DR. BINJOY PROTESTS.
Silence ensued after this astounding statement had been made by Sir
Louis, during which time Fanks narrowly observed the personality of
the speaker. The baronet was a tall, and rather stout young man, with
a round face, destitute of beard and moustache. He was shabbily
dressed in an old tweed suit. He wore spectacles, and his shoulders
were slightly bowed as from constant bending over a desk. His
appearance was rather that of a studious German than that of a young
Englishman, but Fanks, from this hasty observation, judged him to be
of a sensible and reflective nature. Such a man would not make so
terrible an accusation unless he was able to substantiate it on every
point.
Binjoy arose to refute the accusation of his quondam pupil. "That
man," he said, pointing an unsteady hand at the baronet, "is lying. He
hates me because I know his secrets. For their preservation he seeks
to destroy me. But if I fall he falls also; if I am guilty he is
doubly so. Let him speak and admit that our sin is mutual."
"I admit nothing of the sort," retorted Sir Louis, coming forward.
"You tell your story, and I shall tell mine. Mr. Fanks can judge
between us."
"You had better be careful, Louis," said Binjoy, with an attempt at
bravado. "I hold you in the hollow of my hand."
"We will see," said Fellenger, coldly. "Be seated, Mr. Fanks. Before
you leave this room you shall hear my story, and decide as you think
best. I refuse to be the accomplice of that man any longer."
"Louis, I implore you."
But Fellenger turned a deaf ear to the voice of the charmer, and sat
down near Fanks, to whom he addressed himself. "For the sake of Binjoy
I concealed the truth; out of pity for him I held my tongue; but when
he strives to make me an accomplice in the crime, when he attempts to
blackmail me by threatening to inform you of our doings on the night
of the twenty-first of June, I prefer to forestall him, and let you
know the worst of myself."
"You were listening to our conversation, Sir Louis?" said Fanks.
"I was," replied the baronet, coldly. "I know what Mrs. Jerusalem
thinks; I know how Binjoy has been lying to you; and I am sick of
living on the verge of a precipice, over which that man and my
housekeeper threaten to push me. At any cost you shall hear the truth
so far as I am able to tell it to you. Ask what questions you like,
Mr. Fanks, and I shall answer them; when I fail no doubt the worthy
doctor there will come to my aid, and shield himself if possible at my
expense."
"I shall say nothing," said Binjoy, wiping his lips. "My only desire
is to save myself from the consequences of your falsehoods. I wish you
no harm."
"Just hear him!" cried Louis, in a mocking tone. "Would you believe
that my friend there threatened to blackmail me last week by saying he
would denounce me to the police. Well, Binjoy, here is a
representative of the law. You can now speak. I give you full power to
do so."
Binjoy did not accept this challenge. He sat back in his chair to
listen to the forthcoming conversation, and to defend himself if
necessary.
"Well, Sir Louis," said the detective, "I have heard your accusation
and the denial of Dr. Binjoy. Until I hear your story and his I attach
no value to either."
Binjoy drew a long breath of relief. "I can defend myself," he said,
in a defiant tone. "I can prove to you that Louis lies."
"You shall have ample opportunity of doing so," replied Fanks, coldly;
"in the meantime I shall hear what Sir Louis has to say."
"I must begin at the beginning," said Louis, quietly. "That man Binjoy
was the doctor in this village of Damington. When my father died
leaving me an orphan--for my mother had died some years before--he
asked Binjoy to look after me."
"And I have done so," broke in Binjoy, "and this is my reward."
"This is your reward for trying to blackmail me," said Fellenger,
dryly. "You did your best to ruin me, and to put bad thoughts into my
heart as to Gregory's wealth and my own poverty. See here, Mr. Fanks,"
added Louis, turning to the detective, "I am a man of science; I am
devoted to my work. I wanted neither money nor title, and I would not
have lifted a finger to obtain either. I did not like Gregory; he was
a brutal and wicked boy, and when we were playmates together he
treated me like a dog. I never saw him for years. We never
corresponded or treated each other as relatives, but for all that I
did not wish him evil; I did not desire his death; least of all did I
desire to rob him of his titles and lands. Do you believe me, sir?"
Fanks looked at the open face of the young man, and glanced at the
scowl which rested on the countenance of Binjoy. Drawing his own
conclusions, he replied quietly, "I believe you, Sir Louis; proceed,
if you please."
"Binjoy," pursued Louis, "was always lamenting that I was not the
owner of the Fellenger estates; and now that I am he hopes to make me
pay him large sums of money to purchase his silence."
"What does he threaten to accuse you of?" said Fanks.
"Of murdering my cousin under the disguise of the negro Caesar, but I
am innocent, Mr. Fanks, as I hope to prove to you. I was trapped by
that man and his accomplice, Dr. Turnor."
"Ah!" murmured Fanks, while Binjoy scowled. "I was sure that the
ferret had something to do with the matter."
"Of that you shall judge for yourself," said Fellenger. "Have you
heard of Mithridates, Mr. Fanks?"
The detective was rather astonished at this apparently irrelevant
question; but having some knowledge of ancient history, he said that
he had heard of the monarch. "He was a king of Pontus, wasn't he; who
lived on poisons?"
"Exactly. He accustomed himself to taking poisons for so long that in
the end the most deadly had no effect on him. I always thought that
this was a fable and I wanted to see if I was right. For this purpose,
I tried experiments on dogs. I inoculated an animal with a weak
poison, and gradually increased the dose. Whether I was successful
does not matter; it has nothing to do with my story. But I may tell
you this, that, with the aid of Binjoy, I prepared a very powerful
vegetable poison for my final experiment; with this I impregnated a
needle."
"Oh!" said Fanks, "now I am beginning to see. Was it an ordinary
needle?"
"No, it was not an ordinary needle," replied Fellenger. "In the first
place it was silver; in the second, it was hollow; in the third, it
was filled with this deadly vegetable poison, of which I told you."
"Prepared by Dr. Binjoy?"
"Prepared by both of us," said Binjoy, savagely. "Let him take his
share of the guilt."
"I am not guilty. Mr. Fanks can judge of that for himself when I tell
him what I know," retorted the baronet. "Well, Mr. Fanks, we prepared
this needle and placed it in a case; for the least prick with it meant
death by blood poisoning. We intended to use it on the dog, when the
animal was sufficiently saturated with weaker poisons to admit of the
experiment being made. You may be sure, sir, that I was very careful
of that needle; I placed it in my cabinet. Dr. Binjoy had access to
that cabinet."
"I had not," contradicted Binjoy.
"Yes, you had; you possessed a key as well as myself," retorted Sir
Louis, sharply.
"I did not," said the doctor, obstinate in his denial.
"Don't lie, Binjoy, I found you with it opened one day; the day Anne
Colmer was with you, and I was so angry."
"Oh, Anne Colmer knew about this needle?" said Fanks.
"I can't say," said Fellenger. "While I was living at
Taxton-on-Thames, Miss Colmer sometimes came to the house. But I was
angry at Binjoy for opening that cabinet in her presence, as there
were a lot of dangerous drugs in it."
"She touched none of them," growled. Binjoy.
"Oh!" said Fanks, sharply. "Then you admit that you showed Miss Colmer
the cabinet of poisons."
Binjoy scowled, and grew a shade paler; as he saw that he had over
reached himself. However, he said nothing, lest he should make bad
worse; and, with a significant glance at Fanks the baronet resumed his
story.
"One day, in the middle of June," said Fellenger, "I found the needle
missing; and Binjoy told me he had given it to Turnor."
"I did not say that," exclaimed Binjoy, wrathfully. "I said that I
missed it one day when Turnor was in the laboratory; and I thought
that he might have taken it. As it proved, he did not. I know no more
than yourself who took it."
"We will see," said Louis. "I was ill at the time: and when Binjoy
hinted that Turnor had it, I determined to go up to London, and get it
again. I rose from my bed of sickness and went up to London on the
evening of the twenty-first."
"But was it necessary that you should have gone up?" said Fanks,
"would not a line to Dr. Turnor have done?"
"Probably. But the preparation of the poison was a secret, and when I
heard that the needle was in Turnor's possession, I was afraid lest he
should analyse the preparation. I went up to town with Binjoy post
haste to recover it again. This haste may appear strange to you, Mr.
Fanks; but you do not know how jealous we men of science are of our
secrets. But, at all events, we went up to town that evening. Do you
deny that, Binjoy?"
"No, I don't deny it," retorted Binjoy, gloomily. "Mr. Fanks tracked
me to Plymouth; he knows that I am Renshaw."
"I do. May I ask, Dr. Binjoy, why you took a false name?"
Binjoy pointed to his friend. "It was to save that ungrateful man," he
said, in a tragic voice. "When I saw you at the Red Star, and found
out that it was Sir Gregory who had been murdered, I foresaw how you
might suspect Louis as the cousin of the dead man. Mrs. Boazoph sent
for Dr. Turnor, I came instead of him, leaving Turnor with Louis. I
had been to the Red Star before, and Mrs. Boazoph knew me as Renshaw."
"And you wore a false beard. How was that?"
"I used to go up to London to enjoy myself," said Binjoy,
apologetically, "and I did not want any rumours to creep down to
Taxton-on-Thames concerning my movements. This is why I adopted the
false name; and disguise."
"Did you know of this?" said Fanks, turning to Louis.
"I do now, I did not then," said he, promptly. "When I arrived in
town, I went with Binjoy to Dr. Turnor's house in Great Auk Street.
Turnor denied possession of the needle. Shortly afterwards, a message
came that the landlady of the Red Star wanted Turnor. I would not let
Turnor leave the room; as I felt sure that he had the needle, and
thought that he might make away with it. Binjoy went in his place; but
he had no disguise on when he went out of the house."
"I put it on outside," explained Renshaw, alias Binjoy. "I did not
tell you all my secrets, as you were always so straight-laced, you
might have objected to my enjoying myself."
"I should certainly have objected to your disguising yourself, and
going under another name," said Louis, coldly, "I do not like such
underhand doings. I did not know that you went to the Red Star as
Renshaw; when you came back I had gone."
"Ah!" murmured Fanks, "that accounts why we didn't catch you. The
house was not watched till Binjoy came back. Did you return to
Taxton-on-Thames?"
"Yes. I returned without the needle, which Turnor denied having. I
felt very ill, and got into bed at once."
"Was Mrs. Jerusalem in the house, then?"
"Yes. Binjoy, as I afterwards learned, had sent her out. It was part
of the trap. He wanted to make out that I had got rid of the woman so
that I could go up to town and kill my cousin."
"When did you hear of your cousin's death?"
"The next day. Turnor came down; and said that Binjoy could not return
as he was being watched by detectives."
"Quite so. And Turnor told you about your cousin's death?"
"He did; and then he said that if I did not hold my tongue, and
pretend that I had not left Taxton-on-Thames that night, I should be
in danger of being accused of the crime. What could I do, Mr. Fanks; I
saw my danger, I held my tongue."
"Yes," said Fanks. "I can see why you were afraid. You were in a
dangerous position."
"I was in a trap," retorted Louis. "Can't you see, Mr. Fanks. Gregory
was killed with a poisoned needle. I had talked about that needle to
many people. Many scientific men knew that I was experimenting with
it. I was in Turnor's house at the very time that the crime was
committed."
"And you were thereby able to prove an alibi."
"Indeed, no. Turnor told me that he needed money; and he swore that he
would deny that I had been in his house; that he would denounce me as
the murderer of my cousin, if I did not give him a cheque. I could do
nothing, I was afraid; the circumstances were too strong for me. I
would have told the police; but in the face of Turnor's denial; in the
face of Binjoy's treachery in luring me into that house at the very
time of the murder, I dreaded lest I should be arrested and condemned
on circumstantial evidence. And the negro, Binjoy's servant, was
smuggled off to Bombay by Binjoy, to close the trap more firmly on
me."
"That's a lie," said Binjoy. "I sent the negro away to Bombay to avert
suspicion. I feigned a voyage to Plymouth for the same reason. I
ordered Caesar to meet me at Plymouth; and sent him to Bombay in my
place."
"I know you did," said Fanks, "you no doubt did that when I lost you
in the town after you disembarked."
"Well, you see, Mr. Fanks," said Louis, "that I am innocent. I held my
tongue, and lied about Binjoy, because I was afraid of the
circumstantial evidence which might be brought against me. Thanks to
Binjoy and Turnor, I was in a trap; I was at their mercy. I have told
you all because Binjoy tried to blackmail me last week. Now what do
you say?"
"Say, Sir Louis. I believe that you have told the truth. You are
innocent of this crime. But the question is, what does Dr. Binjoy
say?"
"I say that there is not one word of truth in the whole story," said
the doctor, with a scowl.