ABSOLUTE PROOF
It did not require a particularly clever man to guess that Lord
Curberry was connected with the Society of Flies. Had he been entirely
ignorant of that association, he would not have displayed such
agitation when he saw the papers in Dan's hand, nor would he have
struggled to gain possession of them, much less have destroyed them.
Penn certainly was one of the gang, and on that account, probably
Curberry had engaged him as a secretary after the death of Moon. Also
he may have had some suspicion that Penn was a traitor, and had
guessed that the papers betrayed the society. Otherwise, he would have
placed the same before the Coroner, so as to elucidate the reason why
the secretary had been done to death. That he had been, Halliday was
quite convinced, as Penn was too nervous a man to commit suicide and
must have been assisted out of the world by some other person.
"But the verdict of suicide has been brought in," argued Laurance,
when Dan related his adventure.
"I daresay. Curberry's evidence was to the effect that Penn had been
considerably worried of late. Of course, that is true, but he wouldn't
have killed himself, I'll swear. However," Dan chuckled, "I have a
sheet or two remaining of the confession, and we may learn much from
that."
"Will it state that Curberry belonged to Queen Beelzebub's gang?"
"I think so. If Curberry does not, he would have made a row and kicked
me out of the house. I had no business in the library and no right to
take the papers, you know. But I defied Curberry to create a scandal,
and left him in a pleasing state of uncertainty as to what I knew and
what I intended to do. He was green with fright."
"You had better take care, Dan, or the society will murder you,"
warned Laurance in an uneasy tone.
"Oh, I'm safe enough for the given month," returned Halliday
positively; "so far I have said nothing, and until I do notify the
authorities all will be well with me."
"But Miss Moon?"
"I join her and Mrs. Bolstreath, at St. Pancras this evening, to catch
the six o'clock express to Thawley. Have you written to Miss Vincent?"
"Yes. There is no time to receive a reply, but she is aware that the
ladies will stay at The Peacock Hotel, Sheepeak, under the wing of
Mrs. Pelgrin. I only hope," added Freddy emphatically, "that you are
doing right in placing Miss Moon in the lion's mouth."
"Under the guns of the enemy, you said before. Oh, yes, I am right,
especially that I now hold a part of Penn's confession. I shall
contrive to let Mrs. Jarsell know that I do, and that if anything
happens to Lillian, I can make it hot for her."
"Does the confession implicate Mrs. Jarsell?"
"Yes, it does. I have not had time to decipher the crooked writing of
our late friend, but intend to do so when in the train this evening.
But the little I saw hinted that Mrs. Jarsell was in the swim."
"I wish you would leave the confession with me," said Laurance, who
was desperately anxious to know the exact truth.
"Can't, my dear fellow, nor have I time to let you read it, even if I
had it on me, which I haven't. My taxi is at the door of this office,
and I'm off to St. Pancras in five minutes. Remember, Freddy, that
this confession is my sole weapon to protect Lillian. When Mrs.
Jarsell learns that I have it, she will not dare to move, and will
keep her subjects off the grass also."
"But Curberry will tell her that he has destroyed the confession."
"So he thinks," chuckled Halliday, "but I shall tell her that I
rescued enough of it to damn her and her precious gang."
"But how can you tell her without danger?"
"I shall find a way, although I haven't formulated any scheme as yet.
Perhaps she will ask me what all this--the story of Queen Beelzebub
you know--has to do with her. I shall reply that it has nothing to do
with her, but that I know she desires to assist in my love affair. Oh,
I'll manage somehow, old son, you may be certain. Good-by."
"Wait a moment," said Laurance, following Dan to the door, "what about
Sir John Moon? He will make a row over Lillian's flight, and you will
get into trouble."
"He may make a row if he likes, but as Lillian is under the wing of
Mrs. Bolstreath, her duly-appointed chaperon, I don't see what he can
say. She is quite ready to take all blame."
"Of course," said Laurance thoughtfully, "Sir John may belong to the
society himself, in which case, like Curberry, he dare not make a
row."
"No," rejoined Dan positively, "I don't believe Sir John belongs to
the gang. I wish he did, as it would smooth things. Curberry dare not
make open trouble, because he is one of Queen Beelzebub's subjects,
but Sir John may because he isn't. However, I shall risk taking
Lillian away with Mrs. Bolstreath to play the part of dragon, and Sir
John can do what he jolly well likes. Luckily, he is in the country on
a visit just now, so we can get clear away without a fuss. By the way,
you were at the inquest. Was there any fly found on Penn's body, or
was there mention of any scent?"
"No. The man was drowned, and it was not possible for either scent or
fly to be on his corpse or clothes. The evidence clearly pointed to
suicide."
"H'm. Curberry brought that about," said Dan grimly; "however, I am
jolly well sure that Penn was murdered by one of the gang."
"Not by Curberry. He was away at the time of the death."
"Perhaps. I'd like to be certain of that. But in any case, he may have
others of the gang in his employment, who could polish off the
traitor. Queen Beelzebub's subjects are of all classes. Well, I'm
off."
Halliday took his way to St. Pancras forthwith, and found Mrs.
Bolstreath and her charge waiting for him. Lillian was greatly excited
and curious, as she did not yet know the reason for this sudden trip
northward. Instructed by Dan, the chaperon had refused to impart
knowledge, as the young man intended to tell the girl everything when
they were in the train. However, Miss Moon was enjoying the unexpected
journey and had every faith in her companion. Also, so long as she was
in Dan's company, she did not care where she went, or why she went, or
when she went. She loved Halliday too completely for there to be any
room for distrust in her mind.
"Dan," said Mrs. Bolstreath, when they were stepping into the
first-class compartment which Halliday had wired to reserve to
themselves. "I have written to Sir John saying that Lillian required a
change, and that I was taking her to Hillshire, to see some friends of
mine. When he has this explanation he will not make any trouble, or
even any inquiries. He has every trust in me."
"Good," said Dan, heartily, "you make an excellent conspirator."
"Conspirator," echoed Lillian, gaily, "now what does that mysterious
word mean, Dan? I am quite in the dark."
"You shall know all before we get to Thawley. Make yourself
comfortable!"
"Do we stay at Thawley?" asked the girl, arranging her rug.
"For the night. I have telegraphed, engaging rooms for you and Mrs.
Bolstreath at the best hotel. To-morrow we go to Sheepeak."
"Where is that?"
"Some miles from Thawley. You must live quietly for a short time,
Lillian."
"It's all immensely exciting, of course," cried Miss Moon, petulantly,
"but I should like to know what it all means."
"Patience! Patience!" said Dan in a teasing tone, "little girls should
be content to wait. By Jove, we're off."
The long train glided out of the station, gathering impetus as it left
the lights of London behind. Mrs. Bolstreath made herself comfortable
in one corner of the compartment, and Lillian did the same in another
corner, while Dan sat on the opposite seat and addressed his
conversation to both impartially. The girl could scarcely restrain her
impatience, so anxious was she to learn the reason for this unexpected
journey.
"Now, Dan, now!" she cried, clapping her hands, "there is no stop
until Bedford, so we have plenty of time to hear the story."
"One minute," said Halliday, who was now in possession of the three
sheets of foolscap, which he had rescued from Curberry's grip, "I must
bring the story up to date, and cannot do so until I read this
statement. By the way, Lillian, why should he send to you about the
matter?"
"I'm sure I don't know. But, of course, he knew how grieved I was over
my father's murder, and perhaps wished to set my mind at rest."
Dan looked at her curiously. "Why should you think that Penn knew of
anything likely to set your mind at rest on that point?"
Lillian cast down her eyes thoughtfully. "I always thought that Mr.
Penn knew much more than he would confess about poor father's death. I
quite forgot that I thought so until I got the letter asking me to
look into the second volume of Gibbon's 'Decline and Fall' in Lord
Curberry's library. Dear me!" murmured the girl, folding her hands,
"how I did try to get into the library."
"Curberry would not let you?"
"No, I think he was puzzled why I wished to go. But he did not ask me
any questions."
"I quite believe that," said Dan, grimly; "asking questions was a
dangerous game for him to play. However, when he found me in the
library, he evidently recalled your desire to go there, and it flashed
across him that we were working in consort. No wonder he destroyed the
papers on the chance that Penn might have left incriminating evidence
behind him."
"I don't know what you are talking about," said Lillian, fretfully.
"Well," observed Dan, smoothing out the foolscap, "Penn, no doubt,
left the clue as to the whereabouts of the confession to you, so that
you might learn who murdered your father."
"Ah, I always believed Mr. Penn knew. Is the name in that paper?" she
asked eagerly, and leaning forward.
"It may or it may not be, dear. You see the greater part of the
confession was destroyed by Lord Curberry. He was afraid."
"Dan!" Lillian caught her lover's hand, "you don't think that Lord
Curberry killed my father?"
"No, no, no!" said Halliday, quickly. "I am sure he did not. However,
you shall hear all that I know, and Laurance knows, and all that Mrs.
Bolstreath is acquainted with. Only let me read these few sheets
first."
The girl, on fire with curiosity, would have objected, but that Mrs.
Bolstreath touched her shoulder significantly. With an effort to
restrain her curiosity, which was creditable considering the
circumstances, she nestled into her corner of the carriage, while Dan
glanced through the manuscript. In spite of Penn's crooked
handwriting--and it was very bad indeed--it did not take much time for
the young man to master the contents of the confession. He uttered an
exclamation of vexation when he reached the end.
"Like a serial story, it breaks off at the most interesting part," he
said crossly. "However, I have learned something."
"What have you learned?" demanded Mrs. Bolstreath immediately.
"All in good time," said Halliday, quietly. "I must first tell Lillian
what we both know, and then I can bring our discoveries up to date by
saying what is in this confession," and he tapped his breast-pocket,
wherein he had placed the sheets. "Now then, Lillian."
"Now then, Dan," she mocked, "just tell me all, for I cannot keep
silence any longer."
"You will have to, if you desire to hear the story. Only don't be
worried by what I am about to tell you. You are safe with me."
Lillian shrugged her shoulders, as if to imply that there was no need
for him to state such a plain truth, and looked at him with inquiring
eyes. As she appeared to be brave and collected, Dan had no hesitation
in relating to her all that he had already told Mrs. Bolstreath, and
thus the girl became thoroughly informed of the underhand doings which
had taken place since the death of her father. As Halliday explained,
her eyes became larger and rounder and more shining. Still the color
did not leave her cheeks and although she was intensely interested she
did not display any fright. This was creditable to her courage,
considering that the revelation hinted at many possible dangers to
herself and to her lover. Dan brought the story up to the time they
started from London, and then waited to hear her opinion.
"It's dreadful and wonderful, and very horrid," said Lillian, drawing
a deep breath; "do you think that Mr. Penn murdered my father?"
"No. The evidence of the girl to whom he was dictating letters to be
typewritten proves that he did not enter the library at the time when
the death was supposed to have taken place."
"Then Lord Curberry? He----"
"I don't believe Lord Curberry, either directly or indirectly, had
anything to do with the matter," said Dan, decisively. "Sir Charles
approved of his suit rather than of mine, so it was to Curberry's
interest to keep your father alive and well. My dear, it was the false
Mrs. Brown who killed Sir Charles, and she came as an agent of this
ghastly Society of Flies, because he got to know too much about the
association."
"Then Mrs. Brown is Mrs. Jarsell?" asked Mrs. Bolstreath, anxiously.
"I can't be sure of that," said the young man, thoughtfully; "of
course, the sole evidence that proves Mrs. Jarsell to be connected
with the gang is the presence of the Sumatra scent in her Hillshire
house, and her presence on the Blackheath grounds when Durwin was
murdered."
"But, by your own showing, she could not have reached London in time."
"That is quite true and yet I recognized her plainly enough on the day
Lillian and I saw the animated pictures. However, we can leave that
fact alone for the moment. I am certain that Mrs. Jarsell is Queen
Beelzebub, for Penn says as much." He tapped his breast-pocket again.
"Oh," cried Lillian, eagerly, "what does the confession say?"
"I'll give you the gist of it," replied Halliday, quietly. "Penn
begins with a statement of his early life. He was the son of a
clergyman, and his mother is still alive. From a public school he went
to Cambridge, and thence to London, where he tried to make a living by
literature. Not being clever he did not succeed, and fell into low
water. I am bound to say that he did not trouble much about his own
poverty, but seemed to be greatly concerned on account of his mother,
who is badly off--so he says. Then he was tempted and fell, poor
devil."
"Who tempted him?" demanded Mrs. Bolstreath.
"A young man whom he met when he was staying in a Bloomsbury
boarding-house, very hard up. The man said that he belonged to a
society which could make its members rich, and proposed to introduce
Penn. This was done, in the same way, I presume, in which I was taken
to these mysterious headquarters. The first fruits of Penn's
connection with Queen Beelzebub was that Sir Charles Moon engaged him
as secretary, so, getting a good salary, he was enabled to give his
mother many comforts."
Lillian looked alarmed. "But my father did not belong to the
association."
"No. Of course he didn't. But Penn was placed as his secretary--the
business was managed through Curberry, who _does_ belong to the
gang--so that he might inveigle Sir Charles into becoming a member.
Penn appears to have lost his nerve, and did not dare to persuade Sir
Charles, so another person was put on to the business. The name is not
given."
"But why did Queen Beelzebub wish my father to belong to the gang?"
asked Lillian, with natural perplexity.
"The reason is plain, my dear. Sir Charles was an influential man, and
could be of great service to the association. He learned enough to
show him what a dangerous organization existed, and then sent for Mr.
Durwin, who belonged to New Scotland Yard, so that he might reveal
what he knew. Penn learned this, since he saw the letter written by
your father, Lillian, and at once told the society. Then the false
Mrs. Brown was sent to stop Sir Charles, and----" Dan made an eloquent
gesture with his hands. There did not seem to be much need of further
explanation.
"Mrs. Brown undoubtedly murdered Sir Charles," commented Mrs.
Bolstreath, in a thoughtful way, "but is she Mrs. Jarsell?"
"Penn says as much," repeated Dan, who had made the same remark
earlier, "but it is just at that point he ends. Listen and I shall
read you the last sentence," and Halliday took the papers from his
pocket. The three sheets were intact, as Curberry did only rend away
the remainder from the brass clasp. At the end of the third page
Halliday read, "Mrs. Jarsell of the Grange, Hillshire, can explain how
Mrs.----" Dan broke off with a frown. "Here we come to the end of the
page, and can learn no more. Curberry burnt the most important part of
the confession, which doubtless gave full details of Mrs. Jarsell's
connection with the gang."
"She could explain about Mrs. Brown, I suppose," said Lillian,
quietly.
"Yes. The first word over the page is, I am certain, Brown. What is
more, I believe Mrs. Jarsell and Mrs. Brown are one and the same."
"If I see Mrs. Jarsell, I may recognize her, Dan. I saw the false Mrs.
Brown, remember, and it was because of me that she was admitted to an
interview with my father."
"If you do recognize her, which I doubt, you must not let on you know
who she really is," Dan warned the girl; "our business just now, and
until we get more evidence, is to pretend entire ignorance of these
things. You are up in Hillshire for a change of air, Lillian, and know
nothing. Mrs. Jarsell, relying on the clever way in which she was
disguised, will never dream that you connect her with the poor woman
who came on that fatal night to see your father. You understand?"
"Quite," put in Mrs. Bolstreath, before the girl could speak, "and I
shall see that Lillian acts her part of knowing nothing."
"Remember you deal with an extraordinarily clever woman, Mrs.
Bolstreath."
"I am a woman also, so diamond can cut diamond."
"But, Dan," asked Lillian, timidly, "do you think that Mrs. Jarsell
really did murder my father?"
"On what evidence we have, I believe she did. She murdered your father
and Durwin because they knew too much, and I should not be surprised
to learn, in spite of the verdict at the inquest, that she got rid of
Penn."
"Why should she?"
"Penn let out too much to me," explained Dan, putting away the
confession, "and, in any case, was a weak sort of chap, who was a
source of danger to the society. Queen Beelzebub, who is, I believe,
Mrs. Jarsell, evidently thought it was best to silence him. I am sure
that Penn did not commit suicide, and was drowned by Mrs. Jarsell.
Still, in the absence of further evidence, we can do nothing."
"What action will you take now?" asked Mrs. Bolstreath, quickly.
"Before leaving Thawley to-morrow morning," said Halliday, after a
pause, "I shall post this confession to Laurance, and tell him to make
use of it only should he hear that anything happens to me."
"Or to me," chimed in Lillian, and looked a trifle nervous.
"My dear, nothing can happen to you," said Dan, decidedly, "cheek by
jowl, as it were, with Mrs. Jarsell, you are perfectly safe. Queen
Beelzebub confines her doings to London and keeps the name of Mrs.
Jarsell clean in Hillshire, for obvious reasons. The Grange is her
place of refuge, and no one would connect an innocent country lady
with criminal doings in London. If she is what we think her to be, she
will not hurt a hair of your head in Hillshire."
"All the same, I don't intend to see her," said Lillian, determinedly.
"There is no reason that you should. She may call and try to learn why
you are staying at the Peacock Hotel, and, if so, will probably ask
you to The Grange. Don't go," ended Dan, emphatically.
"Of course not," put in Mrs. Bolstreath, equally decisive, "leave that
to me, since I am responsible for Lillian."
"You can say that I am ill with nerves or consumption, or something,"
said the girl, vaguely. "I don't want to meet the woman if she
murdered my father."
"If you do," said Dan, impressively, "don't reveal your suspicions,"
and then he went on to instruct the two ladies how they were to behave
in the enemy's country. That they were safe there, so long as they
pretended ignorance, Dan did not doubt, but, should Mrs. Jarsell learn
that they knew so much about her, she might adopt a counsel of despair
and strike. It did not do to drive so dangerous a woman into a corner.
For the rest of the journey very little was said. The subject had been
thoroughly threshed out. Lillian had been informed of what was going
on, and all plans had been made for the future. The girl was to live
at the Peacock and see Miss Vincent, and chat with Mrs. Pelgrin, and
take walks and admire the country, and to conduct herself generally as
one who came simply for a change of air. If she did not go to The
Grange--and on the plea of illness, she could excuse herself from
going--Mrs. Jarsell could not harm her in any way. And, indeed, even
if Mrs. Jarsell did succeed in getting her to come to afternoon tea,
Dan had a plan in his head whereby to ensure Lillian against any use
being made of the Sumatra scent. It was a daring thing to take Miss
Moon into the jaws of the lion, yet that very daring would probably
prove to be her safeguard. But Halliday had done what he could to
guard against the events of a threatening future, and now could only
wait to see what would take place. At the moment there was nothing
more to be done.
In due course the train arrived at Thawley Station, and Dan singled
out George Pelgrin to convey luggage to a cab. Mindful of his last
tip, George displayed great alacrity in performing his duties as
porter, and, what is more, when he received another half-crown gave
inadvertently a piece of valuable information, which Halliday was far
from expecting.
"That's the second two-and-six since yesterday," said George, spitting
on the coin for luck. "Mrs. Jarsell gave me the same when she came
back yesterday evening."
"Oh," Dan was startled, but did not show it, "your Sheepeak friend has
been to London then?"
"Went a couple of days ago, and came back last night," said Pelgrin,
"and she says to me, 'George, look after my traps, for you're the only
smart porter in this station,' she says. Ah, she's a kind lady is Mrs.
Jarsell, and that civil as never was. There's the luggage in the cab
all right, sir. The Vulcan Hotel? Yes, sir. Drive on, cabby."
Mrs. Bolstreath and Lillian had not heard this conversation, but Dan
pondered over it on the way to the hotel. Mrs. Jarsell had, then, been
in London at the time of Penn's death, and probably--although he could
not prove this--she was responsible for the same. When the young man
arrived at the hotel, and the ladies went to rest, he wrote a letter
to Laurance, detailing the new fact he had learned, and instructed him
what use to make of the confession if anything happened to himself in
Hillshire. Then he enclosed the confession and went out personally to
register the packet. Once it was posted he felt that he had done all
that was possible.
"And now," said Dan, to himself, "we'll see what move Queen Beelzebub
will make."