -with the dead in it. I recognised my peril, seeing I knew who she -was--the dead woman, I mean. In the darkness of the hall I was waiting -when I heard a woman's voice singing 'Kathleen Mavourneen.' I was so -shaken that I scarcely knew what to do. All my desire was to get away -from that horrible house. I opened the door, and saw the policeman at -the gate. I hesitated and then faced him--the rest you know." - -Tracey looked at his pointed boots and considered. "What a fool you -were not to steal upstairs and see who was singing. You might have -found the murderess." - -"Murderess!" - -"Yes," said Tracey, getting off the couch, "from the fact of the -singing I guess it was a woman who killed Mrs. Brand." - -"No," said Arnold decidedly; "if a woman had done so, she certainly -would not have risked my return." - -"Oh, I guess she knew you were scared to death. And perhaps she -believed you had cleared out." - -"She would have heard the door close." - -"Not she. You closed it quietly, I reckon." - -"So quietly that Mulligan did not hear." - -"There you see." Luther took a turn up and down the room. "See here, -I'm going to camp out here and search." - -"For what?" asked Calvert, puzzled. - -"For letters, pictures, diaries, and all that sort of thing." - -"You won't find any. Derrick discovered that everything had been -removed, by the murderer no doubt, so that the reason for the crime -would not be discovered." - -"That's so. And you hang on to the fact that it was a woman who -engineered this job. A man wouldn't be so 'cute. She came right along -when all was quiet and looted the house. But I guess Derrick's a fool. -There may be all kinds of papers hanging round. And he didn't examine -the dustbin. Now, I did, and I found a torn photo----" - -"Of Brand?" asked Calvert breathlessly. - -"No; of Mrs. Brand." - -Calvert looked disappointed. - -"Derrick has one already." - -"I guess so, and he don't know what use to make of it. I find on the -photograph, very naturally, the name of the photographer." - -"Well, what of that?" - -"You make me tired," said Tracey impatiently. "I'm going to see if that -man's got a photograph of the husband. Married people sometimes get -taken together. If Mrs. Brand had a photo taken at this man's place, -she would probably, when she wanted another, or to be photographed -with her husband, go there. Don't you catch on? Besides, the husband -may have gone with her without being taken. Oh, I'll get his picture." - -"But what good will that do?" - -"Well, it might put a clue into our hands. He may have loved the woman -who stabbed his wife." - -"It's all theory," said Arnold impatiently. - -"And I guess it will be, till we get down to the bed-rock of the -business," said the American dryly. "However--hullo Snakes, what's -that row?" - -"It's a ring at the bell," said Arnold, peering out of the window. He -then drew back with a look of surprise. "It's Jasher." - -"Great Scot! What's he come here for? All the better: we'll interview -him. I'd like to see the sort of man you have running the biz. We -might syndicate. Yes--oh I guess so." - -In a few minutes Jasher, round and rosy and fat and short of breath, -was in the room, expressing his surprise at the sight of his employer. - -"I just came up to have a look at the house," said he; "and never -expected to see you here, or Mr. Tracey either." - -"What's that?" queried Tracey, "you know my name?" - -"Jasher sat down and wiped his bald forehead. - -"I had the pleasure of seeing you out of the window of Professor -Bocaros's house. You were walking with a young lady. He told me your -name and----" - -"That's all right. Well, sir, I'm hanging out here, looking after this -case. Yes, you bet I've taken a hand." - -"Jasher looked annoyed, and turned to Calvert. - -"You gave the case into my hands, sir," he said in an aggrieved tone. - -"That's as right as a pie," said Tracey coolly, and before Arnold -could speak; "but I guess you're paid, and I'm an amateur. There's no -law against my joining in this old country, is there?" - -"No," said Jasher stiffly; "but I prefer to work alone." - -"Right you are. I'll swing on my own peg. Well"--Tracey lighted his -sixth cigarette--"what's doing?" - -Jasher, with marked annoyance, turned his broad back on the man who -was meddling--as he considered it--with his business, and addressed -himself to Arnold. - -"Do you wish me to report, sir?" - -"If you please," said Calvert, amused by the detective's anger. - -"I would rather do it alone." - -Tracey lifted his shoulders. - -"I'll take a hand at patience in another room," said he, sauntering to -the door. "Call me when the pow-pow's over, Calvert," and he went out -singing, with Jasher looking after him distrustfully. - -"Well, Jasher, what is it?" asked Calvert, sitting down again. - -The detective took a seat, and looked sadly at his employer. The two -could hear Tracey singing in the back garden, so they talked in their -ordinary tones. Shortly the singing stopped, but then Jasher was too -much engrossed to think Tracey might be listening. However, he set the -door of the room ajar so that the American's ear should not be at the -keyhole. Having taken this precaution, he sat down, and as above -stated looked sadly at his employer. - -"Why don't you trust me, sir?" he asked reproachfully. - -"In what way?" asked Calvert, turning cold. - -"Well, sir, you mayn't know it, but Professor Bocaros grudges you this -fortune, and wants to get up a case against you." - -"I fancy he'll find that difficult. Has he been troubling you?" - -"He wanted me to play low down," said Jasher gloomily; "but as you are -my employer, and have the money--I must be frank," he broke off in a -burst of confidence--"you have the cash and Bocaros hasn't, so I stick -to you." - -"Thanks!" said Arnold dryly. "Well?" - -"I am still friends with Bocaros," went on Jasher calmly, "as I don't -want him to suspect, and I must keep an eye on him. However, he's -found out several things." Here Jasher stopped and looked at Arnold -firmly. "You, sir, were the man with the pointed beard who spoke to -Mulligan, and had the latch-key." - -"How can you prove that?" asked Calvert quietly. - -"Well, sir, I went to the theatre and saw that your make-up was the -same as that described by Mulligan; also the clothes. Then Bocaros and -I found out from your understudy that you were away from the theatre -till after nine, and the woman was killed about that time. Finally, -Mrs. Fane's maid told me that a stage dagger of the sort you wear in -the second act of the play was found in the dustbin of Ajax Villa. You -inherit the fortune, sir, and that taken in conjunction with these -circumstances makes Bocaros think you killed the poor woman yourself. -I'm afraid I wasn't so careful with the professor as I should have -been," said Jasher apologetically; "but, now I know he is your enemy, -I will keep my eye on him." - -"The professor knows all this?" - -"Yes. He learned something of it from Mrs. Fane's maid, and he was at -supper with me, when we spoke to your understudy, Hart. Bocaros wanted -to go to Derrick with the information; but I persuaded him not to do -so for the present. But there's no denying that you are in a difficult -position, and the professor is dangerous." - -"Calvert pitched his cigarette on the floor and glanced out of the -window. He was not so surprised as Jasher expected him to be, as he -had always mistrusted Bocaros. But he recognised his danger, and spoke -frankly. - -"What do you think, Jasher?" - -"I don't think you did it, sir, if that's what you ask me." - -"Why not. I was the young man who spoke to Mulligan. I went to Troy in -my make-up. I was in the house, and I recognised the body. And the -dagger found in the dustbin is mine. Now, what do you say?" - -"I say that I'm more certain than ever you ain't guilty," said Jasher -doggedly; "you wouldn't put your neck into the noose if you were the -man wanted. And you wouldn't have engaged me to hunt you down to get -hanged." - -"You are very clever, Jasher," said Calvert, with a nervous laugh. "I -am innocent, as you say. This woman was killed before nine." - -"So the doctor said at the inquest, sir." - -"Then, if you will ask my landlady you will find that I was asleep in -my room at that time. A messenger came from the theatre asking me to -finish the piece as----" - -"As Hart was ill. I know that. But did you go later?" - -"Yes. I went to keep an appointment with Miss Mason. It was made for -half-past nine, and when I got to the villa she wasn't there. I -entered the house, and after seeing the dead body I came out, dreading -lest I should be accused of killing my cousin. The dagger I left in -this house by mistake, so I have no doubt she took it with her to Ajax -Villa for some purpose, and was killed with it. Who killed her I am -not in a position to say. So you see, Jasher, I can prove an _alibi_." - -Jasher nodded and seemed relieved. - -"I'm glad you have so clear a defence, sir," said he heartily. "I -should not like to have been the means of hunting you down. But what -was Mrs. Brand doing at the villa?" - -"Ah! that I can't tell you." - -"Jasher asked a great many questions, mostly of the sort which Luther -had asked, and seemed quite puzzled. Calvert told Jasher that the -American suspected a woman of having killed Mrs. Brand. This, however, -Jasher shook his head at. - -"A woman wouldn't have the nerve," he said. "However, I'll think over -that. There's Mrs. Fane, of course." - -"What about her?" asked Arnold angrily. - -"Well, sir, she (as I learn from the professor, who heard it from Miss -Baldwin) hates you, and doesn't want you to marry her sister. The song -sung was hers. So she might have----" - -"Rubbish!" said Arnold, jumping up. "I am surprised at you, man. Mrs. -Fane was at Westcliff-on-Sea." - -"Yes; and I guess she ran away with my car," cried Tracey. - -"What!" said Jasher, pink to the ears. "Have you been listening?" - -"You bet," said Luther coolly; "had my ear to the wall the whole time. -This house is a shell. Now the conversation's come round to my way of -thinking, I've come to sail in. You're a smart man," said Luther, -wringing the detective's hand. "I agree with you. A woman did the -trick, and Mrs. Fane's the woman." - -Jasher felt complimented. "Well, sir, now you are in and know all, I -don't mind your remaining. Mrs. Fane----" - -"I won't hear it," cried Arnold; "it is ridiculous!" - -"Don't see it," argued Tracey. "She's one of these tall women who -could easily overpower a little woman like Mrs. Brand." - -"But what reason had she to kill Mrs. Brand?" - -"She wanted to lay the blame on you and stop your marriage." - -"Stuff and nonsense! Why should she kill Mrs. Brand for that? She did -not know the woman was my cousin, or that money was coming to me; I -didn't know myself till the lawyers wrote after the death." - -"It's a rum case altogether," said Jasher, nursing his chin on his fat -hand. "I can't see my way." - -"I can," said Luther briskly; "you go right along and make inquiries -about Mrs. Fane, and I'll go on my own. Then come here and we'll size -the business up when we pool the notes." - -"But Mrs. Fane was at Westcliff-on-Sea," said Arnold distracted. - -"And she took my motor-car to get back." - -"To Charing Cross?" asked Jasher disbelievingly. - -"You bet. That was a blind. There's a late train to Westcliff-on-Sea -on Saturday night. Mrs. Fane could leave this house when you, Calvert, -left it about eleven. She could rip along in my flier to Charing Cross -in twenty minutes, and then leaving the car there, she could take the -underground to Bishopsgate to catch the late train. That's what she -did. Oh, I've worked it out." - -"Jasher seemed struck with this speech. I'll make inquiries at -Liverpool Street station," he said. "But, sir," he added, turning to -Calvert, "seeing that there is a danger of your being arrested, will -you go on with this case?" - -"Why not? I am innocent!" - -Jasher shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, it's none of my business," said -he. "I know you are innocent, as you can prove the _alibi_, or it would -be my duty to arrest you. But unless you can close the mouth of -Bocaros, he will tell Derrick, and then----" - -"Then I'll face the business out," said Arnold proudly. "I have been a -fool; but I am not a knave or a murderer. What do you say, Tracey?" - -"I'm with you," said the American; "go through with the biz." - -"Jasher shrugged his shoulders. It would be better to bribe the -professor to silence," he said. "However, I have my orders, and I'll -go on." - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -THE PROFESSOR'S COURTING - - -Disappointed of the fortune, Bocaros had to keep on teaching at the -suburban school. He disliked the drudgery of the task, and hated the -boys who did not always treat him respectfully. The poor man had a -miserable time, and the loneliness of his life at the Refuge did not -tend to cheer him. What with his disappointment, the dampness of his -house, his straitened circumstances, let alone the fact that he was in -love, Professor Bocaros found life very hard. - -He really adored Emily Doon. As she had told Jasher, Bocaros had -rescued her from the insults of a ruffian, and since then she had been -kind to the lawman. At first it did not enter her head to marry him, -as she knew how desperately poor he was. But Bocaros was a gentleman, -and Emily warmly desired to marry above her rank. She was a handsome, -ambitious girl with some education, and from reading novels such as -Mrs. Baldwin loved, she became imbued with the idea that she was -destined for a romantic life. Her visions included a title, a large -income, beautiful dresses, and the envy of every one she knew. She -painted a picture of her calling as a countess on Mrs. Fane and of -crushing that stately lady with patronage. Emily did not like Mrs. -Fane very much, as she found her a somewhat severe mistress. Therefore -she was anxious to marry as soon as possible. But those who sought her -hand were in trade, and Bocaros was the only gentleman who seemed to -admire her in a genteel and respectful way. - -The conversation with Jasher put a different complexion on the affair. -According to the professor's man of business, who certainly must know -what he was talking about, Bocaros was a baron, and was likely to come -in for money. It was true that no details had been given, but the mere -hint was sufficient for Emily. She at once decided to encourage the -professor instead of snubbing him, and to this end, having dressed -herself in her best things, she went to pay a visit shortly after five -o'clock, an hour when she knew Bocaros would be within. - -The professor was seated over a small fire, staring darkly into its -red heart, with folded arms. Outside, the twilight was darkening to -night and the wind was rising. But Bocaros did not pay any attention -to the doings of nature. He was wrapped up in the contemplation of his -own troubles. Already he had finished his frugal meal and had put away -the dishes as was his custom. Usually, having lighted his big pipe, he -would read, but on this evening the book lay unopened and the pipe was -laid aside. He began to feel keenly his poverty now that he was in -love. There seemed to be no chance of his marrying Emily, and so far -as he could see, unless he could bend his pride to accept money from -Calvert he would have to pass the rest of his days in that damp house -until too old to earn his bread. Then the wolf would rush in at the -door and drive him to the workhouse. No wonder the poor man was -angered by the good fortune of Arnold. - -When a sharp knock came to the door, Bocaros, wrapped in his gloomy -thoughts, took no notice. Again came the knock in a still more -peremptory manner. This time he heard, and wondering who was calling -on such a recluse as himself, he went to the door. Here he expected to -find Tracey or Mrs. Baldwin, who were the only people who ever came to -the dull little house in the fields. But when he saw Emily fashionably -arrayed, smirking at the door and flashing her great eyes on him, the -poor man was so amazed that he fell back a step and gasped. - -"I hope I'm not unwelcome," said Miss Doon, with dignity. - -"Ah, my dear young lady, enter my humble home," gasped the professor, -wondering if this was all "a beautiful dream. How can you think but -what I am honoured far beyond my worth." - -"The foreign style of compliment," simpered Emily entering, "is what I -would expect from one of the nobility." - -"Bocaros did not hear. He conducted her to the study and made her sit -in the big armchair. Then he heaped on coals and wood in reckless -profusion, and volunteered to make his fair visitor a cup of tea. - -"The English love tea," said the professor, hastening to the kitchen. -"In a moment you shall have some, mademoiselle." - -"How sweet," sighed Emily, who liked the foreign title. But when alone -she cast her eyes round the room, and mentally decided that Bocaros -was even harder up than she expected to find him. Emily was a shrewd -girl where her vanity was not concerned, and had no notion of throwing -herself away. Unless she knew for certain that Bocaros was a baron and -that the money would really come to him, she decided that she would -never permit him to make her his wife. She was fond of fine dress, in -which her wages did not permit her to indulge. Already she was in -debt, and should the professor propose she knew not how she would be -able to get a trousseau together worthy of the occasion. "But I can -get Fanny to help," thought the astute Emily. Fanny was Mrs. Varney. -"She will do anything when she hears I have decided to marry a foreign -nobleman like Count Fosco in the _Woman in White!_" which comparison -was rather hard on the guileless Bocaros. - -Shortly he returned with a cup of tea. Emily accepted the attention -graciously. But the tea was inferior, the china was thick, so she made -a wry face and drank very little of the comforting beverage. The -professor did not notice her distaste. He closed the window, drew the -threadbare curtains and lighted the lamp. Having made the room as -comfortable as was possible he sat down and poked the fire into a -brighter blaze, then smiled cheerfully at Miss Doon. She was secretly -amazed at the result produced by her visit in the man's looks. He -appeared to be years younger--there was a colour in his face, a softer -light in his aggressive eyes, and his demeanour was almost gay. She -thought that if he were better dressed and had more flesh on his poor -bones, he might be a handsome man after a sort. She might do worse -than marry him, always presuming that he really had a title, and was -possessed--in the near future--of money. - -"You have no idea what pleasure it gives me to see you seated at my -poor hearth," said Bocaros, smiling brightly. - -"It's very nice," replied Emily, also smiling. "But I suppose some day -you will be able to afford a better house?" - -"I might. One never knows, as you English say. And were I rich, do you -know what I should do?" - -"Marry, I suppose. When a gentleman has a house he always looks for a -lady to share it." - -"The difficulty is to get the lady." - -"Oh, really, sir, in your case there should be no difficulty." - -Bocaros brightened still more. "Do you really think so, mademoiselle? I -am old, I am poor, I have no position, and----" - -"But a baron has a position!" - -"Who told you I was a baron?" asked Bocaros suspiciously. - -"Mr. Jasher, your man of business. Isn't it true?" - -"Yes," said the Greek slowly, and with his eyes on the fire, "it is -strictly true. I am a baron in my country, as I come of a noble -family. But I dropped the title when I came to teach in England. Yes! -I told Jasher I was a baron. How did he come to tell you?" - -"There was no need for Bocaros to ask this question. Jasher had -reported the conversation to him, and had advised him to resume his -title if he wished to make an impression on Miss Doon's worldly heart. -As a matter of fact Bocaros was really entitled to the title he -claimed. He belonged to a decayed family and the title was all that -remained. As it was out of keeping in his position, and the man was -proud, he never gave any one to understand that he had this rank, and -was contented with the appellation of professor. Unused to the ways of -women, it had never struck him that the title would be of value in -Miss Doon's eyes when it was not gilded with money. But he saw from -her looks that she really thought a great deal of it, and mentally -thanked Jasher for having supplied him with this bird-lime to lure his -fowl. - -"How delightful!" said Miss Doon. "And your wife will be a baroness?" - -"Oh yes. But where am I to find a wife?" - -Emily's eyes told him, but with the ineradicable coquetry of a woman -her tongue contradicted her glances. "Good gracious me, baron"--she -rolled the sweet morsel on her tongue--"how should I know? Really I -wish you would not look at me like that. It's hardly proper for a -young lady to call on a foreign nobleman. I believe they are not to be -trusted. The noblemen, you know--so gay and dashing they are." - -Bocaros laughed a little sadly. "I fear I am anything but that," he -said. "Not at all the bridegroom for you." - -"Really, professor--I must call you by the dear old name--I hope you -are not making a proposal." - -"Does it offend you?" asked Bocaros timidly. - -"I'm sure I don't know. I have never been proposed to before, as I -have always been hard to suit." - -"Would I suit you?" - -"Miss Doon having extracted a direct question got to business at once, -but veiled her common-sense under a delightful confusion. I really -don't know, baron--I must call you by that name, it sounds so -high-class--really I don't know. Of course I was born for a coronet." - -"It would look well on that delicate head." - -"I'm sure it would," replied Miss Doon, with conviction. "But you see, -baron, I must have a gold coronet, and you"--she looked round the -room. - -"Yes," said Bocaros sadly. "I am poor--miserably poor. But," his eyes -blazed so suddenly that she drew back startled, "you may be able to -make me rich." - -"Baron, I do not grasp your meaning." - -Bocaros looked at her doubtfully. "Are you a strong-minded woman?" he -asked; "are you willing to do something for money?" - -Emily grew nervous. "What do you mean, professor?" - -"I mean that I can obtain an income of some thousands a year if you -will help me to get it." - -The bait was too tempting for Miss Doon to resist, so she nibbled. - -"So long as it is anything a lady can do," she observed modestly. "And -I am confident, baron, that you would not like the future bearer of -your noble coronet to do anything wrong." - -"You could never do wrong in my eyes." - -"Ah, but there are other eyes one has to consider," said Emily in a -shrewd manner. "You had better speak plainly." - -"I will, if you promise to hold your tongue. If what I am about to say -gets abroad, farewell to the money and to my resuming my title." - -"It's nothing wrong, I hope," faltered Emily, rather taken aback by -this earnestness. "Although I am not a prude I should never think of -doing anything to----" - -"No, no! All I ask you to do is to give me some information." - -"Information! Good gracious! what information can I give you?" - -"Bocaros rose and began to walk with his hands in his pockets. I -suppose you remember the White Room crime," he said slowly. - -Miss Doon shrieked. "Oh, don't talk of it, baron. It has ruined my -nerves. I can't----" - -The professor interrupted ruthlessly. "Has it ruined the nerves of -your mistress?" he asked sharply. - -Emily sat up and became more of a servant and an artful woman. "What's -that?" - -"Must I put the matter plainly?" sneered the professor? - -"Yes," she replied quietly, "if you wish me to understand." - -"Then I will. The woman who was murdered was my cousin. She left me -ten thousand a year--hush, don't interrupt. Arnold Calvert, however, -got round her in some way and she altered her will, leaving the money, -which was rightfully mine, to him. I hate him, and I want half the -money at least. I have reason to believe that he killed this -woman--hush, don't interrupt--and if I can bring the crime home to -him, I can make him hush it up by his giving me five thousand a year. -If you will help me to prove his guilt, I will marry you and make you -a baroness as soon as the income is safe." - -"Emily stared, and in her clever mind calculated the chances of -benefiting by this confidence. I don't see how I can help," she said, -to gain time. - -"I do. Did you read the case as reported in the papers?" - -"Yes. But it said nothing about Mr. Calvert." - -"He was the young man who spoke to the constable. Now, when he left -the house my cousin was lying dead in the White Room, and a woman, to -distract the attention of the police, was singing. The song that she -sung is a favourite of Mrs. Fane's." - -Emily now began to see whither these remarks tended. "Yes?" - -"Yes!" repeated the professor impatiently. "Is that all you have to -say? Do you not understand?" - -"No, I don't, really, I don't." - -"Bah!" he turned his back roughly on her. "You are of no use to me." - -"But I may be," said Miss Doon meaningly. - -"Yes. If you like. Do you know what I want?" - -"You want to make out that Mrs. Fane was singing in the room." - -Bocaros nodded. "I know Mrs. Fane was supposed to be at the seaside. -But you told Jasher that you did something for Mrs. Fane, and would -not betray her. What was it you did?" - -"I said I would not betray her," said Emily, not seeing how the affair -would turn out to her advantage. - -"Then you will never be my wife." - -"If you loved me----" - -"It is not a question of love," he interrupted imperiously. "How can I -marry you and bring you to this hovel?" - -"I should not come. Give me a good home and----" - -"Well," he interrupted again impatiently, "the chance of obtaining a -good home lies in your hands. I swear I will make you a baroness if -you will help me to get the money." - -Emily fenced. "Do you think Mr. Calvert is guilty?" she asked. - -"Yes, decidedly. I am as sure of that, as I am that Mrs. Fane was in -the room assisting him to escape." - -"But why should she do that?" - -"Because she loves him----" - -"Oh, good gracious!" Miss Doon started from her seat. "Really, that is -impossible." - -"I tell you she loves him," repeated Bocaros grimly, "and that is why -she is so averse to her sister marrying him. Calvert got to know that -the will was made in his favour, and lured Flora to the White Room. -There Calvert or Mrs. Fane killed her--don't shriek." - -"I must," said Miss Doon excitedly. "Do you think that Mrs. Fane--Oh, -I can't believe--And yet----" - -"Ah! Then she _was_ up in town on that night?" - -"I never said so," retorted Emily promptly. - -"What is the use of fencing in this way?" cried Bocaros roughly. "I am -sure that my guess is correct. I was certain after what you let slip -to Jasher, and----" - -"She has been a good mistress to me," said Emily, crying. - -"Because she chose to. But she is a hard and cruel woman!" - -"She's all that. She would kill me, did she know that I told." - -"Bah! Once in the hands of the law she can do nothing. Come, Emily, my -dear wife that is to be, tell me. She was in town." - -"Yes," confessed Emily. Then, having taken the leap, she hurried on: -"I will tell you all now, but mind you keep your promise. If you -don't, I will deny everything; and you can't do without me." - -The professor kissed her hand gravely. "I have no wish to do without -you, my dear," he said. "Go on; tell me all." - -"When we were at the seaside," said Miss Doon, sitting down again, "I -noticed that the mistress was worried. She got worse and worse, and -always quarrelled with her husband." - -"Was he with her all the time?" - -"Yes. On the twenty-fourth----" - -"The time of the murder," said Bocaros, under his breath. - -"Mr. Fane received a letter which made him turn pale. I took the -letters up to him in the morning-room, as the man asked me to. When he -opened the letter he turned pale, and put it into his pocket. Mrs. -Fane was in the room. She looked sharply at him, but said nothing. But -when I left they had a quarrel. At all events, Mrs. Fane looked -furious all the day. Mr. Fane said he was ill with a cold----" - -"Was he really ill?" asked the professor suspiciously. - -"Well, he had a cold, but not a bad enough one to make him go to bed -as he did. He took to his room, and Mrs. Fane attended to him herself. -All day she was with him. Just before six she came out of his room, -and told his man that he was asleep and was not to be disturbed. She -then called me into her room, and told me that she had to go away on -business. She did not want it to be known that she was out of the -house, and asked me to put on one of her dresses and sit all the -evening in the drawing-room till she came back." - -"Did she explain why she went to town?" - -"No. Nor did I ask. I never thought that anything was wrong. I fancied -she might have gone up to see Mr. Frederick Mason, as she was always -calling on him. She had quarrelled with her husband, so I thought the -letter he received was about some business that was wrong----" - -"What business?" - -"The business of Mason & Son. Mr. Fane is a partner with Mr. Mason, -but Mrs. Fane attends to matters. As I say, she often went to see her -brother, and I thought she did so on this night unbeknown to Mr. Fane. -For that reason, as I supposed, she wanted me to pretend to be her, so -that neither he nor the servants would think she had been out of the -house. I said Mr. Fane might want me, but she said he would not, as -she had given him a sleeping-draught, and he would not awaken till the -morning. Well, she paid me so well that I agreed. I put on her dress -and sat in the drawing-room. She told the servants to go to bed when -they liked, as she would require nothing more. So all the evening I -was not disturbed, and the servants, thinking I had gone out--I made -up a story for them," said Emily artfully--"never came near me. My -mistress caught the six train up." - -"At what time did she come back?" - -"After midnight. She caught the last train down." - -"Did she seem disturbed?" - -"Not at all. She simply came in and said that she had done her -business. Then she paid me the money and sent me to bed, after hearing -that all was well, and that the other servants suspected nothing. Then -she remained in the drawing-room looking over some papers." - -"You suspected nothing wrong?" - -"I did not," replied Miss Doon, with assurance. "Not until you spoke -of her singing the song did I think anything wrong." - -"Yet you read the report at the inquest." - -"I did. But it never struck me that----" - -"I see," interrupted Bocaros, rubbing his hands. "Well, you can be -quite sure, Emily, that Mrs. Fane came to Ajax Villa on that night. -Can she drive a motor-car?" - -"Yes. She had one down at Westcliff-on-Sea." - -"Then it's her, without a doubt. She stole Tracey's motor-car, and -leaving it in Charing Cross station-yard, went along by the -underground to Liverpool Street, where she caught the last train. -Jasher told me that Tracey's own idea is, that a woman did this, and -that a woman killed Mrs. Brand. Ah! with your evidence we'll have -her." - -"What will you do?" - -"Do?" said the professor. "I'll get five thousand a year from Calvert, -or have both him and Mrs. Fane arrested. Your evidence will hang her -and give him a life-sentence." - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -A SURPRISE - - -Tracey, in the interests of the lovers, continued to live in the -cottage at Hampstead. Webb had let him the house furnished, and Luther -made himself comfortable in a bachelor fashion. He cooked his own -meals, and made his own bed, and kept the house as neat as a new pin. -One day Gerty came to see him, accompanied by her mother. How she -induced that lymphatic woman to come was a mystery. Tracey was not -easily astonished, but he was fairly taken aback when he saw stout -Mrs. Baldwin being towed up the path by Gerty. It was like a -breathless steam-tug conducting a three-decker out of port. - -"What I've suffered," said Mrs. Baldwin, sinking into a basket-chair -which almost collapsed under her weight, "no one can understand." - -"Oh come, mother," said Gerty cheerfully, "you had a cab to the top of -the hill, and my arm to the door." - -"You are nothing to lean upon," sighed Mrs. Baldwin. "If it was Rufus, -now. He had an arm like a blacksmith, and the soul of a poet." - -Tracey giggled. He was amused by Mrs. Baldwin's whimsical ways. "Will -you tell me what brought you here?" he asked, with his arm round -Gerty. - -"You may well ask that," said Mrs. Baldwin, fanning herself with her -handkerchief; "and if you have such a thing as wine----" - -"Only whisky--old Bourbon," snapped Luther, and supplied Mrs. Baldwin -with a brimming glass in spite of her asseveration that she never took -such strong drink. If not, she appreciated it, and finished the glass -while talking. - -"Gerty must tell you what I want," she said, nursing the glass. - -Luther turned to his fianc�e with an inquiring look. Something very -strange must have occurred to bring Mrs. Baldwin so far. - -"Mother is upset," said Gerty: "she fancies she saw her husband." - -"My second," explained Mrs. Baldwin. "Not Gerty's father, who was a -gentleman, but Rufus." - -"The man with the blacksmith's arm and poet's soul," said Luther. "I -thought he was dead and buried long ago." - -"No," said the old lady. "I have never seen any announcement of his -death. He is alive, and I saw him. Two nights ago I was reclining in -the parlour, trying to soothe my nerves with a novel. Rufus appeared -at the window, which was open, the night being warm. I shrieked aloud -at the sight of his face. He ran away," finished Mrs. Baldwin, -sighing. - -"Didn't you light out after him?" - -"I went out to rebuke him for his desertion of the twins. But he was -gone like a dream. I have come to you to ask if you will advertise for -Rufus. Assure him that all will be forgotten." - -"Is there anything to forget?" asked Gerty. - -Mrs. Baldwin suddenly sat up with energy, and her eyes glittered. No -one would have thought that she possessed such spirit. "Yes," she -said, in a hard voice, "there is much to forget. Rufus treated me like -a brute. He always was a brute." - -"Then why do you wish to forgive him?" - -"Because I do," said Mrs. Baldwin doggedly. - -"Were I you," said Luther, after a pause, "I would leave the cuss -alone. Think of your children." - -"I want him back," said Mrs. Baldwin, and softened her tone. "All will -be forgiven and forgotten." - -But, even as she said this, Tracey saw a nasty glitter in her eye. -He was not so sure that Mrs. Baldwin was actuated by Christian -intentions in wanting her lost husband back. In spite of her apparent -good-nature, she was petty and spiteful. It might be, that she wished -her husband back to make things hot for him. "Tell me really why you -wish him to return?" said Luther. - -Mrs. Baldwin breathed hard, and looked at her daughter. "Send Gerty -out of the room," she said suddenly, and forthwith this was done. When -alone with Tracey, who was more puzzled than ever, Mrs. Baldwin again -became energetic. "There was a diamond necklace," she said. - -"Ah," replied the American, whistling; "I see, Rufus nabbed it?" - -Mrs. Baldwin took no notice. "I want my necklace back," she said; "it -was given to me by Gerty's father, and I intend to present her with it -on her wedding-day. You are to marry her, Mr. Tracey; so if you want -Gerty to look a lady, as she always is, you will catch Rufus, and make -him give up the necklace." - -Tracey smiled, and shook his head. "It's not to be done, Mrs. Baldwin. -Your husband's been gone for years, and the necklace has long ago been -sold. Besides, you would have to prosecute him. Think of the children, -ma'am." - -"I want back my diamond necklace," said Mrs. Baldwin, who was like a -very obstinate child. "Oh, how I hated that man!" In her rage she -forgot her pretended weakness. "Mr. Tracey," she rose to her feet in a -kind of cold fury, worthy of Mrs. Fane, "Rufus was a brute. Why I -married him I don't know. He said he had money, and he hadn't. I found -out that at one time he had been in gaol for burglary. No wonder he -took my diamond necklace. I want him caught and punished. I have -always spoken well of him all these years for the children's sake, but -I have never forgotten his brutal ways, Mr. Tracey." In real earnest, -she laid her fat hand on his arm. "That man struck me. He spent my -money; he made love to the servants. He was all that was bad--a thief, -a liar, a profligate, a----" - -"That's all right," said Luther soothingly, and led her back to her -seat, where she sat and sobbed. "The man was a bad egg. In that case -let him alone, for the children's sake. Can he touch your money?" - -"No. Gerty's father left it all in my own name. I am free of him in -every way." - -"Then you let him alone. He has deserted you for over seven years, so -he can't come back to make things unpleasant, and----" - -"Let him come," said Mrs. Baldwin viciously. "I want him to come. -I'll make things unpleasant for him--the brute." - -"But you never said anything of this before, ma'am?" - -"No," replied the woman heavily. "Because he passed out of my memory, -so to speak. But when I saw his face at the window, it all came back -to me--all--all. I want him caught and punished;" she caught Tracey's -arm. "He is a burglar, mind, and he may break into my house and kill -me. You don't know what a scoundrel he is." - -"Yet you always gave us to understand that he was a good sort." - -"For the children's sake. That's why I sent Gerty out of the room. I -don't want her to know, although he is no kith or kin of hers." - -"Then you leave things as they are, ma'am, for the children's sake." - -"No," said Mrs. Baldwin, between her teeth. "If I catch him, and the -law won't punish him, I'll do so myself. I'll keep a pistol by me. -I'll shoot him if he attempts to enter my house! Yes, I will." - -"Tracey was amazed at the change in the woman. The lazy, good-natured -creature he knew was gone, and in her place stood a woman as -vindictive as the adventuress of an Adelphi drama. He asked for a -description of Rufus Baldwin, but by this time Mrs. Baldwin had -changed her mind. - -"No, I shan't tell you any more," she said quietly. "You forget what I -have said. Don't advertise. The law won't punish him, and I dare say -my diamond necklace has gone to pieces by this time. I'll keep a -pistol beside me, and shoot him if he comes." - -"No! no! He won't come again." - -"Yes he will. He came the other night. I saw him at the window. I -cried out at the sight of his wicked face. But I won't scare him away -next time. No, I'll wait and let him come near me, then I'll kill him. -That's what I'll do," and then she began gradually to relapse into the -lazy woman who had entered. "How hot it is." - -In compliance with her request Tracey went out to call Gerty. He was -astonished by the sudden changes in Mrs. Baldwin's demeanour, and -asked Gerty a question. "Say, does your momma drink?" - -"No. Certainly not, Luther. Why do you ask?" - -"Well, she's that queer." - -"Something has upset her, I know," said Gerty quickly; "what is it?" - -Mrs. Baldwin appeared at the door and answered that question. "Don't -tell her," she said sharply. "Gerty dear, you are too inquisitive. I -am upset by the appearance of Rufus--that's all." - -"Is Luther to advertise?" asked Gerty, wondering. - -"No," Mrs. Baldwin walked to the gate, "I have a better way than -that--a much better way," and she opened the gate. - -"Say," Tracey detained Gerty, "do you sleep in your mother's room?" - -"No. Why do you ask?" - -"Because she's got a kind of craze about that husband of hers. You -make some excuse and sleep in her room for a week or so till she -forgets that the man came back. And if you see anything queer wire me, -I'll be down in a shake. You catch on, Gerty B.?" - -"No. What do you----" - -Before Tracey could reply Mrs. Baldwin hailed them. "Here's Mr. -Calvert. Gerty, come away," so the girl reluctantly had to go to her -mother, but not before she whispered Tracey to write and explain. - -"Can't, my dear," he whispered back uneasily. "I promised to hold my -tongue. But keep an eye on your mother. Now do." - -"There was no time to say any more, as Mrs. Baldwin was coming up the -path with Arnold. She was telling him of her sufferings at great -length, and nothing remained of the virago who had displayed such -fierceness in the white room, save an unusually high colour. Tracey -nodded to Calvert, who looked rather excited. Then came the toil of -getting Mrs. Baldwin away, which took as long a time as it usually -does to launch a ship. At last the cab drove off, and Gerty waved a -farewell handkerchief to Tracey. Then the young men went into the -house. - -"I don't envy you Mrs. Baldwin, Tracey," said Calvert. - -"I guess you've hit the bull's-eye," replied the American gloomily; -"she's not such a fool as she looks, that old ma'am." - -"Oh, she doesn't look a fool," said Arnold easily, "only lazy." - -"And she ain't that neither. I guess there's spirit in the old party. -You could have knocked me down flat when she rose on her hind legs." - -"Was she--er--on her hind legs?" inquired Calvert delicately. - -"Considerable! But it's private business. Only I hope I won't be mixed -up with another murder case. One's good enough for me, anyhow!" - -"Do you mean to say----" began Arnold startled. - -"That she knows anything to the circus we're running? No, I don't. -She's got her own little Sheol--sulphur, match, and all. Let her -slide. I dare say it's all bunkum." - -"What is?" - -"Calvert, if you ask any more questions I'll chuck the case." - -"Oh, beg pardon," said Arnold, astonished at seeing the usually -good-tempered man so roused, "don't mind my asking questions. I forgot -the business was private." - -"Won't be long," said Tracey savagely, "if she's on the kind of job -she's trying to carry out. Well," he raised his voice, "what's the -best news with you?" - -"This," replied Calvert quietly, and from his pocket produced a scrap -of paper. Tracey without displaying any wonder looked at it. It was -half a sheet of pink writing-paper and contained only one line written -across lengthways. "If you get the money look under the coffee stain!" -Tracey read and re-read this, then raised his puzzled eyes. "What's -this, Calvert?" - -"That," replied the young man calmly, "is a piece of paper which I -received from Merry this morning!" - -"Was it enclosed in an envelope?" - -"Arnold handed the envelope which he was holding. It was addressed to -'Arnold Calvert' in a woman's hand of the sloping Italian kind. The -writing on the paper was also in the same handwriting. I guess as -Merry gave you this, and it's a woman's hand, that it comes from your -dead cousin," said Tracey. - -"I thought so!" - -"Didn't she give it to Merry?" - -"No, I went to the office this morning to look at some deeds connected -with the property. They had to turn out the deed-box. It is large and -hadn't been turned out to the very bottom for some time. As we -searched, Merry picked up that envelope which was closed. He gave it -to me. Merry says he never saw it before, so I expect poor Flora -slipped it into the box one day when he was out of the room." - -"But why should she do that?" - -"I am as puzzled to account for her reason as I am to know what the -message means." - -"Can't Merry enlighten you?" - -"No. I tell you he never saw the envelope till he handed it to me." - -"Hold on a shake," said Tracey, handing Calvert a cigarette; "smoke -this while I get my thinking-machine into order." - -"You'll find it difficult to guess what it is," said Calvert, lighting -up. "Merry and I were an hour over it this morning. He doesn't know -what it means, and I'm sure I don't." - -"You must be a couple of thick-heads," snapped Tracey, whose temper -was not improved by Mrs. Baldwin's visit; "the way it's worded shows -that Mrs. Brand expected to be killed." - -Arnold started to his feet. "What do you say?" - -"Mrs. Brand expected to be killed," said the American, with great -distinctness; "she says, 'if you get the money'--well, you couldn't -get the money till she was dead." - -"No, but what does the message mean?" - -Tracey laid the paper on his knees and looked across Calvert's -shoulder with his bright eyes dancing. "Oh, I guess it's panning out -all square," said he quietly; "I came here as you know in the hope of -finding some papers overlooked by that man--or woman--I guess it was a -woman--who made hay while the house was deserted. Evidently the idea -was to destroy all trace of your cousin's past life. Well, sir, I -hunted everywhere without success. Now we'll look for the coffee -stain, and under it we will find some papers which will give the whole -show away. We're on the verge of learning the truth, sir." - -"Then you think that, expecting to be murdered, she hid certain papers -giving a clue to her probable assassin?" - -"Yes I do, and the poor soul dared not put the message plainer, lest -it should fall into other hands than yours." - -"Whose hands, seeing that I am the heir?" - -"You forget that Bocaros was the heir for a time. He might have got -hold of the deed-box, and then"--Tracey shrugged his shoulders--"It's -as plain as day to me!" - -"But do you suspect Bocaros of knowing anything of this crime?" - -"No. He talked too much nonsense at the outset for that. He gave -himself away--always supposing he was guilty. Said that he lived in -the neighbourhood--that the money was coming to him--that he could -easily have gone to the villa and killed Mrs. Brand and would not be -able to prove an _alibi_ by reason of living alone. No! A man who is -guilty doesn't give himself away like that. But Bocaros, had he found -this message, might have torn it up so as to let sleeping dogs lie." - -"Still I don't understand." - -"Well, you see he might have fancied--as I do--that a discovery of the -papers may lead to the implication of the husband in this matter." - -"You think Brand killed his wife?" - -"No. It was a woman, and I believe Mrs. Fane for choice. But Brand may -have loved Mrs. Fane and so the whole trouble may have arisen. I guess -Mrs. Brand was glad to see her husband start for Australia, for I'm -certain from this message that he threatened to kill her. Bocaros -having got the money, and thinking of his living near Ajax Villa, -might have torn it up. Now Mrs. Brand if she was murdered--as she -was--wished the assassin to be brought to justice. The concealed -papers will give the clue." Tracey rose and looked round the room. -"Where the deuce are they, anyhow?" - -"Under the coffee stain," said Arnold, not rising, "and I think -instead of hunting we had better reason the matter out. A coffee-stain -would naturally be on a table-cloth." - -"A white dinner table-cloth," assented Tracey sitting, "but she -couldn't conceal papers there. I've lifted every cloth in the house -white and otherwise--there's white ones here as you see--but I -couldn't find anything. You needn't look at the roof, Calvert. The -coffee-stain won't be there." - -"No," said Arnold looking down, "it may be on the wall. - -"Not unless Brand threw a cup at her head." Tracey glanced round the -walls; they were all spotless and white. "Maybe on the carpet." - -"Have you examined the carpets?" - -"I haven't lifted them, if that's what you mean." - -"Then I dare say the papers are hidden under the carpet of this room." - -"Why here? It may be the dining-room, or----" - -"No," replied Arnold rising, "a coffee-stain would show only on a -white carpet, and it was the peculiar furnishing of this room which -gave her the idea of the hiding-place"--he looked carefully at the -floor--"but I can't see any stain." - -"A woman like Mrs. Brand," suggested Tracey, "proud of the smartness -of this room, would hide any stain. Let's move all mats and -furniture." - -Calvert thought this was a good suggestion, and they set to work. The -piano was moved, but needless to say nothing was found there. The -various draperies were pulled aside. A book-case was shifted. All the -mats were flung out of the door. When they moved everything, still no -stain appeared. Then they came to a thick wooden pedestal bearing a -plaster-of-paris Venus. It was screwed to the floor near the window -and surrounded by mats. "This is the last chance," said Tracey. - -A few minutes' work sufficed to overturn the column. There, beneath -it, and concealed by the base, was the coffee-stain spoiling the -purity of the carpet. Tracey produced a large knife, and ripped up the -carpet. Thrusting in his hand he pulled out a slim green book rather -large in size, and thereon in gilt letters were the words "My Diary!" - -"This solves the mystery," said Tracey quietly, "now we'll learn the -truth." - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -THE PROFESSOR'S TRUMP CARD - - -Inspector Derrick called to see Fane with rather a downcast expression -of countenance. The meaning of this was explained in his conversation. - -"I've done my best, sir, and there's nothing to be discovered." - -"You mean as regards the murder of this woman Brand?" asked Walter. - -"What else would I mean!" replied Derrick dismally. "I have no call to -see you about anything else, sir!" - -"The two men were seated in the morning-room where Mrs. Fane had -conversed with Laura. Walter, seated near the window, did not look -well. There were dark circles under his pale eyes, which hinted at -sleepless nights. Also there was a smell of ether in the room as -though he had been taking drugs. Derrick delicately ascribed his looks -to the fact of the unpleasant occurrence which had taken place in the -house. - -"I suppose you've come to think it haunted, sir?" he suggested. - -"No, I don't like the idea of living in a house in which a murder has -been committed. But I don't believe in the supernatural. For the sake -of my wife and child I am giving up the villa, and we intend to live -abroad for a time. But I should like the mystery solved, and the -assassin of that poor woman brought to justice before I go." - -"Derrick shook his head. It's not to be done, sir." - -"Suppose I offer a reward?" - -"Not even then, Mr. Fane. I can't find a single clue. When I -discovered that white room in the Hampstead house, I thought something -would come of it. But the assassin was clever enough to go there and -remove all evidence of the past life of Mrs. Brand--books, papers, -photographs, and those sort of things. It is true I found a photograph -of the dead woman, but we knew her looks already. Now had it been a -portrait of the husband----" - -"Ah! Do you suspect the husband?" - -"Yes and no," replied Derrick thoughtfully. "Certainly I learned that -the man went to Australia some time before the death. I found his name -in a passenger-list of an Orient liner." - -"Then he can have nothing to do with the crime." - -"Well, I don't know. A man may start for another country to make -things safe for himself, and then can come back secretly. Besides, if -it was not the husband who removed the things, how did he enter the -cottage? and why should he make such a point of destroying his own -photographs had he no aim?" - -"I can't guess. But it is equally mysterious how the woman managed to -enter this house." - -"Yes. I can't learn anything about the key being duplicated. Yet it -must have been, seeing we have the second key which was dropped by the -man who talked to Mulligan." - -"Have you found him?" - -"No; nor am I likely to. I tell you, Mr. Fane, the case is hopeless. I -believe Mr. Calvert, who came in for the money, has placed the matter -in the hands of a private inquiry-agent called Jasher. But if I can't -learn the truth, Jasher can't." - -"Is he a clever man?" - -"Well, he is. I did work with him at one time, and he appears to have -his wits about him. But this case will be beyond his wits as it is -beyond mine. I dare say Mr. Calvert would offer a reward, and I should -like to earn it. But"--Derrick rose and shook his head--"there's -nothing to be done." - -Fane thought for a few minutes, his eyes on the ground. Then he went -to his wife's desk and wrote out a cheque. "You deserve something for -your trouble," said he, handing this to Derrick. "All I ask in return -is that you should give me the photograph of the dead woman. I have a -fancy to try and learn the truth myself." - -"Oh, I'll do that," replied the Inspector, taking the cheque with -thanks; "and I'm sorry, sir, that nothing can be done. But you'll hear -no more of the case. The woman is dead and buried, and the thing is -forgotten. There is only one chance." - -"What is that?" asked Fane curiously. - -"The husband may return to the Hampstead house from Australia. If so, -we may learn something of Mrs. Brand's past, and in her past will be -found some clue leading to the detection of the assassin." - -"But if the husband is guilty, as you think, he will not return." - -"True enough. Should he return, I will take it as a proof of his -innocence. Well, good-day, sir." - -"Wait," said Fane, passing through the door along with his visitor, "I -will walk a little way with you. Tell me if you intend to have the -house watched." - -"The house at Hampstead, sir?" - -"Yes. Brand will come back there if he comes at all." - -"If you like I can have it watched, Mr. Fane; but it will cost money." - -"You can rely on me for the expense," said Fane eagerly. "I am most -anxious that no stone should be left unturned. Watch the house, and -when the man returns there let me know." - -"You can depend upon my doing that, Mr. Fane." - -"The two men were by this time at the door. As Fane opened it, he -found a man on the step just raising his hand to ring the bell. The -stranger was tall and dark, and unknown to Fane. Is there anything I -can do for you?" asked the master of the house. - -"I wish to see Mrs. Fane on business," said Bocaros, for it was he. - -"Ah! something to do with the office, no doubt," replied Fane, and -beckoned to the footman, who now stood ready to close the door. "Take -this gentleman's card to your mistress. She is in the White Room." - -The footman did as he was bidden, and Bocaros waited in the hall. Fane -went out with the Inspector, and walked along Achilles Avenue talking -eagerly. Bocaros sat down with rather a bewildered look, and passed -his lean hand across his face. It seemed to him that he knew Fane's -face, yet he was unaware of having met him before. - -"But his face seems familiar," muttered Bocaros. "Where can I have -seen him?" And he searched his memory vainly. - -Before his brain would respond to the demand on it, the footman -returned with an intimation that Mrs. Fane would see him. Bocaros -followed the man upstairs and into the White Room. Here sat Mrs. Fane, -cold and statuesque as usual, and alone. Minnie was out with her -nurse, and Laura was paying a visit to Gerty. Beside Mrs. Fane stood a -small wicker table on which a book lay open. But she was as usual -engaged in knitting, and apparently preferred her own thoughts to -those of the popular author whose book was beside her. When the -professor entered, she rose gracefully, and looked at him keenly. - -"May I ask what you have to see me about?" said Mrs. Fane, putting her -remark purposely in this way, so as to impress Bocaros with an idea -that he was favoured. - -The professor bowed, and took the chair she pointed to. He had never -seen Mrs. Fane before, and thought her a singularly lovely woman, as -she decidedly was. Also from her stern lips and piercing eyes he -judged that she was a woman who would ruthlessly carry out any scheme -which she had formed, and would press forward dauntlessly in the face -of all dangers. A clever woman, a dangerous woman, and a foe worthy to -be met and conquered. That he would conquer even this Amazon the -professor did not doubt. He knew too much for her to deny, and since -his interview with Emily Doon he had spent the time in getting certain -proofs together. - -Mrs. Fane might be clever, but she would not be able to defend herself -in the face of the facts he proposed to place before her. - -Bocaros, feeling his way carefully, did not reply at once to her -question. "You will see my name on the card," he said quietly. - -"Professor Bocaros," read Mrs. Fane. "I never heard of you." - -"Did not Miss Mason mention me?" - -"I don't recall her having done so." - -"Strange," said the man. "I am a tenant of Mrs. Baldwin." - -"My sister is a friend of Mrs. Baldwin," replied Mrs. Fane, "but it is -not to be thought that she interests herself in Mrs. Baldwin's private -affairs." - -"I live in the little house across the fields." - -"That is very interesting," said Mrs. Fane sarcastically, and -wondering why the man kept telling her things of no note; "and you are -a foreigner--a Greek. Bocaros----" - -"Constantine Bocaros." Then the Professor, feeling nettled by this -behaviour, resolved to startle her. "I am the cousin of the woman who -was murdered in this room," he said abruptly. - -But Mrs. Fane merely raised her eyebrows. "And you have no doubt come -to gratify your morbid curiosity by seeing the place where she was -struck down. Yonder it is, near the piano. Pray look, sir, and then -leave me. I do not show my house for this purpose to chance visitors." - -"Bocaros, meeting her on her own ground, sauntered to the piano with a -kind of cool insolence that made Mrs. Fane observe him attentively. - -"I suppose you know that Mr. Calvert comes in for ten thousand a year -by the death of Mrs. Brand?" said Bocaros, returning to his seat. - -"I have heard so." - -"And he is engaged to marry your sister?" - -"Mrs. Fane could not stand any more of this intrusion into her private -affairs, and rose. Will you please to state your business and go!" - -"There is no need to speak to me like that, madame," said Bocaros, -keeping his seat. "My cousin left me the money--afterwards she changed -her mind and made a new will, leaving it to Calvert." - -"Well, sir, and what has this to do with me?" - -"A great deal, as you will find. I want to learn who killed this -woman, Mrs. Fane." - -"And you come to me. I fear I cannot assist you." - -"Oh yes, I think you can." - -"Sir, you are insolent!" Mrs. Fane, drawing herself up to her full -height, was about to press the button of the bell. Bocaros stopped -her. - -"Wait a little," he said; "you can help me by explaining how you came -to be in this room on the night of the murder." - -Mrs. Fane's hand fell, and she stared at the man. "I was not." - -"You were! Your voice was heard--you sang a favourite song." - -"Indeed!" Mrs. Fane thought for a moment, but without losing her -colour or self-possession in the face of this accusation. Then she -returned to her seat, resolved to give this strange man a hearing. "I -was at the seaside when the crime was committed." - -"So I believe--your husband also?" - -"My husband also," said Mrs. Fane calmly. "Will you be so kind as to -tell me what you mean by these questions?" - -"I want to prove the guilt of Calvert." - -"I cannot help you to do so," she said impatiently. - -"Yes, you can," persisted Bocaros. "Calvert was the young man who left -this house while you were singing. You assisted him to escape. You met -him here. He used the dagger to kill Flora Brand!" - -"What dagger?" - -"The stage weapon which the cook found in the dustbin, and which you -said belonged to you." - -Mrs. Fane leaned her chin on the tips of her fingers, thinking. "You -are a gentleman," said she gravely. - -"I am, madame. I am a Greek noble--the Baron Bocaros." - -"The curled lip of Mrs. Fane showed that she thought very little of a -foreign title, but she went on quietly, watching the man all the time -like a cat. And, indeed, she did not look unlike a magnificent white -cat, sleek and feline and treacherous. Bocaros, hard as he was, winced -at the regard of her narrow eyes. Well, then, Baron Bocaros," said -Mrs. Fane in her low sweet voice, "I will be plain with you. I said -that the dagger was mine, to shield Mr. Calvert----" - -"I know. You are in love with him," burst out the professor. - -"What do you mean, sir?" demanded the woman, a tide of crimson -flushing her face. "I detest the man." - -"But I thought----" - -"Then do not think, if your thoughts lead you into such follies. What? -I love Arnold Calvert--that doll of a man who----" - -"Madame," interrupted Bocaros, wondering if this indignation was -feigned. "Calvert is my enemy, yet I say he is a manly and handsome -young gentleman. Be just!" - -"Just! I am indignant. Are you not aware I am a married woman--that I -have a child? How dare you. But that I insist upon an explanation, I -would have you turned out of the house!" - -"Bocaros arose. There is no need; I will go." - -"No. You will speak out," said she imperiously. - -"I will go," insisted the professor, "and I will take my information -to the police." - -"It is a pity you were not earlier," sneered Mrs. Fane. "Inspector -Derrick, who had charge of the case, was with my husband." - -"I met them going out of the door," replied Bocaros serenely. "Had I -known the gentleman with Mr. Fane was a police officer, I might have -been tempted to speak. But I was resolved to give you a chance to -exculpate yourself." - -"From what?" demanded Mrs. Fane angrily. - -"From participation in the murder of this poor----" - -"How dare you come and accuse me," she burst out furiously. "You must -be mad!" - -"I have proofs which will prove my sanity," said Bocaros, moving to -the door. "But I can show them to Derrick." - -Mrs. Fane intercepted him. "Stop where you are," she said sharply. -"This matter must be sifted to the bottom. Afterwards I shall go with -you myself to the police-station. If you cannot prove what you have -said, I shall have you arrested for threatening language." - -"Oh, I can prove everything," said Bocaros, returning to his seat. "And -since we now understand one another, we can proceed." - -"You will proceed," retorted Mrs. Fane, sitting down also, to answer -my questions, "or you will get into trouble, my good man. You say that -Mr. Calvert was in this room on the night of the murder?" - -Bocaros nodded, sure of his ground. "He left this house at eleven. He -was in his stage dress and spoke to the policeman. He dropped the -latch-key, and murdered----" - -"Stop. You can't be sure that he did. The woman was murdered earlier. -During the evening Mr. Calvert was at the theatre." - -"No. His part was played by his understudy up till half-past nine. He -then played in the last act and came here. He came here earlier," -insisted the professor, "and murdered the woman to get the money." - -"It might be so," muttered Mrs. Fane. "The dagger was a stage one, and -I knew from Laura that he wore one in the second act of the play." - -"He used the dagger and then threw it away into the dustbin." - -"Nonsense," said Mrs. Fane, with a shrug. "How could he get to the -dustbin when the back of the house was locked up?" - -This was a puzzle to Bocaros, but he faced it boldly. "Calvert entered -the house by your connivance, and could easily have unbarred the back -door to conceal his weapon." - -"Oh!" Mrs. Fane looked sharply at her visitor. "So you accuse me of -admitting the man?" - -"I do. You had your husband's latch-key, or had a copy made. You -expected Calvert, and admitted him. Afterwards you gave him the key to -let himself out while you averted suspicion by singing." - -"Indeed! And how did I escape?" - -"You had plenty of time. You can drive a motor-car, madame, as I know, -so you took Mr. Tracey's and went to Charing-Cross Station----" - -"On the way to Westcliff-on-Sea. Rather a roundabout way." - -"Madame, you are very clever, and wished to avert suspicion. You left -the car in the station yard, and then took the underground to -Liverpool Street Station, where you caught the midnight express to -Southend." - -Mrs. Fane changed colour at this explicit relation, and rose to her -feet. "You seem to know a great deal about my movements," said she -coolly. - -"I have satisfied myself in every respect," said Bocaros, bowing. - -"And you say I was in this room on that night--that I sang?" - -"Yes, you sang 'Kathleen Mavourneen.'" - -"Then let me tell you, Professor Bocaros, or baron, if you call -yourself so, that you are quite wrong. I was at Westcliff-on-Sea in my -drawing-room all the evening, miles away from this house. I never came -to London, I did not admit Mr. Calvert into this house, and I never -sang." - -Bocaros shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands -apologetically. "You will compel me to go to the police if you deny -these things." - -Mrs. Fane turned on him in a cold fury. "You fool," she snarled, "do -you think I would deny unless I could prove all I say? You declare -that I sang on that night. Well, you shall hear the song." - -So speaking, she crossed over the room and went behind a white velvet -curtain that hung over a kind of alcove. Wondering what she intended -to do, Bocaros sat and waited. He was astonished at her courage and -resolution, and began to think she might escape him after all. If she -did, he would not be able to prove the guilt of Arnold, since Mrs. -Fane alone could testify to his presence in the house. As he -considered, notes of music were heard behind the curtain. Mrs. Fane's -voice--a splendid contralto--rose in song. With great power and -expression she sang "Kathleen Mavourneen." Suddenly the curtain was -drawn aside and she appeared. But the song still continued, although -she was not singing. "Is that the song?" she asked, mockingly. - -"Madame----" stammered Bocaros, quite astounded and rising. - -"And is this the singer?" she asked, pointing to herself. "See." With -a quick movement she tore the curtain completely aside, and Bocaros -beheld a large phonograph pouring out the song. He gasped and -staggered back overwhelmed. Mrs. Fane advanced, smiling scornfully. "I -think you understand now," she said, seating herself, "how it was that -my voice was heard on that night in this room. Several of my songs are -registered in that instrument. I amuse my child with them. It seems -that I managed to deceive the police and you also, you fool. I wonder, -seeing how hurriedly the accompaniment is played between the verses, -that the police did not guess the truth. Well, what now?" - -The song had stopped, and the phonograph was silent. Bocaros -recovered his wits. "I still maintain that you were in London and in -this house, Mrs. Fane," he said. "You may not have sung save by that -instrument, but as for the rest I am sure. You left your house at -Westcliff-on-Sea at half-past five; you caught the six train to town; -you came here----" - -"Prove these accusations," she interrupted. - -"I have the evidence of the booking-clerk and a porter at the Southend -station to prove how you were dressed and----" - -"Who can say how I was dressed?" - -"Your maid, Emily Doon!" - -"Ah!" Mrs. Fane turned grey to the lips. "She--she----" - -"You see it at last. Yes, madame, you made her sit in the drawing-room -at Westcliff-on-Sea, acting as yourself. You dressed quietly, and she -described your dress to me. It was the same as that of the lady seen -by the porter and the booking-clerk. You returned by the midnight -train, and you were here meanwhile between six and half-past eleven." - -"No! no! no!" said Mrs. Fane fiercely. "You are clever, sir, and you -have found out much that I wished concealed. But not for the reason -you give me. I did not kill this woman. I had no cause to kill the -woman. I never saw her--I did not know her. I was not in this -house----" - -"But I tell you----" - -"And I tell you," she cried, advancing and seizing the man's arm in a -fierce grasp, "that you are wrong. Listen--to defend myself I must -tell you what I had rather kept quiet. I suspected my husband of being -in love with another woman. He received a letter on the morning of the -twenty-fourth from her. I accused him--he denied. I was furious with -rage. He said he was ill, and retired to bed. I did not see him all -the day. When I went in the evening he was gone. I guessed he had gone -to town to see this woman. It was after five. I guessed he would take -the six train. I persuaded Emily to impersonate me. I went to town. On -the Southend platform I saw my husband. I went in another carriage. At -the Liverpool Street Station I missed him and----" - -"And you came on here?" - -"No, I did not. I never thought he would dare to bring any woman -here--nor do I believe that he did so. Where he went I cannot say. But -I waited at the Liverpool Street Station throughout that long evening. -He came late and caught the midnight train. I went down also. He never -saw me, and as I had discovered nothing I said nothing. He never -thought that I had followed him: he never knew I was out of the house. -When I saw the death in the papers I never suspected him. I do not -suspect him now. Walter is too great a coward to commit a crime. And -he certainly would not have got rid of his victim in his own house, -thus bringing down the temple on his own head." - -"You believe him to be innocent?" asked Bocaros, puzzled. - -"I do. Would any man be such a fool as to act this way in his own -house? Had he known this woman, had he desired to get rid of her, he -would have taken her to the other end of London, as far away from our -home as possible." - -"I can see that. And, madame, I ask your pardon for my unjust -suspicions. You are innocent." And he bent to kiss her hand. - -Mrs. Fane snatched it away fiercely. "Innocent,--of course I am. I can -prove that I was at the Liverpool Street Station all that evening. I -was in the ladies' waiting-room. You can understand how the phonograph -deceived the police. As to this woman, I never heard of her--I don't -know her." - -"She is my cousin." - -"Then how did she come to enter my house?" - -"I thought that you secured the key and----" - -"And admitted Arnold. No, I didn't. My sister----" Mrs. Fane suddenly -clutched her hair, moved out of her usual self. "Great heavens!" she -muttered. "Can Laura have got an impression of the key and----" - -"No, no said Bocaros. I am sure Miss Mason has nothing to do with the -matter. But Calvert----" - -"If he is guilty hang him." - -"But I thought----" - -"You thought wrongly. I detest the man. I do not want him to marry my -sister. Professor, do what you like about the man. I will tell all to -the police I have told you if----" - -"I do not wish to speak to the police," said Bocaros, shivering. - -"Then hold your tongue and leave the matter in my hands. I will avenge -you. I will be able to deal with the matter. Leave it to me." - -Bocaros looked at her steadily. "Madame," he said, bowing, "I leave it -to you. Calvert is in your hands." - -"He shall never marry my sister," said Mrs. Fane feverishly. "Never." - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -A STORY OF THE PAST - - -Fane and Derrick parted at the top of Achilles Avenue, the latter -heartily thanking the former for the very handsome cheque. "And if -that husband returns, sir," said Derrick, shaking hands, "you may be -sure that I'll let you know straight off. By the way"--he drew near -confidentially--"do you know that the motor-car in which the assassin -is supposed to have escaped is in Madame Tussaud's?" - -"No"--Fane laughed--"what possible interest can it have?" - -"Well, sir, you see the mystery of the case makes it interesting. A -lot of people will go there and look at it, and talk about the case." - -"I hope they may stumble upon some evidence likely to give a clue to -the assassin." - -"Bless you, no one will do that, sir. The case has baffled me, so I do -not think there's much chance of any one else getting at the truth. I -think that American gentleman's a smart man of business, though. He -sold the car to Tussaud's at a long price." - -"H'm!" said Fane, pondering, "do you think he had anything to do with -the crime?" - -"No, sir. He missed his motor-car sure enough. Had he killed the -woman, he would have escaped in it and proved an _alibi_." - -"I think it was better what he did do. He met Mulligan and you, and -with you surveyed the corpse. That daring would avert any suspicion." - -"Have you an idea yourself, sir, that he might----" - -"No, no!" interrupted Fane hurriedly; "it's simply an idea. But I have -learned from Mr. Calvert that Tracey--that's his name, isn't it?--has -taken the Hampstead house." - -"I wonder what's that for?" asked Derrick, startled. "I want to find -out. And I'll ask Mr. Calvert this very day." - -"Are you seeing him to-day, sir?" - -"Yes; I am going there now. He wrote asking me to call this afternoon. -When I leave you I'll take a cab to his lodgings." - -Derrick mused. "I'd like to come along with you," he said. - -"No," replied Fane decisively, "better not just now. I am sure of -nothing. I only fancy Tracey may have had something to do with the -matter. Should I learn anything I shall let you know." - -"Thank you, sir. I fancy the case is finished myself; but of course -something unexpected may turn up. Good-day." - -"Good-day," replied Fane, and hailed a cab. - -Owing to his long conversation with Derrick, there was not much time -to be lost if he wished to be punctual. Wondering if Arnold desired to -see him about Laura, Fane told the cabman to drive as fast as possible -to Bloomsbury. "I expect now that he has the money, Calvert will want -to marry Laura at once," thought Fane, leaning back in the cab. "I'm -sure Julia ought to be satisfied with such a match. But she is an -impossible woman to deal with. I wish I hadn't married her. I shall -never be my own master now." - -It was lucky that things were as they were, for Fane was the last man -in the world to take the initiative. He always required to be governed -and guided, scolded and petted. The slack character of the man could -be seen from his mouth, which was constantly half-open. A pleasant, -handsome, kindhearted man was Fane, but his very good qualities added -to his weakness. His languid good-nature was always getting him into -trouble, and he was kindly not so much from a genuine feeling of the -sort as from a desire not to be troubled. It is much easier to be -yielding in this world than to hold one's own. But those who thus give -way, always have constant troubles. The only way in this best of -possible worlds to keep peace, is to be prepared for war. Human beings -invariably take advantage of one another, and a kind heart is looked -upon as a sign of weakness. - -On arriving at the Bloomsbury lodgings, Fane saw Arnold looking out of -the window, evidently on the watch for his arrival. After dismissing -the cab Fane went up stairs, and on entering Calvert's sitting-room -was greeted by its occupant with signs of restraint. Behind Arnold -stood Tracey, whom Fane recognised from having seen him at the -inquest. The American was also grave, and Fane wondered what was to be -the subject of conversation. It could not be Arnold's engagement to -Laura, or both the men would not look so serious as they did. - -"I am glad to see you, Fane," said Calvert, pushing forward a chair. -"Sit down. I hope you don't mind Mr. Tracey being present? You met him -at the inquest, I believe?" - -"We saw one another," said Fane. "I hope you are well, Mr. Tracey?" - -"I thank you, sir," said Luther gravely, "I am well. And you?" - -"Pretty well," said Fane fretfully; "but this murder has given me a -lot of anxiety. Not a pleasant thing to happen in one's house." - -"By no means, sir," replied Tracey, with a puzzled glance at Calvert. -"Is it true that you are moving, as I have been informed by Miss Gerty -B., the lady I'm engaged to?" - -"Yes; I suppose Miss Mason told her. My wife doesn't like the place -now that it has such a bad reputation. We intend to go abroad for a -time to Switzerland." - -"You'll miss your yachting," said Arnold, who was taking some papers -out of his desk. - -"I don't think I'll yacht any more," said Fane gloomily; "my sea days -are over." - -"Did you yacht much?" asked Tracey. - -"A lot. I sometimes stopped away for a couple of months." - -"What did Mrs. Fane say?" - -Fane laughed. "Oh, she didn't mind. She never cared for the sea -herself. Between you and me, Mr. Tracey, my wife is fonder of business -than pleasure. I am the reverse." - -"All the same, Fane, you must attend to business now." - -"What, Calvert, do you call your engagement to Laura business?" - -Arnold looked surprised. "I did not ask you here to talk about that," -he replied still seriously. - -"Oh," answered Fane carelessly, and taking out a cigarette, "I thought -you wanted me to make things square with Julia." - -"Laura and I understand one another," said Arnold, returning to his -seat with a green-covered book in his hand. "I am now well off, and -there is no bar to our marriage." - -"I am glad of that. A lucky thing for you, the death of that woman." - -"I would rather she had lived, poor soul," said Calvert with emotion. - -Fane shrugged his shoulders. "We all have to die some time." - -"But not by the knife," put in Tracey sharply. "The poor soul, as -Calvert calls her, met with a terrible death." - -"I know, I know," said Fane irritably. "I wish you wouldn't dwell on -the matter, Mr. Tracey. It is excessively unpleasant for me, seeing I -live in the house where she was killed. Why don't you offer a reward -to clear up the mystery, Calvert?" - -"I don't think there will be any need now," said Arnold with emphasis. - -"What do you mean?" Fane sat up suddenly. "Because Tracey and I have -reason to believe we have found the assassin." - -"What!" Fane sprang to his feet much excited. "Who is it? Tell me his -name." - -"What would you do if you knew it?" asked Tracey, who was looking at -Fane with great wonderment. - -"Do," said the other, clenching his fist, "I would hang the man." - -"How do you know it was a man? It may have been a woman." - -"Why do you say that, Mr. Tracey?" - -"Well, there was the singing, you know." - -"Nonsense! I never thought of it at the time, but now I know that the -singing proceeded from a phonograph." - -"Phonograph!" cried both men, much astonished. - -"Yes. Julia had an idea of getting records of her songs. She sings -very well, you know, Calvert. She has had a phonograph for a long -time, and amuses the child with it. That song, 'Kathleen Mavourneen,' -is a favourite with my wife, and I wondered afterwards how it came to -be sung, seeing she was at Westcliff-on-Sea. Then, when a description -was given of the kind of voice, I knew it was the phonograph." - -"Why didn't you say so at the inquest?" asked the American sharply. - -"Because it never struck me till later. But that's enough about the -matter. I'm weary of the murder. Let us talk of other things." - -"I am afraid we cannot," said Arnold, holding up the book! "Do you -know what this is, Fane?" - -"No," said the other, staring; "what is it?" - -"The diary of Mrs. Brand." - -"How strange," said Fane, but his voice sounded nervously uncertain; -"where did you find it?" - -"It was concealed," said Tracey, with emphasis; "the man who removed -all evidence of Mrs. Brand's past life could not find it. And by means -of that diary, Mr. Fane, we are enabled to prove a lot." - -"If you can prove who murdered the woman I shall be glad to hear." - -"You really mean that?" asked Tracey, staring in his turn. - -"Of course." Fane stared at Tracey in return, and then looked at -Arnold. "I'm glad you sent for me, Calvert. Let us hear everything." - -"It is the story of Mrs. Brand's life----" - -"Oh! And has it to do with the murder?" - -"I think so." - -"Does it point to the assassin?" - -"It may even do that. But we can't be sure." - -Fane threw back his head and closed his eyes. "Read on," he said; "I -will give you my opinion." - -Tracey and Calvert glanced at one another again, and then the latter -opened the book. Fane, hearing the rustle of the leaves, sat up. - -"I say, you needn't read all that," he said; "I can't stand reading at -any time, not even from an actor. Tell me the gist of the matter." - -"From the beginning?" asked Arnold, closing the book. - -"Certainly--from the very beginning." - -"As you please," replied Calvert, and handed the book to Tracey. Fane, -still smoking, again leaned back his head and closed his eyes. After a -pause, Arnold commenced the story. But after a few words, he broke -down irritably-- - -"I can't tell you the thing if you don't look at me." - -"Thanks," said Fane lazily, "I can hear better with my eyes closed." - -"Oh, don't bother!" cried Tracey roughly to Calvert. "Get along. The -thing's getting on my nerves." - -"I hope it won't get on mine," said Fane, with a sigh; "go on." - -"Mrs. Brand," commenced Arnold, without further preamble, "was the -daughter of my uncle----" - -"Yes," murmured Fane, "I heard she was your cousin." - -"I suppose you heard that from Laura," replied Arnold calmly. "Yes, -she was my cousin, and left her fortune to me, although I saw very -little of her. She is also--or rather, seeing she is dead, was -also--the cousin of Professor Bocaros, whose aunt married my uncle." - -"Never heard of him," said Fane. - -"You will hear of him now," said Calvert tartly; "do not interrupt, -please. Well, Flora----" - -"Who is Flora?" asked Fane again. - -"My cousin, Mrs. Brand. She was Flora Calvert. She kept a diary all -these years, as she led a rather lonely life. The man she married was -a commercial traveller, and was frequently away. His name was Brand, -and with his wife he lived at Hampstead." - -"In Coleridge Lane. I know." - -"Tracey muttered something uncomplimentary, and went to the window. -Fane's constant interruptions got on his nerves. During the rest of -the story he occupied a chair, and amused himself with looking out. -All the same he lost nothing of what passed. For such observation had -he been asked by Arnold to be present at the interview. - -"From the diary, which begins with her married life, it appears that -Mrs. Brand was very happy with her husband," went on Calvert. "She met -him at some open-air entertainment, where she was in danger of being -crushed by the crowd. Brand rescued her, and afterwards called on -Flora, who was then living with her mother. He called himself Adolphus -Brand." - -"Was that not his name?" - -"It is hard to say. When he first came to see Flora he told her his -name was Wentworth. She related her life, and how she expected to -inherit a fortune from an uncle called Arthur Brand who lived in -Australia. Wentworth thereupon said that he also had a cousin called -Brand, from whom he expected money. It was probable, he said, that if -he did get this money he would have to change his name. A few months -later he proposed to marry Flora, but could not do so until he got the -money." - -"Was it a large fortune?" asked Fane. - -"Not very large--a few thousand pounds. One day Brand stated that his -cousin was dead, and that he had the money on condition that he -changed his name. Now you see, Fane, how Wentworth came to be called -Brand. It was curious that he should have the same name as the uncle -from whom Flora hoped to get money." - -"A coincidence," said Fane coolly; "these things happen in real life. -It is only in fiction that coincidences appear to be absurd." - -"Well, to continue the story," said Arnold, stealing a glance at the -American, "Brand married my cousin after the death of her mother. He -took her to live at Gunnersbury." - -"I thought you said they lived at Hampstead." - -"Later on they did, but not when they first married. Brand--as he -said--was a commercial traveller." - -"As he said; you doubt his statement then?" - -"I have reason to," responded Calvert gravely. "Please let me tell the -story in my own way. You can comment on it when it is done. Brand -being, as he said, a commercial traveller, was often away for months -at a time. Flora, suspecting nothing wrong----" - -"Why should she?" asked Fane. - -"Wait," said Arnold. "Flora, suspecting nothing wrong, was quite happy. -Her husband was fond of her, and they lived in complete harmony. He -had banked the money he received from his cousin, and proposed later, -when his business affairs were more prosperous, to furnish a house for -her. Especially did he promise to furnish a White Room." - -Fane sat up, with a lively expression on his face. "Ah, now, this is -becoming interesting. I have a White Room in my house." - -"Yes. And poor Flora was murdered there." - -"By whom?" asked Fane innocently. - -"You'll hear that later. To resume the story. Things were arranged in -this way, and husband and wife lived very comfortably, although -neither had money. But Flora expected to get a large fortune from her -Australian relative. He had promised to leave it to her, and -corresponded constantly with her. Afterwards finding Gunnersbury -inconvenient for his business, Brand removed to Hampstead. Flora took -Fairy Lodge, and furnished it and attended to all that. The husband -should have done that work," said Arnold with emphasis, "but for some -reason he rarely showed himself. Flora's landlord, for instance, never -set eyes on Mr. Brand." - -"He seems to have been a mysterious person," said Fane coolly. "Go on, -please. The story is becoming exciting." - -"It will be so before it is finished. Well, Flora settled down in -Fairy Lodge. Her husband stayed away a great deal." - -"On business?" interrupted Fane. - -"So he said," replied Calvert calmly; "but he was away months at a -time. Flora never suspected anything to be wrong. But after a time she -noticed that Brand was not so loving as he had been. He tried to make -it up to her by promising to furnish the grand house they had often -talked about. But Flora would not let him do this until the money came -from the Australian relative. Then news came that the old man was ill. -He wrote and told Flora that a will had been made in her favour, -leaving her all his money, which amounted to some thousands a year." - -"The money you have now?" - -"Yes," assented the young man; "the money I have now. On hearing the -news Brand would not be restrained any longer. He told Flora that he -would furnish the house, but that he must be allowed to do it in his -own way. He did not tell her where the new house was, nor did he -consult her about the furnishing." - -"What about the White Room then?" - -"He knew how to furnish that," said Arnold quickly; "the White Room -was a freak on the part of my cousin. She always had a fancy to have a -room entirely white, and she had one at Hampstead. - -"I had one at Troy," said Fane coolly; "what of that?" - -"Nothing. Only it is strange that you should have had the same idea of -furnishing an odd room as Flora. Well, then, things were thus a year -or two ago when news came that the Australian Brand had married his -housekeeper, and that the money would likely be left to her." - -"What a blow to your cousin," said Fane ironically. - -"Yes; a great blow. From the moment the news arrived Brand grew colder -than ever, and stayed away for longer periods. Husband and wife began -to quarrel, as Flora fancied herself neglected. Life grew more and -more unhappy, as I find from the unfortunate woman's diary, until she -was thoroughly miserable about the beginning of the present year. It -was shortly before July that she received a visit from her Greek -cousin Bocaros." - -"What did he come to see her for?" - -"To find a friend," said Arnold gravely. "The man was lonely and -unhappy. So was Flora. The two got on well, but Bocaros never saw -Brand. He had gone to Australia." - -"Why did he go there?" - -"He thought he might be related to Brand, seeing that his cousin who -had left him the money bore that name. He fancied that if this were so -he might induce old Brand in Australia to give Flora some of the -money, and so went to Australia. While he was away Flora received a -letter stating that Brand was dead, and that the money was hers." - -"What about the marriage?" - -"That was a strange thing, Fane. Of course Brand's marriage -invalidated the will leaving Flora the money. He did many his -housekeeper, but he refused to make a new will, as it seems she had -trapped the old man into the marriage. When Brand died, it was found -that the woman had been married before. Therefore----" - -"The marriage was no marriage, and the will in Mrs. Brand's favour -stood firm," said Fane. "Is that what you mean?" - -"It is. The marriage being no marriage gave the property to Flora. She -saw Laing and Merry, and learned that she inherited about ten thousand -a year." - -Fane gave a kind of groan. "Ten thousand a year," he repeated, "and -you have this money--lucky fellow!" - -"I would rather it had not come to me, Fane, than in such a way." - -"What do you mean?" - -"By the tragic death of my cousin." - -"Yes, yes," said Fane irritably; "how you harp on that murder. Go on." - -"Well, then, Mrs. Brand had the money. It was then that Bocaros told -her that Brand was false." - -"How do you mean false?" - -"Brand," said Arnold, keeping his eyes on the other man's face, "was -married to another woman and under another name--probably his real -name. Bocaros found this out." - -"How do you prove that?" - -"By the diary, which is kept up to the very day my miserable cousin -went to the house where her husband posed as a married man." - -"Go on," said Fane very calm. - -"It was at this time Brand came back." - -"I thought you said he had gone to Australia." - -"So he had," explained Arnold; "but he told Flora that he had heard of -Brand's death, and had not thought it worth while to go on. Flora told -him she had the money, and then accused him of being married. He -denied this. There was a great row, and Brand left the house. Bocaros -came back. He insisted that what he said about the second marriage was -true, but he refused to tell Flora the real name of her husband. He -said, however, that he would take her to the house. He advised her to -obtain an impression of the key in Brand's pocket, so that she might -prove to herself by the key fitting that the house was her husband's. -The plan commended itself to Flora. When Brand returned she pretended -to believe his lies, and took an impression of the key when he was -asleep. This she gave to Bocaros, who got a duplicate key made. He -gave her this. Brand then thinking all was right with Flora, departed. -Flora arranged to meet Bocaros at the house of Brand on the night of -the 24th of July." - -Fane rose with a white face, and began to walk to and fro. "Go on," he -said harshly; "what more?" - -"Is there anything more to tell?" said Arnold, also rising. "Flora -went to your house. Whether she met Bocaros there or not I cannot say. -Her diary is written up to the time she set out on that last journey. -Before leaving, and thinking she might be in danger, she hid the -diary, and left a note for me in the deed-box at Laing and Merry's, -the lawyers. But she went to the house before nine, she admitted -herself with the duplicate latch-key, and in the White Room, which -really and truly had been furnished for her, she met with----" - -"Stop cried Fane, his lips grey and his face drawn and white; am I to -understand that you accuse me of being the husband of Mrs. Brand?" - -"Yes, Mr. Brand, I do. Your name is Fane, but you called yourself -Brand to marry Flora. Your first marriage is a real one, your second -false. You are a bigamist and----" - -"And a murderer. Why not say the word?" - -"I do say it. You are the man who stabbed that poor woman when she was -at the piano. You set the phonograph going so that the police might be -deceived. The dagger you used was one left by me at Flora's by -accident. She took it with her, poor soul, perhaps to kill you for -having treated her so. Heaven only knows to what lengths her misery -might not have carried her and----" - -"Lies! Lies! All lies!" said Fane furiously. "I am not the man. I -don't believe this cock-and-bull story. Julia Mason is my true wife." - -"Julia Mason is Julia Mason still," said Arnold. - -"No. I know nothing of your cousin. I dare you to prove that I am the -husband of Flora Brand." - -"I guess I can do that," said Tracey, stepping forward and producing a -photograph from his pocket. "I remained in that Hampstead house, Mr. -Brand-Fane, to search and see what I could find in order to set things -square. I found an old photograph of Mrs. Brand. I went to the -photographer's and learned that she had been taken at one time some -years ago along with her husband. Here's the photograph, and you will -see that you are the man." - -Fane nervously snatched the photograph, and looked at it. There he -was in the company of Flora Brand. With a groan he dropped the -photograph, staggered to a chair, and covered his face. "It has come -out at last," he groaned. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -STILL A MYSTERY - - -The two men stood in silence, looking down on the wretched creature -shivering in the chair. Walter Fane had never been much of a man, and -now that his guilt had been brought home to him, he looked more of a -craven than ever. A rat would have showed a braver front, for when in -a corner that animal will fight. But Fane did not even show his teeth. -He lay in the chair, huddled up, with his face covered, and moaned -like a rabbit taken in a trap. - -There seemed no doubt as to his guilt, and none was in the mind of the -two men who had hunted him down. The evidence was without a flaw, and -if Fane escaped the gallows, he so richly-deserved, it would be more a -miracle than by any natural occurrence. The diary of his wife, -identified him with the husband who had grown weary of her. The -evidence of the key showed how she had entered the house, which had -originally been furnished for her, and it only remained to learn from -the lips of the assassin precisely how the crime had been committed. -Fane made no attempt to defend himself. He did not even state that he -had been at Westcliff-on-Sea on the night, and at the very time of the -murder. He simply lay there crushed, and in spite of the horror of the -cold-blooded crime he had committed, in spite of his cowardliness, the -two men pitied a human being who could fall so low, and behave so -basely. Even the courage of a rogue can be admired, but there was -nothing worthy of admiration in the conduct of the man who had thus -been caught. - -Arnold spoke first, and even though he pitied in some ways the man, he -could not render his voice other than cold and harsh. "Well, Fane," he -said sharply, "and what is to be done?" - -Fane did not reply. He only moaned. Tracey answered for him. "There's -only one thing to be done, I guess," said he; "hand him over to the -police. He deserves it." - -The miserable man sprang to his feet with a shrill cry. "No! no! I -will kill myself first. You shall not--you shall not"; and he glared -at them with dishevelled hair and bloodshot eyes, his face white, his -lips grey in an extremity of fear. Calvert took no notice but turned -to the American. - -"I am unwilling to do that," he said. "After all I am to marry Laura, -and there is her sister to be considered. Should the whole truth be -made public, Mrs. Fane will suffer. She is not this man's wife. I must -think of her and the child, Tracey." - -"That's true," assented the other, pondering. Then he looked up in a -brisk manner. "I reckon the best thing is for Fane here to tell us the -whole story." - -"You have heard the story," moaned Fane, still hiding his shameful -face. - -"Not your version of it," said Tracey. "I dare say you'll try and make -black appear white, and swear you didn't kill your wife." - -Fane looked up. "I'll swear to that certainly," he said solemnly. "I -did not kill her." - -Arnold turned from him in disgust, thinking to save his neck he was -lying, but Walter caught him by the coat. "Calvert! Calvert! listen to -me only a moment--only a moment. I swear by all that's holy that I did -not lay a finger on Flora." - -"You acknowledge that she was your wife?" - -"I do--I do." - -"And that she came to the house?" - -"Yes, yes!" - -"And that you saw her there?" - -"Not alive--not alive. She was dead when I set eyes on her." - -"That's a lie, anyhow," said Tracey. - -"It is not a lie." - -"It is. You want to save your neck. Hang it man, confess, and die like -a man. You killed this poor woman to rid yourself of her." - -"No! I didn't. I swear I didn't. Oh, why won't you believe me?" - -"You are such a liar," said Tracey. "But I don't want to be hard on -you. Take a drink of brandy. It will pull you together. Calvert, with -your permission----" - -The American went to the side-board and filled a glass. While he was -thus occupied, Calvert touched the man on the shoulder. Fane, who had -again sunk into the chair, trembling and white, looked up. "Take the -brandy," said Calvert quietly, "and then tell us your story. Until I -am absolutely convinced of your guilt, I am willing to give you the -benefit of the doubt." - -"Oh bless you--bless you!" Fane seized Arnold's hand, and tried to -kiss it, but the young man drew it away, with an ejaculation of -disgust, and wiped it. - -"Be a man," he said angrily. "If you had nerve enough to kill poor -Flora in that brutal manner, surely you can face the result." - -"I didn't kill her, I tell you," cried Fane in an hysterical manner. -"I am as innocent as you are. Give me the brandy--give--ah!" - -He had it to his lips by this time, and drained the glass of neat -spirits at a draught. Then he coughed, placed the glass on the table, -and sat down. The spirit give him the courage he lacked, and after a -few moments he looked up, more composed. - -"Sit down, Calvert, and you, Mr. Tracey. I'm going to make a clean -breast of it. But you will not find me so bad as you think." - -"Whatever you may say, the case is bad enough," growled Tracey, and -took a seat. Calvert did the same, and both pair of eyes were turned -expectantly on the culprit. Fane began in a hurry, as though he was -afraid lest the effect of the spirit should die out, and leave him -powerless to finish his gruesome recital. - -"I am the husband of Flora Brand," he declared in a low voice, and -with a flushed face, induced by shame at his position. "I met her five -or six years ago--I forget the exact time--and married her." - -"Why did you call yourself Wentworth?" asked Arnold. - -Fane wriggled and looked down. "I hardly know," he said faintly. "I -wanted----" he paused, then out came the truth with a violent effort. -"I wanted two strings to my bow." - -"As how?" asked Tracey, watching him. - -"In this way. I met Flora in a crowd at some fireworks. She was in -danger of being crushed. I rescued her. She was pretty, and I admired -her. I followed up the acquaintance, and called on her mother." - -"As Wentworth?" - -"Yes! I--I----" here Fane wriggled again, and made an effort as though -swallowing a lie. "I called myself Wentworth, because I didn't wish -her to know my real name. For the same reason I said I was a -commercial traveller." - -"I don't see the reason." - -"You will soon," said Fane, with a cynical look, for, as the brandy -took more effect on him, he became bolder. "I had a small sum of money, -and no occupation. If I wanted to be at ease, it was necessary that I -should marry a rich woman. I wanted to leave a way of escape." - -"I see," said Tracey, in a tone of disgust. "You intended to marry -Flora under your false name, so that should occasion offer, you might -marry a wealthy woman under your real one." - -"Yes," said Fane calmly; "that was my intention. But I did not intend -to marry Flora at all at first. Then I fell so deeply in love with her -that I decided to ask her to be my wife. She told me of the money she -expected from Brand in Australia, and of course that made me eager to -marry her." - -"Then why did you take the name of Brand?" - -"One of my friends saw me in the neighbourhood, and I could no longer -assume the name of Wentworth. Flora's mother was just dead, so I told -her that I expected money from a man called Brand, who had the same -name as the man in Australia." - -"You got the name from him?" - -"Yes - -"Well," said Calvert, "I don't see your reason for the change of name. -Wentworth would have served quite as well to hide your contemplated -villainy. I suppose you know, Mr. Fane, that even though you married -Flora under a false name, the marriage holds good." - -Fane shivered. "Yes, I learned that from my lawyer when I went to see -him about my marriage with Julia. I had no intention of committing -bigamy. Circumstances were so strong----" - -"Oh, chuck that," said Tracey roughly; "get along with the yarn." - -"Fane looked angrily at the indignant face of the American, and -obeyed. He had no alternative. - -"I took the name of Brand, and married Flora. We lived at Gunnersbury, -and were always talking what we should do, when we got the Brand -money. I intended to furnish a house with the money I had." - -"What about the White Room?" - -"That was a favourite fancy of Flora's. She loved a white room. I -promised to furnish one in the new house." - -"Then you did not furnish Ajax Villa for Miss Mason?" - -"No; for Flora. News came that the old man was very ill--probably -dying. The money had been left to Flora. On the strength of that, I -spent my money in furnishing the villa, so that when we inherited the -fortune I might take Flora there." - -"It seems to me you counted your chickens before they were hatched, -Fane," said Calvert; "but it's just the sort of thing a weak man like -you would do. I suppose you loved Flora in a way." - -"I did love her. I loved her very dearly. Had I not done so I would -have severed myself from her when I married Julia. As it was----" - -"You betrayed both women," finished Calvert. "Yes?" - -Fane hung his head, for the scorn in Calvert's voice was hard to bear -with patience. - -"I knew Julia for some time, and knew she was rich. She took a fancy -to me, and I saw that I would only have to ask her to be my wife, and -she would consent. Then came the news that old Brand had married his -housekeeper. I thought it was all up with the chance of getting the -money, so I married Julia. As a commercial traveller (as Flora -believed me to be) I could stop away for a long time. I induced -her to take the Hampstead house, and did not appear in the matter. I -acted----" - -"Like a mean hound!" cried the American wrathfully. "In our country -you'd have been tarred and feathered, and lynched on the top it." - -"There's no need to call names," said Fane cynically. "I am at your -mercy, so----" - -"You deserve none." - -"Calvert, I appeal to you," said Fane, turning to the other. - -"You shall have strict justice, and no more," said Arnold, in an icy -tone; "anything I do will be for the sake of your wife and child." - -Fane shrugged his shoulders, and sneered. "Virtuous men," he said; "oh, -what virtuous men! But had you been in a dilemma, as I was, you would -have acted as I did. I had little money, having foolishly spent a lot -on the furnishing of Ajax Villa. Also, I had to pay the rent. And you -know, Calvert, how magnificently it is furnished." - -"White Room and all," said Calvert, coldly and unsmilingly. - -"Yes, I arranged that to surprise Flora. But after we learned that the -money of Brand would not come to us, we did not get on well together." - -"I guess you made her suffer," said Tracey savagely. - -"No. The fault was with Flora. She thought I was in love with other -women, and was jealous." - -"She had cause to be. Go on." - -"Not so, as far as she knew," replied Fane coolly. "Well, we did not -get on harmoniously. Then, finding matters were desperate with me, I -proposed to Julia, and married her." - -"And you took her to the villa you had prepared for Flora?" - -"Yes, I did," said Fane defiantly. "Julia's money could keep up that -house, and Flora had none. I told Julia I was fond of yachting, and -she allowed me to go away for months at a time. She did not mind so -long as I left her control of the business, as I did. I bought into -the firm with a little of my money, and a good deal of hers. The -business rightfully belonged to her, so she did the work." - -"And you went away yachting?" - -"I never yachted at all--or very little," said Fane in a contradictory -manner. "I spent the time when away from Julia with Flora." - -"And the time you indulged yourself as a commercial traveller, you -spent at Ajax Villa," said Calvert. - -"Yes. I managed to keep both wives, and both households." - -"Calvert and Tracey, amazed by the utter shamelessness of the man, -stared at one another. But they could not help admiring the cleverness -which he had employed to live this double life. How long did it last?" -asked Calvert. - -"For three years more or less. At last things became so bad that I -wanted to be away from Flora for a long time. I suggested that I might -be a relative of Brand and that I should go to Australia. Flora -believed that I went." - -"And all the time you were posing as Fane at Ajax Villa?" - -"I was--I told Julia I was tired of yachting. I remained at home----" - -"One of your homes." - -"In my own home," said Fane, with emphasis, "under my own name. I -suppose this man Bocaros--although I don't know him--must have seen me -and have put two and two together." - -"Yes," chimed in Tracey, "and no doubt he heard of you from Miss Mason, -who is a friend of Gerty B. She is the daughter of Bocaros's landlady, -Mrs. Baldwin, and he was frequently at her house." - -Fane groaned. "To think I should have been given away like that," he -said in a melancholy tone, "and I never knew the danger. I wonder why -Bocaros told Flora?" - -"For the money, I guess," said Tracey, "seeing she made a will in his -favour. But that needs clearing up; the professor shall do it. You get -along with your story." - -"There's little more to tell." - -"Oh yes, there's a lot. What about the crime?" - -"I am innocent," protested Fane solemnly; "I came back to Flora while -Bocaros was poisoning her mind. She accused me of being married but I -denied it. She never mentioned Bocaros, or I should have been placed -on my guard. I remained a time in the Hampstead house, and I suppose -while I was there Flora, under the direction of Bocaros, managed to -take an impression of my key. I always wore my latch-key on a chain, -but Flora could easily have taken an impression while I was asleep. -Then I went away for the last time, thinking that her jealous fears -were at rest. She told me about the money, and I was enraged to think -how I was done out of it. Julia has not ten thousand a year," said -Fane sadly, "or anything like it. I would have done better to stick to -Flora." - -"Go on," said Arnold impatiently, "for heaven's sake spare us these -remarks. You left the Hampstead house, thinking all was well." - -"Yes," replied Fane, with a sullen glance at the man who rebuked him, -"and all would have been well but for that interfering Greek. I went -down to Westcliff-on-Sea, and stopped with my wife." - -"With Miss Julia Mason?" - -"With my wife," said Fane savagely; "I look upon her as my wife." - -"Does she know you were married before?" - -"No. She knows a lot and about the death of Flora. But she thinks----" - -Arnold rose. The man sickened him. "Don't say anything more. I can -understand what lies you told her. Come to the point. Why did you come -up on that night to Ajax Villa?" - -Fane gave Arnold a second ugly look. "I came, because on the morning -of the twenty-fourth I received a letter from Flora saying she had -found out my house and was going there on that night to see my wife. -She insisted I should be there also so that she might learn the exact -truth." - -"As though a low-down cuss like you was capable of telling it," said -Tracey, in disgust; "but how did the letter come to the seaside? Did -Mrs. Brand know your address there?" - -"No. The letter was addressed to Ajax Villa, and sent on. It had been -written on the previous day, and had I received it earlier, I should -have gone to Hampstead and seen Flora. As it was, I had no time, and -could see her only at the villa." - -"You had the whole day," said Arnold dryly, "seeing that you received -her letter in the morning." - -"Yes. But Mrs. Fane was in the room when I received it. She became -angry, for she is a very jealous woman. I swore it was not from a -woman. She would not believe me, and all that day kept a watch on me. -I could not get away, yet I felt, to put things straight and to -persuade Flora to hold her tongue, I must. I then pretended to be ill -and went to bed. After five I slipped out and took the six train to -town. I have reason to believe that my wife followed----" - -"We'll come to that later," said Calvert quickly. "Did you go at once -to the villa?" - -"No. Flora said she would not be there till between eight and nine. I -waited in town. Then I met a friend and he detained me till nearly -nine. I got away at last, and went to the villa. It was in darkness. I -could not find Flora in the garden where I expected she would be." - -"You didn't know she had a key?" - -"No. She said nothing about it in her letter. I wondered where she -was, then concluded that as I was late she had gone away. I intended -going to the Hampstead house, but thought I would go into my own for a -time. I opened the door, and went upstairs. I entered the White Room, -and there I found Flora, dead." - -"Dead!" it was Arnold who spoke; "you swear she was dead?" - -"Yes, I swear it," said Fane, striking his breast in a somewhat -theatrical manner. "She was lying dead on the mat before the -piano, and had apparently been struck from behind. I looked at my -watch;---it was a quarter past nine. I was horrified and wondered how -she had come by her end. I searched the house. There was no one about, -and all the doors were barred. About half-past nine, while I was -searching in the back, I heard a ring at the door. I was terrified, -and thought if I were found in the house with the dead that I would be -arrested." - -"And it's a pity you were not," said Tracey. - -"A ring at the door at half-past nine," said Arnold thoughtfully; "I -expect that was Laura. She promised to meet me there then. But after a -time, as no one came to the door, she went away." - -Fane stared at Calvert. "What was Laura doing there?" he asked. "I -knew you came, but Laura----" - -"How did you know I came?" said Arnold sharply. - -"I saw you." - -"Where?" - -"In the White Room when you looked at the body." - -"Then you remained in the house?" - -"I was afraid to go," said Fane, with a shudder; "I thought some one -would see me coming out of the house, and that I would be arrested -when the crime came to light. I had an idea of disposing of the body, -but I could not. After the ring at the door I waited for a time. Then -I stole back to the White Room, and took the dagger which was lying by -the body." - -"A stage dagger?" - -"Yes. Though I didn't know it was so at the time. I went to the back -and thrust it into the dustbin out of sight. I was afraid to take it -away with me lest it should be found on me, for that with the dead -body and my relations with the dead woman, would have been evidence -enough to hang me. I hid the dagger in the bin. Then I was coming back -to the room, when I heard footsteps." - -"Whose footsteps?" - -"I don't know. I was too afraid to venture out. I remained in the back -part of the house almost mad with terror. Calvert," cried Fane, -clasping his hands, "I assure you I thought my brain would give way. I -fancied that the police were in the house and that the body had been -discovered. I made up my mind to be arrested. Had I but had the nerve -I would have gone back for the dagger and killed myself." - -Tracey sneered. "People of your sort don't kill themselves. Well, how -long did you hide?" - -"I can't say. Till some time after ten. Then I heard the front door -close and stole out. I went up to the White Room. The body was still -undisturbed. I wondered how I could get away and down to Southend so -as to establish an _alibi_. Then I waited and heard you come in. Yes, -I heard the door open. I concealed myself behind the hangings of the -room. I saw you enter. You started when you saw the dead and -recognised the body, to my surprise. Arnold, how was it you never knew -me as Flora's husband?" - -"I saw very little of my cousin," said Arnold, "and she scarcely spoke -of you." - -"But the photographs?" - -"I never saw any of you." - -"Yet there were several. Afterwards, when all was quiet, and after the -body was buried, I went to the Hampstead house and removed all papers -and photographs so that my connection with Flora might not be known." - -"You forgot a photograph that Derrick found, and one that I picked -up," said Tracey; "then there was a diary." - -"I never thought of the diary," said Fane, passing his hand across his -face, "yet I should have. Flora told me she kept one, and I might have -guessed she would set down everything. But I was in such terror at -being discovered in the Hampstead house that I forgot." - -"You were a coward right through," said Arnold coldly; "however, go -on. What happened after you saw me?" - -"I waited. You went down the stairs evidently in a great fright. As -you recognised the body I knew you would not call in the police, as -you apparently fancied you might be accused. When you left I went to -the window to see you go out. I saw the officer passing, and then to -make him think that people were in the house, and to drive you away, I -set the phonograph going." - -"I heard it--I was in the hall," said Arnold, "and I was afraid. I -admit it, Fane, I was terribly afraid." - -"I guessed you would be. You left the house. I saw the policeman lean -over the gate to listen. I saw you join him. I saw you walk away. Then -I thought I would escape. When you were gone with the officer, I stole -out. I passed along a by-street. I saw a motor----" - -"My car," said Tracey, "and you took it to Charing Cross." - -"I did," nodded Fane, "then I left it there and caught the underground -railway to Liverpool Street, where I took the express to Southend. The -rest you know." - -"Not who killed Mrs. Brand," said Arnold. - -Fane considered. "I can't tell you who did," he said; "she was dead -before I came, so those who came into the house after ten could not -have killed her." - -"Do you know who they were?" - -"No! I heard footsteps." - -"How do you know there were two?" - -"I only think so. There might have been only one person. I can't say, -I was not in a state to think. I hid, and then all happened as I say. -I don't know who killed my wife. I got back to Southend and afterwards -heard the body had been discovered. I came to town and bluffed out the -whole matter with that fool of a Derrick. When I heard about the -Hampstead house being found I went there before Derrick came, and -removed everything, as I said." - -"Did you find nothing to lead you to think who killed Mrs. Brand?" - -Fane hesitated. "I can hardly say," he said, feeling in his -watchpocket, "but as you know so much you may as well know all." - -"We must know all for your safety." - -"You believe I am guiltless?" - -"Yes," said Arnold slowly, "I think you are, seeing that your story is -consistent. But we'll see. I will do nothing publicly for the sake of -your wife and Laura. What did you find?" - -Fane took out his watch-chain and produced an old-fashioned, small -round locket of pale gold. "That was in the hand of Flora," he said. -"I expect she grasped at it when the murderer struck at her." - -"There was a struggle, then," said Calvert, and opened the locket. He -gave a cry: "Calvert, it's Mrs. Baldwin's face!" - -Tracey started also. Sure enough it was the face of Mrs. Baldwin only -much younger-looking. "I said a woman did it," murmured Tracey -heavily, "but I never thought it would be that woman. Yet she might be -the one." - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -THE HOUSE IN THE FIELDS - - -While these events were taking place, Professor Bocaros was having -rather an unpleasant time with Emily Doon. One morning she came crying -to him, with the information that Mrs. Fane had dismissed her for her -treachery. "And it's all your fault," said Emily. - -"I am very sorry," began the professor. - -"What's the use of sorrow?" lamented Miss Doon. "Will sorrow keep -bread and butter in my mouth? I have been dismissed without a -character, and where am I to go?" - -"There's your sister----" - -"Oh, thank you, baron," flamed up the girl; "but I can arrange my own -affairs. You had no business telling Mrs. Fane. Had I known you -intended to play me so dirty a trick I should not have spoken." - -"It was necessary that I should do so, for my schemes." - -"Well, and what are your schemes coming to? Here am I without a -situation, and with hardly a penny. I shan't go to Fanny's. She would -keep me toiling and moiling in her horrid lodging-house from morning -to night. I am not used to hard work. Keep your promise and marry me." - -"I am only too glad to do that," said Bocaros quickly. "You know that I -love you very dearly." - -"You wouldn't treat me so badly if you did. What about the money?" - -Bocaros frowned. "I can't say yet," he said. "But get that money I -will. As to your dismissal, I shall see Mrs. Fane and put it right." - -"Not with her," said Emily, rising. "She's a hard one, she is, and I -shan't go back to be sneered at. Money or no money, I marry you." - -"But if I don't get the money," said Bocaros doubtfully. - -"I'll still have the title, and one can do so much with the title." - -"The professor seized her wrist. When you marry me you will have to -behave yourself," he said. "I am not going to give you my honoured -name for you to drag in the mud." - -"I'll do as I like," gasped Emily defiantly. - -"You will not. Become my wife if you choose, for I love you too well -to give you up, money or no money. But once you are the Baroness -Bocaros, you will be above suspicion. Play me false, soil my name, and -I'll kill you." - -"You look just the sort to kill a woman," said Miss Doon, wrenching -her hand away. "For all I know, you killed that cousin of yours to get -the money." - -The professor shook her hard. "How dare you say that!" he exclaimed -furiously. "I do not know who killed my cousin. But I more than -suspect Arnold Calvert. I spoke to your mistress. She can prove much, -and she will. The money--the money----" Bocaros convulsively opened -and shut his hand. "I must have that money." - -"Well," said Emily, rising to go, "you hear me. I'm going to Fanny for -a week, and I shall expect to hear from you. I'll marry you as soon as -you can get the licence, and I'll behave as I like." - -"No," said Bocaros savagely. - -"Yes," she retorted. "Don't you think I'm a fool, baron, because I'm -not. I can play my own game. If you don't marry me, I'll tell the -police what I told you." - -"You'll ruin your mistress if you do." - -"She's ruined me," retorted Miss Doon, her hand on the door, "and I -always pay my debts. I don't know what game you are playing, but, as I -say, I can play my own." - -Bocaros made a dash at her, but she was too quick for him. With -wonderful dexterity she whipped through the door, and was outside, -walking rapidly away, before he had time to recover from his rage. He -went back to his chair, and flung himself down with a curse. Mrs. Fane -had evidently played him false, since she had behaved so with her -maid. Bocaros had thought she was in his power, but the dismissal of -Emily showed that Mrs. Fane was quite prepared to make the matter -public. If this were the case, she might not be ready to assist him in -punishing Arnold, since she would not care to be mixed up with a -murder case. And the whole chance of getting the money out of Calvert -lay in the fact of the matter being kept quiet. From Arnold's -demeanour Bocaros did not think he was guilty, but he fancied he could -frighten him, and so gain his ends. But if Mrs. Fane made the whole -affair public, Calvert might--and probably would--face the worst. No -money would be forthcoming then. So Bocaros sat gnawing his fingers, -filled with perplexing thoughts and looking old and worn. - -"I'll see Jasher," he said to himself, "and tell him all. He may see a -way out of the matter. I'll write to him to come here this evening." - -So saying, the professor sat down and wrote a letter, which he -directed to the Private Inquiry-Office. He closed the envelope and -stamped it, and then returned to his seat. Hardly had he sat down when -a sharp knock came to the door. Glancing through the window, the -professor saw Calvert and Tracey on the step. Here was the very man he -was wishing to circumvent putting his head into the lion's mouth. But -Bocaros did not like the presence of Tracey, as the American was so -sharp. He could deal with Arnold, but Tracey was beyond him. At first -he decided to remain quiet in the hope that the two men would depart, -but his curiosity got the better of his prudence, and he opened the -door, to be met by the smile of Luther. - -"Well, professor, and how are you?" said Luther, stepping inside -without an invitation. "I have brought Mr. Calvert to see you. We want -to say a few words." - -"I am delighted to see you, Mr. Calvert," said Bocaros, very much on -his guard from this polite demeanour of Tracey. "Come in. I hope you -will excuse my humble abode. With your money, you are used to -palaces." - -"Only to Bloomsbury lodgings," said Arnold, taking a seat. "You forget -I have only come into my kingdom lately. By the way, was not that Mrs. -Fane's maid I saw leaving your house?" - -"It was. She came on an errand." - -"Arnold glanced curiously at the man. He did not know the truth, nor -could he guess what errand had brought Miss Doon to this lonely house. -He was seated near the window, and the professor went to get another -chair. Tracey, who was walking about, spied the letter to Jasher on -the desk. Taking it up, he looked at the address, then without a -moment's hesitation slipped it into his pocket. Arnold did not see -this proceeding, or he might have objected. But Luther had considered -the matter. He suspected Bocaros, and wondered what devilry he was up -to in corresponding with Jasher. He therefore took the letter to read -at his leisure, and should it be harmless he would send it on. But -Tracey was unscrupulous, and thinking he was dealing with a rogue, -resolved--as in the present instance--to beat him with his own -weapons. Having thus accomplished his purpose, he returned to his -seat, when Bocaros, with an extra chair, entered the room. - -"Well, gentlemen," said the professor when seated, "what can I do?" - -"That's rather a difficult question to answer, professor," said -Calvert, signing to Tracey to hold his too fluent tongue. "Mr. Tracey -and I have come to see you about this murder." - -"What have I to do with it?" asked Bocaros coldly. - -"Well, you asked me to search for the criminal, and said if I did not, -you would do so yourself. Have you?" - -"Yes," replied Bocaros, "I have searched with Jasher. From all I have -learned, sir--since we are to speak plainly--I think you are the -guilty person." - -"And if I am, professor, what will you do?" - -"Bocaros rose. I don't exactly know. I hate you for killing Flora, who -was a charming woman; but since you are a relative of mine----" - -"Only a relative by marriage," interrupted Calvert. "That hardly -counts, I think." - -"Still, you are a relative," persisted the professor, "so I am willing -to hush the matter up." - -"For money, I guess," said Tracey, who had not lost a word. - -"Certainly, for money," said Bocaros dryly. "The fortune of my cousin -should be mine. She changed her mind and left it to you. I claim -half." - -"And you will hold your tongue if I give you five thousand a year?" - -"Yes; I will certainly do that," said the professor, thinking he was -getting on capitally. - -"What about the detective?" asked Luther. - -"Jasher? Well, you will have to settle with him also. He will require -money also." - -"And if I refuse to pay you or Jasher?" asked Arnold. - -"I shall ask Jasher to see Inspector Derrick and tell what we know." - -Arnold looked curiously at Bocaros, and wondered at the hardihood of -his threat. "Merely out of curiosity, professor, I should like to know -what evidence you have against me." - -"That is easy," said Bocaros promptly. "You were not at the theatre -till after nine, and Flora was killed before then. The money you -wanted very badly. I heard about the stage dagger from Mrs. Fane's -maid, and I know you used it, and----" - -"Wait," said Arnold quickly. "All these things I can disprove by an -_alibi_. I was at my rooms till nearly half-past nine, as my landlady, -Mrs. Varney, can prove. I then went down and finished acting the part, -when Hart was unexpectedly taken ill." - -"But you were at the house," said Bocaros savagely. "Yes; later. But -Mrs. Brand was murdered before nine by your own showing, professor, so -you can prove nothing against me." - -"I can make your doings on that night public," said the other, feeling -the money slipping away from him. - -"Hardly, unless you want to find yourself in a very unpleasant -position, my good man." - -"What do you mean?" - -"I mean that Mrs. Brand left a diary behind her, which was discovered -by me and Mr. Tracey. In it, she relates your visits to her--and you -paid more than two, professor." - -"What if I did visit her?" said Bocaros, the perspiration rising on -his forehead. "She was my cousin, and----" - -"And you had every right to do so. Quite so. But had you a right to -tell her about Fane?" - -"Fane?" stammered the Greek, completely taken aback. - -"Yes. You knew before July that Fane and Brand were one and the same." - -"I did not--I did not." - -"I guess you did," said Tracey; "see here, professor, what's the use -of slinging lies? I guess we've got the bulge on you this trip. Mrs. -B.'s diary gave away the whole thing, and now we have come to ask what -you were doing in the house on the night of the murder?" - -"Or, to put it plainly," said Arnold quietly, "why you killed Flora?" - -Bocaros, as Fane had done before him, leaped to his feet. "I did not -kill the woman! I swear I did not." - -"Fane said the same thing." - -"But Fane did. He was in the house." - -"How do you know that?" asked Luther; and Bocaros, seeing he had gone -too far, was silent. "I reckon," went on the American, "that this is -what the law calls a conspiracy. You've been building up card-castles -to get that money, and they've tumbled. Now it's our turn to threaten -to make things public, professor, and if you don't speak out you will -be arrested." - -"I arrested!" gasped Bocaros, stepping back a pace. - -"Yes--for murder," said Arnold solemnly. - -"I did not kill her." - -"We have yet to be sure that you did not. At all events, you wrote -letters to me and to Miss Mason, so that you might bring us to the -house on that night, so as to implicate us in the matter. It was very -clever, Bocaros, and, but that I overslept myself on that night, I -would have been at Ajax Villa. Then, I grant you, my position would -have been awkward, seeing I inherit the money. As it is I can prove -that I had nothing to do with the matter. If you did not kill the -woman, who did?" - -"Fane," said Bocaros, with dry lips. "Yes, Fane came up from Southend, -and Fane struck the blow to rid himself of an encumbrance." - -"He says he didn't," said Tracey; "we've put him through his paces, -and, although he's a mean white, I guess he's not a murderer. How did -you know he came up from Southend? Did you write the letter to lure -him there also?" - -"No; Flora wrote it herself." - -"Under your direction?" - -"I shan't say." - -"You'll have to say," said Arnold quickly; "we will have you arrested -otherwise. What has become of the locket Mrs. Baldwin gave you?" - -Bocaros looked up doggedly. "She gave me no locket." - -"She did," insisted Calvert. "A small round locket, with her -photograph inside. You wore it on your watch-chain; and when Flora was -struck, she turned round and tore it off in her death-agony. It was -found in her clenched hand by Fane." - -"I never had any locket," said Bocaros, with dry lips. "I am -innocent." - -"You'll find that hard to prove. However, both myself and Tracey are -willing to give you a hearing." - -"What will you do if I confess?" - -"I will send you out of the country." - -"I guess that's so. We don't want your sort dumped here," said Tracey. - -"Will you give me money, so that I may not starve?" said Bocaros, -taking no notice of this speech, and addressing himself to Arnold. - -"I don't think you deserve a penny, seeing how you proposed to -blackmail me. However, if you can prove your innocence, and can tell -us who is the real criminal, I will help you." - -"I don't know who killed Flora, unless it was Fane." - -"Well then, Fane didn't," said Luther sharply. "Now, fire ahead and -reel out your yarn. No lies, mind, or there'll be trouble." - -"Sir," said Bocaros, with a dignity which never deserted him -throughout this very trying interview, "you forget I am a nobleman." - -"I know. They sell your sort at a penny a bunch abroad," retorted -Tracey. "Go on. Talk away. I want to hear of this conspiracy." - -"There is no conspiracy," protested Bocaros. "I merely wished to get -back my own." - -"Ah, you look upon the ten thousand a year as your own," said Arnold; -"may I ask how you make that out?" - -"Flora left the money to me." - -"She did, and changed her mind. How did you induce her to make a will -in your favour?" - -"It was her own good heart." - -"Rubbish!" said Arnold roughly; "if you tell lies, professor, I won't -help you. Come--the truth now." - -Bocaros meditated. He wanted money badly, and if he went abroad--and -Calvert had the power to force him to take such a course--he would -certainly starve. The school, small as the salary was, kept him alive; -but even this slender means of subsistence would be taken from him -should he be banished from England. And by the stern faces of the two -men, he saw very well that he would be judged with justice. He -therefore made up his mind to earn the money by telling the truth. -Anything was better than starvation, even loss of dignity. But for all -that, and although he was fallen from his high estate, Bocaros kept up -a dignified appearance, and spoke in his best style. - -"I met my cousin, as I told you before," he said, "and I frequently -went to see her." - -"Why did you say you only paid three visits?" asked Calvert. - -"For obvious reasons," said Tracey; "he wanted to keep his cards under -the table." - -"I don't know what you mean," said the professor quietly; "but I admit -that I did not wish you to learn the part I had taken in this matter. -I visited my cousin frequently. I saw a portrait of her husband, and -recognised Mr. Fane." - -"Where did you see him?" - -"One day--no, on two occasions, I saw him walking with Miss Mason. I -asked who he was. She told me her brother-in-law. When I saw Fane -while calling on Mrs. Fane the other day I remembered his face again. -But for the moment I forgot where I had seen him." - -"Come now," cried Luther, "you couldn't forget a face like -that--especially the face of a man whom you were trying to ruin." - -"Bocaros put his hand to his head. My brain is not very clear at -times," he faltered. "I often think I will take leave of my senses. I -assure you, gentlemen, that I forgot where I had seen Mr. Fane when we -came face to face the other day." - -"Well, it doesn't matter," said Tracey, seeing that the man spoke -truly; "go on, and tell us what you did." - -"I said nothing to Mrs. Brand for a time, although I knew that her -husband was married to another woman. She and her husband did not get -on well together, and I did not want to make them more unhappy. Then -she inherited the money, and before that Brand went presumably to -Australia." - -"He was here under the name of Fane," said Arnold. - -"He was. I saw him at times. Well, Flora got the money. I wanted some. -She talked of making a will in her husband's favour, for she still -loved him. I then hinted that he was married. She nearly went out of -her mind. I refused to tell her the truth until she made a will in my -favour. She did. And she treated me very badly," burst out Bocaros, -warm with the memory of his wrongs; "she changed the will after she -got the truth out of me. When I heard of her death, I quite thought -the money would come to me. Instead of that----" - -"It was a case of the biter bit," said Arnold. "I think Flora did -quite right. You had no right to levy blackmail." - -"It was not blackmail," said Bocaros indignantly, and really he seemed -to believe what he said. "I made her leave the money to me, and then I -told her the truth." - -"The whole truth?" - -"Not then. I did not wish her to make trouble at once. I told her that -her husband's real name was Fane, and that he had a wife and child. -But I did not say where the house was." - -"Well, what happened?" - -"Fane came back as Brand, saying he had changed his mind about going -to Australia. I advised Flora to take an impression of his latch-key, -so that she could prove the house was Fane's, by its opening the door. -She thought this a good idea. Also, she wished to get inside to see -the White Room about which I had told her. She took the impression -when Fane was asleep. I had the keys made." - -"How many?" asked Arnold quickly; "one was sent to me by you." - -"No; I did not send that. Three keys were made. One Flora kept -herself, and two she gave me. I used one to enter the house -myself----" - -"Oh, you acknowledge you were in the house?" - -"I do. I lost the other key." - -"Where?" demanded Arnold, looking keenly at the man who seemed to -speak in all good faith. - -Bocaros again looked bewildered. "I hardly know. I left it in this -room, and I never found it again." - -"Did you not send the key to me?" - -"No; I swear I did not." - -"Then who did?" - -"I can't say. The key was left here, and lost. I used the other." - -"H'm!" said Arnold, after a pause. "Go on, and tell us about your -doings on that night. We can talk of the missing key later. What -happened?" - -"I appointed to meet Mrs. Brand in the garden. She had the key, and so -had I. She told me that she had written asking her husband to come up. -She sent the letter to Ajax Villa, and thought it would be sent on. I -was annoyed at this." - -"Did she tell you this when you met?" - -"No; because we did not meet on that night." - -"How was that?" - -"I was kept till late at the school and could not get away. It was ten -o'clock before I left, as I could not get away earlier although I -pleaded an engagement. I thought Flora would enter the house and wait. -I arrived a few minutes after ten, and saw the light burning, I then -thought she was waiting. I entered with my own key, and went upstairs -to where the light was. It was the White Room. There I saw Flora -dead--stabbed under the left shoulder-blade. On seeing this I grew -afraid, and came away at once." - -"Oh!" said Arnold, after another pause; "so it was you Fane heard in -the house after ten o'clock?" - -"I was there after ten, and I went away early at half-past." - -"Who was with you?" asked Tracey; "Fane said there were two men." - -"I was alone," said Bocaros; "there was no one with me. All happened as -I say. I grew afraid, seeing that I was Flora's cousin, and that it -was I who had brought her to the house. Also, I had got the keys for -her, and she had made a will in my favour. I fancied if I were found I -would be arrested and hanged." - -"There was certainly enough evidence to hang you," said Calvert. "I -also was afraid when I found the body; I fled also. We all seemed to -have lost our heads." - -"I don't think you did, Calvert," said Tracey, "considering the slim -way you lured that policeman away. Well, professor, did you see any -one in the house?" - -"Not a soul. I was there only for a quarter of an hour or so." - -Luther nodded. "Yes; Fane said he heard you go out. But Fane fancied -there were two men." - -"I was alone," said the professor positively, and the others believed -him. He had no reason to tell lies, seeing the position in which he -was placed. His only chance of safety lay in telling the truth--the -exact truth, and he appeared to be doing so. - -"Now then," said Calvert, when he and Tracey had digested this -information, "what about the forged letters?" - -"I did not write them. Why should I?" - -"Well, you might have made up your mind to kill Flora, and then have -arranged for me to be lured there, so that I might be accused." - -"But I did not kill her; and had I written the letter to lure you, I -should not have sent one to Miss Mason also. I could not accuse her." - -"That's true enough," said Arnold perplexed; "so the key was lost in -this room. Have you many visitors, professor?" - -"Very few," said Bocaros, glancing at Tracey. "You often come," this -was to the American. - -"I do," assented that gentleman; "are you going to accuse me of taking -the key?" - -"The key has gone." - -"That is as much as to say I took it, and killed Mrs. Brand," said the -other, with a shrug; "but who else comes? That maid?" - -"She only paid me a visit after the murder." - -"Well, she can't be guilty. Who else?" - -Bocaros reluctantly admitted that Mrs. Baldwin sometimes came. - -On hearing this, Tracey looked disturbed. "Can she have taken the -key?" - -"Nonsense!" said Arnold decisively--"a fat, lazy woman like that? -Besides, the person who had the key would write the letters, seeing -that the key came in one. Why should Mrs. Baldwin desire to get me and -Laura into trouble?" - -"I don't know," murmured Tracey anxiously, and recalling Mrs. -Baldwin's behaviour at the Hampstead cottage. "She's a queer fish. -Then that locket with her picture----" - -"I have seen Mrs. Baldwin with such a locket," said Bocaros. - -"Oh, you have." Tracey, much alarmed, looked at Calvert. "I say, you -don't think she killed Mrs. Brand?" - -Grave as the situation was, Calvert smiled at the idea of Mrs. -Baldwin in the character of Lady Macbeth. "I would as soon think of my -having done it myself," he declared. "There is some mystery about all -this. Can you solve it, professor?" - -"No," said Bocaros. "I have told you all. What will you do?" - -"Interview Mrs. Baldwin, and ask her about the locket," said Arnold, -rising. "By the way, I must see Jasher. He may have made some -discovery." - -"He will be here this evening," said Bocaros. "I have written to him." - -Tracey tapped his coat. "I have the letter, and will post it. In fact, -now I have his address, I will send a wire." - -"But how dare you take my letters?" - -"Go slow, professor. I'm running this show now. We'll come here to -meet Jasher this evening, and thresh out the matter. You take it lying -down, or you won't get any money. And now, Arnold Calvert, Esquire?" - -"We will see Mrs. Baldwin about the locket," said Arnold. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -THE TRUTH - - -Mrs. Baldwin had been much disturbed since the appearance of her -husband. In her secret soul she dreaded the return of the man who had -treated her so badly. All these years she had kept her fears to -herself, but sometimes she suffered agonies. For some time these had -grown less keen, as Rufus not appearing she fancied he must be dead. -But the head of Rufus had been seen at the window: she had distinctly -seen his face, and she knew she was no longer safe. He could not touch -her money which was safely tied up, nor could he deal with the land -she owned. But he had a way of terrorising her which would make her -give him whatever he wanted. He would spend the money, treat his -children badly, leave her next door to a pauper, and on the whole make -things as unpleasant as he knew how. - -There is nothing makes a man bolder than fear. This is paradoxical but -true. Under the influence of supreme fear, the most cowardly person -will become brave to rid himself of the cause of terror. Balzac -acutely observes that "The rebellion of a sheep is terrible," and in -this way Mrs. Baldwin felt. She was a timid woman in reality and had -given in to the will of the brute she had unfortunately married. When -he went away--not being able to get more money out of her--she -breathed freely. But now that there was a chance of his coming into -her life again, Mrs. Baldwin felt all her old terrors revive. But she -determined if he did come she would kill him. To this extent had her -fear driven her. She was scared to death, and therefore was the more -dangerous. - -Had she been wise, she would have seen her lawyers and told them -everything. As Rufus had deserted her for so many years, the law would -put things right for her. As he had treated her with brutality her -evidence would enable the law to arrange matters so that she would no -longer live in a state of terrorism. She could get a separation, even -a divorce. But Mrs. Baldwin was not wise. She was a slow-thinking -woman, and the mere presence of the man terrified. If he came to rule -her again, she would not have the will to go to her lawyers and tell -the truth. She therefore took matters into her own hands and bought a -pistol which she kept under her bed-pillow in the night and under the -sofa-pillow in the day. She made up her mind that if he came secretly -to the house, as he had done, and would likely do again, she would -shoot him. She would give the man no chance of exerting his influence -over her. But of all this she said nothing, not even to Gerty, who -could not understand why her mother grew thinner and more silent. -Instead of reading and eating Turkish-delight as usual, Mrs. Baldwin -wandered about the house feeling every now and then for the weapon in -her pocket which she always took when she left the sofa. - -"I'm all right, dear," said Mrs. Baldwin fretfully when Gerty made -remarks; "I have a little worry, but it will pass away." - -Things were in this state when Tracey arrived in the company of -Arnold. The two entered the room, being introduced by one of the -twins. Gerty was away teaching an old gentleman to manage a motor-car, -and Mrs. Baldwin was alone. As usual she was lying on the sofa, but no -longer reading or eating sweets. She lay there a shapeless mass in her -tawdry tea-gown staring at the roof. When Tracey entered she started -and thrust her hand under the pillow. But when she saw it was merely -her future son-in-law she sank back with a smile. However, the sudden -start made her face white, and Tracey noted it. - -"You haven't been troubled by Rufus, have you?" he asked. - -"No," said Mrs. Baldwin, with a faint smile, "he has never been near -me since. When he does come," her eyes gleamed, "I am ready for him--I -am no longer the timid weak woman I was. How are you, Mr. Calvert?" - -"Very well, Mrs. Baldwin. You do not look well." - -"I have trouble. We all have our troubles." - -"Say," observed Tracey, "I've brought Calvert here to ask a question -about a piece of jewellery of yours." - -Mrs. Baldwin sat up. "My diamond necklace," she cried, "where is it?" - -Arnold looked puzzled and Tracey held his tongue. "I know nothing -about a diamond necklace," said Calvert; "this is what I wish you to -see----" As he spoke he extended his hand in the palm of which lay the -round locket of pale gold which Fane had produced. Arnold did not get -a chance of finishing his sentence, for the moment Mrs. Baldwin set -eyes on the unpretending piece of jewellery she gave a loud cry, -opened her eyes, and sitting up grasped Calvert by the arm: - -"Where is he?" she asked; "is he outside? If he is----" she released -Arnold and pulled out the pistol. - -"What do you mean?" asked Calvert, drawing back. - -"I guess I know," said Tracey, recalling the previous interview; "this -locket belongs to Rufus." - -"Yes it does," admitted Mrs. Baldwin, casting apprehensive glances at -the door and window, and still grasping the pistol; "where is he?" - -"Not here," said Tracey, and strove to take the pistol away. But Mrs. -Baldwin resisted. - -"He will come," she said, "and I must be ready," and with that she -replaced the pistol under the pillow. - -"What does she mean?" asked Calvert in a whisper. - -"Never mind," returned the American much discomposed, "ask her about -the locket. She's queer, that's all." - -"The locket--the locket," murmured Mrs. Baldwin, beginning to weep; "I -gave it to Rufus when I thought he wasn't a brute. My portrait is in -it. I was a young girl----" - -"Will you look at it?" said Calvert, passing the locket. - -Mrs. Baldwin shrank back as though she had been asked to handle a -snake. "No, I dare not. He has worn it. Did he give it to you; or," -she asked vindictively, "was it taken from his dead body?" - -"It was taken from a dead hand." - -"From the hand of Rufus. Is he dead? Am I free? Oh, great heavens, am -I free?" and Mrs. Baldwin clapped her hands hysterically. - -"No. It was taken from the hands of the woman who was killed at Ajax -Villa. Evidently the man who wore it----" - -"Rufus," whispered Mrs. Baldwin---- - -"Had a struggle with his victim. She might have seen the blow coming, -and putting out her hand to ward it off, must have clutched the locket -as it hung to the watch-chain." - -"Rufus wore it on his watch-chain," said Mrs. Baldwin; "it is his -locket. I gave it to him. He is a burglar. Now he is a murderer. He -will come and kill me. Where's the pistol?" and she fumbled under the -sofa-pillow, grey with fear. - -"We don't know that he's a murderer yet," said Tracey soothingly; "you -go slow, ma'am." - -"I tell you if that locket was found in the dead woman's hand, Rufus -killed her," said Mrs. Baldwin, crushing her hands together. - -"What is Rufus like in looks?" asked Tracey. - -"Fat and red-faced, with grey hair. Always smiling--always smiling--a -kind-looking man--with a black heart. A criminal--a brute, a----" - -"Tracey," interrupted Arnold, rising, "she is describing Jasher." - -"That's so," said the American, without surprise; "ever since Bocaros -confessed that Jasher was his friend I have suspected. Well, now we -know at last who killed Mrs. Brand." - -"Another woman--another woman," moaned Mrs. Baldwin, "another victim." - -"It will be his last," said Tracey grimly; "thank God he's not Gerty's -poppa. I'm sorry for the children, though." - -Mrs. Baldwin rose. "They must never know--never!" - -"If Jasher, or Rufus as you call him, is caught he'll speak out, and -the whole business will come to light," said Tracey. - -"I don't know about that," said Arnold, with a troubled look; "let us -see what we can do. Perhaps Jasher may be innocent." - -"If there was murder to be done he did it," said Mrs. Baldwin, in a -sharp manner; "do what you like, but keep the man out of my life. I'm -dangerous. Quite as dangerous as he is." - -"It's all right. You say nothing," said Tracey, and thereupon made -Mrs. Baldwin lie down. Then he sent Arnold to wait for him outside, -and soothed the woman. When he came out, he walked in silence to the -gate. "I've mailed that letter," he said, "and sent a wire also. You -bet Jasher, not suspecting anything wrong, will be at the little house -yonder to-night." - -"Will we get in the police?" - -"Not just yet," said Tracey hesitatingly; "you see, he's Gerty's -step-father after all. I guess we'll make him confess, and then chuck -him out of the country. I don't want him to be arrested." - -"We can't be sure of his guilt yet, either." - -"No. That's a fact. Bocaros is keeping something back." - -"What about Mrs. Baldwin?" - -"She's all right. I've got her quiet. So long as this man doesn't -cross her track she'll lie still. If he does----" - -"Well. What if he does?" - -"She'll drop him with that pistol of hers." - -"Nonsense. She can't shoot!" - -"She'll get the bullet into the heart of Jasher somehow, if he is her -husband, as seems likely. The woman is mad with fear, and she'll get -him out of her life somehow. I say, Calvert, don't say anything to any -one of the rubbish she talks." - -"No I won't--not if she shoots Jasher. And if he's the murderer, it -would be about the best thing that could happen. For the sake of Mrs. -Fane and the child, for Laura's sake, I want things hushed up." - -"Same here," assented Tracey, "for the sake of Gerty and the kids. And -for Momma Baldwin's sake also," he added; "I'm real sorry for her. -She's a good sort, and will sleep better when Jasher's caught." - -"But, I say, Tracey, why should Jasher have killed Flora Brand?" - -"Can't say, unless it has to do with the money. But you go slow, we'll -get at the truth this night." - -Nothing more was said at the time, and with Luther, Calvert drove back -to town. The play had ceased to run, so his evenings were now his own. -He and the American had a meal in a Soho restaurant, but neither ate -very much. When the meal was ended Tracey proposed to start for the -professor's house at once. But Arnold, calling a cab, first drove to -his lodgings. When there he produced two Derringers, and giving one to -Tracey, put the other into his pocket. - -"But what's this for?" asked Tracey. - -"I think there's going to be a row," said Arnold, leading the way -downstairs. "Jasher will show fight if he is the villain Mrs. Baldwin -makes him out to be. Then there's Bocaros. I do not trust Bocaros." - -"Oh, he's all right," said Luther, as they entered a hansom; "he's on -the money tack, and so long as you give him the dollars he'll make it -hot for Jasher." - -"Do you think Bocaros knows the truth?" - -"I'm sure of it. He only told so much as he was obliged to this -afternoon. A deep cuss is the professor. I say, it's raining!" - -"Worse," said Arnold, drawing up the collar of his coat, "a mist is -coming on. We'll get lost in those fields." - -"Don't mind, so long as Jasher don't get lost." - -The cab drove on. The fog was not very thick in town, but as they -neared Troy it became more dense. By the time they turned down -Achilles Avenue a dense white pall lay over the earth, and the air was -as cold as a December day. The cabman professed his inability to drive -them further. On hearing this Tracey hopped out, followed by Calvert. -"It's just as well," said the latter; "we don't want to make the thing -too public." - -He paid the cabman lavishly, and then the two men set off down the -side-road which ran through the ancient village of Cloverhead. They -passed along the lane which led to the stile on the verge of the -fields, and at the back of the manor saw a light on the ground floor. -"Mrs. Baldwin's bedroom," said Tracey as they jumped the stile; "she's -in bed early--it's just eight o'clock. I guess her nerves have given -way." - -"I wonder she isn't afraid to sleep on the ground floor," said Arnold. - -"Oh, she's only lost her nerve lately. She didn't mind before. I guess -she'll change her bedroom soon and get up to the garret. Say, what a -fog." - -It was indeed a thick white fog, and to make things more uncomfortable -it was raining steadily. The low-lying meadows underfoot were slushy, -muddy, and slippery. The two men toiled through the dense curtain of -mist more by instinct than by sight. Tracey knew the path to the -little house well, as he had often passed over the fields to see -Bocaros. By the feel of their boots they managed to keep to the -somewhat irregular path which ran from the stile, and so by devious -ways they succeeded in making their way across the waste. At last they -came to gorse bushes looming out of the fog, and beyond this was a dim -yellow light. - -"I guess the professor hasn't disappointed us," said Tracey, as they -felt their way to the door; "he's in there." - -"Alone, probably," said Calvert. - -Tracey shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe. It's not the night to tempt a -cat out let alone a comfortable scoundrel like Jasher, who hates, I -bet, to get his feet wet. But the business is urgent, else Bocaros -would not send for him, so fog or no fog, he's there." - -"But Tracey was wrong. When they entered the warm study and took off -their coats they formed a trio with the professor. He explained that -Jasher had not arrived. Then they sat down and talked over the matter. -The Greek had by this time turned King's evidence to save his own -skin, and to get money out of Calvert. - -"But you didn't tell us everything this afternoon?" said Arnold. - -"What else there is to be told will be explained when Jasher is here," -replied the Greek grimly; "it won't be pleasant for him." - -"Guess there's no honour amongst thieves," muttered Tracey, toasting -his steaming feet. "Say, professor," he added aloud, "why do you call -that low-down cuss Jasher?" - -"Has he another name?" asked Bocaros. - -"He's bad enough to have a dozen names," growled Tracey, who did not -intend to give away Mrs. Baldwin's secret, for Bocaros was just the -man to make capital out of it. He had only made a tentative attempt to -see if Bocaros knew anything of the matter. Apparently he did not, and -to him Jasher was simply the private inquiry-agent he represented -himself to be. - -While they were thus talking a soft knock came to the window. The -Greek put his finger to his lips and nodded silently. Evidently this -was Jasher's private signal. When Bocaros left the room to admit his -confederate--for Jasher was nothing more and nothing less--the young -men felt for their revolvers. It was not likely that Jasher would give -in without a struggle, and a show of force might be necessary. -Arnold's heart thrilled at the coming fight, and Tracey's eyes -glittered. "It might be a clearing out West," he whispered Calvert, -"with judge Lynch holding his court." - -Jasher, round and ruddy and as complacent as ever, entered in the -wake of Bocaros. He had no idea that the Greek had betrayed him, for -he shook hands--he insisted on shaking hands--with much gusto. "I am -glad you are here, Mr. Calvert," said he, sitting down. "I have much -to say. But what brings you to this quarter?" - -"We have made a few discoveries ourselves," said Calvert, "and we came -to talk them over with the professor." - -"Why, the professor knows nothing," said Jasher, still quite -unsuspicious. "Let me hear what you have found out." - -"On the contrary, I should like to hear of your discoveries." - -"Well," said Jasher, gazing into the fire, "it seems to me that Fane -committed the crime. He came up from Southend, and he was at the villa -on that night. I've an idea he knew this woman." - -"What was she to him?" asked Arnold calmly. - -"I have heard it said she was his wife." - -"Why don't you say straight out what you know?" broke in Tracey; "I -guess you knew the truth from Bocaros." - -"Bocaros!" Jasher, with sudden suspicion, leaped to his feet, and his -little eyes glittered. "What's that?" - -"This much," said the Greek, also rising, "I have told these gentlemen -all I know. Ah----" - -"No you don't," said Tracey, catching Jasher as he hurled himself -forward. "Go slow." - -Jasher tried to recover his calm. "This is some joke, gentlemen," he -said, wiping his face and looking at the watchful faces before him. -"What does Professor Bocaros know?" - -"He knows," said the Greek, keeping well behind Calvert, "that it was -you who suggested the idea of getting Mrs. Brand to make the will in -my favour. It was you who put me up to getting the key stolen and -duplicated. It was you who wrote those letters luring Mr. Calvert and -Miss Mason to the villa so that you might put the blame on them. I -never knew you meant murder, Jasher," said Bocaros, stepping forward, -"or I should not have joined with you." - -"This is all lies," said Jasher faintly. - -"It is true. And it was arranged when we found that the woman was dead -that I should engage you as a detective so that you might be able to -manipulate the case at your will. Owing to the change which Mrs. Brand -made in her will, Calvert stood in my way and in yours. It was then -that you proposed to fix the guilt of the murder on him." - -"And had I not overslept myself," said Calvert, his eyes on Jasher, "I -should have fallen into your trap." - -"Let me out of this," said the detected scoundrel, and made a dash for -the door. He was met by Tracey, revolver in hand. With an oath he -slipped round his hand for his own weapon. - -"Hold up your hands or I shoot!" said the Yankee. "Now get back to -your seat and tell the truth if it's in you." - -Sullenly and with all his surface good-nature gone, Jasher, with his -hands held over his head, sat down. "It's a lie--a lie!" he said -vehemently, finding his voice in the extremity of his danger. "Bocaros -lured the woman to the villa. I came later--a few minutes after ten. I -was admitted by him." - -"That's a lie!" said Bocaros. "You told me you let yourself in with the -key of Mrs. Brand." - -"I didn't. I was not at the villa till after ten--the woman was killed -before. I found you standing by the dead body. You killed her." - -"I did not. From the fact that you had the key to enter, I guessed you -must have seen Mrs. Brand earlier. You met her, I swear--not I. It was -you who stabbed her, and with the dagger which she brought with her to -threaten Fane. You arranged all these plans so that you could lay the -blame on others. If I did not pay up, you arranged--as you told me--to -hunt me down in your character of detective. It was you who killed the -woman to get control of the money." - -Jasher had kept his eyes steadily on the face of the professor. When -the man finished, he flung up his hands with a wild cry and pointed to -the window. "Look! Look! A face!" he shrieked. - -The others involuntarily turned. In a moment Jasher whipped out his -revolver and dashed out of the door. As he passed Bocaros he fired, -and the Greek fell to the floor. "Judas! Judas!" cried the other man, -and fled into the darkness. - -Calvert remained behind to attend to the wounded man, but Tracey, -whose blood was up because of the stratagem of which he had been the -victim, dashed after Jasher, revolver in hand. He plunged into the -cold mist, running wildly. His foot caught in the stump of a tree, and -he fell at full length. In the blinding fog it was useless to attempt -pursuit, but Jasher, without coat and hat, could not run far without -being questioned by a policeman. The recent crime in Troy had made the -police wary, and Jasher would certainly be detained. With this idea, -Tracey rose and limped back to the house. - -Meanwhile Jasher, who knew the ground well, turned to the left and ran -across the meadow. He slipped his weapon into his pocket, and raced -hard through the mist. By chance he came against the fence at the back -of the manor-house, and saw above the yellow light of Mrs. Baldwin's -bedroom. Jasher knew that she slept there, as for reasons of his own -he had made himself acquainted with all that went on in the house. He -had heard that his wife was rich because of the rise of land, and had -intended to come back with an apology for having taken the diamond -necklace. But the chance offered by the murder of Mrs. Brand to get a -large sum of money out of Bocaros proved too tempting, and thus Jasher -had remained away. Now that he was a fugitive and with--so far as he -knew--Calvert and Tracey on his track, he thought he would take refuge -with the wife he had treated so badly. He also knew that without hat -and coat he would be stopped by the police, and when he dashed out of -the professor's house it was his intention to make for the abode of -his wife. - -After listening intently and hearing nothing but the steady rain, -Jasher, cursing his bad luck, climbed over the fence. He walked up the -lawn and mounted the terrace which ran before the windows of Mrs. -Baldwin's bedroom. At the middle window he knocked softly. He heard a -cry within, and applying his eyes to a hole in the blind, he saw that -his wife was alone, reading in bed. She had half-started up, and had -her hand under the pillow. - -"Who is there?" asked Mrs. Baldwin sharply. - -"Maria. It's me--Rufus. Let me in. I am in danger!" - -"Never! Never! Go away, or I'll alarm the house." - -"Jasher pleaded, and swore, and did all he knew to make her alter her -decision. But she would not. He was drenched by the rain, shivering, -and hatless. The bloodhounds were on his track. He lost his head, and -with a furious oath dashed his whole weight against the window. The -frail structure broke inward, and, half blinded, he burst through the -curtain. As in a dream he saw his wife wild with terror start from the -bed. She raised her hand, and the next moment there came a stunning -report. With a yell Jasher threw up his hands and fell. Mrs. Baldwin's -shrieks aroused her daughter, the children, and the servants. They -rushed into the room, and found the dead man and the frantic woman. - -"A burglar--a burglar cried Mrs. Baldwin. I've killed him." Then she -threw up her hands wildly. "Out of my life at last--out of my life!" - -The next moment she was lying senseless by the side of the husband she -had shot. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -THE WIND-UP - - -So this was the end of the case which so perplexed London and London's -police. But neither the police nor the public came to know the truth, -as will appear from a conversation held between Laura and her lover a -fortnight after the death of Jasher. As they were to be married, and -there were to be no secrets between them, Arnold told her the whole -truth, suppressing nothing. Laura wept. - -"O Arnold, how terrible it is for Julia! What will she do?" - -"She has already made up her mind what to do, and I think she has -taken the wisest course." - -"What is that?" - -"She will marry Walter Fane quietly and go abroad for a time. Then no -one will ever know the truth." - -"But it might come out in other ways." - -"No. I have taken care of that. Derrick, as you know, gave up the case -some weeks ago, as he could discover nothing. The only thing he is -doing now is watching the Hampstead house for the return of the dead -woman's husband. Of course your brother-in-law will never return -there, and so Derrick will grow weary." - -"But did not Jasher confess when he died?" - -"Only to me and Tracey, dear. When Mrs. Baldwin shot him under the -impression that he was a burglar, he did not die immediately. He was -taken to the hospital, but died a few days later. In the interval he -sent for me and Tracey, and knowing everything was ended for him, he -confessed." - -"Did he exonerate the professor?" - -"Arnold did not reply immediately to the question. He was thinking -what he should say. Finally he resolved to tell the truth. - -"The best thing, Laura, is to say what Jasher told us. We wrote it -down, and he signed it in our presence lest any one else should be -accused of the crime. I don't think any one will be, as the murder has -been relegated to obscurity. Still, it is best to be on the safe side. -I have the confession here. I will read it to you." - -Laura assenting eagerly, Arnold took a sheet or two of foolscap from -his pocket and read the confession. It ran as follows:-- - -"I, Rufus Baldwin, better known as John Jasher, Private Inquiry-Agent, -swear as follows, and take my dying oath that what is here set down is -true. - -"I met Professor Bocaros when I was haunting the place where my wife -lived. I got into his confidence, and used to come to his place and -talk to him. He never knew that I was Mrs. Baldwin's husband, as I did -not think it was necessary to trust him so far. He told me of his -difficulties, and of Mrs. Brand getting the fortune. One night he told -me how he had discovered that Brand and Fane were the same. I saw a -chance of making money. I told him to hint to Mrs. Brand that her -husband was deceiving her, and said that if we could bring them -together in Ajax Villa, we could make money out of the affair. Bocaros -never thought that murder was intended. He merely fancied that I would -come to the villa when the two were together and swear to expose the -matter to Mrs. Fane and have Fane prosecuted for bigamy if Mrs. Brand -did not pay a large sum. He therefore agreed to my plan. - -"Now, my idea was to get Mrs. Brand to make a will in favour of the -professor and then murder her, so that I might share the money with -him. Also to inveigle him to the villa, so that there might be a -chance through circumstantial evidence of proving him to be the guilty -person. In order to make things safe for myself in case there should -be trouble, I arranged in my own mind that Arnold Calvert, a cousin of -Mrs. Brand, and Miss Mason, the girl he was engaged to, should be at -the villa. Then, of course, Fane would be there. So I resolved that if -necessary the crime should be fixed on Mr. Calvert, on Fane, and on -Bocaros. Afterwards, had I thought fit, I could have brought home the -crime to Mrs. Fane in my character of detective. I was anxious to make -a lot of money and to return to the United States, the only place -worth living in, to my mind. - -"Bocaros, thinking I meant to act straight, did what I told him. He -got Mrs. Brand to take an impression of the latch-key belonging to -Fane when--as Brand--he slept in the Hampstead house. She did so, and -I got Bocaros to have three keys made--one for himself, one for Mrs. -Brand, and one extra. He gave one duplicate key to Mrs. Brand, and -kept the other. The third key he left in his room. One day I stole it, -and then when he asked denied that I had done so. This key I sent to -Calvert in the name of Miss Mason, and asked him to be at the villa at -half-past nine or thereabouts. I also sent a letter purporting to be -from Calvert to Miss Mason, asking her to be at the house at the same -hour. Then I got Bocaros to tell Mrs. Brand to write to her husband -asking him to come to Ajax Villa on the night of the twenty-fourth of -July. My plans were thus arranged to trap the lot, and I could have -added Mrs. Fane, as I found she followed her husband to town on that -same night. Had she not lost him at Liverpool Street Station, she -would have also been implicated in the matter. - -"All being thus arranged, I called for Mrs. Brand on the night in -question, and took her to the villa. Bocaros was to have met us, but -he, being detained at his school, was late. I entered into the villa -with Mrs. Brand, using the latch-key. No one saw us. We went to the -White Room, and I told her of her husband's villainy. I may here -mention that it was the professor who introduced me to Mrs. Brand as -the man who knew all about the matter. He did this at my request. I -had to manage the matter myself, as I intended murder, and the -professor was too squeamish. - -"I was in the White Room with Mrs. Brand. She was much disturbed over -the matter. Drawing a dagger she had in her pocket, she declared she -would kill Fane. I suppose she indulged in this theatrical attitude -because she was half a Greek and excitable. The dagger, as she said, -was one which had been bought by Mr. Calvert for stage purposes. He -left it in her house by mistake. I managed to calm Mrs. Brand, and -took the dagger from her. She sat at the piano. I came behind her, and -lifted my arm to strike. As the stiletto struck her she gave a cry and -turned desperately on me. She clutched at my watch-chain and tore -therefrom a locket I wore, which contained a portrait of my wife. I -did not discover my loss till afterwards. Then she died. I left her -there and went away. Afterwards Fane came and found her dead. He -concealed the dagger in the dustbin. While doing this Miss Mason came -to the door. Finding that Mr. Calvert was not there she went away. -Then the professor, being late, came. I had taken the key from the -body of the dead woman, and entered after him. There was no one -about. I went upstairs and found Bocaros looking at the dead. I -accused him of the deed. He denied it, and indeed was innocent. -However, it suited my purpose to accuse him, as it gave me more power. -I led him away. Afterwards Calvert came and went away, afraid lest he -should be accused. Fane finally escaped by using Tracey's motor-car. -So all were out of the house when the body was discovered by Mulligan. - -"These are the true facts of the case. Afterwards Bocaros, on his way -to see about the will, came to my office and engaged me to look after -the case. He did this at my desire, so that I could turn the evidence -as I chose. Then Bocaros found that Mrs. Brand had cheated him, and -had given the money to Calvert. Why she did so I do not know, unless -it was that she liked Calvert the best. However, the money being gone, -I wanted to get it. I therefore arranged that the blame of the crime -should fall on Calvert. He, quite unsuspicious of my ends, engaged me -to hunt down the assassin. I was hunting down him. Had he not -overslept himself he would have been at the villa at the time of the -commission of the crime, and I would have caught him in my net. Then I -would have made a lot of money. - -"As it was, Tracey's discovery of the diary led to the detection of -Fane, and Fane's confession led to the production of the locket which -Mrs. Brand held in her dead hand. Then Bocaros grew frightened and -told the truth. The result was that I was in danger of arrest, and, -with the locket, the crime would most certainly have been brought home -to me. - -"I sought shelter with my wife, but she shot me. She said she thought -I was a burglar. I suppose she did, and----" - -Here Laura interrupted the reading. "Surely Mrs. Baldwin did think he -was a burglar," she said indignantly. - -"Of course," said Arnold quickly; "for certain she did, Laura. Had she -known he was her husband, little as she loved him, she would not have -fired the shot. And you remember the jury brought in a verdict -exonerating Mrs. Baldwin." - -"I'm glad of that," said Laura thoughtfully. "Read on, dear." - -"There's no more," said Arnold, returning the confession to his -pocket. "I shall put this in the deed-box at Laing and Merry's, to be -used should occasion arise, though I don't think it ever will. So that -ends the whole matter. We can get married as soon as possible, Laura, -and thank heaven our troubles are over." - -While Laura and Arnold were thus talking in one room, Mrs. Fane was -having a conversation with her husband in another. Walter Fane, bowed -with shame, was half lying on the sofa, and Mrs. Fane was pacing the -room. He had just confessed all, and his wife's cheeks were crimson -with anger. - -"O you coward--you mean, pitiful coward!" she said fiercely, "how dare -you marry me, to bring me to this shame! I thought you were only a -fool. But you are a knave and worse than a knave. That poor creature's -death lies at your door." - -"I did not kill her," moaned Fane, burying his face in the cushions. - -"Not in fact, but otherwise you did. Had you not led this double life -the tragedy would never have happened." - -"Well, it has happened and everything's at an end," said Fane, sitting -up sullenly. "Calvert has stifled all inquiry. Nothing will ever be -known, unless you give the thing away." - -"What do you take me for?" cried Mrs. Fane, turning on him. "Do you -think I am going to pose as a disgraced woman with your friends and -mine? I made you confess something of this when you came back to -Southend. I shielded you in my interview with Bocaros, so that you -should not be suspected. But I never thought Mrs. Brand was your -wife--you liar!" - -"What's the use of calling names?" said Fane, still sulky. - -"None--none. I have a good mind to leave you for good and all." - -"Why don't you, then?" - -"Because, after all, you are my child's father. Besides, you are a -poor miserable creature, who can't look after yourself. I shall still -continue to be your wife. We must be married again quietly and go -abroad for a time, as was our original intention. Then we will come -back, and I shall get a farm down the country near London, so that I -can come up to look after the business. After this I shall manage the -whole business myself You will be a cipher." - -"I always have been," muttered Walter. - -"Well, that is arranged, so we need say nothing more about the matter. -Let us be friends. I don't love you--I can't respect you; but for the -child's sake let us be friends." - -"You'll only bully me," said Walter hopelessly. "No," said Mrs. Fane, -in a softer voice. "You poor creature, God forbid I should be hard on -you. I am a strong-minded woman, but I am not a tyrant. I will look -after you, since you are so weak, and do my best." - -"Thank you," said Walter, "you are very good." And he meant what he -said, for the woman's superior will and mind enforced respect. - -Mrs. Fane looked at him in silence; then--a rare thing with her--she -moved towards him and kissed him. "Let us talk no more about the -matter," she said. "The old life is ended--the new has begun. Let us -talk of other things." - -"The marriage of Calvert, for instance." - -"I owe Mr. Calvert an apology," said Mrs. Fane slowly. "I did not like -him, but he has behaved nobly. But for his discretion the whole affair -might have come out in the papers, to my lasting disgrace. I give my -consent to the marriage with all my heart, and I hope that Laura will -prove herself worthy of such a good man." - -So things were arranged in this quarter, and Walter Fane got off much -easier than he deserved, considering his behaviour. Mrs. Fane told -Arnold of her intentions, and then thanked him for his kindness. After -Laura's marriage, which took place in a couple of months, they became -the best of friends. - -And it was at the marriage that Mrs. Tracey appeared so beautiful in -the character of a bride. - -"She's a clipper, is Gerty T.," said the happy bridegroom. "I'm going -to take her to the States to show what a beauty she is. The business -is humming and the money pouring in, so off we go to the U.S.A." - -"I wish you joy with all my heart, Laura," said Gerty, embracing the -bride. "And Arnold's such a nice fellow, and you are so rich." - -"Yes, we are. We intend to take a place in the country, and be quiet -people. Arnold and I like a rural life." - -"I hear Mrs. and Mr. Fane have gone abroad." - -"Yes. They will be back in a few months, and then they will take a -place down the country also." - -"I suppose they couldn't stand the villa, after the tragedy?" - -"Who could? Since they left it no one has taken it, and the landlord -intends to pull it down to exorcise the ghost. How is your mother, -Gerty dear?" - -"Oh, she's happier than ever she has been. She seems to have grown -younger since she shot the burglar." - -And then the two brides went on to talk of other things. Meantime, -Luther Tracey drew aside Calvert into a corner. "Say," was his remark, -"I haven't seen you for a time since I've been away on my honeymoon. -What of the professor?" - -"Oh, he has gone back to Greece, quite recovered from his wound. I -allow him an income sufficient to keep him alive." - -"He shouldn't have had anything. You're too good." - -"He did act badly; but, after all, I don't think the poor creature is -quite sane. He is married also--yes--Mrs. Fane's maid, Emily Doon." - -"Hum!" said the American. "I guess he was sane enough to get a -handsome bride, though. I never trusted that girl. She had something -to do with the case." - -"Don't talk of the case," said Arnold, shuddering. "When I think how -near we all were getting into the most terrible trouble through that -scoundrel----No, he's dead, let us not call him names. His evil is -buried with him. But one thing, Tracey. Did Mrs. Baldwin really know -it was her husband she killed? I know she recognised him afterwards; -but when she fired did she know?" - -"Rufus said she did, but out of consideration for the children he had -the decency not to put that into the confession. I believe she knew -all the time, and is glad she killed him." - -"Does she ever allude to him?" - -"No. She's settled down to her old lazy life, eating sweets and -reading novels. I don't think she'll ever mention his name till her -dying day. And Gerty T. knows nothing about it. I hear Mrs. Baldwin's -going to sell her land and move further into town; but she never will. -When Gerty T. and I return from the States we'll find her in the old -shanty. By the way, she's pulled down the professor's house." - -"To get rid of all memories connected with the case, I suppose. Well, -I'm glad it's ended. It was terrible." - -"Arnold, are you coming?" - -This was from the bride. Afterwards the happy pair departed for a -honeymoon on the Continent, and discussed their future plans. "You -must let me furnish the house, dear," said Laura; "I have such taste." - -"You have; you chose me to be your husband. But don't have a White -Room." - -"I never will," said Laura. "Arnold, never mention that place again." - -And Arnold never did. So after all the trouble came the peace and -calm, and the two, happy in one another, soon forgot the terrible -case. The public also forgot it, and the White Room itself has -disappeared. - - - -THE END. - - - -------------------------------------------------------- -Printed by T. and A. Constable, Printers to His Majesty -at the Edinburgh University Press - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The White Room, by Fergus Hume - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WHITE ROOM *** - -***** This file should be named 55101-8.txt or 55101-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/1/0/55101/ - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page images provided by -Google Books (The Pennsylvania State University Libraries) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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