LINKS IN THE CHAIN OF EVIDENCE.
After that interview with Felix I returned forthwith to London. I had
accomplished the object of my journey, and did not care about staying
longer in Paris. My mind was much perturbed, as I was quite unable to
come to any conclusion respecting the episode at the Fen Inn. Beyond
all doubt I had proved that Francis was at Marshminster, Felix in
Paris. Who, then, was the man whom I had met at the inn? It was
impossible that I could be mistaken in the identity of my college
friend, yet in the face of such evidence as I had gathered it was
ridiculous to cling to my first impressions. There could not be three
brothers exactly alike in personal appearance, and yet I had beheld
three men, at the Fen Inn, at Marshminster, and in Paris, who
resembled each other in every respect. The more I pondered over the
mystery the deeper did it become, and the more confused grew my brain.
I began to think that I was the victim of some hallucination, as I
could explain the matter in no other way. With this idea, which was
the only feasible one left to me, I took the advice of Felix and on my
return to town went to see Dr. Merrick. He, a specialist on diseases
of the brain, listened to my story with great attention, and
questioned me closely on all points.
"There is some trickery about this, Mr. Denham," he said, after
consideration.
"You do not, then, think my meeting with Francis Briarfield was an
hallucination?" I asked eagerly.
"There is no hallucination about you, sir," was the comforting
response; "you seem to me as sane and matter of fact a person as I
have ever met."
"Then, if it is not hallucination, how do you account for my having
met three men all exactly alike, when I know there are only two with
that special appearance in existence?"
"I think it is trickery," repeated Merrick, nursing his chin. "This is
more a case for a detective than for a doctor. Were I you, Mr. Denham,
I would employ a good detective, and probe the mystery thoroughly. The
matter seems miraculous to you now, but I feel sure when you learn the
solution you will be astonished at its simplicity."
"If I am sane, as you say, and as I believe myself to be, I will
thrash out the matter myself."
"Better get a trained man, Mr. Denham. From what you have told me I
see you have to deal with a criminal of no ordinary intelligence. It
is an extraordinary case," mused the doctor, "and I do not wonder at
the fascination it seems to exercise over you. Were I in your
place----"
"Were you in my place?" seeing he hesitated.
"Here am I setting up for a lawyer," said Merrick quaintly. "To tell
you the honest truth, Mr. Denham, you have inoculated me with
detective fever. I should like to solve this problem myself. Criminal
investigation has always been rather a hobby of mine. In my business I
meet with some queer experiences. There are more insane people in the
world than you think."
"Tell me your ideas, doctor, and I'll carry them out, and report
progress."
"Good! I'll be the sleeping partner," he said in an amused tone; "but
I warn you, Mr. Denham, that from what I see of this case it will be
one of great difficulty, and may take months to work out."
"I don't mind that; it is nothing to an idle man like myself; but I am
afraid, Dr. Merrick, I take up your valuable time."
"Oh, I can spare a few minutes," said the doctor quickly. "I work hard
enough, so it is permitted to even a professional man to indulge
occasionally in some amusement. This case is so to me."
"Well, and your idea?"
"In the first place, I am inclined to agree with your ideas of Felix
passing himself off as Francis."
"I have abandoned that idea," said I dolefully; "I saw Felix in
Paris."
"Wait a moment," replied Merrick, "we'll come to that later on.
Furthermore, I believe it was Felix you met at Marshminster--Felix,
who called himself Francis, and posed as the lover of Miss Bellin."
"But I saw him in Paris," said I, again clinging to that undeniable
fact.
"I know you did, but the pretended Francis of Marshminster, and the
real Felix of Paris, are one and the same person."
"You mean that he followed me over?" I cried, suddenly enlightened.
"Precisely, and suborned the manager of the Hôtel des Étrangers."
"But why should he do that?"
"Can't you see?" said Merrick impatiently. "Felix wants to put a stop
to your following up this case. From your story it is quite probable
that he killed his brother through Strent. The whole circumstances of
that Lone Inn are very suspicious. Your unforeseen arrival that night
complicated matters. You saw how unwilling they were to admit you. Had
you not arrived, Francis would have vanished from the world, and none
would have been a bit the wiser. But when you came to Bellin Hall,
Felix saw a new source of danger, not only to his character, but to
his life. He asked for a night's grace. During that night he went
himself to the Fen Inn, and hid the corpse in some boghole."
"Impossible!"
"I'll stake my life that it is so," said Merrick calmly. "Make
inquiries as to the movements of Felix Briarfield on that night, and
I'll lay anything you'll find he went to the Fen Inn."
"That, then," said I, "was the reason he was so ready to go there next
morning with me."
"Exactly! He knew well, thanks to his forethought, that there was no
evidence there to convict him of a crime, and he could still keep up
his imposture. So far all was in his favor, but your obstinacy raised
a new danger. You said you would go to Paris and satisfy yourself of
the existence of Felix. Now, then, you remained two days in London.
"Yes; I was not quite sure whether it was worth while carrying on the
matter."
"It was a pity you wasted so much time," said Merrick, "for Felix took
advantage of your negligence to slip over to Paris, and lay a trap for
you. In plain words, he disappeared from Marshminster as Francis, and
reappeared in Paris as Felix."
"He might have done so! But don't you think I would have guessed the
identity of the one with the other?"
"How could you," said the doctor, "when the twins are alike in every
respect? And, moreover, you firmly believed Olivia Bellin's lover was
in Marshminster."
"But if I go down at once to Marshminster, I'll detect the absence of
Felix, and so guess what has taken place."
"If you go down to Marshminster, you'll find Felix back again in his
old place."
"Then Paris?" I queried uneasily. I was beginning to see I had been
duped.
"You forget Mr. Felix of Paris has gone to Italy and left no address.
It's all safe there, and, as he said he was going to the East for six
months or so, there will be plenty of time for the pretended Francis
to marry Olivia."
"You don't believe that Felix of Paris has gone to Italy or the East?"
"Of course not! I believe he arranged all these matters to baffle your
prying, and then calmly returned to Marshminster."
"But the manager of the hotel?"
"He is in the pay of Felix. You'll get nothing out of him. Now, I am
certain that is the explanation. Are you not surprised at its
simplicity?"
"Yes, I am! It is astonishing I never thought of it before."
"Columbus and his egg once again," said Merrick grimly. "Well, what
are you going to do next?"
"To drive to Marshminster, and find out the movements of Felix on the
night after the murder."
"Quite so; but first satisfy yourself on the subject of Francis."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"What day of the month were you at the Fen Inn?" continued Merrick.
"On the 10th of June."
"Good! Francis there told you that he had just arrived from Chili.
Now, find out what boat he came by, look up his name in the passenger
list, and ascertain the date on which the true Francis arrived in
England. That point established, you can prove the false Francis to be
an impostor."
"An excellent idea," said I, starting to my feet. "I'll see about it
at once."
"And mind," said Merrick, raising his forefinger, "I expect to be kept
fully advised of the case."
"Never fear, doctor. You are excellent at solving puzzles. When I find
another nut, I'll bring it to you to crack."
"Do! I take a great interest in this sort of cases. I ought to have
been a lawyer instead of a doctor."
"I'm thankful for my own sake you are the latter," said I, shaking his
hand. "Good-by, doctor; I am greatly obliged for the kind interest you
have taken in this case."
"Pure selfishness, I assure you," replied Merrick; and so I took my
leave.
Before searching the shipping lists I sent two telegrams--one to the
manager of the Hôtel des Étrangers, asking if Mr. Felix Briarfield was
still there; the other to my aunt Jane, inquiring whether Mr. Francis
Briarfield was in Marshminster. This business having been dispatched,
I took a hansom to the City, and saw a merchant of my acquaintance. He
was an old friend, and willing to oblige me in every way.
"Chambers," said I, when in his office, "I want to find out a ship
that arrived in London from Chili during the present month."
"During June," said Chambers. "Well, there's no difficulty about that.
What is her name?"
"That is one of the things I wish to find out; also the names of the
passengers."
"Come with me to the Jerusalem," said Chambers, picking up his hat;
"you'll find there her name and agents. Go to the agents and they will
supply you with a list of the passengers. What's up now?"
"Nothing particular," I answered carelessly. "I have reason to believe
a friend of mine returned from South America this month, and I want to
make certain."
"Well, if he came under his own name, you'll have no difficulty in
doing so. Here's the Jerusalem!"
This, it is well known, is a shipping club for the convenience of
merchants. It tells them all about ingoing and outgoing vessels, gives
information regarding cargoes, and, in fact, supplies all kinds of
knowledge useful to those who have argosies afloat. Chambers was well
acquainted with the mode of procedure, so I let him do all the work.
It was now the 16th of June, and, as Francis had informed me he had
arrived during the month, there was not much difficulty in finding
what I wanted.
"Here you are," said Chambers, beckoning to me; "only one ship this
month from Chili--a steamer, the _Copiapo_. Arrived on the 6th of
June. Dane & Paxton, 45 Devereux Lane."
I copied this down in my notebook, refused Chambers' hospitable
invitation to luncheon, and went off at once to Devereux Lane. Here I
had no difficulty in seeing the passenger list of the _Copiapo_, and
one of the first names I set my eyes on was "Francis Briarfield."
"This puts the matter beyond all doubt," said I, making a note of
this; "if Francis Briarfield did not arrive in London till the 6th of
this month, he cannot be the man now bearing his name at Bellin Hall."
I was now perfectly satisfied that Merrick's idea was correct. In
order to confuse and throw me off the scent Felix had followed me to
Paris, and appeared _in propria persona_. But for the doctor's
suggestion of the shipping list I should not have been able to prove
this, but now I held incontrovertible evidence in my hands to prove
that Felix was trading on the marvelous resemblance between his
brother and himself. Francis had arrived in England on the 6th of
June, he had met me at the Fen Inn on the 10th, and had there been
foully done to death by his brother through a third party. But I was
now on the trail and hoped to run to earth both the unnatural brother
and his vile tool. I felt like the hero of some wild romance.
On returning to my rooms in Duke Street I wrote off at once to
Merrick, telling him of my success in proving the identity of Francis
with the man who had been slain at the lone inn. It now remained for
me to go down to Marshminster and there make inquiries as to the
movements of Felix on the night in question. I felt confident that I
could pursue such a search without hindrance, as he would be quite
satisfied that I would now rest after the Paris episode. No man in his
senses would search for a dead man when that man had been conclusively
proved to be alive. So Felix doubtless thought, and rejoiced in his
cleverness in thus putting an end to my inquiries. But mark how
ironical is Fate. Felix advised me to consult a doctor about my
hallucination, as he chose to call it. I took that advice and saw
Merrick. Merrick had nullified all his plans by solving the riddle
with which Felix was trying to baffle me.
It was hard on Felix to thus be the means of pointing the way to his
own destruction. But, then, Fate is so ironical.
That afternoon I received answers to my telegrams. The first, from
Paris, stated that Mr. Felix Briarfield had started for Italy; the
second, from Marshminster, informed me that Francis Briarfield was
staying at Bellin Hall.
"No," said I, on reading these telegrams, "Felix Briarfield did not
leave Paris for Italy, but for Marshminster, and Francis Briarfield,
poor soul, is not at Bellin Hall, but lying in the Essex marshes."
That night at five o'clock I left for Marshminster.