ACCUSED AND ACCUSER
It was perhaps unfortunate that District Commissioner Smith had very
recently been transferred from Nairobi for his sins, inasmuch as he
knew not the gods of Melindi and cared not to know them.
He was utterly bored by the place, and showed it plainly: he disliked
Americans by instinct and training and Hammer saw that the question
of his guilt or innocence was of the utmost indifference to his
inquisitor.
"Do you plead innocent or guilty to this charge Mr.--er--Hammer?"
The American tried to collect himself, for the charge had struck him
like a bolt from the blue. Preposterous as it was, the very
absurdity of it shocked him into quiet coolness.
If it was the work of Krausz, as he had conjectured, then he would
eventually hold the whip-hand, through the testimony of Solomon and
Sara Helmuth; but in the meantime it would do no good to try and
bluster out his innocence.
"Not guilty, of course. I trust that you'll note that I gave myself
up without making a fight? Does that look as if I was a murderer,
Mr. District Commissioner?"
Smith made an entry on the sheet before him, then looked up.
"You'll please bear in mind, Hammer, that you're not here to ask
questions, but to answer them. Where were you on the morning of the
14th instant?"
"The 14th?" Hammer thought back desperately--ah, that was the
morning of Harcourt's murder!
"I was aboard the _Daphne_, ill with fever."
"You deny the fact, then, that you were on the wharf that morning?"
"Of course I do! I was brought ashore that day unconscious, and can
bring witnesses to prove it."
"Ah!" For the first time Smith began to show a trace of interest.
"Their names?"
"John Solomon for one. Miss Sara Helmuth for another, the doctor who
attended me, natives----
"Testimony of natives not allowed." The commissioner glanced at his
police officer. "Who is this--er--this John Solomon, lieutenant?"
The officer hesitated, for he knew Solomon of old.
"He is a planter, Mr. Smith. His place is about a mile outside town.
I would suggest, sir, that he be----"
"Kindly bear in mind that I am conducting this examination,
lieutenant."
The latter bit his lip and flushed. It was plain that he had no
great love for his superior. The commissioner turned languidly to
Hammer.
"Where is this Mr. Solomon?"
"Out in the jungle somewhere--search me. But he'll be in soon."
"Oh, very good! Lieutenant, you will see that he appears. Now,
Hammer, what physician--er--attended you?"
"I don't know, but he was the same who signed Harcourt's
death-certificate."
"Ah, Dr. Fargo--at present with the _Juba_ at Mombasa. Very good.
Well, Hammer, I can't see that you have any case whatever. Cheek, I
call it. However, they can settle it at Nairobi, and be blessed.
Lieutenant, put the prisoner in the----"
"Look here," Hammer broke out furiously, "I've had about enough of
this farce, Mr. Smith! Now you bear in mind that I'm an American
citizen. Also that I plead not guilty. You hand out what testimony
you have against me or I'll make it hot for you in darned short
order; and if I can't I'll bet a dollar John Solomon can!"
The commissioner gazed at him mildly, then shifted his look to his
lieutenant. What he saw in the latter's face may have decided him,
for with an air of boredom he shuffled the papers before him, fixed
on the right one, and nodded.
"Very good. You are probably aware of the fact that according to the
death certificate of Mr. Harcourt he died from a stab at the hands of
persons unknown, complicated by fever.
"Since that time it has been reported to the authorities at Mombasa
that you inflicted the wound, later getting away in the crowd. It is
also known that you benefited largely by his death, since by his will
you were given ownership of the yacht _Daphne_. Yesterday, you
visited Mombasa, getting away--er--secretly before you could be
apprehended."
"See here, Mr. Smith," exclaimed Hammer earnestly, "this charge is
absolutely absurd. Not only was Mr. Harcourt my best friend, but I
was ill and unconscious at the time----"
"Just a moment--I overlooked that scar on your forehead," broke in
the commissioner, looking up from his papers. Hammer put up a hand
to the scar which had resulted from the fight aboard the launch,
"Yes, that is it. These papers state that--er--it is the result of a
blow struck you by Mr. Harcourt as you stabbed him."
"Confound it all," exclaimed the enraged American, "who's bringing
all these charges, anyway? Dr. Krausz?"
For answer the commissioner glanced at his police officer.
"You detained those fellows, lieutenant?"
"I did, sir, against their protest."
"Damn their protest, my dear chap! Bring 'em in. Since you persist
in going through with this ruddy mess, Hammer, I'll give you all you
want of it."
The American asked nothing better, and began to think that the
commissioner was not so bad after all, having probably been
prejudiced against him from the start. The police officer, with his
sergeant and two men, left the room, Hammer watching the door eagerly
for their return.
Who were these unknown persons? Whoever they were, he reflected,
they had done their work well. The devilish ingenuity of it all was
amazing, and as Hammer never doubted that Krausz was behind the
thing, he began to score up an ugly debt against the scientist.
Except for the evidence which could be brought by Solomon, Sara
Helmuth, and the doctor of the _Juba_, all of whom would not be
suspected by Krausz, the identity of Harcourt's murderer was unknown.
Counting on this fact, Krausz must have worked out the case against
Hammer to the last detail--even to that scar on his forehead.
There was no ultimate danger, of course, but that was not the fault
of Krausz; he must have reasoned that if Harcourt had disclosed the
name of his attacker before he died, it would have set the
commissioner after Jenson.
Therefore he had not disclosed it, and therefore it was perfectly
safe to make out the case against the American--and with a
plausibility which was startling to Hammer himself, certain as he was
of disproving the charge absolutely, on the return of Solomon.
Yet, was Krausz so wholly to blame after all? Could he have known
those little things, such as the scar, and Hammer's ownership of the
yacht? He had been miles away all this time, and while he must have
furnished Jenson with letters to the German Consul, in order to get
the _askaris_, the little secretary must have acted on his own
initiative in regard to this charge.
Krausz was no saint, but he was a sinner only because of his
life-work, his science; he was no plotter in the dark, and the very
theft which had brought him here, which had made him bring Sara
Helmuth with him as a sop to a guilty conscience, was attributable to
the secretary, who was his evil genius. And that Jenson could act on
his own initiative had been shown after Schlak's murder.
Yes, concluded Hammer grimly, he had a godly score to settle with
Jenson. Solomon could handle Krausz, for he had long since
constituted himself the companion of Miss Helmuth, but Jenson was his
own peculiar affair. And, _askaris_ or no, he was going to the ruins
and get Jenson----
At this juncture the door opened. Behind the policeman entered two
of the German sailors from the _Daphne_, and behind him Adolf Jenson.
Hammer said nothing. Thoroughly master of himself by now, he knew
the futility of threats, nor did he want to show Jenson his hand
unless it was necessary. But he soon found that it was highly
necessary for his own safety.
"You are Adolf Jenson?" demanded the commissioner brusquely.
"Yes, sir," and the secretary, more pallid-faced than ever, let his
eyes rest on Hammer's grim face, caught the flame in the American's
eyes, and shifted his gaze abruptly.
Hammer remembered that the lieutenant had stated that Jenson had
remained only under protest. This, then, was why Solomon had not
found him with the _askaris_ in the bush. The two seamen gazed
stolidly at the commissioner.
"You came ashore with Mr. Harcourt from the _Daphne_ the morning of
the 14th instant, according to your evidence sworn to at Mombasa?"
"Yes, sir."
"Who else was with you in the boat?"
"These two men, sir, as well as two more, who are now in camp with
Dr. Krausz, my master."
"State what happened on the wharf."
Jenson licked his lips nervously, but the sight of Hammer under
arrest seemed to give him courage. He had a red weal across one
cheek, which the American took to be the mark of Sara Helmuth's
bullet, fired during the struggle aboard the launch.
"Why, sir, Captain Harcourt had just stepped ashore. I was right
behind him, sir, and there was a crowd of Arabs and natives all about
for the _Juba_ had just come in, and a number of surf-boats had come
ashore from her."
He paused, the telling of the story being plainly distasteful to him.
Commissioner Smith nodded his head, reading one of the papers before
him.
"The captain was a little ahead of me, for I had turned to see that a
man was left in the boat. I saw a man wearing a white burnoose step
close to Mr. Harcourt, and the next minute he had drawn a knife, sir.
"Before any of us knew what was happening, he had stabbed Mr.
Harcourt. The hood of his burnoose fell off, and I recognized Mr.
Hammer there; then the captain grappled with him and struck him.
That's the mark over his eye, sir. It was made by a heavy ring that
the captain always wore."
Jenson was an accomplished liar, thought Hammer grimly. Harcourt had
indeed worn a heavy seal ring. Again the man paused, licking his
lips, his face ghastly, and again the commissioner encouraged him
with a nod.
"Go on."
"He had the hood on again in a minute, sir, but not before we knew
who he was. As Mr. Harcourt fell I tried to reach him, but Mr.
Hammer's knife touched my cheek, just here, sir"--and Jenson
indicated the red weal under his eye. "Then, before we could do
anything more, he had slipped away into the crowd. That's all, I
think, sir."
Jenson stepped back toward the door, in evident relief that his story
was done with. Except for the two native policemen on the bench, he
had the open doorway to himself, since the lieutenant had taken his
stand behind Hammer, one hand on his holstered revolver.
The American eyed Jenson grimly enough, but still in silence. The
thought that was in his mind, occurred to the commissioner at the
same instant.
"Look here, Jenson," said Smith, looking up for the first time, "your
story agrees with the facts as brought out by the inquiry at the
time, except that no such evidence was then given my assistant, who
made the inquiry. I'd like to know why you and these two men, who I
see gave their testimony in German, went down to the German Consulate
at Mombasa after a week had passed, instead of coming to me on the
spot and accusing the murderer?"
"We were frightened, sir," returned Jenson promptly. "Mr. Hammer
threatened us a little later on, when he found that we had recognized
him. It wouldn't have mattered so much to me, sir, but the two men
here are members of the crew, and without their testimony mine would
not have been believed, I thought.
"Mr. Hammer threatened to kill them if they said a word, sir. I went
to the camp of Dr. Krausz, who sent us at once to Mombasa, and then
to Zanzibar, where we produced a number of _askaris_ to guard the
camp, as you know, sir."
"Yes, and I've taken that up with Nairobi, by Jove!" Smith seemed to
wake into life suddenly. "It's a deucedly funny affair that I have
to see German soldiers walk into my district to protect a man! If
Mombasa people hadn't agreed to it not one of 'em would have set foot
in Melindi, and if they aren't kicked out of here inside of two days
I'll hand in my resignation. Confound the insolence of you Germans!"
He glared at Jenson, who cringed abjectly. Hammer, who had only been
forestalled by the commissioner's questions in regard to the delay in
giving evidence, smiled grimly across the stuffy little room at
Jenson, and the smile seemed to discourage the secretary entirely.
Shrinking back, he pointed at the American, his voice shrill.
"I want you to protect me, sir! He's threatened to kill me before
now, and he carries revolvers----"
"Did you search that man, lieutenant?" asked Smith sharply.
Before the officer could reply Hammer drew the two revolvers from his
pocket and laid them on the table, still smiling.
"Kindly observe that they are loaded," he said contemptuously; "also
that if I had desired to make any resistance it could have been done
very easily."
Smith cast a single glance at his officer, who bit his lip again, for
he had evidently forgotten about searching his prisoner for weapons.
The Commissioner forbore to make any observation, however, being
plainly highly incensed over Jenson's action in bringing the
_askaris_ into his district.
"Look here, my man, I've a deuced good notion to send you after those
_askaris_ and ship the lot of you out of here to Mombasa! Confound
it, this isn't your bally German East Africa by a long shot, and if
you think you can carry things with a high hand in my district,
either you or I go, by Jove!"
Jenson did not reply, save by an inarticulate mutter, and shifted his
gaze out of the open doorway, the two seamen consistently inspecting
the boards of the floor. Smith turned to Hammer, gathering up the
papers before him as if his task were done.
"Well, Hammer, I trust you are satisfied that you will get justice
done you? And let us hear no more 'American citizen' talk----"
"Is it customary here to allow an accused man to be heard in his own
defence?" broke in Hammer quietly. He saw that he had started off
badly, and that while Smith did not care a snap about the outcome of
the case, he did care about the dignity of his position and the brand
of justice which he was there to dispense.
"I'm sorry if I offended you at first, Mr. Smith, but I didn't quite
understand the situation and was naturally indignant."
"Why--er--of course, Hammer," assented the other, still with his air
of boredom, as he prepared to write. "Anything you may say, of
course. No deuced use, though, I'll say frankly: you're bound to go
to Nairobi for this thing----"
"Oh, then my accusers will go, too, of course?"
"Naturally," came the dry response. "And under the circumstances I'd
advise you to change your plea there, Hammer."
"Thanks," smiled the American. Jenson, uneasy, was darting swift
little glances at him, but he paid no heed to the secretary. "But
I'd like to go on record as denying the whole affair, Mr. Smith.
When does the _Juba_ come in, may I ask?"
"She's due to-morrow night, and you'll go back on her the next
morning."
Much as he disliked to show Jenson his cards, Hammer saw that he had
no other choice. He did not want to leave on the _Juba_, and he
hoped to delay matters until the arrival of Solomon, with Sara
Helmuth.
If only Potbelly, or Omar ibn Kasim, rather, had understood that last
signal of his! Surely Solomon could not be so very far away by now.
"You still deny the accusation, then?" the commissioner was asking,
with some surprise in his tone.
"Most certainly, sir. Not only do I deny the charge, but through the
evidence of Mr. Solomon, Miss Helmuth, and Dr. Fargo of the _Juba_,
who stayed over here, as you are aware, to attend Mr. Harcourt, I am
prepared to prove that not only was I unconscious at the time of the
attack on Mr. Harcourt, but that I was on board the _Daphne_.
"If necessary, Roberts, the yacht's steward, can be brought out from
England to testify to that fact, since he caught the first steamer
home with certain of Mr. Harcourt's personal possessions.
Furthermore, through the same evidence----"
Hammer paused, unwilling to lay out his whole hand as yet. The
commissioner was staring at him in blank amazement, while Jenson,
more pallid-faced than ever, was still looking nervously out the
doorway. Smith laughed as the American stopped speaking.
"That's a poor game, don't you know, Hammer!" he said incredulously.
"You can't produce your witnesses, it seems, and you're making a play
for time that'll do you no good in the end. Now----"
Suddenly Jenson interrupted, coming a pace forward.
"Beg pardon, sir, but if you think it would be a good plan I can get
a launch at the wharfs and fetch these other two witnesses of mine,
sir, in time to catch the _Juba_. Their testimony would clinch
matters, sir."
"Yes," and Smith nodded, pursing up his lips. "That's a good plan.
Go ahead----"
"Stop him!" cried Hammer sharply, as Jenson sidled toward the door.
He could not make out the secretary's purpose, but it was clear that
Jenson was anxious to get away. "I charge that man with being Mr.
Harcourt's murderer----"
"Enough, Hammer," ordered the commissioner coldly. "Another word and
you go in handcuffs. Get your witnesses, Jenson, and be back here by
to-morrow night at latest."
Furious, barely able to restrain himself, the American saw Jenson
flit hastily from the door, leaving his two Germans still on the spot.
From his position he was unable to see the street, and five minutes
had elapsed during which time Smith was giving instructions as to the
care of the two seamen and preparing his papers, until he ordered
Hammer taken to the little corrugated iron prison.
He stopped the officer to order him to get John Solomon as a witness
when Hammer heard the sentry outside halt some person.
"See who it is, sergeant," commanded Smith impatiently.
The sergeant went out, but came back hurriedly.
"Mr. John Solomon, sar."
And a moment later the overjoyed American saw the pudgy form of
Solomon enter, with the grinning Omar Ibn Kasim at his heels like a
faithful watchdog.