JENNIE BRAWN MAKES A DISCOVERY.
The next day Mr. Cass informed Ruth that Geoffrey Heron was coming to
spend a few days at Hollyoaks. He made no attempt to conceal his reason
for asking the young man.
"It is necessary," he said, "that I should talk over this deplorable
matter with him. Anything further that has to be done in connection
with the possible release of Mrs. Jenner must be done through me. I am
her oldest friend; I am her son's best friend; and I have a right to
bring the matter to a creditable issue. Do you not agree with me?" He
looked at her keenly.
"Yes, papa, I do," she replied, feeling more at ease in her mind now
that she saw he did not shirk the investigation. "I only wish I had
told I you before. But you must do me the justice to own that I never
expected to find you in any way connected with it."
"The wonder is that you did not find me mixed up in it earlier," he
said. "I have had so much to do with Mrs. Jenner and her son that
I could hardly help being concerned in their trouble. But you need
not worry about me, child. I am quite able to protect myself and to
explain, when the time comes, how that broken link came to be lost."
"If you will only do that----"
"Ruth, is it possible that you believe your father guilty of this
crime?"
"Oh, no, I do not; but----"
He turned away. "Well, say no more about it," he said, in a softer
tone than was usual with him, for he saw that the girl was terribly
troubled. "There is, on the face of it, some ground for you to doubt
me. I do not for a moment deny that such is the case. But I hope to
right myself in your eyes. Still, you must give me time to consider the
matter."
"You are not angry with me, then?" she asked, anxiously. "I am
displeased that you should have undertaken this investigation without
telling me your intention. But I can forgive you, for I know how
impulsive you are. Let us say no more about it. My task is to get at
the truth of this matter; and with Geoffrey's assistance I hope to
do so. All I ask is that you should be silent and leave things in my
hands. And never conceal anything from me again."
"I will do all you say," replied his daughter, and kissed him.
In due time Geoffrey arrived. He was in high spirits and brought the
best of news from Bognor. Neil was mending rapidly and would soon be on
his feet again. Since he had found a friend and brother in Geoffrey he
had become much less morbid, and was beginning to take quite a cheerful
view of life. If his mother could only be proved innocent and set at
liberty he would have little left to wish for. As for Ruth, his love
for her had by some strange mental process been obliterated during his
illness, and he rose from his sick-bed with nothing more than a strong
feeling of friendship for the girl who had so recently been all the
world to him. And, indeed, when Miss Cass came to hear of this she was
not over well pleased. But it was not long before she blamed herself
for her vanity, and reminded herself that this was quite the best thing
that could have happened to her former lover.
After dinner Mr. Cass carried Geoffrey off to the library; he
particularly wanted to have a few words alone with him, he said. Heron
had not the least idea what the subject of their talk was to be, Mr.
Cass having merely invited him to spend a few days at Hollyoaks, saying
he had an important subject to discuss with him. And it had passed
through Geoffrey's mind that Ruth must have confided in her father
their tacit engagement. He was a good deal astonished, therefore, when
Mr. Cass abruptly informed him that the matter referred to was that of
the Jenner murder.
"Why, Mr. Cass!" exclaimed the young man. "How do you know about that?
And what do you know?"
"Ruth told me that you were interesting yourself in it," was the reply,
"and I know all that she could tell me. I was not very pleased to find
that she had been getting mixed up in the affair."
"It was her own wish," Heron said. "I did not like it myself, and I
should have been the last person in the world to tell her anything
about it. But, after all, it was but the curiosity of a young girl. No
one can blame her."
"No one can blame any woman for being curious," Mr. Cass said, drily.
"All the same, feminine curiosity can do a lot of mischief when it is
not properly directed--as in this instance. Will you please to tell
me, Heron, exactly how Ruth found it out?"
Not knowing that Mr. Cass wished to compare his story with Ruth's,
Geoffrey willingly consented, and informed him of Ruth's visit to Mrs.
Jent, and how the outcome of it all, so far as he was concerned, had
been his discovery of the fact that Ruth was willing to marry him. "And
that is, after all, what I care most about," he said, with a happy look
in his eyes.
"I am very glad of it," Mr. Cass said, soberly. "I always wanted her to
marry you; I think you will be able to control her. I was afraid at one
time that she would have run away with Webster."
"I don't think that he would have run away with her," replied Geoffrey.
"He decided to give her up when he learnt the secret of his parentage.
Now he has got over his love, and is quite willing that she should
marry me. Poor Neil! He has had a bad time."
"That could not have been prevented. I did my best to spare him the
knowledge of his mother's fate. She asked me to make her the promise,
and I did so.
"Do you think she is guilty?
"I really can't say," replied Mr. Cass with some hesitation. "When she
was arrested I implored her to defend herself if she could. But she
obstinately refused to open her mouth. She certainly never told me that
Neil had killed his father."
"Do you believe he did?"
"No, certainly not. I believe the child got up
from his bed in a dazed condition on suddenly waking out of the trance.
He came into the room and found his father lying dead with the knife on
the floor beside him. Naturally enough the child picked up the knife.
Then, no doubt, his reason became unsettled, added to which the cold to
which he was exposed that night when his mother fled, was altogether
too much for him, and he fell seriously ill."
"He remembers nothing of all that," Heron said. "I asked him myself. He
remembers his childhood up to the time his mother put him to bed that
night, or rather, I should say, up to the time when he struck at his
father with the knife. His memory re-commences from the time of his
recovery from the illness which followed, but the interval is a blank.
Of course, he might have seen the assassin. But I am sure," continued
Heron, firmly, "that his mother is not the guilty person. She denies
having committed the murder, and says she was silent on Neil's account."
"Does she suspect anyone?" asked Mr. Cass; and Heron noticed that he
did not give an opinion as to her guilt or innocence.
"No, she cannot think who did it. I asked her about the links, or
rather about the part of one which Ruth found under the window. I
suppose, she told you of her discovery?"
"Yes, she did. By the way, have you the link with you?" Heron took it
out of his pocket-book and laid it on the table. "It is a curious one,"
he said. "The pattern is an odd one and not in very good taste."
"Oh, I don't know," Mr. Cass said, with studied carelessness. "I have
seen the same kind of thing. They were in vogue some years ago. Each
oval has a different design on it--a ballet girl, a bottle, a horse,
and a pack of cards. They were known as the 'four vices.' What does
Mrs. Jenner say about this?"
"She cannot think who can have worn them; she says she never saw such a
set before."
Had Geoffrey Heron been an observant man he would have seen a distinct
expression of relief pass over the face of his host; but he remarked
nothing, and Mr. Cass went on.
"It is possible the person who killed Jenner may have dropped it," he
said. "But I am afraid it is but a slight clue after all these years.
Besides, if Mrs. Jenner cannot guess the motive for the crime, I don't
see how we can."
"She thinks the motive was fear of blackmail on the part of the
assassin," said Geoffrey.
"Ah!" said the merchant, significantly. "I am not astonished. Jenner
was a clerk in my office, and as thorough a blackguard as ever walked.
He was exactly the man who would have blackmailed another if he could
have done so with safety. But what reason has Mrs. Jenner for thinking
this?"
"Because her husband had boasted to her that in a red pocket-book which
he flourished in her face he had the materials for getting money. Now,
that pocket-book was not produced at the trial."
"I see," said Mr. Cass, his chin on his hand. "You think the murderer
stabbed Jenner as he stood by the window, stole the pocket-book, and
had his link wrenched off in the struggle?"
"That is the only way in which I can account for the crime."
"It seems feasible enough," replied the merchant, musingly. "But I
do not see how I can help you to trace the man. After Jenner left my
office I saw very little of him. If Mrs. Jenner cannot tell whom it was
he intended to blackmail no one else can."
"She does not know, Mr. Cass. Her husband gave her no hint. All he said
was that he could make money out of what he had in that pocket-book.
She held her tongue, as you know, for her son's sake; now she sees that
it was wrong. But she did it for the best.
"I suppose she did," said Mr. Cass, giving the link back to Heron. "But
I wish she had spoken out when I asked her. I could not induce her to
be frank. She merely declared that she was prepared to suffer. Well,"
Mr. Cass rose to his feet, "I don't think there is anything more to be
said, Heron."
"But how are we to continue the search?"
"Leave it in my hands for the moment. I will see Mrs. Jenner, and
between the two of us, seeing we knew Jenner better than anyone else,
we may find out who it was he intended to blackmail. If that should
fail, I really don't know what to suggest.
"Well, I will wait till you have seen her," Geoffrey said, and went off
to bed.
He rose early, and was out walking up and down the terrace before
breakfast. Ruth was not down, but he could see Jennie Brawn playing
with little George Chisel and Ethel. Mildred was not visible, but in a
few minutes he found her seated in a disconsolate attitude on the steps.
"What is the matter?" he asked, for he was fond of children.
"It's Aunt Ruth," said the child, tearfully. "She won't give me back my
doll's brooch."
"Oh, I'll ask her to give it back. What is it like?" He asked the
question carelessly, little dreaming of what the answer would be, nor
guessing the consequences which would ensue.
"It's a gold brooch, with a horse on it, a dear little horse."
Even then it did not enter his mind that the brooch referred to had any
connection with the links of which he had spoken to his host the night,
before.
"How big was it?" he asked. "If Aunt Ruth won't give it back I'll try
and get you one like it."
"Oh, I think grandfather will give me another," Mildred said, hopefully.
"He gave me this. It is this size," she drew a small oval in the dust
with her finger, "and that shape, with a horse on it in pretty colours,
and a little thing on the back to put a thread through so that my
doll can wear it. It is so pretty." Heron felt as if he had received
a blow. For was not the child describing, with the exception of the
design, the broken link he had in his pocket? And she had got it from
her grandfather! Without a word he took the link out of his pocket and
shewed it to the child. She pounced on it with a scream of delight.
"Why, that's my brooch!" she cried. And then on a nearer view: "No, it
isn't. Here's a nasty bottle! Mine had a horse on it."
The young man remembered the description given by Mr. Cass of the links
known as the "four vices," and he could no longer refuse to believe
that it was he who had given Mildred the link which matched the one now
in her hands. And that link had been found under the window of the very
room in which the crime had been committed! "Could it be possible----
No! No!" cried Geoffrey, staggering back, his ruddy face pale. "It
cannot be!"
"What is the matter, Mr. Heron? Are you ill?" asked the child, rising.
"No, I am not ill, dear. But give me back my brooch."
"I don't like it," she said, thrusting it into his hand. "A nasty
bottle! Mine with the horse was much nicer. I'll ask grandfather to
give me another. Now I'm going to play, Mr. Heron, do ask Aunt Ruth to
give me back my dear little brooch."
The prattle of the child worried him terribly. "Yes, yes," he said,
impatiently; "but run away and play now, dear." And as Mildred
scampered off "Great Heavens!" he thought. "Can Cass have murdered the
man? Impossible! He could have had no motive."
He was thankful to be alone, for he felt that in his present state of
mind he could speak to no one. Therefore, still thinking of the new
discovery he had made he felt annoyed to see Jennie Brawn leave the
children and come towards him. He would have escaped her by walking
off, but she called to him, and he had, perforce, to remain. She looked
anxious and worried.
"Mr. Heron, I wish to speak to you particularly," she said. "I am so
glad to find you alone. You look ill."
"I have had rather a shock, but really I am all right," he said, with
an attempt at a smile. "What is it, Miss Brawn?"
"Well," she said, "it is a somewhat curious story. You know Ruth
brought back with her a toy horse which she put into a drawer in her
bedroom. She gave the children permission to open the drawer, and
there they found the horse, George took possession of it and hid it
away. Well, he produced the animal the other day; pulled it out of its
hiding-place and proceeded to cut it open-to see what was the matter
with it he said: I was in the room and watched him without paying much
attention. If I had had my wits about me I should have recognised
Ruth's horse and would not have allowed him to touch it. But, however,
he did so and pulled out all the stuffing. I saw that he was making
a mess on the carpet and went to stop him. Then I found among the
stuffing a paper with your name on it. I waited for an opportunity of
giving it to you, and here it is." And Jennie put into his hand a bill
of exchange, old, discoloured and crumpled.
Hardly knowing what he was doing Heron glanced at the document and saw
that his father's signature--Geoffrey Heron--was written across the
bill, while the signature at the foot was that of Frank Marshall.