Transcriber's Notes:
1. Original text provided by Walter Moore for Project
Gutenberg Australia.
https://gutenberg.org.au/ebooks17/1700671h.html
2. Publication date is 1891 per British Museum Catalogue of Printed
Books page 491--https://books.google.com/books?id=_5ghAQAAMAAJ&pg
Monsieur Judas
A Paradox
by
Fergus Hume
London:
Spencer Blackett
[1891]
CONTENTS
Chapter 1. - The Jarlchester Mystery
Chapter 2. - A Curious Coincidence
Chapter 3. - Purely theoretical
Chapter 4. - The Evidence of the Chemist's Assistant
Chapter 5. - Dr. Japix Speaks
Chapter 6. - Monsieur Judas is Confidential
Chapter 7. - An Unwilling Bride
Chapter 8. - Mr. Spolger Tells a Story
Chapter 9. - A Terrible Suspicion
Chapter 10. - The Missing Letters
Chapter 11. - No Smoke Without Fire
Chapter 12. - The Spolger Soother
Chapter 13. - The Craft of Monsieur Judas
Chapter 14. - Who is Guilty?
Chapter 15. - Monsieur Judas at Bay
Chapter 16. - The Man Who Loved Her
Chapter 17. - The Guessing of the Riddle
Chapter 18. - How it was Done
Chapter 19. - Mr. Fanks Finishes the Case
Chapter 1
The Jarlchester Mystery
Not an important place by any means, this sleepy little town lying at
the foot of a low range of undulating hills, beside a slow-flowing
river. A square-towered church of Norman architecture, very ancient
and very grim; one principal narrow street, somewhat crooked in its
course; other streets, narrower and more crooked, leading off on the
one side to the sheltering hills, and on the other down to the muddy
stream. Market-place octagonal in shape, with a dilapidated stone
cross of the Plantagenet period in the centre; squat stone bridge,
with massive piers, across the sullen gray waters; on the farther
shore a few red-roofed farmhouses; beyond, fertile pastoral lands and
the dim outline of distant hills.
Picturesque in a quiet fashion certainly, but not striking in any way;
a haven of rest for worn-out people weary of worldly troubles, but
dull--intensely dull--for visionary youth longing for fame. The world
beyond did not know Jarlchester, and Jarlchester did not know the
world beyond, so accounts were thus equally balanced between them.
Being near Winchester, the ancient capital of Saxon England, it was
asserted by archaeologists that Jarlchester, sleepy and dull as it was
in the nineteenth century, had once been an important place. Jarl
means Earl, and Chester signifies a camp; so those wiseacres asserted
that the name Jarlchester meant the Camp of the Earl; from which
supposition arose a fable that Jarl Godwin had once made the little
town his head-quarters when in revolt against pious Edward who built
St. Peter's of Westminster. As Godwin, however, according to history,
never revolted against the King, and generally resided in London, the
authenticity of the story must be regarded as doubtful. Nevertheless,
Jarlchester folks firmly believed in it, and sturdily held to their
belief against all evidence to the contrary, however clearly set
forth.
They were a sleepy lot as a rule, those early-to-bed and early-to-rise
country folk; for nothing had occurred for years to disturb their
sluggish minds, so they had gradually sunk into a state of somnolent
indifference, with few ideas beyond the weather and the crops.
Then Jarlchester, unimportant since Anglo-Saxon times, suddenly became
famous throughout England on account of "The Mystery," and the mystery
was "A Murder."
On this moist November morning, when the whole earth shivered under a
bleak gray sky, a crowd, excited in a dull, bovine way, was assembled
in front of the "Hungry Man Inn," for in the commercial-room thereof,
now invested with a ghastly interest, an inquest was being held on the
body of a late guest of the inn, and the bucolic crowd was curious to
know the verdict.
A long, low-ceilinged apartment this commercial-room, with a narrow
deal table covered with a glaring red cloth down the centre; four tall
windows looking out on to the crowd, who, with faces flattened against
the glass, peered into the room. A jury of lawful men and true, much
impressed with a sense of their importance, seated at the narrow
table; at the top thereof, the coroner, Mr. Carr, bluff, rosy-faced,
and eminently respectable. Near him a slender young man, keen-eyed and
watchful, taking notes (reported by the crowd outside to be a London
detective); witnesses seated here, there, and everywhere among eager
spectators; but the body! oh, where was the body, which was the
culminating point of interest in the whole gruesome affair? The crowd
outside was visibly disappointed to learn that the body was lying
upstairs in a darkened room, and the jury, half eager, half fearful,
having inspected it according to precedent, were now assembled to hear
all procurable evidence as to the mode in which the living man of two
days ago became the body upstairs.
_First Witness_.--Boots. Short, grimy, bashful; pulls forelock
stolidly, shuffles with his feet, is doubtful as to aspirates, and
speaks hoarsely, either from cold--it is raining--or from nervousness
either of the jury or of the body; perhaps both.
"Name? Jim Bulkins, sir. Bin boots at ''Ungry Man' fur two year'n more
come larst Easter. Two days back, gen'man--him upstair--come 'ere t'
stay. Come wi' couach fro' Winchester. Ony a bag--leather bag--very
light. Carried 't upstair fur gen'man, who 'ad thir'-seven. Gen'man
come 'bout five. 'Ad dinner, then wrote letter. Posted letter hisself.
Show'd 'im post orfice. Guv me sixpence; guv me t'other fur carr'in'
up bag. Seemed cheerful. Went t' bed 'bout nine. Nex' mornin' I went
upstair with butts. Gen'man arsked fur butts t' be givin pusonally t'
'im 'cause 'e were perticler 'bout polish. Knocked at door; n' anser.
Knocked agin; n' anser. Thought gen'man 'sleep, so pushed door to put
butts inside; door were open."
_Coroner_.--"What do you mean by the door being open?"
_Witness_.--"Weren't locked, sir; closed t' a bit--what you might call
ajar, sir. Entered room, put down butts; gen'man were lyin' quiet in
bed. Thought 'e were sleepin' an' come downstair. This were 'bout
nine. At ten went up agin. Knocked; n' anser. Knocked agin; n' anser.
Went into room agin; gen'man still sleepin'. Went to wake 'im an'
found 'e were ded. Sung out at onct, an' Mr. Chickles 'e come up."
_Juryman_ (sharp-nosed and inquisitive).--"How was he lying when you
saw him first?"
_Witness_.--"Bedclose up t' chin, sir. 'Ands and h'arms inside
bedclose; lyin' on back--bedclose smooth like. Know'd 'e were ded by
whiteness of 'is face--like chalk, sir--h'awful!"
_Coroner_.--"Are you sure deceased asked you to give him his boots
personally next morning?"
_Witness_.--"Yes, sir--said 'e were vury perticler."
_Coroner_.--"Did he seem to you like a man intending to make away with
himself?"
_Witness_.--"No, sir. Quite lively like. Sed as 'ow 'e were goin' to
look roun' this 'ole nex' day, sir."
_Coroner_ (pompously).--"And what did the deceased mean by the
expression 'this hole,' my man?"
_Witness_ (grinning).--"Jarlchester, sir."
Great indignation on the part of the patriotic jury at hearing their
native town thus described, and as Boots is still grinning, thinking
such remark to be an excellent joke, he is told sharply to stand down,
which he does with obvious relief.
The next witness called was Sampson Chickles, the landlord of the
"Hungry Man." A fat, portly individual is Mr. Chickles, with a round
red face, and a ponderous consciousness that he is the hero of the
hour--or rather the minute. "Swear Sampson Chickles!" Which is done by
a fussy clerk with a rapid gabble and a dingy Bible--open at
Revelations--and Mr. Chickles, being sworn to tell the truth and
nothing but the truth, gives his evidence in a fat voice coming
somewhere from the recesses of his rotund stomach.
"My name, gentlemen, is Sampson Chickles, and I've lived in
Jarlchester, man and boy, sixty years. But I keep my health wonderful,
gentlemen, saving a touch of the--"
_Coroner_.--"Will the witness kindly confine himself to the matter in
hand?"
_Witness_ (somewhat ruffled).--"Meaning the dead one, I presume, Mr.
Carr. Certainly, Mr. Carr; I was coming to that. He--meaning the dead
one--came here two days ago by the coach from Winchester. There is,
gentlemen, no name on his bag--there is no name on his linen--no
letters, no cards in his pockets--not even initials, gentlemen, to
prevent his clothes being stolen at the wash. He never mentioned his
name, Mr. Carr. I was going to ask him next morning, but he was dead,
and therefore, gentlemen, not in a position to speak. As far as I am
concerned, Mr. Carr, the dead one has never been christened. The
mystery--meaning the dead one--has no name that I ever heard of, and
was spoken of by me and my daughter (who may know more than her
father) as the gentleman in No. 37. I only spoke to the dead
one twice, Mr. Carr and gentlemen; once when I arranged about
terms--thirty shillings a week, gentlemen, not including wine--and
again when I asked him if he had enjoyed his dinner--soup, fish, fowl,
and pudding. Gentlemen, he had enjoyed his dinner."
_A Juryman_ (hungry-looking, evidently thinking of the dinner).--"Was
he cheerful, Mr. Chickles?"
_Witness_.--"Jocund, sir, if I may use the term. Merry as a lark."
Facetious juryman suggests wine.
_Witness_ (with mournful dignity).--"No, sir! Pardon me, Mr. Specks,
he had no wine while he was in this house. His explanation was a
simple one, gentlemen--wine did not agree with his pills--tonic pills,
Mr. Carr--one to be taken before bedtime every night."
_Coroner_ (with the air of having found something).--"Pills, eh? Did
he look ill?"
_Witness_.--"Not exactly ill, Mr. Carr; not exactly well, gentlemen.
Betwixt and between. Weak, sir. His legs shook, his hands trembled,
and when a door banged he jumped, gentlemen--jumped!"
_A Juryman_.--"Then I presume he was taking tonic pills for his
constitution?"
_Witness_.--"Well, yes, Mr. Polder, yes, sir. There is the box of
pills--tonic pills, as he--meaning the dead one--told me. Found in his
room, gentlemen--on the chest of drawers--after his death."
Inspection of pills by jury. Great curiosity evinced when pills (eight
in number) appeared to be like any other pills. The London detective,
however, secured the pill-box after inspection, and sat with it in his
hand thinking deeply.
Mr. Chickles, having given all his evidence, retired, with the full
consciousness that he had given it in a masterly fashion; and his
daughter, Miss Molly Chickles, plump, pretty, and a trifle coquettish,
was duly sworn. At first she was rather bashful, but having found her
tongue--a task of little difficulty for this rustic daughter of
Eve--told all she knew with many sidelong glances and confused
blushes--feminine arts not quite thrown away on the jury, although
they were to a man married and done for.
Said Molly, in answer to the Coroner:
"My name is Mary Chickles. Father calls me Molly. I am the daughter of
Sampson Chickles, and barmaid here. I knew the deceased, but he did
not tell me his name. He arrived here two days ago--on Tuesday, at
five, by the coach. He came into the bar, and asked me if he could put
up here for a week. I told him he could, and called father, who
arranged about the terms. He then went up to his bedroom and came down
to dinner at six. After dinner he went into the parlour, and I think
wrote a letter. After doing so he asked me where the post office was.
I sent him with Boots, and heard afterwards that he posted his letter.
On his return he sat down in the bar for a few minutes. There was no
one there at the time. He seemed to me to be very weak, and told me
his nerves were shattered. I asked him if he had consulted a doctor.
He replied that he had done so, and was taking tonic pills every night
before he went to bed. I said that I hoped he took them regular, as it
was no use unless he did so. He assured me that he always took one
pill every night without fail. He mentioned that he was going to stay
for a time in Jarlchester, and hoped the quiet would do him good."
_Coroner_.--"Did he say he was down here for his health?"
_Witness_.--"Not exactly, sir; but he talked a good deal about his
nerves, and such like. He said he was going to stay a week or so, and
expected a friend to join him shortly."
_Coroner_.--"Oh! a friend, eh! Man or woman?"
_Witness_.--"He did not say, sir."
_A Juryman_.--"When did he expect this friend?"
_Witness_.--"He said in a few days, but did not mention any special
time. After a short conversation he went to bed at nine o'clock, and
next morning father told me he was dead."
_Coroner_.--"Did he appear gloomy or low-spirited?"
_Witness_.--"Oh, dear no, sir. A very pleasant-spoken gentleman. He
said his nerves were bad, but I was quite astonished at his
cheerfulness."
_Coroner_.--"Did he say anything about the next day?"
_Witness_.--"Yes, sir. He asked if there was anything to be seen in
Jarlchester, and when I told him about the church, he said he would
look it up next day."
_A Juryman_.--"Do you think he had any intention of destroying
himself?"
_Witness_.--"Not so far as I saw, sir."
_Coroner_.--"He did not mention anything about the letter?"
_Witness_.--"Not a word, sir."
_A Juryman_ (facetiously).--"Did you think him good-looking, Miss
Molly?"
_Witness_ (tossing her head).--"Well, not what I call handsome, sir;
but there's no knowing what other girls think."
With this parting shot, Miss Chickles retired to her usual place in
the bar, and gossiped to outsiders about the present aspect of the
case, while Sergeant Spills, the head of the Jarlchester police force,
came forward to give his evidence. A crisp, dry-looking man, the
Sergeant, with a crisp, dry manner, and a sharp ring in the tones of
his voice; economical in his words, decisive in his speech.
"Charles Spills, sir, sergeant of the police in Jarlchester. Jim
Bulkins reported death of deceased. Came here, saw body lying in bed.
Clothes drawn up to chin. In my opinion, deceased died in his sleep.
Examined bag of deceased. Contained linen (not marked), suit of
clothes (not marked), toilet utensils of the usual kind. Drawing block
and some lead pencils (much used)."
_Coroner_ (prompted by London detective).--"Were there any drawings?"
_Witness_.--"No, sir."
_Coroner_.--"No sketches or faces on the block?"
_Witness_.--"No, sir! Clothes worn by deceased--dark blue serge suit,
double-breasted."
_Coroner_.--"Any name on the clothes?"
_Witness_.--"No, sir! Tag used to hang up coat, on which tailor's
name generally placed, torn off. Searched pockets; found penknife,
loose silver (twelve shillings and sixpence), and box of pills laid
before the jury. Silver watch on dressing-table--silver chain
attached--silver sovereign purse containing six sovereigns. Nothing
else."
_Coroner_.--"Nothing likely to lead to the name of deceased?"
_Witness_.--"Absolutely nothing, sir. Searched, but found no name.
Inquired--discovered no name. Case puzzled me, so wired to London for
detective--Mr. Fanks--now sitting on your left."
Sergeant Spills having thus discharged his duty, saluted in a wooden
fashion, and substituting Joe Staggers, coachman, for himself, took up
a rigid attitude beside him, like a toy figure in a Noah's ark.
Evidence of Joe Staggers. Horsey gentleman, large, red, and fat;
smothered voice, suggestive of drink; a god on the box-seat behind
four horses, but a mere mortal given to drink when on the ground.
"Joseph Staggers, sur. 'Ees, sur! Druv the coaach fro Winchester t'
Jarlchest'r these ten year an' more. Two days ago--it were Toosd'y,
cos t' bay 'oss cast a shoe--I were waitin' at station, an'
gen'man--the corpus--come up t' me, an' ses 'e, 'Jarlchest'r?'
inquiring like. ''Ees, sur,' ses I, an' up 'e gits an' off we goes. 'E
sat aside me an' talked of plaace. 'Ees, sur. Ses 'e: 'This are foine
arter Lunnon."
_Coroner_.--"Oh, did he say he had come from London?"
_Witness_ (doggedly).--"'E ses what I sed afore, sur. Talked foine,
sur; but didn't knaw a 'oss fro' a cow."
Mr. Staggers' evidence unanimously pronounced by jury to be worse than
useless, an opinion not shared by Mr. Fanks (of London, detective),
who scratched down something in a secretive little book with a vicious
little pencil.
_Coroner_.--"Call Dr. Drewey."
A most important witness, Dr. Drewey, he having made a post-mortem
examination of the body, and the jury, hitherto somewhat languid, now
wake up, Mr. Fanks turns over a new page in his secretive little book,
and Dr. Drewey, bland, gentlemanlike, in a suit of sober black, and
gravely smiling (professional smile), gives his opinion of things with
great unction.
"I have examined the body of the deceased. It is that of a man of
about eight-and-twenty years of age. Very badly nourished, and with
comparatively little food in the stomach. The stomach itself was
healthy, but I found the vessels of the head unusually turgid
throughout. There was also great fluidity of the blood, and serous
effusion in the ventricles. The pupils of the eyes were much
contracted. Judging from these appearances, and from the turgescence
of the vessels of the brain, I have no hesitation in declaring that
the deceased died from an overdose of morphia or of opium."
_Coroner_.--"Then you think the deceased took an overdose of poison?"
_Witness_ (with bland reproof).--"I say he died from an overdose, but
I am not prepared to say that he took it himself."
_A Juryman_.--"Then some one administered the dose?"
_Witness_.--"I can't say anything about that."
_A Juryman_.--"When do you think the deceased died?"
_Witness_.--"That is a very difficult question to answer. In most
cases of poisoning by opium, death takes place within from six to
twelve hours. I examined the body of the deceased between one and two
o'clock the next day, and from all appearances he had been dead ten
hours. According to the evidence of Miss Chickles, he went to bed at
nine o'clock, so if he took the dose of opium then--as was most
likely--he must have died about four o'clock in the morning."
_Coroner_.--"During his sleep?"
_Witness_.--"Presumably so, opium being a narcotic."
_Coroner_ (prompted by London detective).--"Did his stomach look like
that of an habitual opium-eater?"
_Witness_.--"No, not at all."
_Coroner_.--"According to you, the deceased must have taken the poison
at nine o'clock when he went to bed, and on looking at the evidence of
Miss Chickles, I see that the deceased stated that he took his tonic
pill regularly before he went to bed. Now did it strike you that he
might have taken two pills by mistake, which would account for his
death?"
_Witness_ (hesitating).--"I acknowledge that such an explanation
certainly did occur to me, and I analysed three pills selected at
random from the box. When I did so, I found it was impossible such
pills could have caused his death."
_Coroner_ (obviously bewildered).--"Why so?"
_Witness_.--"Because these tonic pills contain arsenic. There is not a
grain of morphia to be found in them. If the deceased had died from an
overdose of these pills, I would have found traces of arsenic in his
stomach; but as he died from the effects of morphia or opium--I am not
prepared to say which--these tonic pills have nothing to do with his
death."
This decisive statement considerably puzzled the jury. The deceased
died of an overdose of morphia, the pills contained nothing but
arsenic; so it being clearly proved that the pills had nothing to do
with the death, the deceased must have obtained morphia or opium in
some other fashion. Sergeant Spills was recalled on the chance that
the deceased might have purchased poison from the Jarlchester chemist.
In his evidence, however, Sergeant Spills stated that he had, by
direction of Dr. Drewey, inquired into the matter, and had been
assured by the chemist that the deceased had never been near the shop.
The room had been thoroughly searched, and no drugs nor medicine of
any kind had been discovered except the box of tonic pills now before
the jury. There was absolutely nothing to show how the deceased had
come by his death, that is, he had died of an overdose of morphia, but
how the morphia had come into his possession was undiscoverable, so
the jury were quite bewildered.
All obtainable evidence having been taken, the Coroner gave his
opinion thereon in a neat speech, but a speech which showed how
undecided he was in his own mind as to the real facts of this peculiar
case.
"I think, gentlemen, that you will agree with me in acknowledging this
affair to be a remarkably mysterious one. The deceased comes down here
from London (as proved by the evidence of Joseph Staggers) for a few
days' rest (evidence of Miss Chickles). He gives no name, and has
neither name nor initials marked on his linen, his bag, or his
clothes. Not even a letter or a card to throw light on his identity.
Entirely unknown, he enters the doors of this inn; entirely
unknown, he dies the next morning, carrying the secret of his name
and his position into the next world. From all accounts (testified
by the evidence of several witnesses), he was quite cheerful, and
evidently--I cannot be sure--but evidently had no idea of committing
suicide. Looking at the question broadly, gentlemen, the idea of
suicide would no doubt have to be abandoned; but looking at the case
from my point of view, the whole affair is peculiarly suggestive of
self-destruction. This gentleman, now deceased, comes down here, he is
careful to give no address, which showed that he wished his friends to
remain ignorant of his death. He is very cheerful, and talks about
exploring the neighbourhood next day--a mere blind, gentlemen of the
jury, as I firmly believe. After writing a letter--doubtless one of
farewell to some friend--he retires quietly to bed, and is found dead
next morning. The post-mortem examination, undertaken by Dr. Drewey,
shows that he died from the effects of an overdose of morphia or
opium. Now, gentlemen, he must have taken the morphia or opium
himself. No one else could have administered it, as he was not known
in Jarlchester, having been here only a few hours when his death
occurred, so no one had any reason to give him poison. Regarding the
pills now before us, they have been analysed by Dr. Drewey, and are
found to contain only arsenic, so we may dismiss the pills altogether.
He died of morphia and must have taken it himself, as, had it been
administered violently by another person, the sounds of a struggle
would have been heard. No sounds were heard, however, so this proves
to my mind that he killed himself wilfully. No traces of any drugs
(saving the pills alluded to) were found in his room; as proved by
Sergeant Spills, he bought no drugs from our local chemist, so only
one presumption remains. The deceased must have brought here from
London a sufficient quantity of morphia to kill him--took it all,
and died leaving no trace of the drug behind. Unknown, unnamed,
unfriended, the deceased came to this town, and no one but himself
could have administered the poison of which he died. You, gentlemen,
as well as myself, have heard the evidence of the intelligent
witnesses, and will, therefore, give your verdict in accordance with
their evidence; but from what has been stated, and from the whole
peculiar circumstances of the case, I firmly believe--in my own mind,
gentlemen--that the deceased died by his own hand."
Thus far the sapient Coroner, who delivered this address with a solemn
air, much to the satisfaction of the jury, who were dull-minded men,
quite prepared to be guided by a master-spirit such as they regarded
the Coroner.
During the speech, indeed, a scornful smile might have been seen on
the thin lips of Mr. Fanks; but no one noticed it, so intent were they
on the words of wisdom which fell from the lips of Mr. Coroner Carr.
Under the inspiration, therefore, of the Coroner, the twelve lawful
men and true brought in a verdict quite in accordance with their own
and the Coroner's ideas on the subject:
"That the deceased (name unknown) died on the morning of the 13th of
November, through an overdose of morphia taken by himself during a
temporary fit of insanity."
Having thus relieved their minds to their own satisfaction, this
assemblage of worthies--asinine for the most part--went their several
ways quite convinced that they had solved the Jarlchester Mystery.
"The fools," said Mr. Fanks, scornfully, slipping the pill-box, which
had been left on the table, into his pocket. "They think they've got
to the bottom of this affair. Why, they don't know what they're
talking about."
"You don't think it's suicide?" asked Sergeant Spills, crisply, rather
nettled at the poor opinion Mr. Fanks entertained of the Jarlchester
brains.
"No, I don't," retorted the detective, coolly; "but I think it's a
murder, and an uncommonly clever murder, too."
"But your reasons?" demanded Spills, with wooden severity.
"Ah, my reasons," replied Mr. Fanks, reflectively. "Well, yes! I've
got my reasons, but they wouldn't be intelligible to you."
Extracts From a Detective's Note-Book
"A curious case, this Jarlchester Mystery--I must confess myself
puzzled . . . From Drewey's evidence deceased died of morphia
. . . Pills only contain arsenic . . . can't be any connection
between the death and those pills . . . Can't find out where deceased
purchased morphia . . . Perhaps Coroner right, and he brought it from
London . . . Examined clothes of deceased . . . well made . . .
fashionable . . . shabby . . . Qy., seedy swell? . . . such a one
might commit suicide . . . Doubtful as to nerve . . .
". . . Don't understand that open door . . . ajar . . . nervous man
wouldn't sleep with door ajar . . . absurd . . . Qy., could any one
have entered room during night? . . . Impossible, as deceased a
stranger here . . .
"_Mem_.--To find out if any one slept in adjacent rooms.
". . . Examine pill-box . . . sudden idea about same . . . Fancy I'll
be able to find name of deceased ... if so look for motive of murder
. . . questionable, very! if idea will lead to anything . . . still
I'll try . . . This case piques my curiosity . . . Is it murder or
suicide? . . . I must discover which . . ."