A WOMAN SCORNED
It cannot be said that Torry had been particularly lucky hitherto in
elucidating the mystery of the double tragedy. Certainly he had
collected a quantity of evidence, but none likely to indicate directly
the names of the assassins. He suspected that Vass and Donna Maria,
for reasons of their own, were shielding Mrs. Grent; but this belief
had no real foundation in fact. It was incredible that Donna Inez
could have had anything to do with the murder of a husband to whom she
was fondly attached; yet Torry could not explain the conduct of Maria
and Vass on any other grounds than that they knew of something which
implicated the elder woman in the affair. Putting Vass out of the
question, there was no one, save her aunt, whom Maria had an interest
in screening; and Torry was confident that the Spanish girl was
screening someone. She knew the truth, he believed, but kept silent
for the sake of a certain person. Was that person Donna Inez? He could
not, so far as the known evidence went, answer that question.
Darrel had been careful to inform the detective of his interview with
Blake and all that the Irishman had told him. He related the story of
the Blue Mummy Society, and ended with an account of Roderick's
denunciation of Captain Manuel. Torry believed the first, but disputed
the second, although Blake, with red-hot enthusiasm, made out a very
ingenious case against the Spaniard. He declared that Grent must
have taken the ten thousand pounds to deliver to Julia Brawn in
Mortality-lane; that when he had given her the money he had been
attacked and killed by Manuel as having stolen the funds of the
society; that Manuel, not finding the money on his dead body, had
surmised that it was in the possession of Julia Brawn, and, having
followed her to the Embankment, had killed her near Cleopatra's
Needle. Then he had taken the money off her, and had sent it to Paris.
Afterwards, to conceal his crime and gain for himself or the society
an additional ten thousand pounds, he had applied to Grent's bank for
the missing money. "It is as clear as day," said Roderick, "that
Captain Manuel is the assassin."
"Rubbish!" said Torry when the details of this accusation were
submitted to him by Darrel. "Clear as day, indeed! Clear as mud, he
means. In the first place, we have absolutely no proof that Grent was
in possession of the money on the night of his death; in the second,
as the theft was not discovered until three or four days after the
murder, Manuel could not have known beforehand that the funds of his
society were missing; therefore he had no motive to commit the crime.
Again, it has been clearly proved by the evidence of the third cabman
that Julia Brawn, with an unknown man, drove to the Embankment in the
most leisurely manner, and as there were no fourth cab near
Mortality-lane at that time, Manuel, even presuming him to have been
present, could not have followed sufficiently rapidly to have caught
her. Finally," concluded Torry, "the man who was with Julia might have
let Manuel kill Grent, but he would not have permitted him to
assassinate Julia."
"But the man might have been Manuel himself," urged Frank.
"He might have been, if you go by the evidence of the two blue images
which Manuel, as a representative of the society, might have placed by
the bodies. But, ignorant of the loss of the money, Manuel had no
motive to kill Grent. No, Mr. Darrel, whosoever killed these unlucky
people, it was not this Spanish gentleman."
"Yet if you go by the story of Blake, the two victims undoubtedly were
killed by order of the society."
"I grant you that," admitted Torry quickly, "and as Manuel represents
this cut-throat association, I'll have him watched."
"Why not have him arrested?"
"Because I have not sufficient evidence to obtain a warrant for his
arrest," said Torry. "Also," he added with emphasis, "I prefer to play
a waiting game."
From this position Torry was not to be moved. Nothing could convince
him of Captain Manuel's guilt; and certainly the Spaniard acted in
every way like an innocent man. He came daily to see the detective and
ask after the case. He offered to submit himself to the authorities
for examination, and this offer having been accepted, gave an account
of the Patriotic Peruvian Society. His story was similar to that of
Blake, but he denied that the members of the society were in the habit
of assassinating people. They were actuated, he declared, by the
purest of motives, and sought to gain their ends by upright methods.
Manuel also confessed that several of the tomb images had been stolen,
and might have been placed by the assassin near the body to implicate
the society in the crimes. The Spaniard also explained that he had
passed the evening of the murder, first at the theatre, and afterwards
at the house of an acquaintance, where he was playing cards until a
late hour. This account was corroborated by several witnesses, and it
was conclusively proved that Manuel could not have killed Grent or
Julia Brawn. Torry was triumphant at this confirmation of his opinion.
"You see, Mr. Darrel, I was right," he said, rubbing his hands.
"So far as Manuel is concerned, you are, Torry; but I believe that the
society had the murders committed. Manuel may not have done the deeds
himself, but he instructed the murderers."
"Nonsense! I believe jealousy was the motive of the double crime."
"And I believe the motive was robbery! Grent stole the ten thousand,
and was murdered for the sake of it."
"In that case, the society, as represented by Manuel, could not have
killed him, as he did not know that the money was lost."
Darrel groaned. "You are beginning the argument all over again, my
good fellow," he said, stopping his ears. "For my part, I do not
believe that the truth will ever be discovered."
And, indeed, it seemed as though Frank spoke with the spirit of
prophecy; for three or four days passed without anything of importance
being discovered. Torry tried in vain to ascertain the whereabouts of
the stolen notes, the numbers of which he obtained from Manuel. Not a
single one could be traced; so it seemed as though the assassin,
fearful of the outcry which had followed the committal of the double
crime, had hesitated to put them into circulation. At the time of the
inquest the robbery had not been mentioned, as the loss had not been
discovered until afterwards. Torry therefore carefully kept the fact
of the theft from the reporters.
"It is foolish to put everything in the newspapers," said he shrewdly,
"as details of our doings only reveal our plans, and when in print may
put the assassin on his guard. He would learn our hand, but we should
not know his. For my part, in these sorts of cases I would not allow a
single detail to be published until the criminal had been secured. The
Press oftentimes does more harm than good."
While Torry was thus fuming and fretting, and wondering what step it
would be best to take a lady called to see him at his private office.
She was tall and majestic, dressed in black and deeply veiled, and
refused to give her name save to the detective himself. When alone
with him in his room, the unknown raised her veil and revealed the
countenance of an elderly woman; she was long past her youth, but
looked still beautiful, and there was a fire in her large dark eyes
which shewed that she possessed a haughty and fiery spirit.
"I am Mrs. Grent," she said in a low voice, with a strong foreign
accent.
"Donna Inez?" said Torry, thrown off his guard by the announcement.
The lady bowed. "I look for you at the police-yard," she said quickly,
"but you not there; they tell me you here, so I come. Have you in your
hands that assassin?"
"No, ma'am, not yet. I regret to say that we cannot find him."
"Why you say _him?_" demanded Donna Inez abruptly.
"Why!" echoed Mr. Torry in astonishment, "because I believe the
assassin to be a man."
"It is wrong, sir. A woman killed my husband."
"A woman?"
"Yes, one known. Miss Lydia Hargone! Ah! the base wretch!"
"You are not serious, Mrs. Grent?" cried the detective, much amazed.
"By our Saints, I talk true!" retorted the Spanish woman, her eyes
flashing brilliantly.
"Sir, I will speak! They are against me; Maria and this Lydia."
"Ah!" muttered Torry quickly, "I wonder if it is Miss Hargone who is
being screened by Donna Maria and Vass." He raised his voice and
addressed Mrs. Grent: "Why should they be against you, madam?"
"Lydia for her wickedness; Maria being governed by that evil one. I
did not speak at Wray House; I saw you not as they would have told
me--'Ah how foolish! Ah! how wrong!' So, sir here I come to tell you
that my husband was killed by Lydia Hargone. Smiling traitress!"
"How do you know?" asked Torry sharply.
"I am sure, I swear!" Donna Inez crossed herself rapidly. "By the Holy
Mother, I swear!"
"Have you any proof?"
"No; but listen. I will tell. I love my husband, he loves me. We were
happy as angels in Paradise till came that evil Lydia. Then she make
the eyes, the smiles at my husband. Oh, yes; for why--because she
poor, she wish money, much money. My husband, poor fool, he smile on
her, he angry with me, yet good wife I was this long time--ah, sir,
ten year. This old man, he love her, and I--ah, it so suffocates me to
speak it--I am thought not of, I am neglected. Yes, yes, it is true.
I--I--I--Inez Sandoval, was left for her--perfiding one," and in her
rage Mrs. Grent shook her two fists in the air.
"Why did you not turn her out of the house?" asked Torry.
"I? Who am I?" replied Donna Inez with a bitter laugh. "No one--a wife
not loved. I rage, I speak, I implore for her to go; but no, no, no.
My husband he say: 'Stay! stay!' and the accursed one stops. Then I
say: 'You go, or I depart for Peru. Ah!'"
"So Miss Hargone left Wray House?" said Torry, seeing that Donna Inez
was too overcome by passion to speak further.
"Yes, she leave," continued Mrs. Grent, when she recovered her speech.
"I say: 'you go, or I go,' so she go. But I know she met my fool
husband in this city."
"Ha!" exclaimed Torry, recollecting the visit of Lydia to the
Duke-street rooms on the fatal Saturday.
"Yes, yes; and I swear she fly with him. He say: 'I go to Italy.' Oh,
yes, I know that, but not alone; she go also. My husband meet her to
fly. Then she see he too old and kill him by her lover."
"What--Mr. Blake?"
"No, no; she say she love him, but that one big lie. She love young
Leighbourne."
"Impossible!" cried Torry, utterly taken aback.
"I tell you, yes. Blake think she love him; but no, she love Mister
Leighbourne. Oh, yes, I swear it. You see that wretch and speak."
"Yes, I'll see her, madam; but whether she loved your husband, or
loves Leighbourne or Blake, I'm sure she did not commit the murder."
"Ki! Ki Ki!" cried Donna Inez derisively, and took her leave.