STILL A MYSTERY
The two men stood in silence, looking down on the wretched creature
shivering in the chair. Walter Fane had never been much of a man, and
now that his guilt had been brought home to him, he looked more of a
craven than ever. A rat would have showed a braver front, for when in
a corner that animal will fight. But Fane did not even show his teeth.
He lay in the chair, huddled up, with his face covered, and moaned
like a rabbit taken in a trap.
There seemed no doubt as to his guilt, and none was in the mind of the
two men who had hunted him down. The evidence was without a flaw, and
if Fane escaped the gallows, he so richly-deserved, it would be more a
miracle than by any natural occurrence. The diary of his wife,
identified him with the husband who had grown weary of her. The
evidence of the key showed how she had entered the house, which had
originally been furnished for her, and it only remained to learn from
the lips of the assassin precisely how the crime had been committed.
Fane made no attempt to defend himself. He did not even state that he
had been at Westcliff-on-Sea on the night, and at the very time of the
murder. He simply lay there crushed, and in spite of the horror of the
cold-blooded crime he had committed, in spite of his cowardliness, the
two men pitied a human being who could fall so low, and behave so
basely. Even the courage of a rogue can be admired, but there was
nothing worthy of admiration in the conduct of the man who had thus
been caught.
Arnold spoke first, and even though he pitied in some ways the man, he
could not render his voice other than cold and harsh. "Well, Fane," he
said sharply, "and what is to be done?"
Fane did not reply. He only moaned. Tracey answered for him. "There's
only one thing to be done, I guess," said he; "hand him over to the
police. He deserves it."
The miserable man sprang to his feet with a shrill cry. "No! no! I
will kill myself first. You shall not--you shall not"; and he glared
at them with dishevelled hair and bloodshot eyes, his face white, his
lips grey in an extremity of fear. Calvert took no notice but turned
to the American.
"I am unwilling to do that," he said. "After all I am to marry Laura,
and there is her sister to be considered. Should the whole truth be
made public, Mrs. Fane will suffer. She is not this man's wife. I must
think of her and the child, Tracey."
"That's true," assented the other, pondering. Then he looked up in a
brisk manner. "I reckon the best thing is for Fane here to tell us the
whole story."
"You have heard the story," moaned Fane, still hiding his shameful
face.
"Not your version of it," said Tracey. "I dare say you'll try and make
black appear white, and swear you didn't kill your wife."
Fane looked up. "I'll swear to that certainly," he said solemnly. "I
did not kill her."
Arnold turned from him in disgust, thinking to save his neck he was
lying, but Walter caught him by the coat. "Calvert! Calvert! listen to
me only a moment--only a moment. I swear by all that's holy that I did
not lay a finger on Flora."
"You acknowledge that she was your wife?"
"I do--I do."
"And that she came to the house?"
"Yes, yes!"
"And that you saw her there?"
"Not alive--not alive. She was dead when I set eyes on her."
"That's a lie, anyhow," said Tracey.
"It is not a lie."
"It is. You want to save your neck. Hang it man, confess, and die like
a man. You killed this poor woman to rid yourself of her."
"No! I didn't. I swear I didn't. Oh, why won't you believe me?"
"You are such a liar," said Tracey. "But I don't want to be hard on
you. Take a drink of brandy. It will pull you together. Calvert, with
your permission----"
The American went to the side-board and filled a glass. While he was
thus occupied, Calvert touched the man on the shoulder. Fane, who had
again sunk into the chair, trembling and white, looked up. "Take the
brandy," said Calvert quietly, "and then tell us your story. Until I
am absolutely convinced of your guilt, I am willing to give you the
benefit of the doubt."
"Oh bless you--bless you!" Fane seized Arnold's hand, and tried to
kiss it, but the young man drew it away, with an ejaculation of
disgust, and wiped it.
"Be a man," he said angrily. "If you had nerve enough to kill poor
Flora in that brutal manner, surely you can face the result."
"I didn't kill her, I tell you," cried Fane in an hysterical manner.
"I am as innocent as you are. Give me the brandy--give--ah!"
He had it to his lips by this time, and drained the glass of neat
spirits at a draught. Then he coughed, placed the glass on the table,
and sat down. The spirit give him the courage he lacked, and after a
few moments he looked up, more composed.
"Sit down, Calvert, and you, Mr. Tracey. I'm going to make a clean
breast of it. But you will not find me so bad as you think."
"Whatever you may say, the case is bad enough," growled Tracey, and
took a seat. Calvert did the same, and both pair of eyes were turned
expectantly on the culprit. Fane began in a hurry, as though he was
afraid lest the effect of the spirit should die out, and leave him
powerless to finish his gruesome recital.
"I am the husband of Flora Brand," he declared in a low voice, and
with a flushed face, induced by shame at his position. "I met her five
or six years ago--I forget the exact time--and married her."
"Why did you call yourself Wentworth?" asked Arnold.
Fane wriggled and looked down. "I hardly know," he said faintly. "I
wanted----" he paused, then out came the truth with a violent effort.
"I wanted two strings to my bow."
"As how?" asked Tracey, watching him.
"In this way. I met Flora in a crowd at some fireworks. She was in
danger of being crushed. I rescued her. She was pretty, and I admired
her. I followed up the acquaintance, and called on her mother."
"As Wentworth?"
"Yes! I--I----" here Fane wriggled again, and made an effort as though
swallowing a lie. "I called myself Wentworth, because I didn't wish
her to know my real name. For the same reason I said I was a
commercial traveller."
"I don't see the reason."
"You will soon," said Fane, with a cynical look, for, as the brandy
took more effect on him, he became bolder. "I had a small sum of money,
and no occupation. If I wanted to be at ease, it was necessary that I
should marry a rich woman. I wanted to leave a way of escape."
"I see," said Tracey, in a tone of disgust. "You intended to marry
Flora under your false name, so that should occasion offer, you might
marry a wealthy woman under your real one."
"Yes," said Fane calmly; "that was my intention. But I did not intend
to marry Flora at all at first. Then I fell so deeply in love with her
that I decided to ask her to be my wife. She told me of the money she
expected from Brand in Australia, and of course that made me eager to
marry her."
"Then why did you take the name of Brand?"
"One of my friends saw me in the neighbourhood, and I could no longer
assume the name of Wentworth. Flora's mother was just dead, so I told
her that I expected money from a man called Brand, who had the same
name as the man in Australia."
"You got the name from him?"
"Yes
"Well," said Calvert, "I don't see your reason for the change of name.
Wentworth would have served quite as well to hide your contemplated
villainy. I suppose you know, Mr. Fane, that even though you married
Flora under a false name, the marriage holds good."
Fane shivered. "Yes, I learned that from my lawyer when I went to see
him about my marriage with Julia. I had no intention of committing
bigamy. Circumstances were so strong----"
"Oh, chuck that," said Tracey roughly; "get along with the yarn."
"Fane looked angrily at the indignant face of the American, and
obeyed. He had no alternative.
"I took the name of Brand, and married Flora. We lived at Gunnersbury,
and were always talking what we should do, when we got the Brand
money. I intended to furnish a house with the money I had."
"What about the White Room?"
"That was a favourite fancy of Flora's. She loved a white room. I
promised to furnish one in the new house."
"Then you did not furnish Ajax Villa for Miss Mason?"
"No; for Flora. News came that the old man was very ill--probably
dying. The money had been left to Flora. On the strength of that, I
spent my money in furnishing the villa, so that when we inherited the
fortune I might take Flora there."
"It seems to me you counted your chickens before they were hatched,
Fane," said Calvert; "but it's just the sort of thing a weak man like
you would do. I suppose you loved Flora in a way."
"I did love her. I loved her very dearly. Had I not done so I would
have severed myself from her when I married Julia. As it was----"
"You betrayed both women," finished Calvert. "Yes?"
Fane hung his head, for the scorn in Calvert's voice was hard to bear
with patience.
"I knew Julia for some time, and knew she was rich. She took a fancy
to me, and I saw that I would only have to ask her to be my wife, and
she would consent. Then came the news that old Brand had married his
housekeeper. I thought it was all up with the chance of getting the
money, so I married Julia. As a commercial traveller (as Flora
believed me to be) I could stop away for a long time. I induced
her to take the Hampstead house, and did not appear in the matter. I
acted----"
"Like a mean hound!" cried the American wrathfully. "In our country
you'd have been tarred and feathered, and lynched on the top it."
"There's no need to call names," said Fane cynically. "I am at your
mercy, so----"
"You deserve none."
"Calvert, I appeal to you," said Fane, turning to the other.
"You shall have strict justice, and no more," said Arnold, in an icy
tone; "anything I do will be for the sake of your wife and child."
Fane shrugged his shoulders, and sneered. "Virtuous men," he said; "oh,
what virtuous men! But had you been in a dilemma, as I was, you would
have acted as I did. I had little money, having foolishly spent a lot
on the furnishing of Ajax Villa. Also, I had to pay the rent. And you
know, Calvert, how magnificently it is furnished."
"White Room and all," said Calvert, coldly and unsmilingly.
"Yes, I arranged that to surprise Flora. But after we learned that the
money of Brand would not come to us, we did not get on well together."
"I guess you made her suffer," said Tracey savagely.
"No. The fault was with Flora. She thought I was in love with other
women, and was jealous."
"She had cause to be. Go on."
"Not so, as far as she knew," replied Fane coolly. "Well, we did not
get on harmoniously. Then, finding matters were desperate with me, I
proposed to Julia, and married her."
"And you took her to the villa you had prepared for Flora?"
"Yes, I did," said Fane defiantly. "Julia's money could keep up that
house, and Flora had none. I told Julia I was fond of yachting, and
she allowed me to go away for months at a time. She did not mind so
long as I left her control of the business, as I did. I bought into
the firm with a little of my money, and a good deal of hers. The
business rightfully belonged to her, so she did the work."
"And you went away yachting?"
"I never yachted at all--or very little," said Fane in a contradictory
manner. "I spent the time when away from Julia with Flora."
"And the time you indulged yourself as a commercial traveller, you
spent at Ajax Villa," said Calvert.
"Yes. I managed to keep both wives, and both households."
"Calvert and Tracey, amazed by the utter shamelessness of the man,
stared at one another. But they could not help admiring the cleverness
which he had employed to live this double life. How long did it last?"
asked Calvert.
"For three years more or less. At last things became so bad that I
wanted to be away from Flora for a long time. I suggested that I might
be a relative of Brand and that I should go to Australia. Flora
believed that I went."
"And all the time you were posing as Fane at Ajax Villa?"
"I was--I told Julia I was tired of yachting. I remained at home----"
"One of your homes."
"In my own home," said Fane, with emphasis, "under my own name. I
suppose this man Bocaros--although I don't know him--must have seen me
and have put two and two together."
"Yes," chimed in Tracey, "and no doubt he heard of you from Miss Mason,
who is a friend of Gerty B. She is the daughter of Bocaros's landlady,
Mrs. Baldwin, and he was frequently at her house."
Fane groaned. "To think I should have been given away like that," he
said in a melancholy tone, "and I never knew the danger. I wonder why
Bocaros told Flora?"
"For the money, I guess," said Tracey, "seeing she made a will in his
favour. But that needs clearing up; the professor shall do it. You get
along with your story."
"There's little more to tell."
"Oh yes, there's a lot. What about the crime?"
"I am innocent," protested Fane solemnly; "I came back to Flora while
Bocaros was poisoning her mind. She accused me of being married but I
denied it. She never mentioned Bocaros, or I should have been placed
on my guard. I remained a time in the Hampstead house, and I suppose
while I was there Flora, under the direction of Bocaros, managed to
take an impression of my key. I always wore my latch-key on a chain,
but Flora could easily have taken an impression while I was asleep.
Then I went away for the last time, thinking that her jealous fears
were at rest. She told me about the money, and I was enraged to think
how I was done out of it. Julia has not ten thousand a year," said
Fane sadly, "or anything like it. I would have done better to stick to
Flora."
"Go on," said Arnold impatiently, "for heaven's sake spare us these
remarks. You left the Hampstead house, thinking all was well."
"Yes," replied Fane, with a sullen glance at the man who rebuked him,
"and all would have been well but for that interfering Greek. I went
down to Westcliff-on-Sea, and stopped with my wife."
"With Miss Julia Mason?"
"With my wife," said Fane savagely; "I look upon her as my wife."
"Does she know you were married before?"
"No. She knows a lot and about the death of Flora. But she thinks----"
Arnold rose. The man sickened him. "Don't say anything more. I can
understand what lies you told her. Come to the point. Why did you come
up on that night to Ajax Villa?"
Fane gave Arnold a second ugly look. "I came, because on the morning
of the twenty-fourth I received a letter from Flora saying she had
found out my house and was going there on that night to see my wife.
She insisted I should be there also so that she might learn the exact
truth."
"As though a low-down cuss like you was capable of telling it," said
Tracey, in disgust; "but how did the letter come to the seaside? Did
Mrs. Brand know your address there?"
"No. The letter was addressed to Ajax Villa, and sent on. It had been
written on the previous day, and had I received it earlier, I should
have gone to Hampstead and seen Flora. As it was, I had no time, and
could see her only at the villa."
"You had the whole day," said Arnold dryly, "seeing that you received
her letter in the morning."
"Yes. But Mrs. Fane was in the room when I received it. She became
angry, for she is a very jealous woman. I swore it was not from a
woman. She would not believe me, and all that day kept a watch on me.
I could not get away, yet I felt, to put things straight and to
persuade Flora to hold her tongue, I must. I then pretended to be ill
and went to bed. After five I slipped out and took the six train to
town. I have reason to believe that my wife followed----"
"We'll come to that later," said Calvert quickly. "Did you go at once
to the villa?"
"No. Flora said she would not be there till between eight and nine. I
waited in town. Then I met a friend and he detained me till nearly
nine. I got away at last, and went to the villa. It was in darkness. I
could not find Flora in the garden where I expected she would be."
"You didn't know she had a key?"
"No. She said nothing about it in her letter. I wondered where she
was, then concluded that as I was late she had gone away. I intended
going to the Hampstead house, but thought I would go into my own for a
time. I opened the door, and went upstairs. I entered the White Room,
and there I found Flora, dead."
"Dead!" it was Arnold who spoke; "you swear she was dead?"
"Yes, I swear it," said Fane, striking his breast in a somewhat
theatrical manner. "She was lying dead on the mat before the
piano, and had apparently been struck from behind. I looked at my
watch;---it was a quarter past nine. I was horrified and wondered how
she had come by her end. I searched the house. There was no one about,
and all the doors were barred. About half-past nine, while I was
searching in the back, I heard a ring at the door. I was terrified,
and thought if I were found in the house with the dead that I would be
arrested."
"And it's a pity you were not," said Tracey.
"A ring at the door at half-past nine," said Arnold thoughtfully; "I
expect that was Laura. She promised to meet me there then. But after a
time, as no one came to the door, she went away."
Fane stared at Calvert. "What was Laura doing there?" he asked. "I
knew you came, but Laura----"
"How did you know I came?" said Arnold sharply.
"I saw you."
"Where?"
"In the White Room when you looked at the body."
"Then you remained in the house?"
"I was afraid to go," said Fane, with a shudder; "I thought some one
would see me coming out of the house, and that I would be arrested
when the crime came to light. I had an idea of disposing of the body,
but I could not. After the ring at the door I waited for a time. Then
I stole back to the White Room, and took the dagger which was lying by
the body."
"A stage dagger?"
"Yes. Though I didn't know it was so at the time. I went to the back
and thrust it into the dustbin out of sight. I was afraid to take it
away with me lest it should be found on me, for that with the dead
body and my relations with the dead woman, would have been evidence
enough to hang me. I hid the dagger in the bin. Then I was coming back
to the room, when I heard footsteps."
"Whose footsteps?"
"I don't know. I was too afraid to venture out. I remained in the back
part of the house almost mad with terror. Calvert," cried Fane,
clasping his hands, "I assure you I thought my brain would give way. I
fancied that the police were in the house and that the body had been
discovered. I made up my mind to be arrested. Had I but had the nerve
I would have gone back for the dagger and killed myself."
Tracey sneered. "People of your sort don't kill themselves. Well, how
long did you hide?"
"I can't say. Till some time after ten. Then I heard the front door
close and stole out. I went up to the White Room. The body was still
undisturbed. I wondered how I could get away and down to Southend so
as to establish an _alibi_. Then I waited and heard you come in. Yes,
I heard the door open. I concealed myself behind the hangings of the
room. I saw you enter. You started when you saw the dead and
recognised the body, to my surprise. Arnold, how was it you never knew
me as Flora's husband?"
"I saw very little of my cousin," said Arnold, "and she scarcely spoke
of you."
"But the photographs?"
"I never saw any of you."
"Yet there were several. Afterwards, when all was quiet, and after the
body was buried, I went to the Hampstead house and removed all papers
and photographs so that my connection with Flora might not be known."
"You forgot a photograph that Derrick found, and one that I picked
up," said Tracey; "then there was a diary."
"I never thought of the diary," said Fane, passing his hand across his
face, "yet I should have. Flora told me she kept one, and I might have
guessed she would set down everything. But I was in such terror at
being discovered in the Hampstead house that I forgot."
"You were a coward right through," said Arnold coldly; "however, go
on. What happened after you saw me?"
"I waited. You went down the stairs evidently in a great fright. As
you recognised the body I knew you would not call in the police, as
you apparently fancied you might be accused. When you left I went to
the window to see you go out. I saw the officer passing, and then to
make him think that people were in the house, and to drive you away, I
set the phonograph going."
"I heard it--I was in the hall," said Arnold, "and I was afraid. I
admit it, Fane, I was terribly afraid."
"I guessed you would be. You left the house. I saw the policeman lean
over the gate to listen. I saw you join him. I saw you walk away. Then
I thought I would escape. When you were gone with the officer, I stole
out. I passed along a by-street. I saw a motor----"
"My car," said Tracey, "and you took it to Charing Cross."
"I did," nodded Fane, "then I left it there and caught the underground
railway to Liverpool Street, where I took the express to Southend. The
rest you know."
"Not who killed Mrs. Brand," said Arnold.
Fane considered. "I can't tell you who did," he said; "she was dead
before I came, so those who came into the house after ten could not
have killed her."
"Do you know who they were?"
"No! I heard footsteps."
"How do you know there were two?"
"I only think so. There might have been only one person. I can't say,
I was not in a state to think. I hid, and then all happened as I say.
I don't know who killed my wife. I got back to Southend and afterwards
heard the body had been discovered. I came to town and bluffed out the
whole matter with that fool of a Derrick. When I heard about the
Hampstead house being found I went there before Derrick came, and
removed everything, as I said."
"Did you find nothing to lead you to think who killed Mrs. Brand?"
Fane hesitated. "I can hardly say," he said, feeling in his
watchpocket, "but as you know so much you may as well know all."
"We must know all for your safety."
"You believe I am guiltless?"
"Yes," said Arnold slowly, "I think you are, seeing that your story is
consistent. But we'll see. I will do nothing publicly for the sake of
your wife and Laura. What did you find?"
Fane took out his watch-chain and produced an old-fashioned, small
round locket of pale gold. "That was in the hand of Flora," he said.
"I expect she grasped at it when the murderer struck at her."
"There was a struggle, then," said Calvert, and opened the locket. He
gave a cry: "Calvert, it's Mrs. Baldwin's face!"
Tracey started also. Sure enough it was the face of Mrs. Baldwin only
much younger-looking. "I said a woman did it," murmured Tracey
heavily, "but I never thought it would be that woman. Yet she might be
the one."