EUGÉNIE _V_ NABALL.
As a rule first performances in Melbourne take place on Saturday
night, consequently the criticisms on "Faust Upset" were in Monday's
papers. Simultaneously with the notices of the burlesque, there
appeared an announcement that the author of the piece had been
arrested for the murder of Jacob Lazarus.
Keith was very little known in Melbourne, so his arrest personally
caused little talk; but the fact that a successful author and a
murderer were one and the same person caused a great sensation.
The criticisms on the burlesque were, as a rule, good, and though some
of the papers picked out faults, yet it was generally agreed that the
piece had been a wonderful success; but the sensation of a successful
colonial production having taken place was merged in the greater
sensation of the discovery of the Russell Street murderer.
Keith Stewart, protesting his innocence of the charge, had immediately
been taken off to gaol, and Eugénie was unable to see him until she
got the permission of the proper authorities; but feeling certain that
he had not committed the crime, she called on Ezra at _The Penny
Whistle_ early on Monday morning.
On sending up her card, she was shown into Ezra's room, and there
found that Naball was present. The detective, who was fully convinced
of Keith's guilt, had called in order to find out for certain from
Ezra all about the prisoner's movements on the night in question.
When Eugénie entered the room, Ezra, who looked pale and careworn,
arose and greeted her warmly. He then introduced her to Naball, who
looked keenly at the sad face of the woman who was engaged to the man
he had hunted down.
"Mr. Naball," said Ezra, indicating the detective, "has called upon me
to find out about Stewart's movements on the night my father was
murdered."
"Yes; that's so," replied Naball, with a shrewd glance at the Jew.
"Well," said Eugénie impatiently, "surely you can explain them, for
Keith told me you were with him all the time."
Ezra looked dismal.
"No, I wasn't with him all the time; I only met him at the Bon-Bon,
and I left before he did."
"Yes," interposed the detective smoothly; "and, according to Mr.
Mortimer, Stewart left there about half-past twelve o'clock."
"And then, I presume," said Eugénie, with fine disdain, "you think he
went and murdered Lazarus right off?"
"Well," observed Naball, deliberately smoothing his gloves, "according
to the doctor's evidence, the crime was committed about twelve
o'clock, or a little later. Now Stewart can't say where he was between
the time he left the theatre and the time he met Villiers."
"He was wandering about the streets," explained Eugénie.
Naball smiled cynically.
"Yes; so he says."
"And so every one else says who knows Keith Stewart," retorted the
girl. "He is incapable of such an act."
Naball shrugged his shoulders as much as to say that he had nothing to
urge against such an eminently feminine argument.
Eugénie looked angrily at the detective, and then turned in despair to
the Jew.
"You don't believe him guilty?" she asked.
"No, on my soul, I do not," he replied fervently; "still appearances
look black against him."
Miss Rainsford thought for a few moments, and at last bluntly asked
Naball the same question.
"Do you believe him guilty?"
"As far as my experience goes," said the detective coolly, "I do."
"Why?"
Naball produced a little pocket-knife, and began to trim his nails.
"The evidence is circumstantial," he said, shrugging his shoulders,
"but the evidence is conclusive."
"Would you mind telling me what the evidence is?"
The detective shut his knife with a sharp click, slipped it into his
waistcoat pocket, and, leaning over the table, looked steadily at
Eugénie.
"Miss Rainsford," he said gravely, "I admire you very much for the way
you stand up for Stewart, but, believe me, that though I would gladly
see him free, yet the proofs are too strong to suppose him innocent."
Eugénie bent her head coldly. "Would you mind telling me the
evidence?" she reiterated.
Naball, rather perplexed, looked at Ezra. "Yes, tell her all you
know," said that gentleman. "I think, myself, Stewart is innocent, and
perhaps Miss Rainsford may throw some light on the mystery."
"I don't call it a mystery," retorted Naball impatiently; "it's as
clear as day. I'm willing to tell all I know; but as to Miss Rainsford
throwing any light on the subject, it's absurd."
Eugénie questioned him for the third time in the same words.
"Would you mind telling me the evidence?"
"Certainly," said Naball sharply. "Stewart was in employment of the
deceased as his clerk. He came to Melbourne with no money, and,
according to his own account, given in this very room, and in the
presence of this gentleman, he becomes possessed of a sum of five
hundred pounds, which was mysteriously placed to his credit at the
Hibernian Bank. I went to the bank, and discovered from the manager
that such a sum had been placed to the prisoner's credit, but he
refused to tell me by whom, so, as was only natural, I concluded that
Stewart had robbed his employer of the money, and under a feigned name
placed it to his credit. My reasons for such a belief are this--he had
full command of all the books, and could cook the accounts as he
liked. He did so, and obtained this money. Lazarus, however, who I
know was a very sharp man, had suspicions, and determined to examine
the books; this, of course, meant ruin to Stewart, so he made up his
mind to kill his master. He was at the Skylarks' Club on the night of
the murder, and gave Mr. Fenton, the manager of The Never-say-die
Insurance Company, his knife to open a champagne bottle; that knife
was one given to him by the child of Kitty Marchurst, and has on it an
inscription, 'From Meg.' On receiving it back, he placed it in the
pocket of his overcoat, and walked to the Bon-Bon. After an interview
with Mr. Mortimer, he left the Bon-Bon at half-past twelve o'clock,
went up to Russell Street, and entering by the back window (the
position of which he knew thoroughly), killed the old man; then he
took the keys from under the pillow, and robbed the safe of various
things, including bank-notes to the amount of one hundred pounds,
which he knew were placed therein; while leaving the place, he dropped
his knife outside the window; he then wanders about the streets,
perhaps goes home, but horror-struck with the dread of being found
out, returns to the scene of his crime, and there sees Villiers, whom
he questions, but getting no response from him, thinks Villiers is
drunk. Villiers, however, was only shamming, and tells me some time
afterwards that he picked up a knife under the open window, and was
cognisant of the murder. I obtain the knife, and it is the one Stewart
had in the club, with the inscription on it. I think, therefore, the
evidence is very clear."
"In what way?" asked Eugénie quietly.
The detective became a little exasperated.
"Good heavens!" he said in an annoyed tone of voice, "there are three
strong proofs: first, he is possessed of a large sum of money he can't
account for; second, he is unable to prove an _alibi_; and third, his
knife, covered with blood, is found on the scene of the crime."
"So far so good," said Eugénie ironically; "your reasoning is
excellent, Mr. Naball, but untrue."
"Untrue?"
"I repeat untrue," she replied. "With regard to the five hundred
pounds--I paid that into his credit."
"You," said Ezra, while Naball stared at her thunder-struck, "a poor
girl."
"I'm not a poor girl," said Miss Rainsford coolly. "On the contrary,
I'm worth fifty thousand pounds left to me by a sharebroker in
Sandhurst. I did not tell Keith of my fortune as I wanted him to love
me for myself. But as I knew he was poor, I placed to his credit the
sum of five hundred pounds; so that settles your first proof, Mr.
Naball."
"Well, it's certainly very curious," said Naball, after a pause. "I
hardly know what to think--what about my second proof?"
"Oh! that's more difficult to prove," said Eugénie; "but I quite
believe he did wander about. He's rather absent-minded, I know."
"Your answer to my second proof is weak," replied Naball sardonically.
"And the third--"
"About the knife? Well," said Miss Rainsford, knitting her brows, "he
had it at the club, you say, and slipped it into his overcoat pocket."
"Exactly."
"Then he went to the Bon-Bon."
"He did."
"And what happened to his overcoat there?' asked Eugénie.
"I can tell you," replied Ezra. "He took it off, and in mistake
Caprice carried it downstairs with her fur mantle."
"Oh, did she take it away with her?" asked Naball quickly.
"No," said Ezra quietly, "she found out she had it when she was
putting on her mantle in the carriage, and called me back to return
it. I took it upstairs again, and gave it to Keith, who put it on."
"And the knife was still in the pocket?" said Eugénie.
"I suppose so," replied Ezra, rather confused. "I didn't even know the
knife was there."
"What do you think?" asked Miss Rainsford, turning to Naball.
That astute young man wrinkled his brows.
"I see what you are driving at," he said rapidly. "You think that
Caprice took the knife out of the pocket, saw the whole chance in a
flash, and committed the crime."
"No! no!" cried Eugénie, horror struck. "I'm sure I don't believe she
could be guilty of a crime."
"Humph! I don't know so much about that," said Naball disbelievingly.
"What nonsense," broke in Ezra angrily; "she could not have done such
a thing--she had no motive."
Naball did not reply to this remark, but rising from his seat, walked
hurriedly up and down the room in a state of great excitement. He had
been fully convinced of the guilt of Stewart, but the conversation of
Eugénie had shaken his belief, and he began to puzzle over the new
aspect of the case.
"I wonder if Caprice ever had any dealings with Lazarus?" he said to
himself, thinking of the diamond robbery.
"Yes," broke in Eugénie sharply, "she had--at least," in answer to
Naball's questioning look, "when I was at the theatre on Saturday
night a boy near me said he had seen her at Lazarus's place."
"A boy," asked Ezra sharply, "what boy?"
"I don't know," she replied; "a thin, pale-faced Jewish-looking boy,
with a shrill voice."
"Isaiah," said Naball and Ezra with one voice, and then looked at one
another, amazed at this new discovery.
"By Jove!" said the detective, "this is becoming exciting. You are
sure you heard the boy say that?"
"Yes, I'm sure--quite sure," answered Eugénie firmly; "but I don't
think that could prove Caprice guilty. Much as I wish to serve Keith,
I don't want to ruin her."
Naball glanced at her keenly, then turned to Ezra.
"Send for the boy," he said sharply, "and we'll find out all about
Caprice's visits to your father's place."
"It mightn't have anything to do with the murder," said Ezra, ringing
the bell for the messenger.
"True," replied Naball, "but, on the other hand, it might have a good
deal to do with the diamond robbery."