WHAT MRS. AMBER KNEW
Mrs. Amber made this communication in a whisper, and then drew back to
see what effect it would have on Ellis. He appeared to be less
surprised than she expected, for the scene in Busham's office had
prepared him to suspect Janet Gordon. Therefore he was not astonished
to find his suspicions confirmed, but he did not go quite so far in
his accusation as Mrs. Amber.
"For reasons which I need not repeat," said he, deliberately, "I am
not so surprised as you expect me to be. I have long thought that Miss
Gordon might know of the murder, but I most emphatically decline to
believe that she struck the blow herself."
"But the cuffs were stained with blood. I washed them myself, and told
Sarah to hold her tongue."
"Miss Gordon may have handled the body after the death, Mrs. Amber,
but I do not think she killed the man. If you read the report of the
evidence I gave at the inquest you will remember that I stated no
woman could have struck so firm and sure a blow. I hold to that
opinion. Moxton was stabbed by a man."
"What man?"
"That is what I wish to ask you, Mrs. Amber."
The ex-actress turned pale beneath her rouge, and two red spots glowed
crudely on her white cheeks. "I!" she exclaimed, drawing back. "How do
I know who killed Mr. Moxton?"
"I do not say that you know, but from your experience of the man, and
from a certain amount of knowledge which you must have of his past
life, it is not improbable that your suspicions may have fallen on
someone who had a grudge against him."
"No," declared Mrs. Amber, vehemently. "I suspect no one--that is, I
_did_ suspect Miss Gordon because of those blood-stained cuffs. But
from what you say she cannot have struck the blow, so I can guess at
no one else. If I had done so I should have come forward to give
evidence. It was my personal liking for Miss Gordon which made me hold
my tongue. Besides, I never saw the cuffs until the inquest was over
and Moxton was buried," finished Mrs. Amber, naïvely.
"You have known Mrs. Moxton and her sister for some time?"
"For four years, more or less. They are twins, you know, and very much
alike, but I think Janet the cleverer of the two. Certainly she has
the finer character, and the more generous spirit. Laura is fickle and
vain."
Ellis did not agree with this, and, being in love with the Laura
aforesaid, was vexed to hear such deprecatory criticism. However, he
consoled himself with the hackneyed reflection, weak in so clever a
man, that women never spoke well of one another, and continued his
inquiries. "Mrs. Moxton earned her money by typewriting, did she not?"
"Yes. Janet wanted to keep her out of mischief, so selected that
employment as the best for her. Laura wished to be an attendant in the
Merryman Music-Hall, also, but this Janet would not allow."
"I wonder the sisters could not obtain better employment."
"My dear Dr. Ellis, they were wretchedly poor and had to take what
they could get. Anything to earn their bread and butter."
"Where did they come from?"
"I don't know. They came to me recommended by Herr Schwartz, and I
took them in as cheaply as I could, because I fancied Janet's face.
Ah, me," sighed Mrs. Amber, "I trust I have not been mistaken. But so
good a girl! No! in spite of those cuffs I believe in her still. Why,
Dr. Ellis, Janet is worth a dozen of her sister or that scampish
brother."
"Zirknitz, do you know him?"
"Yes, I do," replied Mrs. Amber, bluntly, "and I don't like him. He
was here with the girls for some weeks, and let them slave and work
while he idled about. He left pretty soon, as I remonstrated with him
on the subject, and I wasn't sorry to see his back."
"You know Schwartz also, it seems."
"Of course. I was in a theatrical company of his once," cried Mrs.
Amber, with great vivacity. "Papa Schwartz is a dear, good man. He
helped Janet by engaging her at the hall. She was his private
secretary."
"I thought she sold programmes?"
"Oh, yes, and showed people to their seats. She did that also, but she
really was the secretary of Papa Schwartz. Sometimes Laura went to the
hall, and it was there she met Moxton. He fell in love with her and
married her. She brought her pigs to a pretty market," said Mrs.
Amber, vigorously but vulgarly, "but she would marry the beast in
spite of all that Janet could say."
"Do you know about Captain Garret?"
"And Hilda? Of course I do. They lived with me for some time. Poor
girl, she is blind, and Papa Schwartz is devoted to her."
"What about her father?"
Mrs. Amber shrugged her shoulders and jingled her bracelets. "Oh! he
is well enough," said she, in a disparaging tone. "A broken-down
military dandy. Hilda would be in the workhouse so far as he is
concerned. It is Papa Schwartz who keeps them both."
"In spite of his reputation Schwartz seems to be a good man," said
Ellis, musingly. "You say that he engaged Janet Gordon as his private
secretary. How was that?"
"He knew her in Germany, or Austria, or somewhere."
"Indeed, have she and her sister lived abroad?"
"Yes, for a considerable time, I believe. Their stepfather was a M.
Zirknitz, as I learnt from that horrid Rudolph. But I really do not
know anything about their past life, doctor. Janet held her tongue,
and so did Laura, in spite of her frivolity. Who they are or where
they came from I do not know. Papa Schwartz might."
"I shall see him about it. There appears to be some mystery about
these girls, Mrs. Amber."
"I agree with you, doctor. But I am certain they are ladies."
"Did you see Miss Gordon when she arrived here after the murder?"
"No, she came in after midnight and used her latchkey. I thought
nothing of it at the time, as her business kept her out late. But when
I wished to see her about the murder, which was in the morning papers,
she refused to let me enter the room. I never saw her until two or
three days ago, when she went away."
"Did Mrs. Moxton come to see her?"
"No, Mrs. Moxton never came near her, except this last time to take
her away. Where they have gone I know no more than the man in the
moon."
"Did anyone come to see her while she was in her bedroom."
"Papa Schwartz did, but she refused to admit him."
"I wonder if he will know their whereabouts?"
"He might," said Mrs. Amber, with a nod. "Janet is his secretary."
"She was, but she is not now," contradicted Ellis. "She gave up her
place."
Mrs. Amber's face expressed unqualified amazement. "Dear me, how does
she intend to live?"
"I don't know. Mrs. Moxton may keep her."
"But Mrs. Moxton hasn't a shilling. Her husband's father disinherited
him for marrying her."
"Oh, she will come in for some of the property," said Ellis, trying to
explain without mentioning about the burnt will. "Old Moxton died
intestate, so half his estate will go to his son's widow. But tell me,
Mrs. Amber, do you know a man called Busham?"
"No, I never heard the name."
"He did not call here?"
"Not to my knowledge. Who is he?"
"Mrs. Moxton's lawyer." Ellis rose to take his leave. "Well, Mrs.
Amber," he said, "I am much obliged for the information you have given
me. For certain private reasons I wish to find out who murdered
Moxton, but it seems you cannot help me."
"No, I know of no one. I cannot guess who would be such a villain. But
if anyone knows, it will be Janet Gordon. She must have handled the
body, as those blood-stained cuffs show."
"You knew that she was at Dukesfield on that night?"
"Yes, she told me she was going, and that M. Zirknitz intended to
fetch her home. That was why I wished to see her next day when the
papers were full of the murder. I thought she might know something
about it. And I am sure she does know," cried Mrs. Amber; "else why
did she shut herself up in her room all these weeks? I wouldn't have
stood it from anyone but Janet Gordon, I can tell you."
"You appear to have a great admiration for her."
"I have. Women, Dr. Ellis, do not as a rule admire one another, but
when I know how Janet Gordon has protected that silly sister of hers,
and looked after her scampish brother, I think of her as one of the
noblest women I have ever met."
With this eulogy bestowed, in the opinion of Ellis, on the wrong
woman, Mrs. Amber parted from him with theatrical effusion. The doctor
left the Pimlico house in a musing frame of mind. It was strange that
Mrs. Amber, who seemed to be a good-natured woman in spite of her many
affectations, should think so little of Mrs. Moxton. Ellis piqued
himself upon being a reader of character, and he could not bring
himself to believe that he was mistaken in the widow. But he was
puzzled to think how completely Mrs. Amber's estimate of her nature
differed from his own. Thinking about Mrs. Moxton recalled his mind to
the fact of her disappearance and he wondered if Schwartz would know
of her whereabouts. With this in his mind he hailed a hansom and drove
to Soho. In the meantime, pending the discovery of Mrs. Moxton, he
dismissed all speculations concerning her from his mind. So far as he
could see, time and association were needed to explain her very
complex character. After the interview with Mrs. Amber, the doctor
considered the little woman more of a sphinx than ever, and he wanted
her to speak and unravel the enigma of her being.
Schwartz was in his office when Ellis sent in his card, and saw the
doctor at once. He looked more than a trifle careworn, but his
pleasure in seeing Ellis was great, and he advanced towards him with
outstretched hands. Nothing could have been more genial than his
welcome.
"Aha, mine goot doctor," said he, in his guttural voice, "dis is kind
to gome and zee me. But you haf not peen to zee mine Hilda. Dat is
wrong."
"I have been very busy, Mr. Schwartz, but I will pay you a visit next
week--say on Thursday afternoon."
"Ach, dat is goot. At what time, for I must be in mine house when you
zee the eyes of mine poor Hilda."
"Four o'clock on Thursday next," said Ellis, booking the visit. "Oh,
yes, I know the address. Goethe Cottage, Alma Road, Parkmere."
"Dat is zo, doctor. I vill wait you on that day. And what did you wish
to zee me about?"
"Mrs. Moxton. She has left Dukesfield, and I wish to learn where she
is."
The fat face of the German lost its genial expression. "Ach, she haf
gone. Vell, and why do you gome to me, doctor?"
"I have been told that you are an old friend of Mrs. Moxton and Miss
Gordon."
"Zo! Who told you?"
"Mrs. Amber, of Geneva Square, Pimlico."
"Ach, she was in a gombany of mine. I know her. Vell, yes, I am a
frent of Miss Corton, but she haf left me. I do not know vere she is
now."
"Has she not seen you lately?"
"Not, not des many veeks. And Mrs. Moxton haf gone?"
"Yes, she called at Pimlico for her sister, and they went off
together."
"Why do you want to finze zem?"
"Because I have something to tell Mrs. Moxton."
"Zo! About ze murder of dat boor man?"
"Well, not exactly, but Busham, the--"
The eyes of Schwartz suddenly flashed with rage. "Ah, he is a pig, zat
man. I could kill him."
"Do you know him?"
"Ach, I knows him. I did throw him out of mine music-halls. Vell,
vell, do not talk of him, or I vill be angry. If you wish to know of
Mrs. Moxton zee Zirknitz."
"Will he know?"
"I zink zo. If he does not, no one vill."
With this information Ellis was obliged to be content, but as he left
the hall he observed that the German looked after him with a very
singular expression.