BUSINESS AFFAIRS
An astonished silence ensued. The lawyer's observation was so very
unexpected, that no one knew exactly how to reply. Mr. Barras did
not look like a man inclined to jest, being lean-faced, dour, and
clean-shaven, with a thin-lipped mouth, and scanty iron-grey hair. His
severe black eyes peered sternly at the world from under shaggy grey
eyebrows, and he constantly appeared to hold the attitude of a hanging
judge, sentencing a criminal to the gallows. Barras was not popular
with his fellows, but he had the name of an extremely honest man, and
was supposed to be aggressively just. Also he was deliberately
cautious in expressing an opinion; therefore it was scarcely to be
wondered at, that his late remark considerably startled the three
people who had assembled to hear the will read. Being a woman, Clarice
was the first of the trio to recover the use of her tongue, and spoke
indignantly.
"What do you mean by that, Mr. Barras?" she demanded, breathlessly.
"Exactly what I say, Miss Baird; and I would have you remark that I
addressed myself to Dr. Jerce here, who has not yet replied."
"You take me by surprise, Barras," said Jerce, with a shrug. "All I
can reply is that Horran was the most strictly honest man of my
acquaintance. Had he not been so, the late Mrs. Baird would hardly
have chosen him as her executor, or as the guardian of her children."
"Exactly," said the lawyer again, and opened his portentous black bag.
"But the question is, may not the late Mrs. Baird have been mistaken
as to the true character of the man?"
"Your own client?" said Clarice, indignantly.
"I am a man, as well as a lawyer," retorted Barras, coldly.
"Still, Uncle Henry, whom every one liked--"
"Popularity implies weakness, to my mind, Miss Baird. Strength has its
enemies, I have always found."
"What do you think, Ferdy?" asked Clarice, staggered by the lawyer's
air of conviction.
"About Uncle Henry? Oh, it's all rot. He was one of the best, even
though we didn't get on over well."
"There, Mr. Barras," said Clarice, with an air of triumph.
He took no notice of her, but produced from his bag a sheaf of
important-looking documents. "I had better read the will," said
Barras, coldly.
"One moment," broke in Jerce, as Barras unfolded a sheet of parchment
with a judicial air. "We must tell you about the death, and--"
"I have heard everything," interrupted the lawyer, mounting his golden
pince-nez. "I have read all that was to be read in the papers."
"And you think?--"
"I think that my late client was the eighth victim of the Purple Fern
series, murdered by the surviving villain."
"And the motive?" questioned Miss Baird, suddenly.
"The same motive that brought about the death of the other victims,"
was the solicitor's cold reply--"wealth, or, if you like, robbery."
"I don't agree with you. Nothing was taken from the room."
"How do you know?"
"Because I know everything that is in the room, and nothing is
missing. That is plain enough."
"On the face of it," admitted Barras, "but I think that I can show you
your error."
"Do you mean to say that the motive for Uncle Henry's murder was
robbery?" asked Ferdy, sitting up from his lounging attitude.
"I do, and I have good reason to say so."
"Then explain," said Clarice, curtly, but secretly bewildered.
"I am about to do so, if you will permit me," said Barras, with his
most acid smile.
"I beg your pardon. Go on."
Mr. Barras made a short explanation before reading the will, as they
thought he was about to do. "Your parents," he began, looking at the
twins, "Mr. and Mrs. Baird, lived at Tremby Hall, a short distance out
of this town. Mr. Baird died, and left the property, which came to
about four thousand a year, more or less, solely to his wife, your
mother. When she died, the property was handed over to my late client,
Mr. Henry Horran, who acted as your guardian. For this he received,
under the late Mrs. Baird's will, five hundred a year. It was much
needed by Mr. Horran, as he was then desperately poor."
"How do you know that?" questioned Clarice, listening intently.
"I was Mrs. Baird's lawyer, and afterwards became Mr. Horran's," said
the iron-grey man, severely, "so I speak of what I know. Mr. Horran,
as I have just explained, received five hundred a year, as your
guardian. He had also, seeing that you both were infants, so to speak,
complete control of the property--that is, you each were left two
thousand a year, and it was arranged that you should come into
possession at the age of twenty-five. Meanwhile, Mr. Horran was to
look after you, educate you, and guide you."
"He did all that," said Clarice, with emotion, although Ferdy did not
openly second her speech, and wriggled uneasily.
"At five hundred a year," remarked Barras, pointedly.
"Go on--go on," said Jerce, impatiently.
"You, Mr. Baird, and you, Miss Baird, being twins, were each three
years of age when your mother died. You are now each three and twenty,
and in another two years will come into unfettered possession of four
thousand a year, divided equally. You, Mr. Baird, receive, at the age
of twenty-five, two thousand a year; and you, Miss Baird, also at the
age of twenty-five, receive the same sum, annually."
"Yes, yes," said Jerce, who appeared to be irritated by the minute way
in which the lawyer was detailing everything; "and, of course, there
is the accumulation on the income of four thousand a year, for--let me
see--twenty years, up to the present."
"That is the whole point," remarked Barras, solemnly, "but I shall
come to that point shortly. You, Mr. Baird, were allowed two hundred a
year from the age of twenty--that is for the last three years."
"Yes," snapped Ferdy, "and little enough it is."
"I quite understand that, seeing you are young and gay," said the
lawyer, drily. "Well, then, for three years you have been receiving
this allowance, which comes--I may tell you--from the letting of
Tremby Hall to those Americans. So you see, all of you, that the
income of Mr. Ferdinand Baird, coming from this outside source, so to
speak, leaves the four thousand a year intact."
Clarice heaved a weary sigh. "Why explain all this?" she asked. "We
know the most part of it."
"Quite so," said Barras, deliberately, "but you do not know all."
"All what?"
"All that I am about to tell you, if you will permit me to speak."
The girl looked at him hard. There seemed to be a great deal lurking
behind the solicitor's manner. "Go on, please," she said,
apprehensively.
"When Dr. Jerce refers to the accumulation on the income of four
thousand a year for twenty years," continued Mr. Barras, "he must not
forget, that besides the five hundred per annum to Mr. Horran, there
was also the sum required for education, for the keep of this house,
and for the clothing of the children--I allude to you two," added
Barras, looking over his pince-nez.
Ferdy nodded. "I understand and so does Clarry."
"Now, then," said Mr. Barras, having reached this point, "I shall
read the will, as you no doubt understand exactly how the monies
stand--that is, how they were left by your late mother."
"But we don't understand about the accumulations," protested Clarice.
"I am coming to that," said the lawyer, significantly. "Allow me to
conduct this conversation in my own way, so as to make everything
plain. The will--listen--the will of Mr. Henry Horran--"
"But he had nothing to leave," burst out Ferdy; "you said so."
"I did not exactly say so," said Barras, deliberately, "but it is a
fact. Since the five hundred a year ceased at Mr. Horran's death,
seeing that he could not longer continue his duties as guardian, he
certainly had nothing to leave. But the will of the late Mrs. Baird
gave him the power to appoint a new guardian."
"What a shame!" cried Ferdy, flushing; "we--Clarry and I--are old
enough to handle our own money."
"Possibly, but the will must stand," said Barras, drily, "and, after
all, as you will see, the new guardian is the best that could be
appointed. From what I have seen of this young lady"--he bowed to
Clarice--"and from the frequency with which I have come into contact
with her since Mr. Horran's illness, I am quite sure that a better
appointment could not have been made."
Ferdy started. "What has Clarry to do with it?" he demanded, angrily.
Barras took no notice, but read the will of Horran. It was short, and
to the point, containing a few legacies to servants, a disposal of his
jewellery to friends, and the appointment of Clarice Baird to the post
of guardian, which Horran's death would leave vacant. Ferdy could
scarcely contain his wrath, when Barras ceased. "Do you mean to say
that Clarry has been appointed over my head?" he asked, white with
rage; "over my head, when I am the man."
"I do say so," said Barras, quietly, "and in my opinion, Seeing what I
know of Miss Baird, it is an excellent suggestion."
"It's a shame. I should have been made guardian."
"Ferdy"--Clarice pulled the fuming youth down into his chair with a
strong hand--"you and I can talk of that later. Meanwhile, as the
appointment has been made, you can do nothing."
"I'll see a lawyer--I'll go into court--I'll--"
"You can do nothing," said Jerce, calmly and soothingly. "Horran had
the full right to appoint whom he chose, and if he thought that Miss
Baird was the most suitable person, you must accept the decision."
Ferdy sat down, silenced for once, but in a royal rage. Clarice laid
her hand on his arm, but he jerked himself angrily away, whereupon a
look of pain passed over her face. "You will not find me a hard
guardian," she said, softly; then, as he still remained sullen, she
turned to Barras. "Are there any arrangements made as to where we
shall live?" she asked.
"No," answered the solicitor, replacing the will in his bag. "You can
live here, or wherever you like. The will gives you complete control
of four thousand a year, until you reach the age of twenty-five in two
years, when you will, of course, give your brother half that income,
and then--as you know--your guardianship ceases."
"I won't have Clarice as my guardian," cried Ferdy, wrathfully. "You
must," said the girl, in a firm tone. "What is the use of going on
like this, Ferdy? The will is a good one in law."
"A very excellent will," said Barras, primly.
"A great responsibility for you, Miss Baird," said Jerce, quietly.
"I am perfectly well able to bear it, doctor," she replied, sharply.
"See here," said young Baird, suddenly, and rousing himself from a
brown study; "this will gives Clarice control of the four thousand a
year."
"Yes," answered Barras, "and, of course, your allowance of two hundred
can continue, still arising from the letting of the Hall."
"Well, then," went on Ferdy, rapidly, "the will--so far as I can see
and so far as you tell me--does not say anything about the
accumulations on the four thousand during the last twenty years."
"On two thousand, if you please, Mr. Baird," said Barras, leisurely.
"Do not forget that the late Mr. Horran received five hundred for his
services--that is annually--and that the rest of two thousand was
required for the various items I have mentioned."
"I remember," said Ferdy, hastily. "Well, then, the accumulation on
two thousand a year for twenty years must be in the bank, or invested,
and free from Clarice's control."
"No. By the will, Miss Baird would deal with the accumulations, as
well as with the income. For the next two years she receives the four
thousand a year, and what she does not spend--having full power under
both wills--she can let out at interest."
"Oh!" said Clarice, quickly. "Then two thousand of our united income
was let out at interest by Mr. Horran?"
"That I can't tell you, Miss Baird."
"But it must have been," insisted Clarice, "for Mr. Clarke--"
"My late client certainly allowed him a loan of one thousand pounds
some years ago, at ten per cent.," said Barras, politely, "but that is
all the loan I know of."
"But the rest of the money?"
"What money?" asked Jerce, suddenly.
"The two thousand a year which Uncle Henry did not spend. Even if
nothing was done with it, the amount in twenty years would increase to
forty thousand pounds."
"And that should be given to me," put in Ferdy, quickly, "seeing that
Clarry has the full income."
"Half of which is in trust for you, Mr. Baird," said Barras, in his
dry way; "but the accumulations, Miss Baird," he added, addressing
Clarice, "certainly amount to the sum you mention; and if these monies
were let out at the same rate of interest which my late client
extorted from Mr. Clarke, the amount in the banks ought to be much
greater. Unfortunately"--Mr. Barras stopped and hesitated.
"Well?" asked Clarice, impatiently. "Well, the money isn't in the
bank. I have all the books of the late Mr. Horran, and all his
business papers, but in no instance can I find what he has done with
forty thousand pounds, or with possible accumulations."
Jerce started up in dismay. "Is this the reason why you asked me if
Horran was a scoundrel?" he demanded.
"That is the reason," replied Barras, serenely. "I want to know what
has become of that money. I think I can guess, however."
"You can guess?" repeated Clarice, puzzled.
"Yes. You wondered why Mr. Horran was murdered. I answer, for the sum
of forty thousand pounds."
Barras said this so quietly, that he took away the breath of his
hearers, and they looked at one another, unable to speak. Seeing this,
Barras explained himself still further. "I collected the rents of the
Baird property," he said. "Two thousand a year I paid into the London
Bank, according to the directions of Mr. Horran, and that I can
account for, by the books and the papers, since it went in Mr.
Horran's income as guardian, in keeping up this house, and in
educational and clothing expenses. But the remaining two thousand a
year I paid personally to Mr. Horran, as it came in, and he never
accounted to me for its use. There was no reason that he should do
so," added the lawyer, coolly, "seeing that Mr. Horran had full power
under Mrs. Baird's will to deal with the estate as he chose.
Certainly, judging from Mr. Clarke's loan, which came under my notice,
I fancied that Mr. Horran might be investing the money, or letting it
out at large interest, but I can find nothing in the papers left by
the deceased likely to throw any light on its disposal."
"It is most extraordinary," said Clarice, thoughtfully. "Do you mean
to say, Mr. Barras, that Uncle Henry had forty thousand pounds in his
room when he died?"
Barras placed his finger-tips together and leaned back. "I leave it to
you, Miss Baird. Mr. Horran always insisted that I should bring to him
two thousand a year of the rents, in gold. I always, according to his
wish, paid him in gold. You sent me up the papers from his desk, and,
of course, I have all his business letters, deeds, and the rest of
such things in my office. But in no case can I find what has become of
this forty thousand pounds. When I saw in the papers that no cause
could be assigned for the murder of my late client, and recollected
that the Purple Fern villains always struck down the rich, it dawned
upon me that, instead of investing the two thousand a year, which he
regularly received--and in gold," emphasised the lawyer, "Mr. Horran
kept the money in his room, and was murdered for its possession."
"But why should he have kept the money in his room?"
"Instead of at the bank, you would say." Mr. Barras shrugged his
shoulders again. "Well, my late client must have been a miser--that is
all the explanation I can give. But I am certain that he was murdered
for the sake of that forty thousand pounds, and that it has been
stolen. And now, Dr. Jerce, you will understand why I asked you if
your friend was an honest man or a scoundrel."
"An honest man?" said Jerce, energetically. "You have supplied the
reason for the money being missed yourself. Horran may have been a
miser, although I never noticed that he was; he may have kept this
money in his room, and he may have been murdered for it."
"I would have you observe, doctor," said Barras, dryly, "that all your
sentences commence with 'may.' This is all theory."
"But if the money has been stolen," suggested Clarice, "it may be
traced in some way."
"You can't trace gold, Miss Baird, and Horran always insisted upon
having the money in gold. That is what makes me think that he was a
miser. I called him a scoundrel--if he spent the money on his own
pleasures he certainly was a scoundrel. If, on the other hand, he
merely kept the gold to enjoy looking at, and it was stolen from him
at the time of his death, he was simply a miser, and has paid, by his
painful end, for being a miser. However"--Barras stood up--"there is
no more to be said. I think that I have made myself plain, Miss Baird,
and whenever you like to come to my office, I shall talk over future
money arrangements. Meanwhile, I must prove the will, pay the death
duties and legacies, and put things straight. I shall now take my
leave."
"Will you not stop to tea or dinner, Mr. Barras?"
"No, I thank you," said the lawyer, stiffly, and, taking up his bag,
he walked in a stately manner out of the house. Ferdy rose, and after
hesitating for a moment, ran after him quickly. Jerce and Clarice were
left alone. "What will you do?" asked Jerce, slowly.
"I must ask Anthony," said Clarice, mechanically.
"Captain Ackworth?"
"Anthony," she repeated quietly, "the man I intend to marry."