EVIDENCE AT THE INQUEST
As may be guessed, the double tragedy caused a great sensation in
London. That a respected banker should be murdered by an unknown
woman, and she in her turn should be assassinated by an unknown man,
was such an unusual occurrence that for quite a week nothing else was
talked of. The newspapers had leading articles on the subject pointing
out how negligent the police must be, when such terrible events could
happen in the heart of the most civilised capital in the world. People
of the busy-body type wrote letters to different editors suggesting
various courses to be adopted to discover and capture the unknown
assassin; and in street, drawing-room and club, discussion on the same
subject waxed hot and furious. However, nothing tangible resulted from
this storm in the teapot. "Words, words, words!" Hamlet's remark
applies peculiarly to newspapers.
The inquest was held on the two bodies on Tuesday afternoon, three
days after the committal of the crime. Torry, as having the conduct of
the case in hand, had summoned the three cabmen as witnesses; also he
had called upon Darrel to tell his story; had subp[oe]naed Leighbourne
to identify the body; and had requested Vass to give evidence relative
to the behaviour of the deceased before his final departure from the
Fleet-street office. In fact, the detective did all he could to reveal
the truth to the jury, but in spite of every effort the assassin of
the unknown woman could not be discovered, or even indicated. Never
was there so mysterious a case.
The most important piece of evidence brought forward at the inquest
was the production of the weapon with which the crime had been
committed. On the steps of Cleopatra's Needle a long, cruel-looking
Spanish knife, which was kept open by a strong spring for the safer
delivery of the blow, had been found by the tramp who had discovered
the body. At first he had kept the weapon to himself; but on the
chance of making some money out of it, he had taken the knife to
Torry, who gave him ten shillings for it; and later on it figured
before the eyes of an intelligent jury, along with the clothes of the
victims and the two Blue Mummies.
These last excited a great deal of curiosity, as they lifted the
murders from a commonplace tragedy up to the level of romance. All
sorts of wild ideas were afloat as to the reasons for their presence
about the bodies of the victims; but not one person was able to give a
feasible explanation. On the whole, all the evidence collected was
sparse and unsatisfactory; so that the jury, directed by the coroner,
were only able to arrive at the commonplace verdict that the dead man
and woman had been killed by some person or persons unknown. The
public and press were both furious at this tame verdict, but on
consideration confessed that they could think of no better one.
Afterwards the arrival of an Eastern potentate in London attracted the
notice of the fickle public, and the Blue Mummy Case was quite
forgotten. After the inquest people said that the truth would never be
known, and tacitly relegated the double tragedy to the shelf kept for
undiscovered crimes. The mystery which had begun in Mortality-lane was
a greater mystery than ever.
"You might as well look for a needle in a haystack as try to find out
the truth of this affair," grumbled Darrel, when matters were in this
position.
"If that is your opinion, sir, you had better climb down," replied
Torry drily. "You came into the case at your own request, so it is
quite reasonable for you to withdraw if you feel inclined."
"Do you intend to go on with the matter?" asked Frank, surveying the
little man with amazement.
"Of course. It is not play with me as it is with you, but work; and I
have to earn my bread and butter. Guided by the evidence we have in
hand, I intend to proceed immediately. The victims are dead and
buried; but the truth about them is not known. It is my duty to find
out and punish the wrongdoers."
"The wrongdoer, you mean," said Darrel, speaking in the singular. "We
know who killed Mr. Grent."
"Pardon me, Mr. Darrel, but that is just what we do not know."
"The woman who was murdered----"
"Did not kill the banker. No, I am sure of it. A female of her slight
build would not have had the muscular energy to drive a weapon through
cloth and wool straight into the heart of a strong man so as to kill
him at the first stroke. A pistol, yes--for that weapon is as fatal in
the hands of a woman as in those of a man; but a strong, long, steady
stroke, involving unusual muscular exertion--to say nothing of the
nerve power necessary. No, Mr. Darrel; I decline to believe the woman
guilty. Depend upon it she was a victim, not an assassin."
"Well," said Darrel quietly, "victim, or not, she was certainly an
accomplice, else she would not have emerged from Mortality-lane with
that man. You must admit that he must have killed Grent."
"Of course," assented Torry calmly. "I thought as much from the time I
heard the evidence of the third cabman. But what I wish to learn is,
why the man required the woman to be present; and why did he permit
her to interview her assassin by herself?"
"How do you intend to obtain an answer to these questions?"
"By finding out the name of the dead woman."
"That is impossible!" declared Darrel emphatically.
"By no means," replied Torry coolly. "In fact, I have done something
already towards discovering the name; and my discovery narrows still
more the ground which we are exploring. To be precise Mr. Darrel,
everything points to the motive for the crime being discovered in Wray
House."
"In what way?" asked Frank, much astonished.
"I'll answer your question by asking another, sir. Do you remember how
we traced the name of Grent by means of the initials on his shirt?"
"Yes. I remember quite well."
"I resolved to apply that method to discover the dead woman's name."
"But there were no marks on her linen," cried Darrel.
"I know that," said Torry, rubbing his plump hands together, "but
there was the name of a fashionable milliner stamped on the lining of
the hat the dead woman wore. I went to see that milliner--Madame Vert,
of Regent-street--and I discovered that the hat was made for Miss
Sandoval."
"For Donna Maria," said Darrel; then, on receiving a nod from the
detective, he asked: "How did her hat come to be worn by the dead
woman?"
"I must find that out from the lady herself," replied Torry; "but you
can see for yourself that this discovery connects Wray House with the
crime."
"Possibly. But does it never strike you that the Bank in Fleet-street
may have some connection also? For my part, I mistrust Leighbourne."
"You have no cause to do so; there is absolutely nothing to connect
him with the crime."
"What about his agitated demeanour?"
"Pooh, pooh!" cried Torry briskly. "Of course the man was agitated on
hearing of Grent's terrible death. You can't judge a man in such
circumstances. Now, to my mind, the fainting of Vass at the sight of
the mummy is more suspicious."
"I thought he explained that?"
"He does--and in a way likely to upset my theory. Vass declares that
he saw the Blue Mummy on Grent's table; and it was the sight of it
again in connection with the crime which made him faint. The
explanation is rather feeble. Still, if Grent had the mummy in his
possession, he could not have received it from his assassin; and if he
did not, how was it found beside his dead body."
"I can't say," admitted Darrel thoughtfully; "but of one thing I am
certain: that the Blue Mummy is the clue to the whole mystery. What
about Captain Manuel?"
"Why do you mention him?" asked Torry abruptly.
"Well," said Frank slowly, "it seems to me that the double tragedy has
to do with Peru. Everywhere we turn we are met by Peru. In the first
place, the mummy is a tomb image from the sepulchre of some Inca of
Peru. In the second, the knife discovered was a Spanish-American
bowie, which could only have come from the New World. In the third,
Grent's wife and adopted child are Spanish ladies from Lima. Finally,
Captain Manuel is from Peru, and is the confidential friend of the
dead man. What do you make of all this?"
"That Grent was murdered by Manuel?" sneered Torry.
"No; but that we must look in South America--in Peru--in Lima for the
motive of the crime. Grent was there many years ago; he brought home a
Spanish wife; so who knows but what he might have made some enemies
there who swore to kill him, and accomplished the tragedy of the other
night."
"That might explain Grent's death," said Torry, nursing his chin in
his hand, "but it does not reveal why this unknown woman should have
been killed. Yet I am sure that the same motive will account for both
deaths. Oh!" cried the detective, in despair, "If I could only find
out that motive."
"Question Donna Inez," suggested Darrel. "She, if anyone, will explain
the reason."
"Why so?"
"Because if my theory is correct she may remember if her husband made
enemies in Peru."
"Peru! Peru! You have that Peru on the brain. No," said Torry, "I may
see Donna Inez later, but first I intend to search the rooms of
Grent."
"The chambers in Duke-street?"
"Yes. Leighbourne is going to meet me there this afternoon, and we are
going all through Grent's private papers in search of a possible
clue."
"I wonder you did not search there before."
"There was no time," replied Torry tartly. "I have had a lot to do in
getting evidence for the inquest. Now that is over, and the victims
are buried, I can go forward."
"It is a week since the murder," said Frank, "and someone may have
been in Grent's chambers to remove all incriminating papers."
"The assassin you mean?"
"Possibly."
"Well," said the detective, "there is something in that; but I doubt
it, as the butler who keeps the rooms would not be likely to let
anyone into them during the absence of his tenant. However, I'll see.
Will you come?"
"No, thank you," replied Darrel. "I find my detective fever has passed
away."
Torry uttered a prophecy. "On the first discovery of any note you'll
get that fever again," said he.