PLOTS AND COUNTERPLOTS
On hearing from Tolomeo that Beryl was the guilty person, Durham was not
so surprised as he might have been. He had always suspected that Julius
was in some way connected with the crime, although he had not thought
him personally guilty. But the story of Guiseppe, and the production of
the handkerchief marked with Beryl's name seemed to put the matter
beyond doubt. Durham remembered how Conniston had always said that when
the lost handkerchief was found the assassin would be identified.
Apparently his prophecy had come true. Here was the handkerchief, so
fortunately picked up by Tolomeo, and it belonged to Julius. Also
Julius, according to the Italian, had entered the house in Crimea Square
about the time the murder was supposed to have been committed.
"And there's no doubt that Beryl sent Jerry for Bernard, so that he
might be brought to the spot for accusation," thought the lawyer when
Tolomeo had gone. "The whole thing was a plant. I expect he arranged to
go to the Curtain Theatre so as to have an _alibi_. But the theatre is
near Crimea Square and it would be easy for Beryl to slip round between
the acts. Humph! Evidently he did kill the old man--this handkerchief is
proof enough, to say nothing of Tolomeo's evidence. What's to be done
next?"
The question was answered next day while Durham was still puzzling over
the matter. Julius himself made his appearance, as meek-looking and mild
as ever. The lawyer received him coldly and was on his guard. It was
difficult to know why Beryl should pay a visit to an avowed enemy. But
Julius soon explained the reason for his call.
"I have something extremely private to say to you, Mr. Durham," he
remarked in a confidential way, and after assuring himself
ostentatiously that the door was closed.
"I am not your legal adviser," said Durham, quickly.
"You are Bernard's."
"I _was_ Bernard's, you mean."
"Does that intimate that you have quarrelled with Bernard?"
"You forget," said the solicitor, looking at him sharply. "Bernard is
supposed to be dead."
"I don't think you ever believed that," said Beryl, smiling.
"That has nothing to do with you."
"Oh yes, it has. See here, Durham, I wrote to Miss Malleson some time
ago, stating that I had seen Bernard in London."
"So I understand," said Durham, calmly. "Why did you not stop him?"
"I was not quick enough. He walked on the other side of the street, and
before I could cross over, which was difficult on account of the
traffic, Bernard disappeared. Then I was not quite sure if he really was
alive. Now I am."
"Indeed?" said Durham, with a qualm, for he fancied Julius might have
learned of Gore's whereabouts.
"Yes! That young Moon wrote a letter to me saying that Bernard had come
to the Bower, starving and in rags."
It was on the tip of Durham's tongue to say that no doubt Jerry had been
placed as a spy at the Bower, but he suppressed this remark. He firmly
believed that Julius was a murderer, but as yet he saw some difficulty
in bringing the crime home to him. He thought it would be best to give
the man rope enough to hang himself. In other words, to listen quietly
to what he had to say and act accordingly. Durham did not like having
anything to do with such a scoundrel, but in the interests of Gore he
had to smother all feelings save strictly professional ones. He
therefore confined himself to silence, and to looking inquiringly at
Beryl.
"You don't seem surprised," said Julius, annoyed.
"Because I can hardy believe your statement. Jerry may be making a
mistake."
"Oh no. I went down on the receipt of his letter, and insisted on seeing
my cousin. Miss Plantagenet--as I knew she would,--denied that he was
there; but afterwards, when I threatened to bring the police on to the
scene, she gave way and let me see Bernard."
"You are sure, then, that Bernard committed the crime?"
"Wait one moment, Mr. Durham," said Beryl, wagging his finger in a most
irritating way. "Let us understand one another clearly. You know, and
you have known for some time, that Bernard was at the Bower?"
"I am not bound to answer that question," said the lawyer, stiffly.
"Bernard answered it for you. He told me you had been to see him, and
that in spite of the change in his looks you knew who he was."
Durham drew figures on his blotting-paper. He wondered if Julius really
believed the man at the Bower to be Bernard Gore, or if he was trying to
learn what he--Durham--thought himself. After some reflection the lawyer
resolved to accept Michael as the man in question. Julius could not
possibly know that the real Bernard was alive, and therefore it would be
as wise to keep the knowledge from him until such time as light would
come to show Durham how to move. "Yes," he said at length, throwing down
his pen and taking up a position on the hearth-rug. "I was informed by
Miss Plantagenet that Bernard had sought refuge with her, and I went
down to see him."
"Why did you not tell me?" asked Julius, sharply.
Durham shrugged his shoulders. "By your own showing, seeing you wished
to call in the police, you are not a friend to Bernard," he said. "Why
should I have summoned you? To assist you to arrest him?"
"I do not wish him to be arrested," said Julius, mildly. "On the
contrary, I wish the poor fellow to die in peace."
"To die--what do you mean?"
"What I say, Mr. Durham. Payne tells me that Bernard has been so
exhausted by his wandering when in hiding, that he cannot recover. His
death is only a question of days. Mind you"--Julius wagged his finger
again--"I really believe he killed Sir Simon, but as he is dying, why, I
shall do nothing. I am not a vindictive man. Besides," added Julius,
looking sideways at the lawyer, "Bernard and I are friends now. I am
also friendly with Miss Malleson."
"Indeed! And how did you bring that about?"
"By acting straightforward and honorably, as I always do," said the meek
Julius. "Miss Malleson acknowledged to me that Bernard was sadly changed
by the hardships he had undergone. All the same she recognized him.
Unfortunately, the poor fellow is too feeble to tell her of the perils
he underwent, so she has not had an opportunity of talking much to him."
It struck Durham from this speech that Julius was doubtful of the
identity of Bernard with the man at the Bower. Else why should he make
this remark about Alice not having had time to question the sick man,
seeing that Alice alone could prove if he were Bernard or not? Durham
was perplexed, and wondered what Julius was driving at, and how much he
knew. A clue came with the next words.
"And being friends with Bernard," went on Beryl, "he is sorry that we
quarrelled. Feeling that he is not long for this world he wants to make
his will in my favor."
Durham nearly uttered an exclamation, for all of a sudden the whole
rascally business became clear. Julius knew that the man at the Bower
was Michael, and he was prepared to extract from him a forged will, in
the hope that the real Bernard was dead. Having made use of Michael to
bring about the accusation of Gore, he now used him to the very last to
get the money. However, Durham kept his temper under, and pretended to
believe that Julius was speaking in all good faith. He simply bowed his
head. Every word that Julius said was weaving a rope for his own neck.
"Are you surprised then at my calling?" said Julius, anxiously.
"No," said Durham, returning to his seat. "If Gore wishes to make a
will, I suppose I am the man to draw it up. I must go down and receive
his instructions."
"I have them with me," said Julius, bringing out a sealed letter.
Durham, inwardly boiling at this rascality, but outwardly calm, opened
the letter, while Julius kept a sharp look-out on him. He found a long
letter, written in the same style as Bernard Gore usually wrote, setting
forth directions for the will. These included an income of five hundred
a year to Alice Malleson, and the extra allowance of four hundred to
Mrs. Gilroy, making her income five hundred in all. The rest of the
estate, real and personal, went to Julius Beryl. Durham smiled inwardly
as he read this document. It was exactly the kind of will Julius wanted.
Michael was simply his instrument, and Durham shrewdly suspected that
from some knowledge of the forged check Beryl had obtained this
extraordinary influence.
"Well, it seems clear enough," said the lawyer, laying down the letter,
"but I think Miss Malleson, seeing what she loses, should have more."
"I think she has quite enough," said Julius, tartly.
"Then Mrs. Gilroy," said Durham, pretending ignorance. "Why should
Bernard leave her this extra money?"
"I can't say. Bernard will probably tell you himself. Will you please
draw out the will, Mr. Durham, and bring it down to the Bower for Gore
to sign?"
For the sake of appearances Durham went on making objections. All these
were met by Julius with infernal cleverness, until the lawyer--on the
face of it--had not a leg to stand on, as the saying goes. Finally he
consented to draw up the will as instructed by the letter, and agreed to
meet Julius next day at Liverpool Street Station to go down with him to
the Hall. Julius drew a long breath of relief when the lawyer so agreed,
and apparently had no idea that he was being tricked all the time.
"I am much obliged to you, Mr. Durham," said he, holding out his hand,
"and when I come into possession of the estate you will find me a good
client."
Durham, for the sake of keeping up the deception, had to shake hands,
although he loathed himself for doing so. When the door closed on the
arch plotter the solicitor went at once to wash his hands.
"What a complete scoundrel!" said Durham to himself. "And how
confoundedly clever. Of course, if the real Bernard were dead this will
might stand. At all events, even if Miss Malleson could prove that
Michael is not her lover, the new will might lead to litigation.
However, as Bernard is alive and well we can produce him at the eleventh
hour to frighten Beryl. I am afraid that young man will be hanged after
all, though I am unwilling, for the sake of the family, that things
should come to that pass."
However, Durham, true to his appointment, arrived at the station the
next day and had the will in his pocket. Julius read it in the train
going down and expressed his approval of it. It was now Durham's cue to
behave politely to Julius, and as though he truly believed in him and in
the false Bernard Gore. But on the previous night he had written a long
letter to Miss Berengaria, which was to be read to Alice. In it Durham
told the whole of Beryl's scheme to get possession of the property. But
for obvious reasons he said nothing of Tolomeo's story or Beryl's real
guilt. He thought, very truly, that even Miss Berengaria's nerves could
not stand being brought into such close relationship with a proven
murderer, let alone that Alice might reveal the truth out of sheer
disgust. But the letter prepared the minds of both ladies for the
execution of the will.
On arriving at the Bower the two men were met by Jerry, looking more
innocent and child-like than ever. "Please, missus says will you go into
the drawing-room?" said the infant, casting down his eyes.
Durham looked hard at the young scoundrel who was such a worthy
instrument of Beryl's. He would have liked to examine him then and there
touching his luring of Bernard to Crimea Square, but the present moment
was not propitious, so he passed on. Julius, however, in a most
benevolent way spoke to the boy--"I hope you are giving your good
mistress satisfaction?"
"Oh yes, sir. But she was angry at me writing and telling you about the
poor sick gentleman."
"By the way, Jerry, how did you find out about him?" asked Durham.
"I saw him arrive," said Jerry, ingenuously. "I was in the garden when
he came. I wouldn't have written, sir, if I had known that my dear
missus wanted it kept dark. But Mr. Beryl was so anxious about Sir
Bernard that I thought he would be glad to know he was alive."
"How did you know this gentleman was Sir Bernard?"
"I heard James the coachman describe him, and then I knew."
"All the same, Jerry," said Julius, benevolently, "if Miss Berengaria
wished the fact of Sir Bernard's being here kept quiet, you should not
have disclosed it even to me."
"But I wished to set your mind at rest," murmured Jerry, looking up with
dove-like eyes. "I owe you so much, sir."
Julius smiled and patting his head, walked on to the drawing-room. It
was a very pretty comedy, but Durham was not to be taken in. He knew
well enough that the boy was a mere tool and a dangerous one. As a
matter of fact, he did not know until later how dangerous the lad really
could be.
Miss Berengaria and Alice were in the drawing-room, and both smiled a
welcome when the two men entered. Alice darted a look of terror and
repulsion at Beryl, but as he was shaking hands with the old lady he did
not see it, else he might have suspected. Durham guessed this and
touched her hand. She nodded, and when Julius shook hands with her she
welcomed him again with a smile, although her very flesh crept when she
touched him. As for Miss Berengaria, that indomitable old lady never
turned a hair. She smiled and chatted, and was bland to Julius. He might
have been her dearest friend from the amount of attention she bestowed
on him.
"So poor Bernard is going to make his will," she said briskly. "I hope
he has left Alice something."
"Five hundred a year, and the like amount to Mrs. Gilroy."
"Indeed, Mr. Durham; and why to Mrs. Gilroy?"
"Bernard looks upon her as a second mother," said Julius, hastily; "at
least he told me so. Of course, I know nothing about her. I hope,
however, she will reappear to claim her legacy."
"There may be no chance for anyone to claim legacies for a long time,"
said Miss Berengaria, tartly. "I hope Bernard will not die."
"I hope so also," said Alice, fervently; and she really meant it, even
though she was thinking of the young scamp upstairs.
Julius shook his head. "Dr. Payne assures me he cannot live. I am glad
he has decided to make this will."
"Yes, you would be," said Miss Berengaria ironically, and she might have
been rash enough to say more, but that Durham intervened.
"I hope none of the servants know that Bernard is here?"
"They all know by this time," said Miss Berengaria, calmly. "We kept the
matter from them as long as possible; and with Alice I waited on Bernard
myself. But Jerry told the servants as well as Mr. Beryl."
"Will the knowledge go any further?" said the lawyer, keeping up the
comedy. "I don't want Bernard arrested."
"My servants will not speak under pain of dismissal, if that is what you
mean," said Miss Plantagenet, sharply. "As to Jerry----"
"He is one of your servants also," said Beryl, softly; "but I have some
influence over Jerry, and I will see that he holds his tongue."
"You can take him away altogether," snapped Miss Berengaria. "I don't
approve of having boys with long tongues in my house. Jerry had no right
to be hanging round the garden when Bernard arrived, much less to write
and tell you that he was here."
"He thought I was anxious."
"I daresay you are," said the old dame, "to see Bernard hanged."
"Indeed, no," replied Julius, earnestly. "I wish him to die in peace."
"Having got all you can out of him," muttered Miss Berengaria, rubbing
her nose. "Well," she added sharply, "are we to go upstairs and witness
this will?"
"Yes! Mr. Beryl can't witness as he is the residuary legatee. Nor can
Miss Alice, since she is mentioned in the will. But you, Miss
Plantagenet, and----"
"And yourself?"
"No. I am the executor."
"Then Maria can witness the will. She is my own maid and can be depended
upon. Are you coming, Julius?"
"Thank you, no," said Beryl, with a gentle smile. "I think as I have
such a large interest in the will that it is better I should remain
away. I shall stay here. And you, Miss Malleson?"
"I shall stop also," said Alice in reply to a look from Durham. "You go
up with Mr. Durham, aunt."
"Come along then," said Miss Berengaria, hastening out of the room; "the
sooner this is over the better. Ugh! I hate wills. They put me in mind
of the family vault, and I can't last long now."
The lawyer followed, and Miss Berengaria led him up a narrow stair which
conducted to the turret-room in which the false Bernard was lying. At
the foot of this stair she stopped. "Durham," she said abruptly, "do you
mean to let this man execute this false will?"
"Yes. I wish Julius Beryl to commit himself beyond recall."
"What will you do then?"
"I can't say. One thing at a time. When the will is executed we will
watch Beryl's attitude. Something will happen," added Durham, thinking
of the incriminating handkerchief in his possession.
"Yes," said Miss Berengaria, climbing the stairs with a briskness
surprising in a woman of her years, "something will happen. This poor
foresworn wretch upstairs will die."
"But I thought you said----"
"I know I did. I could help him back to life with careful nursing, and I
wish to do so, since I think there is good in the rascal. But Beryl,
having had the will made, will--kill him. Yes," added she, nodding,
"there will be a repetition of the crime. I believe Beryl himself killed
Simon--the old--no, he is dead. Let us be just."
"What makes you think Julius Beryl killed Sir Simon?"
"Nothing," snapped Miss Berengaria; "he looks like a murderer." Durham
smiled to himself as he went up the stairs and wondered at her acuteness
in thus hitting the nail on the head. When the will was executed Julius
certainly might attempt to get rid of the instrument he had used, as he
had rid himself of Sir Simon, but in the house of Miss Berengaria this
would be a more difficult matter. "And if he tries anything of that sort
on," thought Durham, "I'll have him arrested at once for the first
murder. Meantime, let us see how far he will proceed with the plot."
The young man lying in bed was very weak. His face was thin and pale and
his scrubby beard was now longer. He looked haggard and anxious, and
started up when the door opened. "It is only Mr. Durham and I, Bernard,"
said Miss Berengaria in a soft voice. "We have come about the will."
Michael raised himself on his elbow. "Have you got it?" he asked.
"Yes," said Durham, producing the document. "Miss Plantagenet, will you
please call up your maid to witness it?"
While the old lady rang the bell and Michael read the will, the lawyer
looked closely at the invalid. He was wonderfully like Bernard, and but
that Durham knew that the real Gore was in another place he might have
been deceived. Michael was clever enough to feign illness as an excuse
for talking little, as he evidently dreaded to say much lest Alice or
Durham should question his identity. The whole deception was cleverly
carried out. Michael even attempted to account for any difference in his
signature.
"I feel so weak I can't write as firmly as I used to," he said, when the
maid entered the room. "So you must not be surprised if my signature is
unlike my usual one."
"If it is as good as the writing in your letter, I shan't complain,"
said Durham, wheeling a small table near to the bed.
Michael looked at him sharply, and seemed relieved by this remark. He
evidently thought that all was well and safe, and heard Durham read the
will with closed eyes. Then, raising himself on his elbow, he signed his
name with apparent difficulty. It was wonderfully like the signature of
Bernard. Miss Plantagenet and Maria appended their signatures as
witnesses. Then Durham put the will into an envelope and prepared to go
down. Michael stopped him.
"Mark," he said, using the name Bernard usually called the lawyer by,
"don't you think I am looking better?"
"I think you are very ill," said Durham, gently.
"But you don't think I'll die?"
"I hope not. With nursing you may get better."
Michael's face assumed an expression of terror. "I won't die," he
moaned, sinking back. "I want to get well and enjoy myself."
"Hush! hush!" said Miss Berengaria, folding the clothes round him, "no
more of this unhealthy talk. You will get well."
With Durham they left the room while Maria remained to attend on the
patient. "Well," said Durham, in a low voice, "you see he expects to get
well, now that he has signed the will. I daresay he will disappear. The
body of Bernard will be found, and Michael will share the estate with
Beryl."
"I don't think so," said Miss Plantagenet, grimly. "Beryl will now
murder this poor reptile, and take all the money to himself."
"I fear his expectations will be disappointed," said the lawyer, dryly.