ROBIN JOYCE EXPLAINS HIMSELF
Whether it was the charm of the girl's society based upon his new
discovery, or the interest of the conversation from a detective's
point of view, that detained Herrick with her for over two hours, it
is impossible to say. Probably Dr. Jim could not have given a
satisfactory answer himself. But as he hurried along the road to the
Carr Arms he acknowledged that he had been dilatory, for in two hours
Robin could have got away from Saxham. But Dr. Jim did not think he
would go. Robin was a child in many ways, and was not quick in making
plans. Besides, he would be bewildered by the sudden revelation of his
rascality and for the moment he would not be able to think of his own
safety. Or at least if he did think, he would be unable to make any
plans. Also--and of this Herrick was certain--he had very little money
to come and go on.
"No," thought the doctor, as he swung into the village green, "Robin
knows better than to give me the slip. He would be afraid that I would
show him no mercy when I caught him up. Probably he will make out some
story and implore me for the sake of our past friendship to be silent.
If he tells me the whole truth and if he did not actually kill Carr, I
might--but then he insulted Bess, and tried to get her into danger."
The doctor clenched his fist and frowned. "I'll give him a thrashing
at all events. There is a bad time coming for you Robin my man."
The prognostications of Dr. Jim proved to be correct. Joyce had not
attempted flight. He was waiting in his sitting-room for the coming of
the doctor, and he looked horribly frightened. Herrick could have
found it in his heart to be sorry for the wretched little creature
with his white haggard face and staring eyes; but he remembered what
was at stake, and made up his mind to be stern even to the verge of
brutality. For all he knew this treacherous little scoundrel might
have hinted to the outside world that Bess was involved in the murder
of Carr. If he had done this, Herrick considered that nothing would be
too bad for him. It was in a very stern frame of mind that Dr. Jim sat
down opposite his former friend. Robin winced at the regard of those
once kind eyes. He felt like a rabbit in the presence of a
boa-constrictor. "Well!" said Jim grimly eying the miserable wretch,
"and what have you to say for yourself?"
"Nothing!" returned Robin sullenly. "I am afraid I shall not be
satisfied with that Joyce. You will have to tell me the whole of your
doings, from first to last."
"I have done nothing so very wrong Jim--"
"One moment," interposed Herrick, "I think you had better call me by
my last name. We are not friends now you know."
"Will, I call you Dr. Herrick," said Robin with a small sneer.
"I think it might be better--sir," drawled Herrick, and the contempt
in his tone made the self-satisfied Joyce wince.
"If I had done anything wrong I should not have waited to see you."
"That's a lie," replied the plain-spoken Jim. "You know me better than
that. Had you bolted I should have had the police on your track before
night-fall. You know me, as I said before. Your only chance is to make
a clean breast of this damnable business."
"What do you mean?"
"Don't bandy words with me Joyce. It won't do. You are in a cleft
stick and no amount of wriggling will serve you. If you want a lead
here is one. You told me at Southberry that you went up up see Frith
and Frith."
"So I did.--"
"Oh, Lord!" cried Herrick in a tone of disgust "will you never be done
with your petty falsehoods. I know that you have not seen the
solicitors for some months--certainly not on the twenty-fourth of
July. Frith told me how you tried to get your mother's annuity
transferred to yourself. Come now! Don't play the fool with me. You
did not sleep at the Hull hotel?"
"How do you know that?"
"Because I went there. And I know also that you alighted from the
seven train at Heathcroft station, and rode on your bicycle to
Saxham--'I don't know for what purpose, unless it was to kill the
Colonel."
"No! No!" this time Joyce was really afraid. "I did not kill him!"
"That remains to be proved. What about that pistol you slipped into
the drawer of Bess Endicotte's writing-table--now, you are about to
lie again! It won't do;---it won't do. The truth, you rat of a man."
"Don't call names," muttered Joyce weakly.
"I beg your pardon. I will not call you any more names. Let us conduct
this conversation calmly. But you have to tell me the whole truth,
or---"
"Well," said Joyce defiantly, "and if I refuse? What then."
"I will hand you over to the Beorminster police."
"You have no evidence--"
"I have more than you think of. You ass," said Herrick in a cold rage,
"for the sake of our past friendship I have been sparing you all these
weeks. I got you down here in the hope that you would be man enough to
come forward and confess your follies. I do not say crimes, for you
have not pluck enough to commit the smallest. But you kept your own
counsel, and thought you were pulling wool over my eyes. I have seen
through all these weeks. And now you insult the woman I love, and--"
Robin jumped up in a childish rage. "You don't love her--you won't
marry her," he panted. "I won't have it!"
"Sit down," commanded Herrick sternly, "you have nothing to say in the
matter. Leave Miss Endicotte's name out of it. We have had enough of
this nonsense. Confess what you have done."
"I won't," Joyce set his teeth.
"Very good. Then I shall send for the police."
"You dare not."
"Ah! You think so." Herrick rose and walked towards the bell. Joyce
anticipated him and stood in his path with flashing eyes. Herrick
laughed. "Are you about to measure your strength against mine?" he
said.
Before he could speak further the little man had flung himself at his
throat like a wild beast. Strong as Herrick was, the abnormal nerve
force of Joyce made him no mean antagonist. But the contest was
unequal, and at last Herrick lifted Joyce above his head, shook him'
as a terrier does a rat, and pitched him headlong into a chair, where
the creature, helpless, and overborne, sat gnashing his teeth and
glaring. For the moment Herrick thought he was mad. "Have you had
enough?" asked the doctor recovering his breath, "if not I am quite
willing to administer the thrashing you so richly deserve."
Joyce still glared and stamped in impotent rage. Then he suddenly
burst into tears and hid his face in his hands. "You great brute," he
wailed, "you might spare me!"
"Spare you!" echoed Herrick contemptuously, "and did you think of
sparing that poor girl, whom you were trying to blackmail into
marriage! You may thank your stars Joyce that you have to deal with a
man who knows you as I do. If it had been another man, they would have
left you half dead on the floor. You shall have justice from me, never
fear."
Robin still continued to sob, and huddled up in the big chair looked
scarcely as large as a child. "I feel ill--ill--horribly ill."
"You'll feel much worse before I've done with you," said the
relentless Herrick, "sit up and talk rationally. All this won't do
with me. You have tried all your tricks, they are of no avail. Here
are pen ink and paper. I intend to take down all you say, and you will
sign the statement."
"I'll see you to the devil first," cried Joyce sitting up tear-stained
and dishevelled but with an evil look in his eyes.
"You will do exactly as you are bid," replied Herrick selecting a pen,
"now begin, and tell no lies. I have information of which you know
nothing, and if I catch you tripping--well you know what to expect."
Joyce saw that he was helpless. He had tried defiance, force, tears,
and was now at the end of his resources. Herrick pitilessly held to
his point. Seeing that there was no help for it, the little scamp
dried his eyes, arranged his coat and hardened himself into a
reasonable frame of mind. "You have the whip hand," he said sullenly,
"so I must give in."
"I think that is very wise of you. After all you might have known that
such play-acting would not impose upon me. Now you are to tell me all
you did at Saxham on that night and why you came down. I shall
probably ask you a few questions to which I shall require truthful
answers. And remember what I said. I know more about your doings than
you give me credit for. I can tell if you speak the truth or not. Now
go on."
Dr. Jim squared his elbows and settled himself to write. Joyce cast
one look at the door as though he meditated flight. But he knew that
such a dash for liberty would result in his incarceration in prison so
he abandoned it and sullenly began to talk.
"I did come down to Saxham on the twenty-fourth," he confessed.
"I thought so. And your story of seeing Frith and Frith was a lie."
"Yes! I did not want you to know."
"Not only that, but you wished to make use of me. I was to prove your
alibi, Eh? You chose this country for our walking tour on purpose?"
"I planned the whole thing," said Joyce shamelessly and with something
of pleasure in his own cleverness. "You think yourself clever Herrick,
but I, whom you have always despised, have made a tool of you."
"Up to a point you have no doubt. But there is a proverb about playing
with edged tools, you seem to have forgotten. As to your saying that I
despise you I never did so, until I found out--never mind how--that
you had told me a lie about going to London from Southberry."
"It was my own business."
"And I was to be your tool, as you have just said. Go on."
Joyce thought for a moment. "As I have done nothing so very wrong," he
said, "there is no reason why I should not tell you everything from
the beginning. I suppose you will admit that."
"No reason at all. Go on."
"Very good. Well then until my mother died I had no idea of her
position--nor," added Joyce, "have I any very clear idea now. She left
a paper behind her which explained much, but not all. I will show it
to you when you come up to London."
"Thank you; I will remind you of that promise."
Robin scowled and continued. "My mother said that between a certain
Colonel Carr and herself there existed a business arrangement that she
should receive five hundred a year for her life. The arrangement was
made by my dead father for services rendered to Colonel Carr."
"What were those services?"
"That is one of the things I do not know. The paper said nothing about
them. The five hundred a year was to be paid to my mother and when she
died it was to stop. So you see that in place of having an income as I
thought I was left a pauper. My mother had saved some money--about
three hundred pounds. I am living on that now. I was in despair, and I
went to the solicitors who pay the annuity to ask if Colonel Carr
would continue it. They wrote to the Colonel and he refused.
"I know that," said Herrick smoothly, "Frith told me."
"You seem to have meddled a good deal in my business," sneered Joyce.
"Well, I was again in despair, as I saw nothing before me but a life
of hard work. I read over the paper again. My mother said in it that
Carr was a dangerous man, but that he had enemies, who threatened to
kill him. She advised me to see him, but to take all precautions
against my visit being known to anyone.
"Why?" asked Dr. Jim, "I see no reason."
"Nor did I," responded Robin with a shrug; he was now quite himself
again and seemed to enjoy the telling of the story. "She hinted
however that if Colonel Carr ever died by violence--and she was sure
he would--I might be accused of the crime if I went to see him. She
said that it was dangerous to be in his company for that reason."
"It seems to me a very ridiculous reason."
"I thought it was. All the same as she knew more about the matter than
I did, I thought it best to adopt her suggestion. I wished to see Carr
and ask him to continue the annuity. But I wished to see him secretly
so that if he was murdered--as my mother hinted--I should not be
dragged into the matter. For that reason I made the plans you blame.
"And were a fool to do so," said Dr. Jim vigorously, "why in the name
of heaven did you not tell me all this? I should have come and seen
Carr with you openly. I should not have been afraid of being
implicated in a crime, though the man were murdered half a dozen times
over. The secret means you took to avert suspicion falling on you,
have only resulted in your being suspected--at least by me."
"I thought you did not suspect me?" said Joyce snappishly.
"Not of the crime, for I know what a coward you are. But you know
something about it. Still, if the police knew all I do, you would find
yourself in Queer Street. Again I say that in your desire to avert
suspicion from yourself, you have brought it upon your head. However I
think the reason given in the paper you speak of ridiculous. Go on.
What of your plans? How were they carried out?"
"I first looked up a map of the country to see where Carr lived. Then
as you had proposed a walking tour, I induced you to take the route
which ran right across Carr's place. I thought if anything occurred
you could prove that I was with you."
"But did you expect the man to be murdered while we were on our tour?"
"I did not know what might happen. As it was I knew the man was dead
when I rejoined you at Southberry. But my idea was to see him, and
then to pass afterwards with you through the village. When I set out
on the walking tour I never thought he would be murdered."
"It was, to say the least, strange that Carr should meet with his
death at so critical a moment to you," said Herrick doubtfully, "he
had lived safely for ten years."
"It was chance I suppose. At all events I did not kill him as you seem
to suppose. I simply wished to see him about the annuity. When I left
you at Southberry and went to London on the plea of seeing Frith and
Frith, I left my bag at the Hull Hotel to provide a second alibi. I
intended to get down and see Carr, then be back and sleep at the Hull
Hotel on that night. It was the murder that threw me out."
Herrick laughed. "And it was the murder against which you were taking
all these precautions. How ironical! Well?"
"I went to my flat and got my bicycle, and I wrapped myself up in my
great-coat. Then I went down to Saxham by the Heathcroft line. I
alighted there at seven o'clock; had something to eat at the railway
bar, and then rode on my bicycle to Saxham. I found the house from the
map and waited in the pine woods before I could make up my mind to go
in and seek for an interview."
"At what time did you hide in the Pine Woods?"
"Between eight and nine o'clock. While there I heard a single shot. It
frightened me. But I did not think that it was murder. No," said Robin
to himself with a shiver, "I did not think it was murder."
"That would be the death shot," said Herrick, "seeing that Miss Bess
heard the other three."
"I heard them also. But that was after nine."
"And all this time you remained near the house?"
"No! I went on to the other side of the Pine wood keeping the tower in
sight. I saw a girl with a lantern searching the wood. She passed near
where I lay and I saw her plainly. That is how I recognised her."
"And why did you accuse her?"
"I thought she might have had something to do with the crime," said
Joyce sullenly, "you must confess it was queer to see a girl in the
woods at that hour. If she was innocent why should she have been about
the house so late?"
"Don't you dare to hint that she is not innocent," cried Herrick
violently. "She went to look for her brother Sidney. She heard the
shots too. Did you see Frisco at the door of the house?"
"No! It was some time after I lost sight of Miss Bess that I heard the
shots, I thought she might have fired them. I waited till ten o'clock,
and then thought I would go and see what was the matter. I walked
through the wood, and entered the house. It was all alight and quite
deserted, just as we found it. As I had heard the shots in the tower I
climbed up. At the top I saw what you and I saw--the dead body of the
Colonel. He was quite dead. I was afraid, for the very thing I dreaded
had come to pass. I saw how wise was my mother's advice, and being
afraid lest someone should come and I should be arrested for the crime
I went away. I got my bicycle which I had left in the Pine wood and
rode back to Heathcroft. I found the last train gone, so I could not
get back to the Hull Hotel. I feared to sleep in any inn lest the
police, when the crime was discovered, should make search for
strangers. I passed the night in a wood, then rode on at dawn to a
station beyond Heathcroft, where I got a cup of coffee at the bar of
the station. Then I took the train back to London, went to the Hull
Hotel, and said that I had passed the night with a friend. Afterwards
I caught the Southberry train and rejoined you. That is all."
"A very pretty story!" remarked Herrick grimly, "then you were anxious
to push on across the moor that we might find the body together?"
"Not exactly; I thought it would be already found when we arrived.
However when I saw the house blazing I knew that nothing had been
disturbed. We went in and--you know----"
"I know that you took a fit of hysteria," said Herrick. "I thought it
was fatigue, but now I understand it was because you were playing a
part. This is all very well, how do I know you did not kill the man?"
"I did not; I swear I did not," cried Joyce with a shiver.
"What about that pistol?"
"That has nothing to do with the murder."
"Was it not the weapon that was used?"
"Not that I know of."
"Where did you get it?"
Joyce hesitated and wriggled. "I do not see why you should ask me?"
"Don't you indeed," said Herrick grimly, "I see a very good reason.
Carr was shot through the heart with a bullet that might very well fit
that ancient weapon."
"How do you know that I put it into the drawer at 'The Grange?'"
"Are you going to lie about that? It won't do Joyce. I saw that
pistol at your flat,--in your tobacco cabinet."
Joyce turned white. He had been quite prepared to lie, but this
information showed him how futile that would be. "How did you find it
in there?" he asked.
"Oh, I wasn't poking and prying. Manuel hunting for cigarettes showed
it to me. He dropped across it by accident."
Joyce sprang to his feet. "The liar, oh, the liar!" he cried. "Manuel!
why he knew it was in the cabinet."
"And he placed it there, Eh!"
"I never said so!" muttered Robin passing his tongue over his dry
lips.
"Oh, but I can see it it your face. Evidently Manuel played upon you
the same trick you intended to play upon Bess. A nice pair, upon my
soul!" Herrick paused for a moment. "What has Manuel to do with this?"
"Nothing, that I know of," retorted Joyce sullenly. "He brought me the
pistol, but refused to say where he got it. He knows something of this
matter I think."
"I am very certain he does. However, I'll speak to him. Where is he?"
"He went over to Beorminster this afternoon.
"Very good I'll see him when he comes back. By the way, you told me a
lie about him, Johnstone did not introduce you at the Apollo Club."
Joyce shrugged his shoulders. "Since you know so much you might as
well know more," he said coolly. "I met Manuel at the Pimlico gambling
club. We played together and became friends. Oddly enough, he knew all
about Carr. That drew us together. We talked a good deal about the
business, and I told him what I told you. But he is a scoundrel," said
Joyce gritting his teeth, "he wants to make out that I shot Carr with
that pistol, and showed it to you in my flat to inculpate me."
"Which was what you proposed to do with that girl!"
"I did," said Robin sullenly. "I wanted to marry her; and I made my
plans so that she should not dare to refuse."
Herrick rose to his feet. "Joyce," said he calmly, "I had intended to
give you a thrashing; but you are such a miserable wretch that if I
man-handled you I should probably kill you. You can go free for me.
But you shall leave this place by the five o'clock train from
Beorminster. I'll see to it myself."
"I thought you would," sneered Joyce, "so I have packed my clothes.
And what are you going to do next?"
"Keep an eye on you. Go back to your flat. If you try to run I'll have
you arrested. Do not think because I send you to London that you will
be beyond the reach of my arm. You and Manuel are plotting to get this
money of Stephen Marsh."
"I am not, whatever Santiago may be doing. He got everything out of me
and told me nothing in return. Save that he knew Carr and hated him I
do not know anything. I don't believe that the pistol is the one used
in the murder. Santiago probably read about an old-fashioned weapon
being used, and knowing that I was down here on the night put that
pistol----"
"Yes! Yes, I see all that. You see what a scoundrel you have taken up
with! Upon my word Joyce, you had better have stuck to me."
"It is too late now," said Robin with something of a sob, "you'll
never trust me again."
"Never," replied Herrick calmly, "I have not yet got to the bottom of
this business. But I believe you are the tool rather than the
accomplice of this Mexican. However I will deal with him. You go to
London, and hold yourself in readiness for my orders."
"I'll be even with Santiago yet for his treachery," said Robin rising.
"That you can settle between yourselves. Hullo, don't go yet. Sign
this paper. I have written down all you told me."
"I won't sign."
"You will, and at once. I will be the witness. If you don't I will not
protect you in any way."
"You won't let me get into trouble?" said Joyce taking the pen.
"Not if what you have told me is true. Sign."
So Joyce signed and Herrick witnessed the document. The doctor placed
it in his pocket and then ordered a trap from Napper. After Joyce had
paid his bill, the doctor drove him to Beorminster. The five o'clock
train was on the point of departure, but he just managed to catch it.
As he flung himself into a carriage he held out his hand to Herrick.
"No," replied Jim coldly, "we have done with all that. And no tricks,
or you'll get the worst of it."
"I'll go straight to my flat," said Joyce sulkily, and as the train
steamed out of the station he cursed his former friend.
He would have cursed him still more if he had seen what he did next.
The doctor went to the telegraph office, and wrote out a wire
describing Joyce's face, clothes, figure, and all: also set down the
train by which he would arrive at Paddington. This he sent to a firm
of private detectives with whom he had already done business. "There,"
said Herrick with a grim smile when the wire was despatched, "Joyce
will be watched from the moment he gets to town. Any tricks, and--"
the doctor laughed.
Apparently he did not yet trust the little man in spite of his
confession.