THE RED POCKET-BOOK
"Do you mean to say that the paper Mr. Busham destroyed was not
Edgar's will?" asked Janet, while her sister uttered an exclamation of
joy.
"I do mean it. I reported your conversation about our mutual friend to
Cass, and we both agreed that he was not to be trusted with the
original will. Cass, who is clever at imitating handwriting, procured
a sheet of paper similar, to that upon which the will was written, and
copied it out, signatures and all. I am afraid it was a species of
forgery, but as it had to be done if we wished to checkmate Busham, we
contrived the crime. It was just as well we did so, Miss Gordon, as
Busham had no compunction in destroying the will. My wonder is that a
clever pettifogger such as he is could not see that the document was
forged. Singular obtuseness on his part."
"If it had remained longer in his possession, he no doubt would have
discovered the truth," replied Janet, "but, if you remember, he merely
glanced at it, and not crediting me with so clever an idea as
substituting a copy for the original, took it for the genuine will. I
can never thank you sufficiently, doctor, for what you have done."
"Nor I either," chimed in Laura, who, seeing that there was a prospect
of recovering her husband's money, plucked up her spirits. "Now Mr.
Busham will not be able to rob me."
"H'm!" said Janet, with a frown, "putting the will out of the
question, my dear, you are still in the same dangerous position as
formerly. If he finds out the trick Dr. Ellis has played him, he may
denounce you."
"He will do so at his own risk," cried Ellis, promptly. "And you may
be sure he will never learn the truth from me until it can be told
with safety to Mrs. Moxton. Leave Busham to me. I shall know how to
deal with him. In some way or another we must clear up this mystery,
and exonerate Mrs. Moxton. If there was only some clue."
Janet and Laura looked meaningly at one another. "There _is_ a clue,
although it is only a slight one," said Miss Gordon, hesitatingly.
"To the identity of the murderer?"
"No, but a clue which may lead to his discovery. When Laura was lying
in a faint, the man who stabbed Edgar robbed him of his pocket-book."
"But how could he do that without Moxton recognising him?" asked
Ellis. "You know that Moxton did not die at once, but lived long
enough to scrawl those blood signs on his arm denouncing Zirknitz.
Now, I know that your brother is innocent, as he has established an
_alibi_ with the assistance of his landlady, Mrs. Pastor."
"I cannot explain that, doctor, but undoubtedly Edgar thought that
Rudolph stabbed him, and so wrote on his arm to let Laura know."
"You can read the cryptogram, I presume, Mrs. Moxton?"
"Oh, yes, I know the signs very well. Janet taught them to me, and I
showed them to Edgar for amusement. He, no doubt, wished me to know
that Rudolph had stabbed him, but why he used the signs I cannot say.
He hated Rudolph always, and would have got him into trouble if he
could."
"Well," said Ellis, after a pause, "I can conceive no reason why he
acted as he did. I don't suppose the truth will ever be revealed. But
about this pocket-book, Mrs. Moxton. How do you know that the murderer
took it?"
"I only think so. It was a red Morocco pocket-book with Edgar's
initials on it in gold. He had it when he went out that night, and I
saw him put it into his breast pocket. When Janet came to Pimlico I
asked her if she had seen it, as I thought that there might be some
bank-notes in it, and we needed money badly."
"Did he carry money in it?"
"Yes, when he had any."
"On that night were there any notes in the pocket-book?"
"I cannot say. Rudolph declares that he won twenty pounds from Edgar
on that night. Edgar could not pay him save with an I.O.U., so I don't
think there could have been money in the book."
"Then why should the assassin steal it?"
"Why, indeed!" echoed Janet, who had been silent for some time; "that
is what we wish to find out. As Edgar's jewellery was untouched,
robbery could not have been the motive of the crime. I believe myself
that the pocket-book must have contained some papers of value to the
murderer. No person but he could have taken it, for I examined very
carefully the clothes Edgar wore when he was killed, and could not
find the pocket-book. Dr. Ellis," said Janet, earnestly, "it seems to
me that if you can find that book, you will be able to lay hands on
the criminal."
"Possibly, Miss Gordon. But in what direction am I to look. In the
autumn many men wear fur-lined overcoats, so that is not a strong
clue. Moreover, the pocket-book must long since have been destroyed if
the murderer valued his neck. No; on the whole I think it will be best
to see Busham, as I said before. My movements will depend upon the
sort of information he supplies."
"He will tell you nothing."
"Not of his own free will, perhaps, but I maybe in a position to force
his confidence."
It was now late, as this conversation between the three had lasted a
considerable time. Laura looked so fatigued and ill that Ellis, in his
capacity of medical man, insisted that she should retire. "Take as
much rest and sleep as you can, Mrs. Moxton, and don't worry. I will
help you all I can in this matter, and I have no doubt I shall be able
to clear you of all suspicion. Good-night."
Ellis was accompanied to the door by Janet, who was hopeful of his
success.
"You will be certain to solve this mystery--you and Mr. Cass," said
she. "Think how much you have discovered already by observation."
"And if I do solve it, and right your sister, what then, Miss Gordon?"
Janet laughed, and, in the kindly darkness, blushed. "We can talk of
that when the time comes," she said, answering his thought after the
manner of women.
With this assurance the doctor was fain to be content, and departed
without gaining the kiss of which he had dreamt. Needless to say, he
was more in love than ever, and thanked Heaven that he had been
brought into contact with so noble and earnest a woman as Janet
Gordon. Anxious to hear the result of his friend's visit, Cass was
waiting up for him, and into his astonished ears Ellis poured the
whole story which exonerated and cleansed Janet. Cass admitted that he
had been wrong in his estimate of her character.
"But how was one to read it properly under the circumstances," he said
testily. "I could not believe in the woman without proof."
"I did," said Ellis, smiling.
"Because you are in love; yours was not legitimate belief. On the same
mad principle you would have trusted Lucrezia Borgia. Still, your
experience is sufficiently strange, and I am glad that your instinct
has been justified. Miss Gordon, on the face of it, has proved herself
a singularly able, and, I may say, a noble woman; but I must see more
of her, and learn to know her better before I can rescind my former
opinion--that she is not the wife for you."
"To know her is to love her," said Ellis, with deep emotion.
"Ah, you see I don't know her, therefore I cannot love her; if I did
you might object. However, the main question at present is how to
extricate her and Mrs. Moxton from their equivocal position. Until the
assassin is found, and all is made plain, Mrs. Moxton dare not explain
our trick to Busham or claim her property. If she did he might be
dangerous."
"Can he be dangerous?"
"So far as inclination goes I should say so, but whether he has the
power is another question, and one not so easily answered. However,
for your satisfaction, Bob, I can tell you that Busham is a liar.
While you were at Myrtle Villa I went round to Drake at the Police
Office and tried to find out if Busham had spoken to any policeman on
that night. If you remember he declared that he held a long
conversation with one at, or near, the station. He trusts to that for
an _alibi_."
"But Drake does not know Busham; he could tell you nothing, Harry."
"Quite so, but he could tell me who was on duty on that night. I did
not inform him of my reasons, save that I was curious on my own
account to learn who killed Moxton, so I found out the names of the
police on duty that night. Queerly enough their term of service has
come round again for night duty, so I went out and questioned at least
half a dozen about Busham."
"Well?" asked Ellis, impatiently.
"Well, Busham is a liar; he spoke to none of them, and none spoke to
him. They never saw a gentleman of his description about on that
night, so I judged that he dodged after Moxton in the shadows to avoid
recognition. Now, Bob, your best plan is to see Busham and accuse him;
then we shall see if he can bring forward in his defence this
supposititious policeman."
"Good. I'll call on our mutual friend to-morrow. But I shall see
Zirknitz first."
"What for?"
"To ask him how Busham was dressed on that night. As the police would
not recognise Busham by his face, they might by his dress. In that way
we can learn if anyone of them saw him following Moxton after they
left the railway station."
Having decided upon this course, which, under the circumstances, was
the most sensible, both men retired to bed. Next morning, after a
further discussion with Cass, the doctor set out for Bloomsbury. As
yet he had not many patients, so he could afford the time, but his
practice was increasing, and he foresaw that unless he could bring the
matter of the murder to a speedy conclusion, he would be obliged to
throw it over altogether. But on Janet's account he was unwilling to
do this.
As usual, M. Zirknitz was still in bed, and Ellis waited for some time
in the gorgeous sitting-room, which its owner--apparently--had created
out of nothing. When the Austrian made his appearance he was as lively
as ever, and greeted Ellis in his most genial manner.
"Ah, Ellis, _mon ami, mon cher_, so you have arrived once more. Is it
to take me to a prison or to join me at _déjeuner_--the latter, I hope;
friendship is so much more charming than enmity."
"I have come only to ask you a few questions, Zirknitz; also to tell
you something which may astonish you."
"Astonish me! _C'est une mauvaise plaisanterie, mon cher_. I am never
astonished at anything in this best of all possible worlds. You have
not read _Candide_, in which that saying occurs? No. Ah, you should.
Voltaire is the most witty of his race. _Eh bien!_ What is your
astonishing news?"
"I know your history and that of your sisters, and I have learnt how
Miss Gordon took the place of Mrs. Moxton to fight her battles."
"You know that? Ah, well, Janet must have told you. If she did, she is
right. Janet can do no wrong. She is the dearest and most excellent
sister in the world."
"Are you the best brother to her?"
"I? _Mon, ami_, I am a scamp. I have no good in me. If I had it would
not be so creditable to Janet that she is fond of me. So she has told
you all her intrigues. What can I do?"
"Inform me about Busham. You saw him on that night?"
"_Oui da!_ He followed that poor Edgar from the station."
"How was he dressed?"
Zirknitz reflected. "It was cold that night," said he, musingly. "I
put on a fur coat. Eh! Ah, yes. Busham had a coat of the same and a
tall hat. I can say no more than that."
A fur-lined coat, a tall hat. This was precisely the scanty
description given by Laura of her momentary glimpse of the assassin.
What if the lawyer, after all, should be the guilty person? Full of
excitement Ellis detailed to Zirknitz his suspicions, and cited the
fact of the red pocket-book. The Austrian uttered an exclamation of
astonishment on hearing that this was missing.
"Edgar, excellent Edgar, had it in his pocket at the music-hall. Eh!
yes, I quite remember. He took out the book to show me a bill."
"A bill? What kind of a bill?"
"A bill of exchange or a promissory note. Now you speak, _mon cher
ami_, it all comes back to me. Edgar showed me the name of his father
on the bill and declared that it was forged."
"A forged bill!" said Ellis, "and in the pocket-book which was stolen?
Ah, this, then, may be the motive for the crime. Zirknitz, did Moxton
say who had forged the bill?"
"Eh? No. He said, 'My Rudolph, see what I got from Busham this
night.'"
"Busham! Busham! Could he have forged the bill?"
"Eh? No, I think not, or he would not give it to Edgar."
"Still, a forged bill, obtained from Busham, and he followed Edgar out
of the station. He wore a tall hat and a fur coat. As the assassin was
dressed the same it might be--By Heavens! Zirknitz, I believe that
Busham is the guilty person, after all."
Zirknitz shrugged his shoulders, but did not offer an opinion, and as
the doctor did not think that there was anything further to be learnt
from him, he rose to go. At the door, however, he paused, and made a
chance remark which gained him greater results than any of his
previous questions.
"I forgot to tell you," said Ellis, "that I have tricked Busham. He
thinks that he has a claim to a portion of Mrs. Moxton's property
because he destroyed the will. But what he destroyed, M. Zirknitz, was
a copy made by me; the original is in my possession."
Rudolph's eyes sparkled. "Then Laura will inherit all Moxton's
wealth?"
"Undoubtedly, as soon as she can claim it, without risking any danger
from Busham. He knows too much."
"But not as much as I know. Listen, _mon ami_. I can tell you a great
deal about Busham which will help you to save Laura. Eh, yes, I will
see that she gets the money of that poor Edgar."
"So that you may get a share of it, I suppose?" said Ellis, drily.
Zirknitz laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "But, certainly-- Why
not? I am her brother; I need money. If I help her, she must help me.
Listen! _mon cher_."
With this exordium Zirknitz poured forth into Ellis's ears a story
about the lawyer and about his own treachery which at once pleased and
horrified Ellis. He did not know whether most to hate or admire the
scamp; but in the end he decided that it would be diplomatic to hide
his feelings, and so ended his visit.