"Remain patient and I'll explain," Eva answered, glancing at the
new-comers. "First, however, let me relate a very curious circumstance.
Hartmann, who lived somewhere in London, we saw seldom, but very soon
after taking possession of The Hollies, there one day called an old
friend of Madame's, accompanied by her husband. They were the Blains.
Mrs. Blain afterwards came frequently to us at The Hollies, and we often
spent the day at Riverdene, while so intimate did the two women become
that Madame took the house next to that rented by Mrs. Blain in
Kensington."
"Next door?" I gasped, astounded. "In Upper Phillimore Place?"
"Yes, the house next to the one you entered on that fatal night was in
the occupation of Madame," she explained. "We seldom went there,
however, although I personally preferred the bright life in Kensington
to that at Hampton. From the many private conversations, meaning looks
and mysterious whisperings exchanged between Madame and Mrs. Blain there
was soon aroused within me a vague suspicion that something secret was
in progress. I liked old Mr. Blain exceedingly, and Mary became my best
friend; nevertheless, my misgivings were strengthened, when one day
Hartmann, unusually shabbily dressed and accompanied by the Blains,
arrived at The Hollies and the trio were closeted for quite an hour with
Madame. At length there also arrived a youngish good-looking man with a
lady of about his own age, and they were at once admitted to the
drawing-room, being enthusiastically welcomed. After half an hour or so
we all dined together, but in the drawing-room before dinner I noticed
two tumblers half-filled with dirty water, in one a tiny glass rod
evidently used for mixing, as though Hartmann had been exhibiting some
of his secret experiments. On entering the dining-room, Madame
introduced her new guests to me as Mr. and Mrs. Coulter-Kerr, and
sitting beside the husband I found him a most interesting and
intelligent man, who literally adored his wife. In the course of
conversation it transpired that the newly-arrived pair were from India,
and had taken the Blains' town house for the season, and further, that
Hartmann, who had apparently become one of their most intimate friends,
had established his laboratory in one of the top rooms of that house."
She paused and glanced across to the detective, who was listening
attentively with folded arms. As she related her story her great clear
eyes became more luminous.
"A week later," she continued, "we went to London and there saw a good
deal of our next-door neighbours. Madame was on terms of the closest
intimacy with them, and frequently we would dine there, or they would
dine with us, while one evening Hartmann--who did not live there, but
only came to continue his scientific studies, assisted by Mr. Kerr, who
took the keenest interest in them--invited us up into his laboratory,
and after showing us Mr. Kerr's collection of pet Indian snakes, which I
confess I did not appreciate, he exhibited to us an experiment which he
told us had never been successfully accomplished by any other man except
himself, namely, the liquefaction of hydrogen. To succeed in this, he
told us, all his efforts had been directed for years, and now that he
had successfully solved the problem he would one day launch it upon the
scientific world as a bolt from the blue. Our friends gave excellent
dinners, were evidently possessed of almost unlimited means, and were
never so happy as when the Blains and ourselves were at their table or
playing cards with them. Soon, however, another matter caused me deep
reflection. One evening at The Hollies, after the Blains and Hartmann
had been closely closeted with Madame, discussing, as they so often did,
their private affairs, I found lying beneath a book upon the table, and
apparently overlooked, several plain cards, and others with devices,
lines and circles roughly-drawn in ink. Then two or three days later,
when I chanced to call in at the Kerrs, I noticed, stuck behind a mirror
over the mantelshelf, some cards exactly similar. I was alone,
therefore my curiosity prompted me to examine them. Upon them I found
exactly similar devices!"
"Ah! what connexion had those cards with the affair?" interrupted Dick.
"A very curious one," she responded, pale, yet now firm in her
determination to tell us everything. "Their discovery caused me a good
deal of thought, especially as the secret consultations with Mr. Blain
became more frequent when, after a fortnight or so in London, we
returned to The Hollies. One day, however, a further incident happened,
which was, to say the least, extraordinary. While alone in Madame's
bedroom the cook entered, asking for some coppers to pay for some small
article which had been brought. She wanted sevenpence. I had only
sixpence in my purse, but remembering that in the little cabinet where
Madame kept her jewels I had seen a penny on the previous day I unlocked
it and took it out. Strangely enough, this penny was wrapped up in
paper. I took it in my hand and turned it over to assure myself that it
was not any rare foreign coin, and was about to hand it to the cook when
Madame herself came in. `What's that you have?' she cried, in an
instant pale-faced in alarm. I told her that I had taken the penny from
the cabinet, whereupon she betrayed the greatest apprehension, and
snatched up a piece of paper in which she carefully re-wrapped it.
Then, telling me on no account to again touch it or open it, she gave
the cook a penny from her pocket and dismissed her. Almost next instant
I felt an indescribable numbness in the hand that had held the forbidden
coin. The fingers seemed paralysed, and I had a faint idea that I had
felt a strange roughness about the face of the copper, as though it had
been chipped. I complained to Madame of the curious feeling, whereupon
she flew to her small travelling medicine-chest, which she always kept
locked, and took therefrom a phial, from which she poured a few drops of
a dark green liquid into a glass of water. `There,' she said, betraying
quite undue alarm, I thought, `drink that. You'll be better very
quickly.' I gulped it down. It tasted very bitter, but within a
quarter of an hour I felt no further pain. My hand had in a few seconds
commenced to swell, but the medicine at once arrested it. Until long
afterwards it never occurred to me that upon that penny was one of those
insidious but most deadly of poisons known to toxicologists, which,
entering by an abrasion of the skin, would have quickly proved fatal had
not my employer at once administered an antidote. Later, I succeeded in
obtaining possession of that coin, and found upon it a series of almost
infinitesimal steel points, a puncture or scratch from any one of which
must result in death."
I recollected how we had discovered that coin in her escritoire. We
might congratulate ourselves that neither of us had held it in our hands
without its wrappings.
"For a long time I was greatly puzzled by these and other circumstances.
Certain scraps of conversation which I overheard between Madame and
Blain, and between my employer and Hartmann, increased my suspicions,
and especially so when I found Madame carrying on a series of secret
experiments in her own rooms, often boiling certain decoctions over the
tiny spirit-lamp used to heat her curling-irons. Several of the liquids
thus manufactured she placed in the tiny phials of her medicine-chest.
All this time, while passing everywhere as my mother, Lady Glaslyn, she
was extremely kind to me, until I even began to believe that my
suspicions were unfounded. Only now do I know how subtle was her
cunning, how ingenious and how daring she was. One day, in April, I,
however, had my suspicions still more deeply strengthened by a strange
request she made to me, namely, that if at any time I should chance to
witness any uncommon scene in her house, that I would breathe no word to
a single soul. This struck me as peculiar, and I demanded the reason,
whereupon she smiled, giving me bluntly to understand that my own safety
lay alone in my secrecy, and pointing out that by obtaining quantities
of goods and jewellery on credit, as I had done at her request from
firms in Regent Street and Oxford Street, in the name of Lady Glaslyn, I
had placed myself in grave peril of being arrested for fraud. I saw
instantly that this woman who had posed as my friend had most cleverly
spread about me a web from which there was now no possible escape. She
evidently desired my assistance in whatever nefarious purpose she had in
view."
"What a position!" I exclaimed. "Then the woman had compelled you to
obtain the goods by fraud in order to secure a certain hold over you?"
"Of course," she answered in a low, firm tone. "But that's not half the
craft and cunning she displayed, as you will perceive later. I know I
have acted wrongly, and should have long ago placed my suspicions before
the police, but I feared to do so, lest I should be arrested for the
fraud. From day to day I lived on in anxiety and breathless wonder,
Mrs. Blain or Blain himself being constant visitors to The Hollies,
while now and then Hartmann would come down from London, as if called in
for consultation. At length, one day in early June, we returned to the
house in Upper Phillimore Place, Madame announcing her intention to
remain there a month. Our neighbours, the Coulter-Kerrs, were delighted
at our return, for they seemed to know hardly a soul in London. After
we had been there about a week Mrs. Blain and Mary called one afternoon,
and while I chatted to the latter in the dining-room, Mrs. Blain talked
privately with Madame in the room beyond. The door was closed, as
usual, and they were conversing only in low whispers, when suddenly
their voices became raised in heated discussion. A quarrel had arisen,
for I heard Mrs. Blain exclaim quite distinctly: `I tell you I have
never dreamed of any such thing; and I'll never be a party to it. Such
a suggestion is horrifying!' Then Madame spoke some low words, to which
her companion responded: `I tell you I will not! From this moment I
retire from it. Such a thing is infamous! I never thought that it was
intended to act in such a manner.' To this Madame made some muttered
observation regarding `absurd scruples' and the impossibility of
detection, whereupon Mrs. Blain flounced forth from the room in a high
state of indignation, saying, `Mary, it's time we should go, dear, or we
shan't be home for dinner.' Then she made a cold adieu to the woman who
had been her most intimate friend, and with her daughter departed."
Eva's breath came and went rapidly in the intensity of her emotions, her
thin nostrils slightly dilated, and as she paused her lips were firmly
pressed together.
"Next morning, at about eleven, almost before Madame was ready to
receive, Blain himself called," she went on. "He was grey-faced and
very grave, but after a rather long interview he left in high spirits,
wishing me farewell quite gaily. On the following day the Coulter-Kerrs
were in great distress about their servants, for both were dishonest,
and upon Madame's declaration that she could immediately find others
they had been discharged at a moment's notice. About five o'clock that
afternoon both husband and wife, with whom I was on the most friendly
terms, came in to chat with Madame about the servants, and after we had
conversed some time tea was brought, of which we all partook. Then
Madame invited them in for whist after dinner, as was our habit, for we
were all inveterate players. About six o'clock, while I accompanied Mr.
Kerr next door in order to prepare their makeshift meal, Mrs. Kerr--
Madame always called her Anna--remained behind to make some arrangements
for one of our servants to go in temporarily. Suddenly, about twenty
minutes later, while I was in the kitchen washing some salad, I became
conscious of a strange, sharp pain which struck me across the eyes,
followed almost instantly by a kind of paralysis of the limbs and a
feeling of giddiness. I ascended to the hall, calling loudly for help,
and from the drawing-room heard Mr. Kerr's voice, hoarse and
strange-toned, in response. With difficulty I struggled up the second
flight of stairs, but on entering the room where the tiny red light
burned--some curious Indian superstition of Mrs. Kerr's--I saw in the
dusk that Kerr had fallen prone on the floor and was motionless as one
dead. Then, helpless, I tottered across to a chair, and sinking into it
all consciousness left me."
Both Boyd and myself stood breathless at these startling revelations.
"When I came to myself," she continued, "I was back in Madame's house
next door. She had forced some liquid between my lips, and was
injecting some other fluid into my arms with a hypodermic syringe. I
was amazed, too, to notice that she had changed her dress, assumed a
grey wig, and wore a cap with bright ribbons, in most marvellous
imitation of an old lady. While I thus remained on the couch in the
back sitting-room, dazed and only half conscious, there came a loud ring
at the door and I overheard a police-officer making inquiries of `Mrs.
Luff' regarding the people next door. Then I knew that Kerr's body had
been discovered, and that Madame was personating the previous occupier
of that house. I was not, however, aware at that time of how Hartmann
had called upon Madame and had carried Mrs. Kerr through a small breach
made in the fencing of the garden at the rear into her own house, or
that I had been brought back by the same way into ours. Madame, when
all was clear, went that night down to The Hollies, leaving me alone
with the servants, who, having apparently been sent out upon errands
during the events described, knew nothing. I therefore kept my own
counsel, and recollecting having overheard Blain, when taking leave of
Madame on his last visit, refer to an appointment he had with Hartmann
in St. James's Park, I resolved also to keep it. I did, but instead of
meeting him," she said, addressing me, "I met you."
"I recollect the meeting well," I answered. "Continue."
"Well, I returned to The Hollies, but it was evident from Madame's
manner that she was in deadly fear. I was not, of course, aware of what
had actually occurred, although I entertained the horrible suspicion
that both my friends had fallen victims. She took me partly into her
confidence later that day, for the police, she said, would discover an
`awkward accident' next door, and that she must not be seen and
recognised as Mrs. Luff. She told me that, in order to avoid any
unpleasant inquiries, Hartmann had entered the place before the police,
and had carried away every scrap of anything that could lead to their
identity, and as I knew from Mr. Kerr's previous conversation that all
his letters were addressed to Drummond's Bank, it seemed improbable that
the bodies would be identified. `It's a very serious matter for us,'
Madame said to me earnestly. `Therefore say nothing, either to Mrs.
Blain or Mary.' By that, and other subsequent circumstances, I knew
that both were in ignorance. They had no hand whatever in the ghastly
affair, for after the quarrel they never again met Madame.
"Weeks went by," she continued, after a pause. "I still remained on
friendly terms with Mrs. Blain and her daughter, knowing them to be
innocent. Madame never went out, but once or twice Hartmann visited
her. Whenever he did so, high words usually arose, regarding money, it
seemed, and once Blain, who by his family was supposed to be still in
Paris, came late at night, ill-dressed and dirty. It was then that I
first learnt the motive for the ingenious conspiracy. Blain seemed in
abject fear that the police had somehow established the identity of the
dead man. If so, he said, all had been futile. Hartmann, it appeared,
had a daughter whom I had never seen, and it was through her that the
activity of the police had been ascertained." Then, turning her eyes
again to me with an undisguised love-look, Eva exclaimed, "The tortures
of conscience which I suffered through those summer days when you
declared your love are known to God alone. My position was a terrible
one, for I saw that by preserving this secret I had been an accessory to
a most foul and cowardly crime, and I held back from your embrace,
knowing that one day ere long I should be arrested and brought to
punishment. I lived on, my heart gripped by that awful sin in which I
had been unwittingly implicated. Then one day you called at The Hollies
and I gave you some wine from a fresh bottle which I opened myself. It
was wine which Madame had specially ordered from the stores on my
account because the doctor had prescribed port for me. That wine was
poisoned, and you narrowly escaped death. The fatal draught was
intended for me! Hartmann and Madame Damant had, indeed, brought
poisoning to a fine art."
"Was poison never in your possession?" inquired Boyd gravely.
"Yes," she responded without a second's hesitation. "After the affair
at Phillimore Place I discovered Hartmann's address, and from a paper in
Madame's jewel-cabinet I copied some strange name--Latin, I think--which
I knew related to one of the secret poisons. Then, in order to satisfy
myself as to Hartmann's position, I went to him to obtain some. My idea
was that the information I could thus obtain would be of use if I were
arrested. I found that under the name of Morris Lowry he had for years
kept a herbalist's shop near the _Elephant and Castle_. Fortunately, by
reason of my veil, he did not recognise me, and after some haggling gave
me some greyish powder in a small wooden box securely sealed. I
discovered afterwards that his daughter was in love with your friend Mr.
Cleugh, therefore it must have been through the latter that the old man
became aware of the movements of the police."
"Yes," said Lily simply, "it was." The revelation held her dumbfounded.
"Then Hartmann and Lowry were actually one and the same?" I observed,
bewildered.
"Certainly," Eva answered, all her soul in her eyes. "But there was yet
a further curious incident. A few days after you had taken that fatal
draught from my hand, Madame, in sudden anger, discharged all three
servants. Then, when they had gone, she had a small square hole about
six inches wide cut in the wall of one of the rooms--a bathroom
adjoining my bedroom--close down to the floor, and before it was fitted
a sliding panel in the wainscoting. Afterwards she had a strong iron
bar placed upon the door, and the whole re-painted and grained. Then,
having furnished the place roughly as a living-room, there came secretly
late one night the wretched poisoner Hartmann, _alias_ Professor Douglas
Dawson, flying from the police for some previous offence, as I
afterwards discovered. Some German police-agents had got wind of his
whereabouts. He entered that room, and when he was inside Madame
fetched an apparatus I had never seen before, a kind of punch, and with
it placed a leaden seal upon the door. Fresh servants were at once
engaged, and these were told that inside that room was a quantity of
antique furniture belonging to a friend who had gone abroad. Meanwhile
Madame herself supplied the fugitive with food, cooked and uncooked,
drink and books, and for a fortnight or so he lived there in secret. I
held him in loathing and in hatred, yet I dared not utter a word or even
flee from that house of terror, knowing well that in such case I, too,
would quickly fall a victim to the machinations of what seemed a
widespread conspiracy. I was in possession of their secret, and might
turn informer. That was the reason those half-dozen bottles of port
wine had been so generously given to me by my ingenious employer. I
dared scarcely to eat or drink, and often slipped out secretly and
bought cooked meat and bread to satisfy my hunger. One day, when Madame
had ventured up to London, I chanced to enter the bedroom I had
previously occupied. The panel was cautiously pushed back, and the man
within asked for something to drink. I answered that I only had some
port, all the rest being locked up. `Then give me that,' he said. I
hesitated, then in sudden desperation I went to the cupboard where the
wine was and handed him an unopened bottle. He gave a grunt of
satisfaction, and the panel closed. That wine, Frank," she added, a
deathlike pallor on her cheeks, "was the same as that of which you
partook. Madame had prepared it with her little syringe as she had done
the Benedictine."
She paused, placing her hand upon her panting breast.
"When she returned," she continued at last, for the nervousness which
had agitated her at first gave place to strength and confidence, "her
first question was of Hartmann. I told her of his request, and how I
had acceded to it, giving him a bottle of the wine she had so generously
ordered for me. She grew livid in an instant, and stood speechless,
glaring at me as though she would strike me dead. Then rushing up to
the room she drew back the panel and called him by name. There was no
response. In an instant she knew the truth. Without uttering a single
word to me, but ordering the servants to close the house as we were
going away for a week or two, she made instant preparations for
departure, and after seeing everything securely bolted and barred, she
left with a trunk on a cab for Fulwell Station, while I, with my small
trunk, took refuge with my friends the Blains, with whom I have since
remained."
"But the motive of that secret assassination at Phillimore Place?" I
asked, astounded at her story.
"Only within the past few days have I discovered it," she answered.
"The crime was planned with extraordinary care and forethought. If it
were not for this confession which you have wrung from me, the police
would never, I believe, have elucidated the mystery. The reason briefly
was this. Coulter-Kerr was an Englishman living in Calcutta, who had
been left a great indigo estate in the North-West by his uncle, and had
returned to England with a view of selling it to a company. The estate,
one of the finest in the whole of India, realised a very handsome
income, but both he and his wife preferred life in England. Blain,
being a speculator and promoter of companies, besides an importer of
wines, having been introduced to him, conceived a plan of obtaining this
magnificent estate, and with that object had approached Hartmann who in
his turn had enlisted the services of Madame Damant, both of them being
very desperate characters. Hartmann lived in London, and was supposed
to be the most expert toxicologist in the whole world, while Madame was
a woman whose previous adventures had earned for her great renown in
certain shady circles on the Continent.
"Blain, it appeared, had already been out to India to visit the estate,
and on his return had paid a couple of thousand pounds deposit, agreeing
to purchase it privately of Kerr for two hundred thousand pounds--the
valuation made upon it by a valuer whom he had taken up with him from
Bombay--and then to turn it into a company. A date was arranged when
the money should be paid over at the house in Phillimore Place in
exchange for the deeds duly executed, Hartmann, in whose experiments
Kerr was so interested, to be present to witness any document necessary.
In accordance with Blain's request the deeds were therefore prepared
beforehand and executed, and all the papers relating to the transaction
placed in order in the large deed-box in which they had been brought
from India. In accordance with the cunningly-devised plan, Blain called
upon the Kerrs on the afternoon arranged--the afternoon of the day of
the tragedy--and found Kerr ready with all the legal papers and receipts
duly executed. Blain, however, was profuse in his apologies, stating
that, owing to some slight difficulty with his bank, he was unable to
draw that day, but would do so on the day following, and would return at
the same hour. The Kerrs, on their part, expressed regret that they
could not ask him to remain to dinner, but explained that they had no
servants."
Again she paused. Her story held us all speechless.
"I have already explained how the Kerrs afterwards visited me and took
tea, and the terrible tragedy which followed. Hartmann was, without
doubt, concealed in that house at the time, watching for the unfortunate
man's end, and without delay secured the deed-box and all the receipts
and papers, carrying them next door, searching the body of the man, and
placing certain things in his pockets, namely, the forged banknotes and
the penny wrapped in paper, which would puzzle the police, while Blain
had caused that same evening to be posted from the _Grand Hotel_ in
Paris, a letter to the man now dead, addressed to Drummond's Bank,
expressing satisfaction at the termination of the negotiations, and
acknowledging the safe receipt of the deeds and transfers from the
messenger he had sent. This was, of course, to carry out the fiction
that for several weeks he had been in Paris on business connected with
the floating of the company, and to enable him to prove an _alibi_ if
ever required. Blain, when in India, took good care that it should be
widely known that he intended to purchase the estates, so that his
sudden possession would not be considered strange. There was a man, it
afterwards transpired, who was actually staying at the _Grand_ in Paris
in the name of Blain, and he had posted the letter, while I further
discovered that this ingenious swindler had actually borrowed the sum of
two hundred thousand pounds for three days to pass through his bank, so
that he might show that he had paid for the property."
"Then Blain is in actual possession of the deeds, which only require the
stamp of the courts in India for the property to become his?" Boyd
observed.
"Yes," responded my beloved. "But the fear that you have discovered the
dead man's identity has hitherto prevented him taking possession or
raising money on the deeds. He has placed them somewhere in safety, I
suppose, and is now most likely out of the country."
"Absolutely astounding!" I gasped. Then, on reflection, I inquired the
meaning of the cards which had so puzzled us.
"Horrible though it may seem," she said, "they were used to cast lots as
to who should actually administer the poison, being shuffled and dealt
face downwards. There were fifty, only two of which were marked. It
was, I have learnt, the mode in which the Anarchists of Zurich cast
lots, the person receiving the one with the line to commit the crime,
while whoever received the circle became the accomplice and protector.
With grim disregard for consequences these very cards were afterwards
used by the assassins and their victims to decide upon partners for
whist, sometimes being placed beneath the plates at dinner when, on
entering the room, the guests were allowed to choose their places,
afterwards turning up their cards. This gave rise sometimes to great
amusement. What would the unfortunate pair have thought could they have
known the truth? Alas! I did not know it until too late, or I would
have given them warning, regardless of the consequences."
Boyd briefly explained how he had seen Blain throw something into the
lake in St. James's Park, whereupon Eva suggested that the object he
thus got rid of was no doubt one of the poisoned coins with which
Hartmann had supplied him at his request.
I referred to the incident of the telephone, and Eva explained how she
had since discovered that Blain had made an inquiry by telephone, in
full belief that it was Hartmann who had responded. When next day he
discovered his mistake he saw how narrowly he had escaped the police.
Mary's letter to me had, no doubt, been a coincidence, but her
subsequent visit was at her mother's instigation, it having been
discovered that I was aware of the terrible tragedy.
"You received some type-written letters?" Boyd observed. "Who wrote
them?"
"Blain," she replied, surprised that he should be aware of this. "He
knew that I had discovered the secret, and wrote urging me to take the
utmost precautions to preserve what he guardedly referred to as the
Silence."
"But you say that Madame herself took tea with her victims?" I said.
"She did not suffer."
"Certainly not," responded my beloved. "In her expert hand these
poisons, discovered by Hartmann, may be fatal to one person and
perfectly harmless to another. She no doubt drank some prophylactic
first, which at once counteracted any ill effect of poison taken
afterwards. Hartmann seems to have re-discovered the secrets dead with
the Borgias, for Madame can, I believe, secrete a swift and deadly
poison within almost anything."
"Where is she now?" asked Boyd quickly. "We must take immediate steps
for her arrest, as well as Blain's."
"Madame has flown to the Continent, but where I have no idea," she
replied. "To-night I intended to go to Paris and try to obtain a
situation as governess, for I feared to remain longer in England,
knowing of the body of Hartmann lying in that closed room at the
Hollies."
"You must remain," Boyd said quietly. "Your evidence will be required."
"Ah, no! I cannot," she declared, bursting into a torrent of tears.
"After this confession I--" and her voice was choked by sobs as she
covered her haggard face with her hands.
"After this confession, darling," I said tenderly, "I love you none the
less."
Then, clasping her swaying figure to me in wild ecstasy, I felt the
swell of her bosom against my breast, and I covered her cold,
tear-stained cheeks with passionate kisses, while she, for the first
time, raised her sweet full lips to mine in a fervid, passionate caress,
and murmured that she loved me.
Ah! what joy was mine at that moment. A new life had been renewed
within me, for I knew that by the sacred bond of an undying affection
she was bound to me for ever.