THE FIVE LANDLADIES
The journalist is the true Asmodeus of the day, and is quite as fond
as that meddlesome demon of interfering with what does not concern
him. He invades the privacy of our lives, unroofs our houses, reveals
our secrets, and trumpets forth things best left untold to the four
quarters of the globe.
Gebb had an especial abhorrence of this magpie habit of the Press; as
he averred, with much reason, that the excessively minute details of
criminal cases set forth in the newspapers put the ill-doers on their
guard, and warned them of coming dangers, with the result that they
were easily able to evade the futile clutches of the hands of Justice.
Yet in the instance of the Grangebury murder, the publication of
details had a singular result: no less than the assisting of right
against wrong.
As soon as the circumstances of the crime became known, the reporters
of every newspaper in the metropolis flocked to Paradise Row with
expansive notebooks, eager eyes, and inquiring minds. They surveyed
the house, questioned the police, interviewed Mrs. Presk, and gave
outline portraits of the landlady and her servant. The Yellow Boudoir
especially attracted their attention, and stirred their imagination to
descriptions of Eastern splendour. It was hinted that its magnificence
was on more than a kingly scale; it was compared to the celebrated
room in one of Balzac's romances, and its furnishing and appointments
were minutely detailed in glowing descriptions, exhausting the most
superlative adjectives in the English tongue. Also the unknown history
and strange death of its occupant were commented upon; guesses were
made as to her identity; and reasons were given for her secretive
life, for her strange belief in, and consultation of, charlatans and
fortune-tellers and all those cunning gipsies who live by the
gullibility of the public. Appeals were made in these articles to the
deaf and dumb driver to appear and declare the mystery of the yellow
van, the yellow room, and their queer owner. In short, as the journals
were in want of a sensation, they made the most of this material
supplied by chance, and England from one end to the other rang with
the tidings of Miss Ligram's death, Miss Ligram's boudoir, and Miss
Ligram's mysterious life. And all this trumpeting and noise, Gebb, the
enemy of the Press, heard with singular complacency, indeed, with
pleasure and satisfaction.
"As a rule, I hate these revelations," said he to one who knew his
views and wondered at his equanimity, "as in nine cases out of ten
they do more harm than good by placing the criminal on his guard; but
this is the tenth case, where it is advisable to make the details of
the crime as public as possible. I rely on these descriptions of the
Yellow Boudoir to trace Miss Ligram's past life."
"In what way?" demanded the inquirer.
"In the way of the yellow van," replied Gebb, promptly. "As Mrs. Presk
truly observed, the hard fact of that van shows that Miss Ligram was
in the habit of moving from place to place with her tent, and setting
it up after the fashion of an Arab, in whatever spot took her fancy.
Now, when those other people who have had the Yellow Boudoir set out
in its tawdry splendour under their roofs read of Miss Ligram's death,
and recognize the description of her strange room, they will come
forward, and detail their experiences of the lady. So, in one way and
another, we may be enabled to trace Miss Ligram's past life back to a
starting-point It is the only chance I can see of gaining any
knowledge."
Within the week events of a strange nature justified the judicious
belief entertained by the astute detective. Letters in female
caligraphy were received at Scotland Yard, stating that the writers
could give certain information to the police concerning the murdered
woman. Also, a few days later, decayed females of the landlady genus
presented themselves in person to detail their experiences of Miss
Ligram and her eccentricities. From all these personal and written
statements it appeared that for four years, more or less, Miss Ligram
had been moving from one part of London to another. In no one place
she had remained longer than six months, and in each her conduct and
mode of life had been the same. She arrived regularly in the yellow
van, and, having obtained permission from the various landladies at
the cost of paying double the rent demanded, as regularly set up and
furnished her Yellow Boudoir. As in the latest instance of the
Grangebury episode, she consulted fortune-tellers, spiritualists, and
shady people of a like nature, departing at the end of each tenancy
without a word as to her destination. It would seem from this evidence
that the woman was consistent in her eccentricities, and conducted her
strangely secretive life on the most methodical principles.
One thing which seemed of a piece with the dead woman's desire for
concealment, was that in every place she--so to speak--camped in, she
gave a different name; each appellation being stranger than the last,
and all apparently of her own manufacture. She figured at Hampstead
under the name of Margil; in Richmond she was known as Miss Ramlig;
when housed in St. John's Wood she called herself Milgar; and at
Shepherd's Bush--but for the sake of clearness it will be advisable to
let the several landladies speak for themselves--five persons, five
pieces of information more or less similar, and five obviously made-up
names. So much for the past of Miss Ligram.
Mrs. Brown, of West Kensington, stated that she knew the deceased
under the name of Miss Limrag. She arrived at Mrs. Brown's in the
month of May, '95, and after a six months' tenancy departed in the
month of October in the same year. Mrs. Brown was ignorant as to where
she come from, and equally at a loss to declare whither she went. Both
in coming and going Miss Limrag used as a means of transport the
yellow van, and during her residence she inhabited the Yellow Room of
her own furnishing for the consulting therein of the fortune-telling
fraternity.
Mrs. Kane testified that a lady who called herself Miss Milgar arrived
in Shelley Road, St. John's Wood, on the first day of November, '95,
and left the district in the last days of April, '96. Her conduct
during her six months' stay was similar to that described by Mrs.
Presk and Mrs. Brown. On the evidence of such conduct, and the facts
of the van and boudoir (both yellow in colour), Mrs. Kane had no
hesitation in declaring that the murdered Miss Ligram, of Grangebury,
was her eccentric lodger, Miss Milgar.
The information given by Miss Bain, of Crescent Villa, Hampstead,
showed that the name assumed there by the wandering lady was Margil,
and that she took possession of her lodgings there in the month of
November, '93--having arrived, according to her custom, in the yellow
van. While the lodger of Miss Bain, she gave herself up to the study
of dream-books, and the interpretation of visions. During her
occupancy of Crescent Villa, the landlady, in spite of all efforts,
could find out nothing about her past or discover where she came from;
and the so-called Miss Margil departed with her furniture towards the
end of April, 1894. She left no address.
Miss Lamb, resident at Richmond, entertained the unknown from
November, 1894, to April, 1895. She knew her by the strange name of
Ramlig, and always thought her weak in her mind, owing to her queer
mode of life, and belief in omens. When Miss Ramlig made any boastful
speech reflecting on her worldly prosperity, she would touch wood to
avert the omen. "Absit omen"; "Umberufen"; "In a good hour be it
spoken "; "N'importe." These words and phrases were continually on her
tongue; and she was a slave to all forms of superstition. She would
not walk under a ladder; if she spilt salt she threw a pinch over
her shoulder; an unexpected meeting with a magpie, a hunchback, a
cross-eyed person, or with a piebald horse, either made her rejoice in
the most extravagant fashion, or threw her into a fever of
apprehension. She was not communicative, and resisted all Miss Lamb's
attempts at social intercourse. During the whole period of her stay,
no words were spoken, and no event occurred, likely to throw light on
her past; nor, when she departed, did Miss Lamb discover whither she
intended to go. In coming, in staying, in going, Miss Ramlig was a
mystery.
The owner of Myrtle Bank, Shepherd's Bush, a bird-like spinster called
Cass, informed Gebb that a certain Miss Migral lodged with her from
the first of May to the end of October, 1894. She arrived in the van
spoken of by the other witnesses; she paid double rent for the
privilege of dismantling a room, and therein set up her tent-like
habitation of yellow satin, furnished with cane chairs and tables,
illuminated with candles, and perfumed with incense. She was, said
Miss Cass, superstitious beyond all belief, actually divining by
teacups, and believing in the future as foretold by the position of
the tea-leaves, after the fashion of illiterate servant-girls. Miss
Migral never went to church, she had--so far as Miss Cass knew, no
Bible in her possession; but read books dealing with fortune-telling
and necromancy. One of her favourite volumes was "The Book of Fate,"
another "The Book of Dreams," and she appeared to have an insatiable
desire to know the future; but for what reason, Miss Cass--in spite of
all efforts--was unable to discover. This strange creature departed
with all her worldly goods for some unknown destination during the
last days of October, 1894.
Mrs. Presk was the last landlady who received this mysterious woman,
and knew her as Miss Ligram. She arrived at Paradise Row at the
beginning of May, 1896, and met with a violent death three months
later. Mrs. Presk was as ignorant of the woman's past as the other
landladies had been. She arrived from nowhere, and, no doubt, would
have departed six months later in an equally mysterious fashion. But
in the middle of her Grangebury tenancy, a violent death put an end to
her further wanderings.
Gebb heard all this evidence, which was monotonous from its sameness,
with much satisfaction and great attention. By means of the details
afforded by the five landladies and Mrs. Presk, he traced back the
wanderings of the dead woman to the month of November, 1893, but
further back he was unable to go, for lack of information. In spite of
all publicity given to the case, notwithstanding advertisements, and
his own private efforts, no other witnesses came forward to give
evidence as to the past of Miss Ligram; so, finding he was at a
dead stop, the detective resolved to stand--at all events for the
present--on the information he had already acquired. For his own
private information and guidance he tabulated an account of Miss
Ligram's names, addresses, and former landladies, together with the
dates of her various rests, as follows:--
Miss Bain, Hampstead Margil, Nov., 1893, to April, 1894
Miss Cass, Shepherd's Bush Migral, May to Oct.,1894
Miss Lamb, Richmond Ramlig, Nov., 1894, to April, 1895
Mrs. Brown, West Kensington Limrag, May to Oct. 1895
Mrs. Kane, St. John's Wool Milgar, Nov., 1895, to April, 1896
Mrs. Presk, Grangebury Ligram, April to July, 1896
And at the foot of this table he noted the fact that on the night of
the 24th July, 1896--according to medical evidence at ten o'clock--the
so-called Miss Ligram met with a violent death at the hands of some
unknown person.
So far so good; but here Gebb's information came to an end, and beyond
a few years' knowledge of Miss Ligram's past, he had no evidence to
show him why she had taken to this mode of life, or why her eccentric
manner of living should have been cut short by violence. Ready as he
was in resource, the detective did not know how to act, or in which
direction to turn for information. While thus perplexed he received a
hasty note scribbled on a half-sheet of dirty paper. It ran as
follows:--
"48, Guy Street, Pimlico.
"Come and see me at once, about the Grangebury case. I have solved the
mystery, and can hang the criminal.--Yours,
"Simon Parge."