"DE MORTUIS NIL NISI BONUM"
"A man and a woman!" repeated Darrel thoughtfully. "Who told you that,
Mr. Torry?"
"The third, cabman," replied the detective. "Main is his name. I found
him along with Henry and Bike on the cab-stand near Mortality-lane."
"Had you any difficulty in making him speak?"
"No, not the least. He was quite willing to give information and
assist the police in every way. Why do you suggest a difficulty?"
"Why," said Darrel, "if this man and woman were actually the assassins
it is possible they might have bribed Main to silence."
"And hereby roused his suspicions," retorted Torry sharply. "Nothing
of the sort. Main did not know what lay down the lane, so there was no
need for the pair to purchase his silence."
"They came out of Mortality-lane?"
"Yes. Main says that after the other two cabs drove away, he almost
decided to go home himself as he despaired of getting a fare at so
late an hour. However, on the chance he waited for twenty minutes or
so, and his patience was rewarded shortly before one o'clock. A man
and a woman came out of Mortality-lane, and got into the cab which
drove off."
"Then it left just before our cabs came back?"
"No doubt; the assassins ran the thing very fine. Well the woman told
Main to drive to Northumberland-avenue near the theatre. There the two
alighted and dismissed the cab."
"What did they do next? I suppose Main noticed in which direction they
went?"
"No, indeed," replied Mr. Torry with a vexed air. "He got his money
and went straight home, leaving the man and woman standing on the
pavement in front of the Avenue Theatre."
"What route did he take from Mortality-lane to Northumberland-avenue?"
"Down Arundel-street and along the Embankment," replied Torry
promptly.
"I suppose," said Darrel reflectively, "that he did not notice any one
near Cleopatra's Needle as he drove along?
"No, I asked him if he did, but he declared that he was too much taken
up with managing his horse, which was rather unruly, to cast a look to
right or left. He drove to his destination, then returned home by
going up the Avenue."
"Can he describe the pair?"
"H'm!" said Torry dubiously, "not very clearly. The woman was tall,
fair-haired, dressed in black and veiled. I know all that, as I have
seen her dead body and dress. The man was not so tall as the woman,
with a black beard, and wore a soft hat and a long overcoat almost to
his heels. He was slender and silent, leaving the woman to give the
directions and pay the fare."
"Were they agitated?"
"The man seemed more agitated than the woman."
"Perhaps he killed Mr. Grent."
"Perhaps he did; we have no evidence to shew who struck the blow. But
who is Mr. Grent?"
"The dead man. He is, or rather was, Mr. Jesse Grent, the banker."
"Oh!" said Torry, rubbing his plump hands with much satisfaction "you
have found out that much. This case is becoming important, for Mr.
Jesse Grent is well known, I can tell you. He is very rich, very
philanthropic, and two years ago stood for Parliament in the
Conservative interest. Now I wonder what took so respectable a man
into so disreputable a neighbourhood. In disguise, too. H'm, it looks
queer. Mr. Grent is not so good as I thought him."
"You may as well speak in the past, Torry; the man is dead."
"Dead! Murdered!" said the detective, thoughtfully. "A sad ending for
a virtuous man. Tell me all that you learnt from Harcot."
"I have told you all," replied Darrel. "The shirt was made for
Jesse Grent, of Waybridge, and of Grent and Leighbourne, Bankers,
Fleet-street."
"Quite so," said Torry, getting on his feet. "Well, where Harcot's
information ends Mr. Leighbourne's may begin. Come along, Mr. Darrel,
let us pay a visit to Fleet-street."
"Very good. Wait till I put on my coat."
While Frank was getting ready for the visit Torry employed his time in
making notes in his secretive little book. Incidentally he inquired
about the Blue Mummy, and on receiving an explanation about the
ancient Peruvians and their customs, evinced some disgust at the
unsatisfactory result of Darrel's visit to the archæologist. Still, he
thought the information worth noting.
"Doesn't seem to bear much on the case," he said philosophically.
"Still, there is no knowing how important it may be."
"I agree with you there," said Frank taking up hat and gloves. "That
Blue Mummy, to my mind, symbolises something which may elucidate the
whole mystery."
"It sounds too romantic to have any practical value," grumbled Torry,
as they went out. "It is a far cry from London to Peru."
Notwithstanding the diversion of opinion, the subject seemed to be of
so little importance that both novelist and detective dropped the
discussion. In a few moments they found themselves in a hansom, and
rattled quickly eastward until they descended before the unpretentious
building, which was one of the most famous private banks in the City
of London. The firm of Grent and Leighbourne was nearly one hundred
years old, having been established shortly after the French Revolution
and was much patronised by county families. It had been founded by Mr.
Ebenezer Grent, who had afterwards taken his chief clerk, Leighbourne,
into partnership. It was the grandsons of this pair who were now the
representatives of the bank, and one of these, Jesse Grent, had been
barbarously assassinated in Mortality-lane. As yet, to all
appearances, the catastrophe of his death was unknown.
"They would have the shutters up else," said Torry who had commented
on this fact to his companion. "Depend upon it, Mr. Darrel, you and I
are about to startle the firm of Grent and Leighbourne."
In answer to the detective's inquiries the visitors were requested to
give their cards, which were taken into Mr. Leighbourne. In a few
minutes his bell rang and they were shown into a soberly-furnished
room, which was occupied by a handsome young man. He was about thirty
years of age with curly black hair and a small black moustache smartly
pointed so as to give him quite a jaunty air. Elegantly dressed he
seemed rather like a West End dandy than a sedate, methodical banker.
With all the composure of a man of the world he received his visitors,
but there was an uneasy look about him which did not escape the
vigilant eyes of Torry.
"Be seated, gentlemen," said he, waving his hand towards two chairs.
"I understand you wish to see me?"
"Are you Mr. Leighbourne?" asked Darrel, who could not conceal his
astonishment at the age and appearance of the banker.
"I am Mr. Frederick Leighbourne, sir. Perhaps it is my father you wish
to see. In that case I must inform you that he is now in Paris, where
he has been for some weeks. In his absence, and in the absence of our
other partner, Mr. Grent, I act as the representative of the firm."
"Mr. Grent!" repeated Torry slowly. "He is absent also, then?"
"Yes. He left for Italy last Saturday."
"Are you sure?" asked the detective, meaningly.
"Certainly. Mr. Grent told me he was going. No doubt he is in Milan by
this time."
"I am afraid he is not, Mr. Leighbourne."
The young man turned pale and looked from one to the other of his
visitors. "What do you mean?" he asked anxiously.
"I mean," said Torry, "that Mr. Grent has taken a longer journey than
you are aware of."
"A longer journey? How do you know?"
"Because I am a detective."
Leighbourne became even paler than before, and pushed back his chair
with a quick, nervous movement. "A detective!" he muttered faintly.
"Why--why does a detective call on me?"
"To inform you of Mr. Grent's death," interposed Darrel, astonished at
this unnecessary display of emotion.
"Dead! Mr. Grent dead!" Frederick Leighbourne rose in an indescribable
state of emotion. "Why, on Friday last, when he said good-bye to me,
he was in excellent health."
"Health has nothing to do with the death," said Torry drily. "Have you
heard of this Mortality-lane murder?"
"Yes, yes; that is, I saw--I saw something about it in the
evening papers," stammered the banker hurriedly; "but it has
nothing--nothing----"
"It has everything to do with Mr. Grent, if that is what you mean,"
said Darrel. "On Sunday morning last, shortly before one o'clock, your
partner was murdered!"
"Murdered!" Leighbourne's voice leaped an octave. "Oh my God!"
"Stabbed to the heart!"
"But by whom--by whom?"
"By an unknown woman."
Leighbourne's face, which had changed from white to red, and then back
again, assumed an expression of profound astonishment. "A woman!" he
repeated. "Murdered by a woman! Impossible! I thought----" Here he
checked himself on observing the attentive attitude of his auditors.
"Is the woman in custody," he asked calmly.
"No," replied Torry, who had noted the hesitation of the young man.
"She is dead also."
"Dead also," repeated Leighbourne--"but not murdered?"
"Yes; she was stabbed to the heart by some unknown man."
"Has he been arrested?"
Darrel could not forbear a dry laugh. "If he had been arrested, Mr.
Leighbourne, he would not be unknown. No; the murderer escaped, and we
have come to ask you to assist us to find him."
Leighbourne resumed his seat with what appeared to be an air of
relief. "I!" he murmured. "Good Heavens, gentlemen, how can I possibly
assist you?"
"Oh," said Torry, looking keenly at the young man, "that is very easy.
You may know of something in Mr. Grent's past life which may supply
the motive for this crime."
"I know nothing of Mr. Grent's past life but what is good and honest,"
the banker answered.
"My dear sir," said the detective, "you know that when there is any
trouble, one must always look for a woman. Now----"
"There is no woman in this case," interrupted Leighbourne sharply.
"Oh, pardon me, sir. Mr. Grent was killed by a woman. And a short time
ago you were beginning to make some remark thereon, when you stopped
and changed the subject."
Leighbourne coloured, and looked embarrassed. "I did so because I
thought it impossible that Mr. Grent could have met his death at the
hands of a woman. So far as I know, he was never connected with one.
"Was he not married?" asked Frank.
"Oh, yes; but of course I mean, with any other woman than his wife.
Donna Inez is different."
"Donna Inez? Who is she?"
"Mrs. Grent; but as she is a Spanish-American, she prefers to be
called so."
"A Spanish-American," repeated Darrel, "from South America?"
"Yes, she is a native of Lima."
"And Lima is in Peru. Strange!"
Darrel looked at Torry and Torry gazed at Darrel. Mrs. Grent came from
Peru; and the Blue Mummy had been obtained from a Peruvian tomb. The
coincidence--if it was one--was strange.