HERRICK IS SUSPICIOUS
Dr. Jim slept very little that night. He was turning over in his mind
Joyce's strange conduct. Now that he remembered, Robin had been very
particular as to the details of his whereabouts. He had gone to Town
on a Tuesday leaving Herrick at the Southberry Railway Inn. According
to his story he had seen Frith and Frith the same afternoon, and again
the next morning. The intervening night he had slept at the Hull Hotel
in a side Street off the Strand. Then on Wednesday afternoon, he had
rejoined Dr. Jim at Southberry and on Thursday morning had started to
cross the Heath. It was on that same night, that the two had
discovered the body of Colonel Carr. So far Herrick had believed this
story.
But now, the fact that he had not called on the lawyers had put a
different complexion on the affair. Also his statement concerning the
money left to him was proved--by the evidence of the solicitors who
paid the annuity--to be a lie. Robin therefore had not been so deeply
plunged in grief as he appeared to be, when he could call a few days
after his mother's death to see if he was to inherit the money.
Herrick considered that probably when alone in the flat he had found
some paper stating that the five hundred a year terminated at his
mother's death, and had gone to Frith and Frith in order to ascertain
if this were true. Besides his mother might have told him this on her
deathbed. But what else had she told him? Colonel Carr was not the man
to pay out money for nothing. Mrs. Joyce must have had some hold over
him.
However the main point, and that which vexed Dr. Jim most, was the
fact that Robin had not called on the solicitors, as he said he had
done. At Southberry he had received a letter calling him up to town.
Jim had not read the letter, but since Robin had told him the contents
he never doubted that it was from the firm of Frith. If he had not
called on them, why was the letter sent, and where was he during the
two days he was in Town? Herrick reckoned back the dates. It was
Thursday the twenty-sixth of July when they arrived at Saxham. Robin
had gone to Town on the twenty-fourth, and on that same night Colonel
Carr (according to the medical evidence) had been shot.
"Good Heavens!" said Jim when this came into his mind, "can it be
possible that Joyce killed the man? There is no reason why he should.
I am a suspicious fool. He was in London even though he did not call
on the solicitors. There is no proof that he was at Saxham. He said
himself when he went through the Pine wood that he did not know the
country."
Then Jim recollected that it was Robin who had selected the route for
the walking tour. Could it be possible that he knew of the existence
of the House in the Pine Wood, and had designedly led Herrick that way
in order that the murder should be discovered, and suspicion averted
from himself? "No! No!" Cried Jim tossing and turning, "he could not
have contrived so damnable a scheme. Besides he slept at the Hull
Hotel."
In this way he kept arguing out the situation, but by the morning he
had come to no conclusion. The evidence against Robin was not strong
enough. But while shaving Dr. Jim made up his mind to call on Frith
and Frith, and also to look in at the Hull Hotel. Nevertheless
whatever he found, he resolved to hold his tongue so far as Robin was
concerned. Joyce was far too intimate with Don Manuel to please
Herrick. And Don Manuel, as the doctor remembered professed a hatred
of Carr. He also might have something to do with the matter.
"Stephen" said Herrick at breakfast, "I want you to look after
yourself again to-day. I have business to do."
"All right," replied Marsh, "I can amuse myself. There is The National
Gallery to see; and the Tower, and Westminster Abbey. I should only
bore you taking you to these places."
"I am never bored in your company," said Jim absently, his thoughts
intent on what he had to do, "but I shall be at your service
to-morrow.
"You have to see about your practice I suppose Herrick?"
"Yes. Also some other business. How long do you want to stay in Town?"
"A week is enough for the present," replied Marsh, "we came for two,
did we not? I have got all the clothes, I need. They will be ready by
the end of this week; then we can go back. You want to return?"
"Yes! I have an idea in my head. Later on I will tell it to you."
Marsh turned to ask what Herrick meant but seeing that his friend was
taken up with his own thoughts, he said nothing. After breakfast Jim
left Marsh to look over the morning paper, and went out.
The first place he sought out was the lawyer's office. Mr. Frith the
junior partner received him, all the more readily, when he heard the
name. On the previous day, Stephen had been enthusiastic on the
subject of his new friend. Frith junior took to Jim at once.
"I am glad to see you," he said pushing forward a chair, "Mr.
Marsh-Carr told us all about you. I am glad he has had the good sense
to select you as a companion. He needs shaking up."
"Marsh is a good fellow," replied Jim, "and anything I can do to make
a man of him shall be done. But the material is there, Mr. Frith."
"Yes! But that step-mother of his did a great deal to ruin him. He
could not call his soul his own. I do not think her death is much to
be regretted," finished Frith with a dry smile.
"She was rather stormy, but I think she really loved her step-son.
What are you smiling at?"
"I was recalling one or two interviews I had with the lady in
question," said the young lawyer. "She was, as you say, stormy. Even
the Colonel was afraid of her, so he sent her up to us."
"What did she come about?"
"An annuity for herself and an income for her son, the present owner
of the estate. Colonel Carr refused to allow her one penny. He said
that he had made his will in favour of Stephen Marsh, and that both he
and Mrs. Marsh could wait until his death. I tried hard to persuade
him to allow her something but he refused. Mrs. Marsh used to come up
and make scenes in this office. Stormy!" chuckled Frith. "I should
think she was."
"What was your opinion of Colonel Carr?"
"Well," drawled the lawyer with a quick glance, "that is rather a
leading question. The man is dead, and he was a good client to us. But
speaking as man to man and in confidence doctor, I think he was the
greatest scoundrel in the Three Kingdoms."
"That's rather strong Mr. Frith."
"Yet it falls short of the truth Dr. Herrick. However the man is dead,
so we may leave him at rest. He met with a terrible death, and his own
familiar friend put an end to him. The Colonel had not much human
feeling but when dying he must have felt a pang at the thought that
the only creature he had been kind to was putting him out of the way."
"Humph!" said Jim using his favourite ejaculation, "do you believe
that Frisco did kill him?"
"I do not know anyone else who could have done so. And if he did not,
why did he run away? Why does he keep hidden? Yes, Dr. Herrick, I think
the crime can be safely put down to his account. Queer man too," added
Frith reflectively, "he was slangy and a good bit of a brute, yet
there was something of the gentleman about him. He could speak good
English when he chose, which was not often."
"The Colonel brought him from South America?"
"Did he now?" said Frith sharply, "I never knew that before. Frisco at
times came up about Carr's business but he was careful to say nothing
about himself. He seemed fond of his master. That is why it is so
strange he should have killed him. But then we know that the collie,
which is the most faithful of dogs, goes mad at times and attacks his
master. I expect it was something of the same kind with Frisco."
"Do you know how the Colonel made his money?" asked Herrick.
"No! nor does anyone else that I know of. I am certain of one thing,
that it was made in some shady way. Carr was an out and out bad lot. A
kind of Captain Kidd."
"Strange that you should mention his name in conjunction with Kidd. He
had a treasure likewise, had he not?"
"What do you mean by 'had a treasure likewise?'"
Herrick considered a minute before replying. As a rule he was not a
man given to loose speaking, and preferred to do his own work without
the assistance of any one. But he saw that Frith was a shrewd and
capable man, and that in case of need, his advice was not to be
despised. So far as Joyce was concerned, Jim did not intend to say
anything at present, as he was not yet sure of his ground and even had
he been sure, he would have hesitated to betray his friend, however
guilty he might be. Concerning Don Manuel, he had no such scruples, so
he then and there told the lawyer all that had passed at the flat.
Frith listened attentively, but seemed in no way astonished.
"It is the sort of thing one would expect from Carr," he said. "The
man was a bad lot, and I daresay if we knew all the details of that
expedition we should find it less innocent than this Mexican has
depicted. Still, leaving the man amongst the Indians was bad enough.
So that was how he made his money. I always knew it was not made in
any respectable way."
"Few fortunes are," said Herrick dryly.
"That is true; but some methods may be more damnable than others, as
in this case. Carr I know went away many years ago, as poor as a rat.
I have heard my father speak of him. He came back ten years ago with
no end of money. We helped him to invest it. As the income is eight
thousand a year Dr. Herrick, you may guess what the principal amounted
to. Treasure-hunting sounds innocent enough, even romantic, but in
Carr's hands I can guess what a piece of rascality it was. The man
could not run straight. If there was a possibility of going the wrong
way, he took that in preference to following the right path."
"Still," said Herrick approaching the main object of his visit, "the
man had some good points. For instance, he was charitable to Mrs.
Joyce."
"Of West Kensington?" said Frith with a stare. "How did you know about
her."
"Joyce is a friend of mine. I was with him on a walking-tour when he
received your letter asking him to call."
"Nonsense. We never wrote the man a letter in our lives!"
"Not on or about the twenty-third of July?"
"No! I am positive. I should have known. It is true that he called to
see us a few days after his mother's death, about the annuity which
Carr ordered to be paid to Mrs. Joyce. He wanted to know if he would
have it also. We communicated with Colonel Carr, who replied in his
characteristic way that Joyce could go to the devil. Afterwards Joyce
called a second time and we told him the message."
"The second time was on the twenty-fourth of July?"
"No! It was towards the end of April. We have not seen him since, nor,
as I say, have we written him any letter."
This concise explanation showed Herrick that Robin for reasons of his
own had told a deliberate lie. Whatever he had come to London about,
it was not to see the Solicitors as he had alleged to Herrick. Dr. Jim
pulled his moustache reflectively. "Why was an annuity paid to Mrs.
Joyce?"
"I don't know," replied Frith, "and even if I did, it would be a
breach of professional etiquette to tell you. A year after the Colonel
came back to England--about nine years ago--he ordered my father to
send a monthly cheque to Mrs. Joyce at an address at Hampstead. She
sent a receipt every time, but she never came to see us, and we had
absolutely nothing to do with her. When she changed her address, which
she did several times, she notified the fact and we sent her allowance
to the new place. That is all I know of the annuity. And as I say the
Colonel stopped it when she died. What it was for, I don't know. The
Colonel was dark in many ways."
"He was evidently a most dangerous person," said, Herrick rising to
take his leave. "However he has received the reward of his crimes. By
the way I suppose all the business of Marsh is in your hands?"
"Yes! It is all in order. The Colonel was a most methodical man, and
left his estate in the best of conditions. We are now arranging for
letters patent for this change of name. Our client has arranged to
call himself Marsh-Carr. I suppose he did not like the idea of Carr
alone."
"Can you wonder at it considering the reputation of the name?"
"No! not a very nice name to give one's wife," laughed Frith rising.
"Well good-bye Dr. Herrick. I am glad to have seen you, and still more
glad to think that our client has so excellent a friend at his elbow."
Herrick laughed at this praise and departed, very pleased that he had
been received in so friendly a way. He fancied at one time that Frith
might have looked upon him as an interloper, and it was a great
compliment to him, that these shrewd lawyers should be so satisfied
with Stephen's choice of a friend.
From the city Herrick went to the Strand in search of the Hull Hotel.
He was now very doubtful of Robin's honesty. If the man had lied in
one thing he would in another. Jim was quite prepared to find that
Joyce was not known at the Strand public-house, but in this instance
he proved to be wrong. Directed by a friendly policeman, he soon found
the place. It was a small pot-house of anything but a reputable
appearance. Herrick stepped inside, and was confronted by a stout
woman with a squint. In answer to his inquiry for the landlord, she
announced that the house belonged to her, and demanded his business.
Herrick seeing the necessity for caution went about his task in an
artful way.
"There was a friend of mine who stayed here on the night of the
twenty-fourth of July last," he said. "He wrote to me from this place
on that date, and as I have received no letter since, I have come to
inquire if he is still to be found here?"
"What is his name sir?"
"Mr. Robin Joyce."
"Don't know it," grunted the landlady. "Robin Joyce," she rubbed her
nose, and then shouted. "Tilda! Do you know a party as stayed here
called Robin Joyce? Look up the books--twenty-fourth July."
A smart-looking girl dressed in a tawdry manner made her appearance
and requested her mother (the stout lady was her mother it appeared)
not to make such a noise. Then she addressed herself to Herrick. "I
need not look at the books sir. I remember Mr. Robin Joyce quite well.
A little man is he not--clean-shaven--with rather long hair and big,
big black eyes. Nervous manner sir."
"That is him," replied Herrick thankful to hear that his friend was
known at the address he had given. "He slept here on the night of the
twenty-fourth of July."
"Beg your pardon sir, but he did nothing of the sort. He came here
after mid-day with a black bag and engaged a room. Then he went out
almost at once, promising to be back to dinner. It was ordered, but he
never came. No sir, I did not see him until mid-day next morning."
"You are certain he did not sleep here on that night."
"Quite certain sir. You remember mother, he told both of us when he
came back that he had been staying with a friend."
"Yes! I remember now. Then he paid his bill and went away, to catch a
train, he said."
"The Paddington train," put in the daughter. "I heard him tell the
cabby to drive to Paddington."
Herrick thanked the two women for their information, and asked if Mr.
Joyce had been there since. Both were positive he had not. "I saw him
only once sir and he did not sleep here," were the last words of the
daughter. So Herrick departed fully convinced that Robin had told him
a second lie. Naturally the little man never thought that anything
would happen likely to induce Herrick to make enquires. Nor would such
have been the case, but for Stephen's remark about the annuity.
"The question now," said Herrick to himself, "is whether he was at
Saxham on that night. If I can prove that--" he shook his head, and
acknowledged that things were beginning to look black against Joyce.
For the moment he almost made up his mind to go at once to West
Kensington and tell Joyce the whole story, demanding at the same time
an explanation of these--apparently unnecessary lies. But on second
thoughts he resolved to wait until he could make certain that Joyce
had gone down to Saxham. Robin would probably take the afternoon train
to Beorminster. In that case however he would have had to change at
Southberry Junction and as Herrick was at the Junction he might not
risk doing so. There was Heathcroft of course. That was six miles from
Saxham, and could be reached by another line. He might have gone that
way and walked the six miles. "But I cannot say anything for certain
until I make enquiries," thought Herrick and so resolved to wait until
he returned to "The Pines" with Marsh.
The next two or three days Herrick spent with Stephen. Not a word did
he say about the business he had been employed upon. He did not even
speak of Joyce, tried not to think of him, but gave himself up to the
enjoyment of the moment. Owing to his recent bereavement Stephen would
not go to any theatre, but the two managed to find amusement in
exploring London. With the greatest good humour, Herrick permitted
himself to be dragged to the Tower, the Abbey, and to several other
places which Stephen had already visited. Also there was much shopping
to do, clothes to be tried on, and all kinds of fascinating things to
be bought. Stephen purchased a selection of presents for the Biffs,
and made Herrick help him to choose them. They arranged to go back at
the week's end, when "The Pines" would be ready to receive them.
"I expect it is all in order by this time," said Stephen, "and Ida
promised to see after the servants for me. Bess is superintending the
whole business. I have told her to do exactly as she pleases, and
there is nothing she likes better. We shall find the place in
apple-pie order when we go back."
"Why do you not marry Miss Bess?" said Herrick laughing.
"I like Bess very much, but she is not the wife for me," said Stephen
seriously. "Ida is better suited to me."
Herrick felt a pang of jealousy. What chance had he against this
wealthy favourite of fortune. Then he rebuked himself for the
ungrateful feeling and swore if he saw the least love existing between
Marsh and Ida that he would at once crush down his own passion. As yet
(as he had told Joyce) it was not very strong; but in the sunshine of
Ida's beauty and charm, it might easily assume gigantic proportions.
If it did, and Stephen loved her, why then good-bye to his income. For
Herrick felt that under the circumstances the situation would be so
unbearable that he would be forced to leave Saxham. If Stephen would
only say definitely if he loved the girl Herrick would know how to
act. At present he was quite in the dark. Still until he could be
quite sure he judged it wiser to hold himself well in hand.
Later on it occurred to him that he would see Joyce and ask him to
come down to Saxham. If he had really committed the murder (and of
this there was as yet no proof) he would naturally refuse to come. On
the other hand he might dare as much. However, on the whole as straws
show which way the wind blows and he knew what a nervous man Joyce
was, Herrick thought he would be able to decide by his manner if he
really had any dislike to Saxham.
He therefore one afternoon went to West Kensington. By this time he
had settled with Grant about his practice, and arranged the manner of
payment. His sole business was with Robin, and he went at once to the
Mansions. The servant said that Mr. Joyce was absent, but was expected
in soon, and that another gentleman was waiting in the drawing-room to
see him. Herrick had his suspicions at once, and was not at all
surprised to meet the smiling face of Don Manuel Santiago.
"Ah, you have come to see our friend," said the Mexican, shaking
Herrick's hand in the most hearty manner. "I also. He will be back
shortly."
"How are you Don Manuel?" said Herrick politely. "Well, I hope?"
The speech was obvious, but the fact is Herrick was observing the
Mexican from under his eyelids. When Santiago thought himself
unobserved he stole glances at his visitor. Apparently he neither
liked nor trusted Herrick. The doctor wondered what bond bound Robin
and this scamp together. Joyce was a scamp also and worse if his visit
to Saxham could be proved. Manuel answered the inquiry with a careless
speech and a puzzled look, evidently wondering why it was made. After
a time he began to walk restlessly about the room exclaiming that he
wanted a cigarette, and he had exhausted his own. Herrick politely
offered his case, as he wanted to put the Mexican at his ease and get
him to speak, in the hope of learning something from him, but Don
Manuel refused the offer.
"I smoke only my own particular kind," he said, "ah! now I remember. I
left some in Joyce's study. I will go and look for them. Will you come
also, Señor? We had better smoke in the study. Joyce does not like the
smoke in this room--" he cast a look round and shrugged, "this ugly
room," said Don Manuel spitefully.
Herrick followed rather because he wished to keep this shifty creature
in sight than because he wanted to smoke. Manuel went to the writing
table and shifted the papers about. He searched the mantelpiece, and
then casting his eyes on a tobacco cabinette walked towards that.
"He had found them and put them in there," said Manuel and pulled open
several drawers.
The Cabinet was at Herrick's elbow, and he could see into all the
drawers as the Mexican opened them. In the lowest drawer was a pistol.
Don Manuel took it out.
"A strange place to keep a revolver," he said. "No, it is not a
revolver what can it be--so large--so clumsy, Señor?"
Herrick took the weapon handed to him while Manuel continued his
search for the cigarettes. A frightful suspicion flashed into his mind
as he saw the old-fashioned weapon in the Mexican's hand. He
remembered that the death wound had been inflicted by a roughly cast
bullet, and that at the inquest it was said such had been fired from
an antique pistol. Here was the very thing in his hand--an old pistol,
silver-mounted, and clumsy in the extreme. The muzzle was large, and
could well fire the big bullet that had passed through the heart of
Carr to bury itself in the opposite wall. And this was in Joyce's
house. Herrick felt sick.
Manuel turned to him with a shrug. "There are no cigarettes here," he
said, "Joyce has smoked them. Señor you look ill--pale."
"It is nothing," replied Herrick, replacing the weapon in the cabinet
"I am subject to attacks of faintness. I think Don Manuel, that you
had better say nothing, to Joyce about our finding that pistol. He
might not like us to be prying into his cabinet."
"As you please," said Santiago with a shrug, "but Joyce would never be
angry with me. What is the pistol Señor?"
"Oh, some old-fashioned weapon that Joyce brought in a curiosity shop
very probably," replied the doctor carelessly, "it certainly is not
the kind of thing one would use."
"No," replied Don Manuel equally carelessly, "an ugly thing. I will
say nothing. A cigarette? Señor, I will take one of yours. Ah, there
is my dear friend Joyce."
While the Mexican was lighting the cigarette Robin entered, and
greeted Herrick rather stiffly. It was all Jim could do to bring
himself to shake hands with the man he now believed to be a criminal.
Yet in spite of all he had learned, in spite of the discovery of the
old-fashioned pistol, he could not yet bring himself quite to believe
in Robin's guilt. He still hoped for the best, and talked easily
enough.
"How pale you are Jim," said Joyce abruptly, "what is the matter?"
"I am so much a countryman now, that London does not agree with me."
Joyce laughed at the joke. "I prefer London myself."
"That is a pity," said Herrick, "for I am returning to Saxham
to-morrow, and I want you to come down for a few days next week."
"I shall be delighted," replied Robin at once. "I can put up at The
Carr Arms. I do not know Marsh you know."
"I daresay when he meets you he will ask you to stay at 'The Pines,'"
said Herrick, "but you will come down Robin? I have seen so little of
you, and I do not want our friendship to end so abruptly."
"Certainly. I will come with pleasure," replied Joyce so warmly that
Herrick's heart smote him for his treachery. But when he remembered
how Joyce had deceived him, how he had led him to the very house in
which to all appearance--he had committed a crime, the doctor's heart
grew hard and he was quite prepared to play his part and trap this
man. He was now beginning to regard Robin as a little reptile
extremely dangerous who needed to be crushed.
"I shall come next week," said Joyce gaily, "and if Marsh likes me, he
may as you say, ask me to 'The Pines.' You might come also Manuel."
"Perhaps, if I have a day to spare," said the Mexican. "I should like
to see the place where my dear friend Carr died."
He glanced at Herrick as he spoke, but the doctor was not attending to
him and did not see the look. Tea was being brought in, and Herrick
wanted to get away at once. He felt that knowing what he did, he could
never break bread with Robin again. He fervently hoped that the man
was innocent, but things looked black.
"I must go now Robin," said Herrick hurriedly, "remember you _must_
come."
"I promise. Won't you have tea?"
"No thanks; Marsh expects me. Good-bye until we meet at Saxham. Don
Manuel, Adieu!"
"Till we meet at Saxham," said the ready foreigner, and Herrick
hurried out of the room and down the stairs. Not till he was in the
train did he remember that he should have been wise enough to have
secured the pistol as evidence.
"But he may not be guilty after all," said Jim hopefully. His heart
told him that he was wrong. The circumstantial evidence was too
strong.