CHAPTER XVII.

HERON FOLLOWS THE TRAIL.

Ruth could not rid herself of a haunting doubt that her father knew

more of the Jenner murder than he chose to confess. If he himself had

not killed the man in a fit of impetuous rage--and the girl could not

bring herself to think this--he knew who had struck the fatal blow.

Ruth was certain now that Mrs. Jenner was innocent, notwithstanding

the fact that she had been found guilty. This being so, she argued to

herself that if her father were aware of the truth he should at once

take steps to remedy the grave miscarriage of justice which had taken

place. But as he made no move, Ruth, perplexed and doubtful, became

quite ill with suspense. It was no wonder then that Geoffrey had found

her poor company, and had failed to understand her constant melancholy.

Under these circumstances he had taken his departure, wondering what

had befallen the house which had formerly been so bright and pleasant.

But no satisfaction was to be had either from Mr. Cass or from his

daughter.

On arriving at his own place he went at once to the library to look

for some document with his father's signature in order to compare it

with that on the bill. And after a close inspection of some half-dozen

autographs of the late Mr. Heron, he came to the conclusion that the

signature to the bill was a forgery. Once convinced of this, he began

to see daylight, and argued out the case that evening, alone and

undisturbed.

"Jenner was at one time a clerk in the firm of Cass and Marshall,"

he thought; "therefore he must have known Marshall very well; he was

dismissed, and so had no cause to love his employers. Mr. Cass, so

far as I know, was always an upright man, and Jenner had no chance of

injuring him in any way. With Marshall the case was different. If I

remember rightly, Mrs. Jenner told me that her husband and Marshall

were as thick as thieves; the master patronising the clerk on account

of the man's beautiful voice and musical accomplishments. Marshall,

too, lived a gay life, and was given to spending pretty freely. It is

quite possible that he might have made use of Jenner as a tool to get

more money through this bill! Five hundred pounds," said Geoffrey,

looking at the document in question. "Humph! Just the sum he might

require for an emergency." He turned over the bill, and found it

endorsed by Julius Roper. "Ah!" he went on, "where have I heard that

name? Roper--Roper--I am sure someone spoke of Roper."

Suddenly it flashed into his mind that Roper was the moneylender in

whose employment Jenner had been after he had failed on the stage.

"The bill was discounted in the office in which Jenner was employed,"

he thought, with growing excitement, for the matter was becoming more

interesting every minute, "and Jenner, knowing it was forged, stole

it from Roper. He meant to use it as a means of extorting blackmail!

Ah!" He stopped short. "Blackmail? It was of that he boasted to his

wife--this, then, was the material for getting money that he said he

had in the red pocket-book. The pocket-book has disappeared; but the

bill?--Humph! How did it get inside the horse? Could Jenner himself

have put it there? If so, why? What was his reason? I must see Mrs.

Jenner and ask her. Between the two of us we may get at the truth."

But although he was satisfied that his father's signature had been

forged, he could not be absolutely certain that Marshall had been the

forger. He had drawn the bill, it was true, but Jenner might have

counterfeited the signature and have assisted Marshall to get the money.

Then Geoffrey recollected that his father--a particularly precise

man--had been in the habit of keeping a diary in which he was

accustomed to set down the most trivial details of his somewhat

uninteresting life. No sooner had this thought struck him than he went

to a certain press and pulled out the series of little books which

contained these entries. Glancing at the date of the bill, he set to

work, and after an hour's search found the evidence.

The late Mr. Heron had made no attempt to conceal Marshall's rascality;

for it was plainly set down that a certain Mr. Roper had called upon

him to shew a bill of exchange and to ask if the signature were his.

Mr. Heron had replied that he had never signed a bill in his life,

where upon Roper had intimated that the bill had been presented by

Frank Marshall, and that the money had been paid to him. Roper had also

expressed his intention of having Marshall arrested, but to this Mr.

Heron had objected. Bad as he thought the man, he wanted to avoid any

serious trouble, less for Marshall's own sake than for that of Miss

Inez Cass, to whom he was engaged, and who was deeply in love with him.

Roper had left the house with the avowed intention of making things hot

for him, so Mr. Heron had called on Marshall at his house near Hollyoak

and told him what had happened. Then Marshall had confessed that, being

in want of money, he had forged Mr. Heron's name. But he stated that he

was going to pay the money back to Roper very shortly, and he implored

Mr. Heron to take no steps against him; it would break Miss Cass's

heart, he said, and Mr. Heron, pitying Inez, and having a great respect

for her brother, had promised to say no more about it, and had agreed

to refrain from assisting Roper on condition that the five hundred

pounds were repaid. This--as a later entry in the diary-proved--had

been done. After that there was no further mention of the matter.

"Well," Geoffrey said to himself, as he put away the books, "all

this is quite plain. It seems that Mr. Frank Marshall is a pretty

scoundrel! Oh, there is no doubt that this bill is the blackmailing

document referred to by Jenner. Now, I wonder if Marshall murdered him

to get possession of it; but if he did the bill would not have been

concealed in the toy horse. Ah! no doubt Marshall thought it was in the

red pocket-book, and stole that after he had killed him; that was why

the pocket-book disappeared. Probably Marshall himself destroyed it.

Humph! I have gone so far with very good results; now, before I can

proceed further, I must see Mrs. Jenner and Roper. I wonder if that

scoundrel is still alive?"

Next day Geoffrey paid a visit to the gaol where Mrs. Jenner was

serving her life sentence. After some difficulty he was permitted to

see the prisoner; indeed, he might not have procured the interview at

all had he not told the governor that he saw a good chance of proving

the woman innocent. The governor was a humane man, and, anxious that

justice should be done, he stretched a point and allowed Heron to see

her with as much privacy as was compatible with prison discipline.

As soon as they were alone. Heron related all that he had discovered,

and then proceeded to ask his questions. Mrs. Jenner, poor woman,

became much excited, and small wonder, seeing, that for the first time,

she saw a chance of regaining her freedom.

"But, after all, it will be to die, Mr. Heron," she said, sadly. "I am

very ill; trouble, exposure and mental worry have been too much for

me. The doctor saw me two days ago, and has ordered my removal to the

Infirmary." Geoffrey looked at her, and, true enough, there was death

in her face. A few weeks were all of life left to her now. And yet on

hearing Geoffrey's news, the bold spirit flamed up again in her for the

last time.

"I am sure you are right, Mr. Heron!" she said, feverishly. "Mr.

Marshall is the guilty person. He was always a scamp and a rake. There

is no doubt that it was for the purpose of blackmailing him that my

husband came down to Westham on the night he was murdered; in fact, he

said as much to me at the Turnpike House. Do you know that he had met

Marshall on that very night?"

"No; you did not tell me that."

"I forgot; besides, I really did not think it mattered. I did not

expect that Mr. Marshall would be brought into the affair. He was

always cunning enough to look after himself. At that time he was

engaged to marry Miss Cass, and she loved him with the fierceness of a

tigress."

"Do you mean the present Mrs. Marshal?"

"Who else should I mean? She always loved him. He had a strange

fascination for women: why, I don't know, for he was not particularly

good-looking or attractive. But Miss Inez loved him, and it was within

two months of the murder that they were married. I was in prison then,

as I am now, and under sentence of death."

"Then you think that Marshall killed your husband?"

"I do," she said, with a look of hatred in her large blue eyes. "I feel

certain of it. Look at the motive he had! He was engaged to marry Miss

Inez Cass: she was rich and he needed money; then again there was some

talk of his leaving the firm. I believe myself that Mr. Cass was quite

tired of the way he was going on."

"I wonder that Mr. Cass--knowing him as he did--did not forbid the

marriage."

"What would have been the use? His sister was her own mistress; she

had her own money--a large fortune--and she was madly in love with

Marshall. She would have done anything for him; she simply grovelled at

his feet. Her infatuation was the talk of all Westham at the time I was

starving at the Turnpike House.'

"Extraordinary!" mused Geoffrey. "She is so masterful a woman that I

wonder she could have fallen in love with so weak a man."

"It is one of those things in which a woman's nature is stronger than

her principles," said Mrs. Jenner. "Besides, he was fascinating, and

she was no longer a young woman," she added, with a touch of feminine

spite. "At any rate, she was delighted when he fell in love with her,

and determined not to let him go."

"Was he in love with her?"

"No: perhaps I was wrong to put it that way. No doubt he wanted her

money. Did he leave the firm?"

"Yes; shortly after his marriage."

"Ah! Then depend upon it, Mr. Cass got rid of him. He married Miss

Cass for her money--he must have been in great straits when he

committed that forgery. Oh, I quite believe it was he who did it:

he was wonderfully clever at imitating handwriting. I knew of that

accomplishment long before I was married."

"How you hate him!" Geoffrey could not help exclaiming.

"I am a very good hater," she said, quietly; "and I have every reason

to hate that man. It was he who got my husband dismissed, and it was

certainly he who led him into dissipated ways; for Jenner was not a

bad man during the early years of our married life. It was only when

he came under Marshall's influence that he took to drink and began to

treat me cruelly. Oh, I know what I owe him only too well! I should

like to see him arrested for this murder, and hanged--hanged!"

She spoke with such vehemence that Heron shivered. "I hope he will be

proved innocent for all that," he said. "Remember I am engaged to his

niece."

"Miss Ruth is not his niece save by marriage."

"Still, the disgrace----"

"Well, leave the matter alone," said Mrs. Jenner, abruptly. "I have

suffered so much that a little, more or less, does not matter. When I I

am gone, there will be an end of all your trouble. Let Marshall live to

repent, if he can. I am willing to die with the disgrace on me; I can't

well be worse off than I am. And my son will soon forget me----"

"You do him wrong, Mrs. Jenner; he loves you dearly. But, let this

be as it may, what I have to do is to get at the truth of it all. If

Marshall will confess his guilt, I will consult with Mr. Cass and see

what is to be done. I confess, that on Ruth's account, I do not want a

scandal."

"Would you desert her?"

"No, for I love her. And I am too just, I hope, to visit the sins of

other people upon her innocent head."

Mrs. Jenner seemed to be considering; then, "Mr. Heron," she said at

last, "you are a good man. Leave the matter where it stands, and let me

die a guilty woman in the eyes of the world. If I were in good health,

I might speak differently but I am dying. Let me die. I have suffered

so much, that now I could not even enjoy freedom. There is no rest for

me but in the grave. Believe me, it is better to leave things as they

are."

"Well, we'll see about that. But tell me, how did the bill get inside

the toy horse?"

"Ah, that is difficult to explain! The horse belonged to my boy; he was

playing with it before the fire on that evening. I left it there when

I took the child to bed. It is likely enough," she went on, musingly,

"that my husband, knowing he had driven Marshall into a corner, was

afraid he might lose this bill. He may have sewn it up inside the horse

when I was out of the room. He knew very well that I kept all my boy's

toys, and he thought it would be safe there. No one would ever have

dreamt of looking for it in such a hiding-place. It is really most

wonderful, when one comes to think of it, that it has come to light at

all."

"Can you tell me where Jenner met Marshall on that night?"

"No, I cannot. All I know is what he told me--that he had seen him two

hours before he came to see me. He boasted of his blackmailing. That is

all I can tell you."

Geoffrey rose. "Well, you have given me some information, if not very

much," he said. "Now I will go and see Roper to make certain how the

bill came to be stolen."

"My husband stole it when he was with Roper," said Mrs. Jenner. And

with this last piece of information Geoffrey departed to follow up the

clue.

The Turnpike House · 第 17 / 30 章