DONNA MARIA EXPLAINS
For once in his life Torry was dumbfounded. He sat with staring eyes,
his mouth open, and his face red, gasping like a fish out of water. Of
all the names connected with the Grent case Frederick Leighbourne was
the last he expected to hear.
"It is impossible," said he, on recovering his speech.
"It is the truth; the manager of the Hampstead bank told me so. He
knows Leighbourne, and said that Leighbourne had no wish to deny who
he was."
Torry jumped up and made for the door, dragging Darrel along with him.
"Come on," said he quickly; "we must see Leighbourne at once."
"Do you intend to arrest him?"
"If I see cause to."
"You'll see no cause of his shewing," retorted Darrel, as they went
downstairs and hailed a cab.
"The man will lie freely."
"Naturally, to save his own neck."
"What! You don't think Leighbourne killed Grent?"
"I don't think anything about it," was Torry's impatient response. "I
am not capable of thinking, as the news has taken me by surprise. Oh,
what ignorant fools the best of us are! Well, we will see if
Leighbourne, junior, has an explanation."
As it turned out young Frederick had an explanation on the tip of his
tongue, and a very feasible one it proved to be. In place of shrinking
from an inquiry into the motives of his conduct, he assumed an
attitude of outraged virtue, and courted Torry's questions. By his own
explanation there was never so upright and badly treated a gentleman
as Frederick Leighbourne, Esquire.
"You dare to connect me with the committal of this crime because I
changed the notes!" he cried, white with suppressed fury. "What right
have you, or either one of you, to make so scandalous a statement?"
"You changed the notes," said Torry feebly, wondering if he was wrong
in suspecting the man.
"Yes, sir I did. I changed the notes at the request of Mr. Grent."
"At the request of Mr. Grent?" repeated Darrel.
"Why?"
"Because Captain Manuel, who gave Grent the notes, wished it."
"That isn't true!" cried Torry. "Manuel was as astonished as I, that
the notes had been changed."
"I don't know about that," retorted Leighbourne sullenly. "All I know
is that a fortnight before his murder, Mr. Grent asked me down to Wray
House and told me that he wanted my assistance in some rather delicate
business. As he was my partner and my father's, I of course, professed
my willingness to serve him. Do you blame me?"
"No; quite right, quite natural. But what was the business?"
"Mr. Grent explained that when in Peru he had become mixed up with
some native society. This year the Government of the Republic tried to
break it up and seize the funds, so the members fled to other
countries with the moneys of the society. One of these members was
Captain Manuel, who brought to England the sum of ten thousand pounds,
which he changed into English bank-notes valued at five hundred
pounds each. As he knew that Grent sympathised with the aims of the
society----"
"What were the aims of the society?" interrupted Darrel.
"Some patriotic rubbish of restoring the Inca rule," said Leighbourne
crossly. "But at all events, Grent sympathised with this aim, so
Manuel asked him to take charge of the money, and it was kept down in
Wray House. Then, according to Grent's story, Manuel came to him, and
said he was afraid that the Peruvian Government might discover the
numbers of the notes and render them valueless by explaining to the
English Government that they were forfeited moneys. To prevent this he
asked Grent to change the notes for others of a like value but
different numbers. Grent, being so well known in the banking world,
was unwilling to change the notes personally, so he asked me to do so.
I agreed and I did so."
"Why did you not change them at the bank of England?"
"Manuel objected to that being done, on account of the Peruvian
Government, so by Grent's directions, I went round to several suburban
banks and so explained the matter that I got all the notes changed
without difficulty. I gave them all back to Grent, who kept them at
Wray House; then, on the Friday before he intended to start for Italy,
he brought them up here and gave them to Vass to put in the safe. That
is all I know."
"And quite sufficient," said Torry wrathfully. "Why did you not tell
us all this before?"
"For two reasons. One was that Grent asked me to hold my tongue; the
other because I was afraid lest you should accuse me of being
concerned in this murder, as you have done," finished Leighbourne,
with a scowl.
"Well, well," said Torry good-humouredly, "you have defended yourself
very well against the implied accusation."
"Implied accusation!" echoed Frederick, with scorn.
"My very words," retorted Torry drily. "I did not accuse you of being
an accessory to the crime or the criminal himself. I did not even ask
you if you had stolen the notes. I merely asked how it came about that
you changed them."
"Well, now you know," said Leighbourne insolently; "and as I have
explained myself, perhaps you and your friend will take yourself off."
Deeming this rude speech unworthy of reply, Darrel left the room
without taking leave of the banker, but Torry halted at the door to
fire a parting shot.
"Young man," said he, wagging an admonitory forefinger at Leighbourne,
"pride goes before a fall; remember that," and leaving the young man
to digest this unpalatable proverb at his leisure, Torry followed the
novelist.
"What are you going to do?" asked the latter, when they were in the
street.
"I am going to see Captain Manuel, and see if he really countenanced
the changing of the bank-notes," replied Torry; "and you?"
"I intend to go at once to Wray House and see Miss Sandoval."
"You wish to find out what she knows?"
"Yes. I'll try and persuade her to tell me the truth."
"You'll be a clever man if you do that, sir. Well, good-bye and good
luck," and Torry turned away. "I say!" he called out.
"Yes," said Darrel, with his foot on the step of a hansom.
The detective retraced his steps, and spoke in a low tone. "I am
convinced of one thing," he said hastily. "Grent had those notes
changed so that he could bolt with them. I don't believe Manuel asked
him to change them.
"Leighbourne says he did."
"Yes, because Grent told him to say so. That good man deceived both
Manuel and Leighbourne. He had the notes on him when he was murdered."
"Oh," sighed Darrel, with a groan, "how you hold to that theory!"
"Because it is a true one," said Torry sharply, "and sooner or later I
am sure we shall be able to prove it is a fact. Good-bye."
Frank shrugged his shoulders and drove off to Waterloo Station, where
in half an hour he took a fast train to Wraybridge. He had not much
faith in Torry's theory, as, with his trained sense of logical
argument, he could not see how Grent, in the face of Vass's assertion,
could have become possessed of the money. He tried to think about the
matter, but love, as usual, interfered with business, and when he
recollected that he would soon see Donna Maria he surrendered himself
to delicious fancies about the coming interview. She--Frank had got
the length of calling Donna Maria "she"--she would be cold, she would
be amicable, she would smile, she would frown, she would do a hundred
and one contradictory things not likely to occur. Truly Frank Darrel
was a very foolish young gentleman to indulge in so confused a
reverie. But he was only twenty-five and he was in love--two excuses
that cover the follies of the majority of mortals.
Shewn into the presence of his goddess, the worshipper grew red and
confused, rather to the surprise of Donna Maria as she had no notion
of the inflamed state of his heart. To put him at his ease, she sought
to induce speech by asking him what he wished to see her about. Then
Frank became more confused than ever, for he did not very well know
how to begin. However, as a beginning had to be made, he spoke to the
point and in a brusque way, by reason of his modesty.
"I have come to tell you how the case is getting on," he said
hurriedly.
"That is very kind of you," replied Donna Maria, half smiling at his
humour, although she secretly wondered what could be the cause of it.
"Has anything been discovered about my poor uncle's murder?"
"Not so much that, as about the bank-notes."
"The bank-notes?" Donna Maria turned pale and spoke nervously.
"Yes, the ten thousand pounds which was stolen from the safe. The
money has been returned to Captain Manuel."
Donna Maria rose suddenly. "It can't be!" she cried, making a step
towards the astonished Frank. "I tell you it can't be!"
"But it is, Miss Sandoval. Captain Manuel has the money now in his
possession."
"Then the assassin of my uncle has been arrested?"
"No, I'm sorry to say he has----"
"Not arrested?" cried Donna Maria, her colour rising and her eyes
sparkling, "and the money returned?"
"The money was returned by an unknown man," said Frank, "and he went
away after delivering the parcel of notes at Captain Manuel's hotel."
"Then that was the assassin. He took the money from my uncle's dead
body. In fact, I believe he killed Mr. Grent in order to rob him."
"But how can that be?" cried Darrel, much perplexed. "Mr. Grent left
the money in his private safe, and did not come back to get it. How
could he have been in possession of the money on that night?"
Maria passed her hand across her forehead and sighed. "True! True!
What am I to do? Oh,"--she wrung her hands--"If I could only speak!"
"You must speak," said Frank, seizing his opportunity, "or else
condemn an innocent man."
"An innocent man? Who?"
"Mr. Frederick Leighbourne. We have found out that he changed some of
the notes, so it is just possibly that he may be accused of the
robbery."
"No, no," cried Maria, much agitated, "it cannot be. Mr. Leighbourne
did not take that money out of the safe, I can prove it."
"Then do so, and save him from possible arrest."
The girl looked wildly round the room, then she ran to the window,
sprang back to open the door and close it again; finally she paused
before Frank and seized his hand. The touch thrilled him.
"Mr. Darrel," she said hurriedly, "you are a gentleman, and I will
trust you. I have kept silent out of fear of the Blue Mummy Society,
but I shall do so no longer. Mr. Leighbourne did not take the money
out of the safe, but I can tell you who did."
"Captain Manuel?" asked Darrel with a start.
"No," she said slowly. "Maria Sandoval!"
"You! You!"
"I--I took the money and gave it to Mr. Grent."
CHAPTER XII
THE LOCKET
The information was so unexpected and terrible that Frank felt the
blood leave his cheeks. Pale as a ghost, he rose from his chair, and
looked at Donna Maria with dilated eyes. From her confession he
fancied that she must be implicated in the double crime, and a feeling
of terror seized him at the idea of the woman he loved having brought
herself within the reach of the law. Donna Maria saw his expression,
and with the swift instinct of a woman, guessed his thoughts. With a
haughty gesture she hung back her head, and her eyes sparkled like
stars on a frosty night as she spoke to him.
"Oh, don't think I have done anything wrong!" she cried defiantly.
"What I did was at the request of my uncle. Sit down, Mr. Darrel, and
I'll tell you the story in detail."
She pointed to his chair with a regal gesture, and when he resumed his
seat faced him with a wonderfully composed look. She began her
confession--as it may be called--tamely enough; but as the story
became more dramatic she warmed to her work, and finished with all the
fire, and fury, and gesticulation of her Southern nature. Frank,
sympathising with her quick spirit, was enthralled by her beauty,
moved by her eloquence, and felt that here was a woman to die for.
"When my uncle took leave of us here to go to Italy," she said, "He
called me into his study, and, after asking me not to reveal what he
was about to tell me, made a confession. That I reveal it now is to
save an innocent man from arrest."
"True enough, Miss Sandoval. But the confession?"
"Was that when in Lima ten years ago--at which time he married my
aunt--he had become entangled with a certain association called----"
"The Peruvian Patriots," interrupted Frank. "I know all about that
society and it's blue mummies. Go on, please."
"Well, Mr. Grent was bound in some way--I don't know how--to assist
this society, under penalty of death. He married, and came to England,
and thought he would hear no more about the matter. But this year,
Captain Manuel, with that ten thousand pounds which belonged to the
Peruvian Patriots, came to London, and called to see my uncle. In his
hands--after reminding him of his connection with the society--Manuel
placed the money, and told him to look after it. My uncle did so, and
kept it in this house. A week before his murder he found on this table
a Blue Mummy."
"Ah! a Blue Mummy--the sign of death."
"Precisely; and with it a letter stating that the money was to be paid
by my uncle to another member of the society, called Centa--a man whom
my uncle had never seen. Failing this, the letter said that Mr. Grent
would be killed. Now," continued Maria, "My uncle was so terrified at
the thought of being secretly assassinated--for he knew the power and
recklessness of the society--that he resolved to obey this letter."
"How did he know that the letter was authentic?"
"By the Blue Mummy. Only members of the Peruvian Patriots possess
these tomb-images, and they are not obtainable in England, or, for the
matter of that, in Peru either."
"H'm! I suppose he was right to believe in the letter? Well, so he
resolved to obey it, and hand the money over to this mysterious
Centa?"
"Yes; but he wished to do so without letting Manuel know, as he was
afraid lest Manuel, enraged at the want of faith shewn to him by the
society, might take the law into his own hands, and assassinate him."
Darrel could not help laughing. "My dear lady," said he, "I am afraid
Mr. Grent must have been a very credulous man. The law does not
countenance wholesale murder in this country, whatever it may do in
Peru."
"But you forget!" cried Donna Maria angrily. "My uncle's foreboding
came true. He was murdered by the society, as the token of the Blue
Mummy left beside him proves; but whether by Manuel or Centa I cannot
say."
"Why," said Frank thoughtfully, "there is something in that; but we'll
discuss the point later. Please continue."
"Well, Mr. Darrel, my uncle determined to take the money up to the
bank in Fleet-Street, and put it in his private safe. Then he
intended to write a letter to Manuel, asking him to call at his rooms
in Duke-Street on Saturday afternoon. He designed to tell Manuel that
the money was in the bank, and that if he wanted to see it there, he
could ask Mr. Vass to show it to him. In the meantime I was to go to
the bank on Saturday morning, on the pretence of getting the tickets
for the journey, which had been purposely left behind, and get the
money."
"But how were you to open the safe?"
"Why, Mr. Grent gave me his private key."
"Oh, I understand; but," added Darrel, "if you were to take away the
money, and Captain Manuel was to be told in the afternoon that he
could see it in the safe, the whole thing would come out, as the money
would not be there for him to see."
"Not at all. You forget that it was Saturday, and Captain Manuel could
not look into the safe before Monday morning. Now, my uncle intended
to give the money to Centa on Saturday night, and then go off to
Italy; so, you see, there was absolutely no danger."
"A very pretty plot," said Darrel drily. "So you agreed to assist in
it?"
Donna Maria flushed red, and responded rather haughtily: "I am from
Lima, and I know how terrible is the vengeance of the Peruvian
Patriots when they are betrayed. I assisted my uncle to save his
life."
"So it all fell out as planned?"
"Yes! Mr. Grent took the money up on Friday, and placed it in the
safe, with Mr. Vass as a witness. Then he went to his rooms, and
telegraphed to me to do my part. I went up on Saturday morning on the
pretence of getting the tickets, and saw Mr. Vass in my uncle's
private room. To get rid of him, I asked him for a glass of water. He
left the room, and I at once opened the safe with the key given to me
by my uncle. When Mr. Vass returned with the water the safe was locked
again, and I had the notes in my pocket. In the afternoon I went to
Mr. Grent's rooms, and gave him the money; then I said good-bye, and
came away: My uncle told me that he had seen Captain Manuel."
"Yes, I know Manuel called; Meek said so; and I suppose Grent told him
to look into the safe on Monday. As a matter of fact, he did not do so
until Tuesday or Wednesday, and then Vass discovered the loss. But
tell me, how did Mr. Grent hope to pacify Manuel?"
"By absence. He intended to write from Italy, and tell him that he had
given the money to Centa; and, as he proposed to remain abroad for
some time, he thought that Manuel's anger would abate, and he would
not wish to harm him when he returned."
"I see," said Frank thoughtfully. "I must say that Mr. Grent provided
for his own safety remarkably well."
"And all in vain, poor man," sighed Maria, "since he was killed by the
society!"
"I don't believe he was," said Darrel bluntly.
"But the Mummy--the Blue Mummy?"
"What about the returned money, Miss Sandoval? Why should the society
instruct Manuel, or Centa, to kill Grent and rob his body, then give
back the money to itself? That's robbing Peter to pay Paul with a
vengeance."
"So it is. I can't understand it at all."
"Then again," said Frank warming, "did you not take two tickets from
the bank?"
"I don't know. Mr. Grent mentioned only one ticket, and it was in an
envelope. But now you mention it, Mr. Darrel, the envelope was rather
thick; there might have been two tickets."
"There were; one for Mr. Grent, the other for Miss Hargone. She had
arranged to elope with Grent; at least, she fooled him into believing
so, but instead of going she sent Julia Brawn, disguised in that
fawn-coloured mantle. Then Grent was killed."
"By whom?" asked Maria, much agitated.
"I can't say. Perhaps that Centa you speak of got wind that Grent was
bolting with the money to Italy, and followed to kill him. But who can
tell? It is all a mystery."
"I don't wish to speak ill of the dead," said Maria, with a sigh, "but
it seems to me that my uncle was acting very badly. That he should
deceive my poor aunt, who loved him so!" And a tear trickled down her
face.
Darrel said nothing, but he was quite satisfied that he knew the
extent of Grent's villainy. He had stolen the ten thousand pounds in
such a way as to throw the blame on Vass, and he had intended to fly
to South America with Lydia Hargone, deserting his wife for a woman
who had deceived him at last. But Providence, which rules all things,
had thwarted his evil plans, and instead of getting away with the
fruits of his iniquity he had met with a cruel death at the hands of
an unknown man. As he had sown, so had he reaped.
"Let me ask you one thing," said Darrel, as he took his leave: "why
did you not tell us this before?"
"Because, in the first place, I promised my uncle to keep silent; and
in the second, he told me that if I spoke the society--since he hoped
to escape it--might kill my aunt. It was for her sake that I kept
silent."
"Lies! Lies! Lies!" thought Darrel. "What a liar Grent was."
When he got back to town he saw Torry and told him the whole story,
whereat the detective was much pleased.
"Didn't I say Grent had the money!" said he, slapping his thigh. "What
a plot to get it, the cunning old fox! I'm almost loth to catch and
hang the man who killed him."
"The hare runs yet on the mountains," said Darrel drily, and took his
leave of the jubilant detective to go home and dream of Maria. The
interview with her had left him more in love than ever.
Next morning he was hardly awake when Torry, wildly excited, burst
into his bedroom, and executed a kind of war-dance. "I've found the
tramp who robbed the dead body of Julia Brawn," he cried, "and he gave
up this locket, which he took from her neck. See, see! It is of gold,
with the letters 'G.V. to J.B.' That is the lover to the lass."
"The lover of Julia Brawn?" said Darrel, jumping out of bed.
"Yes, yes; the man who was with her on that night. The man who killed
Grent."
"But his name--his name?"
"Look at the initials, G.V.--Gustavus Vass. He is the murderer!"
CHAPTER XXIII
A CONFESSION
Here was a discovery. Of all men Torry had least suspected Vass, as he
had doubted the courage and nerve of so effeminate a creature. Yet if
according to the evidence of the locket, he was the lover of Julia
Brawn; and if he had followed her out of jealousy on that fatal night,
there was no doubt that he had killed Grent. Torry explained all this
to Darrel, as that young gentleman was dressing.
"If this, if that, if the other thing," said Frank doubtfully; "much
virtue in if, as Shakspere says. Admitting that Vass was Julia's
lover--which certainly seems probable, judging from the initials on
the locket--you cannot prove that he was with Julia on that night.
She alone could give evidence, and she is dead."
Torry nodded. "I admit there are links wanting," he said; "but as I am
absolutely certain that Vass is the man we want, it only remains to
force a confession out of him by sheer terror."
"How can you do that?"
The detective smiled meaningly, and from his breast-pocket produced a
warrant against Vass.
"I got this an hour ago," he said, "as soon as I learnt the truth from
the locket, I have sent a note asking Vass to come here and see you.
Then, by means of this warrant, I shall so play on his fears that he
will confess the truth."
"And so fall out of the frying-pan into the fire," said Darrel
cynically. "If he holds his tongue, you arrest him on suspicion; if he
confesses, you arrest him on certainty. So, in either case, he is
bound to go to gaol. Silence is golden in his case, Torry; he won't
confess."
"He might not if he was a hardened criminal," said the detective
coolly. "But the man is a weak, hysterical fool, alive with nerves. He
wept at the news of Grent's death; he fainted on seeing the Blue
Mummy. A man who has so little command over himself will not be
difficult to coerce into confession."
"When is he to be here?"
Torry glanced at his watch. "Ten thirty," he said, "and it is almost
that now. I say, Mr. Darrel, it was a lucky thought of mine that the
tramp might have robbed the dead body."
"It was! What made you think of it?"
"Well, he stole the knife in the first place, so I judged he would
help himself to whatever valuables he could find. It seems he did and
pawned the locket he stole. Then he saw one of my handbills offering a
reward, and turned up last night to tell me the truth. I went with him
to the pawn-shop, redeemed the locket, paid my friend two pounds and
congratulated myself that the initials on the locket implicated Vass."
"Are you sure the initials are his?"
"Quite sure. When I first met him I ascertained that his name was
Gustavus, so G.V. can stand for nothing else than Gustavus Vass; the
name is an uncommon one. Besides, he must have guessed that the
unexpected visit of Donna Maria had to do with the transference of the
money to Grent."
"Oh, oh!" said Frank, turning round from the mirror at which he was
brushing his hair. "So you think the motive of the crime is robbery,
not jealousy."
"Both! The motive of the first crime was robbery, of the second
jealousy--and perhaps a trifle of vengeance."
"I don't understand."
"It is not difficult," replied Torry with a shrug. "Listen! In
some way, I can't say how--Vass became aware that Julia, at the
instigation of Miss Hargone, was to meet Grent in Mortality-lane. He
watched and followed, witnessed the interview, and when Grent gave the
money to Julia, sprang forward in a fit of jealous rage and killed
him. Then he forced Julia into the cab, and drove to the end of
Northumberland-Avenue. He took her down to Cleopatra's Needle on some
pretence, killed her out of revenge for her betraying him, and robbed
her of the money. Then he tried to throw her body into the river, but
was interrupted and fled. That is my theory, and a very nice one it
is."
"It would be better," responded Darrel drily, "if it were not so full
of flaws."
"Flaws!"
"Yes. You omit the Blue Mummy altogether; you make Vass decoy Julia to
the Embankment without the shadow of an excuse--why you can't even
invent an impossible one. Finally, you forget that the money was
returned; so it is ridiculous to suppose that Vass would act so
honestly after committing two crimes to gain it. Also, a nervous idiot
like Vass couldn't kill two people in cold blood. He hadn't the spunk
to do it."
Torry laughed at these so-called flaws, which he regarded as puerile;
but out of sheer contradiction was about to contest them, when a faint
and timid knock sounded on the outside door.
"Vass!" said Torry promptly. "Even in his knock I recognise his
sneaking, vacillating nature. Now to try my game of bluff."
With a nod to Frank he went to the door, and shortly returned with
Vass at his heels. The secretary was smartly dressed, and looked cool
and composed, never thinking that his sin had found him out, and that
the smiling little detective had set a trap for him into which he had
walked blindly. There was something ironical in the situation.
"I got your note," said Vass, addressing Frank, when they were seated.
"And I came on here at once. Has anything new been discovered?"
"Oh, yes," replied the detective politely, "something quite new, which
will interest you very much."
"Really; relative to the robbery?"
"No; relative to the murder. Not to keep you in suspense Mr. Vass,"
said Torry slowly, "I may tell you that we know who committed this
double crime."
Vass turned the colour of chalk. "Captain Manuel?" said he faintly.
"No, the man whose name is in this warrant of arrest."
The secretary put out a shaking hand towards the warrant displayed by
Torry, then drew it back with a start. "A warrant of arrest," he
repeated.
"Yes, and for you!"
"For me--me?" His eyes almost started from his head as he pushed back
his chair, and stared terror-stricken at the detective.
"For you--Gustavus Vass, who murdered your master and your
sweetheart."
"It is a lie!" cried the young man, trying to rise, "I killed
neither."
"You murdered both," said Torry sternly, "and I intend to arrest you.
In ten minutes you leave this room for prison."
"But I am innocent!--innocent I tell you," screamed Vass, his brow
beaded with perspiration.
"I--I--I can--I can explain."
In a moment Torry whipped out the locket, and held it out on the palm
of his hand. "Then explain that."
"Ah!" murmured Vass, falling back in his chair, "I am lost."
"I thought so; you confess your guilt."
The accusation seemed to galvanise the wretched creature into life.
"Confess, confess!" he shrieked.
"No, no! I am innocent! I swear it."
"You'd swear anything to save your neck," said Torry coolly. "Come,
sir, I am tired of this, let me put the darbies on."
As in a dream Vass sat limply in his chair while Torry approached with
the handcuffs. But at the first touch of the cold iron on his wrists
he leaped up, and plunging past the detective fell on his knees before
Frank.
"Mr. Darrel! Mr. Darrel!" he implored with the tears streaming down
his face, "help me, for God's sake! Oh, my poor mother. In heaven's
name I am innocent! Don't let him drag me to prison."
"What can I do?" said Darrel moved by this abasement. "I am not above
the law. If you are guilty you must pay for your wickedness."
"But I am innocent."
"Then prove your innocence," cried Torry with a sneer. "I am always
open to conviction."
"I can't speak, I dare not speak!" moaned Vass, hiding his miserable
face in his hands.
"Then keep silence and hang."
The poor wretch shuddered convulsively at the ominous word, and wept
loudly. He cried like a woman, and lay on the floor moaning and
groaning as in pain. Even Darrel was disgusted at this unmanly
conduct, and advised him sharply to leave off whimpering. Torry went
further.
"Get up, you milk-sop, or I'll kick you," he cried. "This is not the
way to meet your troubles. You say you can explain; do so, and save
your neck, if you can."
Finding all his howling did no good, Vass rose to his feet and dried
his eyes. Driven like a rat into a corner, he turned to shew fight.
"Give me a glass of water," said he, "and I'll tell you the truth."
"How you killed Grent," said Torry, while Darrel got the water.
"I did not kill Grent. I never saw him on that night."
"Bah! you are a liar."
"You had better hear what I have to say before you call me that," said
the secretary with some spirit. Then he drank the water, arranged his
disordered clothes, and with more composure than might have been
expected from his former agitation made a strange confession. The
details startled his two hearers not a little.
"Gentlemen," he said, in rather an oratorical way, "I was, as you
know, secretary to the late Mr. Grent, and frequently went down to see
him at Wray House. Sometimes I stayed there for days, and, therefore,
saw a great deal of the household. About a year ago, I fell in love
with Julia Brawn, a handsome girl, who was Donna Maria's maid. I gave
her that locket you showed me, and promised to marry her as soon as I
was rich enough to keep a wife."
"Did you really intend to marry her?" questioned Darrel suspiciously,
"or were you only fooling the girl."
"I intended to make her my wife," said Vass, with dignity. "She was a
good girl, and a beautiful girl, whom I loved very much. When we met
we naturally conversed about those we knew, and Julia was in the habit
of telling me all that went on in the house, I learnt from her that
Grent was in love with Miss Hargone, the governess. Now, at this time,
I knew that he was nearly ruined by speculation; so when he told me
one day that he had ten thousand pounds I doubted him, until he showed
it to me at Wray House. He explained that the money belonged to a
society called the Peruvian Patriots, and explained to me all about
their symbol of the Blue Mummy. Once or twice he said to me that he
wished the ten thousand pounds was his own. Then Miss Hargone made a
confidant of Julia."
"But Miss Hargone had left the house some weeks before Manuel paid the
money to Grent."
"I know that, Mr. Torry, but Julia used to call on Miss Hargone in
London. The governess told Julia that Grent intended to fly to America
with the ten thousand pounds, and had asked her to go with him. She
said she had promised to go if Grent could show her the money in his
possession, and to see it, she had made an appointment with him in
Mortality-lane. Both were to be disguised."
"Why?"
"Because Grent was terribly afraid of the society and had made
Miss Hargone afraid also. They thought it better to meet in some
out-of-the-way spot, where there would be no chance of their being
disturbed. That was why Mortality-lane was chosen. When Miss Hargone
was convinced that Grent had the money she was to return home to her
lodgings in Bloomsbury, and meet Grent the next morning at Victoria
Station. They were to go to Genoa and sail for South America."
"A very nice plot," said Darrel. "But how about Julia going in place
of Lydia?"
CHAPTER XXIV
A QUEER MESSAGE
Vass paused before answering this question and drank some more water.
Now that he had commenced his confession he was much more at his ease,
and seemed disposed to tell all he had hitherto kept back. He smiled
faintly and repeated Darrel's remark before making any reply.
"How about going in place of Lydia?" he said. "Well that was because
Miss Hargone never intended to go to Italy or South America with
Grent."
"But he bought double tickets for Genoa," exclaimed Torry.
"I know he did. I looked into the envelope which contained them when
it was left in Grent's private office. But Lydia was only fooling the
old man."
"In that case why did she make the Mortality-lane appointment?"
"Because she wanted the ten thousand pounds. Yes; her fear of the
society was all feigned, and she suggested the meeting-place and
disguise to Grent so that in the event of any trouble over the loss of
the money, he might be accused by reason of his suspicious conduct."
"The loss of the money," echoed Darrel. "Then she intended to rob him
on that night?"
"She did; but I don't believe she intended murder. On the Friday
night, when all was arranged with Grent, she refused to meet him in
Mortality-lane, and asked Julia to go in her place."
"But why did Julia consent to undertake so dangerous a task?"
"Oh, that was my doing," said the secretary complacently.
"Your doing!"
"Yes. Julia called at the bank next day at noon to acquaint me with
Miss Hargone's proposal. I saw a chance of getting the ten thousand
into my own hands without suspicion, so I urged her to go. I knew from
Mr. Leighbourne that he had changed the notes at Grent's request, so
that they could not be traced by the numbers kept by Captain Manuel.
Grent arranged that to benefit himself. When I heard Julia's story of
Miss Hargone's proposal, I decided that they should benefit me. I told
Julia to go to the rendezvous and get the money from Grent, then meet
me at Cleopatra's Needle and give it to me. The next day I intended to
send a note to the office feigning illness, and in the meantime, leave
England for Australia with Julia and the money."
"You are a scoundrel, I must say."
"No, I am not," cried Vass, flushing. "If Grent had been true to me I
should have been true to him. But he deceived me; he tried to get me
into trouble. I saw him place the notes in the safe on Friday night,
and, remembering that he was to shew them to Miss Hargone at
Mortality-lane, I wondered how he was going to steal them. Donna Maria
came the next day before Julia paid me her visit, and I suspected
something, as it was unusual for her to come to the bank. She asked me
to bring her a glass of water so as to get me out of the room.
Suspecting the trick I watched her through a crack in the door, and
saw her rob the safe. Then I guessed that Grent intended, like the
scoundrel he was, that I should be accused of the robbery. I was so
enraged that I wished to thwart him, and when Julia came with her
story, I advised her to get the money for our mutual benefit. Since by
Grent's cunning scheme to save his own reputation, I was to be accused
as a thief; I did not see why I should not have the money. I felt that
I might as well be killed for a sheep as a lamb, so I do not see that
can blame me."
"Well, well," said Torry, impatient at this moralising; "let it pass.
When one is soaked through, rain does not matter. How about Julia?"
"She obeyed me. The rendezvous with Grent was at midnight in
Mortality-lane, so I arranged to meet her at Cleopatra's Needle at one
o'clock on Sunday morning."
"Why not at your own lodgings?"
"Because it is not wise to leave a trail to one's own door," retorted
Vass, with a cunning look. "Well, Julia went to the rendezvous
disguised as Miss Hargone, in a fawn-coloured mantle which Grent knew
well. She got the money."
"How? By murdering Grent?"
"No; he gave it to her thinking she was Miss Hargone. Then----"
"Well, well; then----"
"I don't know what happened," said Vass helplessly. "Julia had not
time to tell me all, when she was murdered."
"By whom?" cried Torry eagerly.
"By a man I don't know. It was this way. I was at the Needle at one
o'clock, but she did not come. I waited for half an hour and then she
came running to me."
"From which direction?"
"Northumberland-avenue."
"H'm; that agrees with the cabman's story," muttered Torry. "Go on."
"She came up to me at once," continued Vass rapidly, "and thrust the
notes into my hands. I put them into my pocket, and she began to talk
about Grent being dead. I had no time to ask her what she meant, for a
man in a long coat came running along from Northumberland-avenue
direction, and threw himself on her with an open knife. I saw it flash
in the faint starlight. Julia turned to face him with a cry, and the
knife went right into her heart. I was so terrified and amazed that,
as she fell, I took to my heels and ran along in the direction of the
Strand."
"Did the man follow you?"
"Not immediately. From a backward glance I saw that he was bending
over Julia's body, looking for the notes, I suppose. I ran on as hard
as ever I could, but when I was racing up into the Strand I fancied my
haste would look suspicious, so I walked as quickly as I could. In the
Strand I picked up a cab and drove to Hyde Park corner, then I walked
to Victoria Station and took a cab home to my lodgings in Westminster.
I was too terrified to do anything but fly."
"You are sure you were not followed?"
"I fancied I heard the man running after me on the Embankment, but I
am not sure. All I wished to do, since Julia was dead, was to save
myself."
"What was the man like?"
"He had a long coat, a soft hat, and a black beard; but the whole
thing passed so suddenly that I had no time to notice anything."
"Soft hat, long coat, black beard," said Torry; "exactly what Main
described. There is no doubt that the man who killed Grent killed
Julia. Well," he added, turning to Vass, with a grim look, "is that
all you have to say?"
"Yes, all; except that I returned the money to Captain Manuel at his
hotel."
"Oh," cried Darrel, "so you were the red-haired man."
"Yes. I was afraid to go without a disguise lest I should meet Manuel
and be questioned by him."
"Why did you return the money?" asked Torry sharply.
"Because I had no use for it, If Julia had lived I should have taken
her and the money to Australia as I said before, but as that villain
killed her I had no heart to keep it."
"What villain do you mean?"
"The man who killed her."
"Don't you know who it was?"
"If I did," cried Vass, with a light flashing into his usually cold
eyes, "I'd murder him."
"You have no suspicion?"
"No; I can think of no one. Julia might have told me the name. I
daresay she would have done so, but that the wretch killed her."
"Just in time to save himself from being betrayed," said Torry. "And
now, Mr. Vass, why did you not tell us this before?"
"I was afraid of being accused of the murder, so I held my tongue."
"More fool you. You might have saved us a deal of trouble had you been
more open. As it is, I believe your story. You stole the notes, but
you restored them; and I know you are innocent of the other crime.
Well, sir, I won't execute this warrant so you can go back to your
work on one condition."
"What is it?" said Vass, anxiously.
"That you hold your tongue."
"Oh, I'll do that," said the secretary joyfully, and departed in all
haste, glad to have got off so easily in that terrible interview.
"Do you believe his story?" asked Darrel, when the door closed.
"Every word of it," was Torry's prompt reply. "That creature hasn't
the spirit of a rabbit. Catch him committing one murder, let alone
two. Not he; I expect the poor devil has been in torture with this on
his mind. No doubt he is glad I made him confess."
"I don't like him; he's a sneak."
"So he is, and a coward, sir; but," added Torry with emphasis, "he is
not a murderer."
After this conversation the detective went away to seek for more
evidence, and Darrel remained to muse over all that had been obtained.
In spite of all that was known, the case seemed as complicated as
ever, and the mystery as deep. If Darrel had been writing this
criminal matter as a fiction, his ingenuity would have suggested a
fitting ending; but he could not see how Fate intended to work it out.
Perhaps Fate designed to leave her matter-of-fact romance unfinished.
Perplexed by the problem and the apparent impossibility of its
solution, Frank left Fate to conclude her own story, and turned to
continue one of his own. In a few moments he was oblivious to all but
the words which were rapidly filling the paper before him under the
influence of brain and hand.
But it seemed that he was doomed to be interrupted. Just as he was
warming to his work, Blake entered to make a morning call; and as
there was no chance of writing while this rattle-pated Irishman was in
the room, Darrel put away his papers with some vexation.
"Well," said Blake, after the first greeting had passed, "how is the
case getting on?"
"We have found some new evidence," replied Darrel; "but none likely to
please you."
"Why not?"
"Because it proves beyond all doubt that Miss Hargone sent Julia to
that rendezvous."
"Prove it by telling me the evidence," cried Blake flushing.
Darrel was nothing loth. Suppressing the fact that the money had been
returned--a fact which Torry did not want known--he told Blake all
that Donna Maria had said, and all that Vass had confessed. Roderick
listened in silence, but his brow grew black as the story proceeded.
When Darrel ended, he said:
"So Vass has the money; I hope he'll be punished for stealing it. As
to the black-bearded man, I say now, as I said before, that he is
Manuel. That Spaniard, and no other, killed those poor wretches."
"Do you think, from what I have told you, that Miss Hargone knows who
went with Julia to Mortality-lane?"
"She might know," said Roderick scowling. "I'll ask her. Darrel, I am
not at all satisfied with Lydia. If she played fast and loose with
Grent, she will some day do the same with me. She seems to know more
of this black business than she should do, and I'll marry no woman who
is under such a cloud. I'll ask her to explain all about this
Mortality-lane business, and if she can't explain to my satisfaction,
I'll give her up."
"Indeed, I think you will be wise to do so, Roderick. I don't think
she is a good woman. But if she confesses, you must tell me what she
says."
"I'll come and see you as soon as I get the truth out of her. I hope
she is innocent, for I love her, Darrel. But my heart misgives me; God
help me, it misgives me slowly." And Blake, quite changed from his
usual merry self, walked out of the room with hanging head. Darrel was
quite sorry for the poor fellow, but found a morsel of philosophy in
his grief.
"Ah, well," thought he, "Blake isn't the first man who has been
deceived by a woman. It is better to find out a woman's character
before marriage than after. I hope he'll escape Lydia Hargone's
clutches. She's a snake in the grass, if ever there was one."
Two day's afterwards, Torry reappeared in Darrel's room, accompanied
by Vass. Both men were very much excited, and laid before Frank a
letter.
"There," said Torry smoothing out the envelope, "what do you think
that is?"
"A letter to Mr. Vass," replied Frank, looking at the address.
"More than that," cried the secretary in his high, thin voice. "It is
a letter from the man who killed Grent and Julia Brawn."
CHAPTER XXV
THE MEETING IN HYDE PARK
Startled by this intelligence, Frank hastily took the open letter
which Torry handed to him. It was written, or rather hand-printed, on
a small sheet of notepaper, and read as follows:
"If G.V. will meet the writer of this letter near the Achilles Statue
in Hyde Park at eleven o'clock on Friday night, he will be delivered
out of his troubles in connection with the Cleopatra Needle murder.
Come alone, and wait for a stranger to ask for a cigarette light."
"An anonymous letter," said Darrel, when he finished reading the
epistle, "but nothing to show from whom it comes."
"It was written by the assassin," cried Vass eagerly. "I am sure of
it."
"How can you be sure of it?"
"Hush," said Torry, as the secretary was about to speak, "let me
explain. I believe it is from the murderer," he continued, addressing
Frank directly, "as he is the only one of the general public who knows
that Vass is in trouble over this affair. Evidently he recognised Vass
when he murdered Julia, and now wants to see him privately to ask
about the money."
"The money--the ten thousand pounds?"
"Exactly. This man murdered Grent for that money, and when he fancied
that Julia was giving it to Vass he killed her out of revenge. He did
not find the notes on Julia's body, so he followed Vass, who, as you
heard, managed to escape him. Now he thinks that Vass still has the
money, and knows in some way, I can't say how, that he is in trouble
over it. He wants to meet Vass and demand half of the money or perhaps
more; then he will leave England and write a letter to the police
saying that he is the criminal and that Vass is innocent. I am
certain," cried Torry emphatically, "that such is the plot of this
scoundrel."
"It sounds feasible enough. You are going to meet this man, Vass?"
"We are all going to meet him," said the detective promptly; "you can
come too, if you like."
"Certainly. As I saw the beginning of this tragedy, I should like to
see the end."
"It is now Thursday," remarked Torry, "so to-morrow night at half-past
ten, I, you, and a couple of policemen will post ourselves out of
sight near the Achilles Statue. At eleven Vass will come along and
wait to be asked for a cigarette light. Then we will give the
scoundrel rope enough to hang himself, and pounce out to arrest him
when he has given himself away. There has been enough plotting on the
part of criminals," added Torry, rubbing his hands, "so it is time
honest men had their turn to counter-plot."
"What do you think of it all Mr. Darrel?" asked Vass in high glee.
Frank shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what to say," said he,
doubtfully. "You may be right, you may be wrong, but we have had so
many failures that I fear to hope for success."
"Oh, we won't fail this time," said Vass, cheerfully. "Well, Mr.
Torry, if you will excuse me I'll go back to my work. I'll be with you
to-morrow at five as you desire. Good-day, sir; good-day, Mr. Darrel."
The novelist nodded without smiling, for he had no great liking for
the slippery secretary. When the door closed on him he turned an
ironical look on Torry.
"There goes a blackguard who thinks he is an honest man," was his
remark.
"Let him think what he likes so long as he assists us," replied Torry
carelessly. "I know he stole the notes, but he returned them again."
"Returned them out of fear, and in disguise," said Darrel. "The fellow
is a white-livered cur. He hadn't even the pluck to defend that poor
girl Julia."
"Come now, sir; he couldn't. The assassin was too quick for him. But I
agree with you that he's a contemptible hound; but justice must work
with dirty tools on occasion. This sneak----
"Bah! he is not worth talking about," interrupted Darrel
contemptuously; "let's leave him in his native mud. What about the
letter? Have you any idea who wrote it?"
"I told you the assassin of Grent and Julia."
"Have you any idea of his name?"
"I have a suspicion that it may turn out to be someone we know."
"Ha; I guess your idea. Manuel?"
Torry shook his head. "No. Manuel proved an _alibi_, and has cleared
himself in my eyes. I suspect Frederick Leighbourne."
"No!" exclaimed Darrel with genuine surprise. "Why he is the last man
in the world I should suspect."
"All the more reason for suspecting him," replied the experienced
officer. "I have been making a few inquiries about that good young
man, and I have found out that he leads a double life. With his
respectable ass of a father he is all that is worthy and decent, but
under this pious surface he is a scamp and a debauched spendthrift.
Money runs through his hands like sand, and he is in debt to half the
tradesmen in London. Wine, women, cards and racing, Frederick
Leighbourne indulges in them all, and is now at his wits' end to
conceal his iniquities from his father. If that virtuous dunderhead
knew the truth he would kick Master Frederick out of the business, cut
him off with a shilling, and solace his pious soul with texts out of
the family Bible. Oh, I know the creed of the British hypocrite--cant,
cant, and cant again."
"But all this does not prove that Frederick Leighbourne killed Grent."
"Don't you remember our first interview with him," cried Torry
impatiently, "how afraid and nervous he was in how extraordinary a
manner he took the news of Grent's murder? He had changed the notes
for Grent, and knew that there was little danger of them being traced
by Manuel's list. He found out that Grent was going to bolt with the
money----"
"From whom?" interrupted Frank.
"From Lydia Hargone. Oh, you may look surprised, but that woman has
acted like a traitress to all. She deceived Donna Maria for Blake, she
deceived Blake for Grent, she sold Grent for Leighbourne, and I
shouldn't be surprised if she ended in selling him to the gallows. But
to continue. I fancy Leighbourne was the man who went with Julia at
the instigation of the perfidious Lydia. He hoped to make ten thousand
pounds at one haul, and killed Grent to get it. Then Julia, to whom
the money had been given, ran off with it to Vass. Leighbourne
followed and murdered her, but found, too late, that his crime was
useless--that Vass had bolted with the money. What does he do? He
waits a reasonable time, and acts a part to avert suspicion, then he
writes this letter to Vass asking for an appointment. He means to get
that money out of Vass or kill him."
"But Vass has not the money."
"Of course not; but who knows that he returned it? You, I, Manuel,
Vass, and Donna Maria, not Leighbourne. Depend upon it, Mr. Darrel,
we'll have Leighbourne in gaol to-morrow night, and this mystery which
has baffled us for so long, will be at an end."
"Well," said Darrel thoughtfully, "your argument is ingenious. Let us
hope it will prove true."
"Wait till to-morrow night," said Torry drily, and took his leave,
satisfied that he was the smartest detective in London, and the
cleverest man in the wide world.
Darrel passed the rest of that day, and most of the next, in
speculating on the probable result of this expedition. He could not
deny that Torry's theory was ingenious and feasible, but thought that
he was too sanguine. It seemed madness that a man guilty of a double
crime should thrust himself willingly in the way of danger and risk
betrayal. To be sure, he knew that Vass had stolen the money, and
believed that he still had it in his possession, so he, no doubt,
believed that terror of arrest and the desire to keep his spoil, might
influence the secretary in holding his tongue. If the assassin knew
that the money had been returned, and that Vass had repented of his
iniquity, he might have been chary of risking a meeting; but he was
ignorant, and therefore, rash, and there was every probability that he
would be arrested. With arrest would come confession, and so the
mystery of the dual crime would be solved. Still, the truth had evaded
detection so many times, that Darrel could hardly bring himself to
believe that it was about to be brought to light. He thought it
possible but improbable.
The next night, shortly after ten o'clock, he met Torry, who was
accompanied by two constables in plain clothes, and the four men
walked to Hyde Park. The night was moonless, but there was a faint
glitter of starlight, and a certain luminosity in the atmosphere.
There were a great many people in the streets, but when they turned
into the Park itself, they found it almost deserted--at all events, in
the vicinity of the Achilles Statue.
"I wonder that the man appointed a meeting with Vass in so public a
place," whispered Darrel to Torry, as they took up their position in
the blackness under the trees.
"The more public the place, the safer it is," replied Torry
oracularly. "Hush, there is Vass."
In the luminous light the four watchers could see the tall, thin form
of the secretary. He walked to and fro, and circulated round the
statue in a deliberate manner. Several people entered the gates and
passed down the Row, others walked in the direction of the Marble
Arch, still the man who had made this appointment did not come. Vass
looked at the dial of his watch by the glow of his cigarette, and as
he did so the bell of a near church chimed eleven. At once Vass
stepped back, and walked up to a point near the watchers, where they
could overhear the conversation which was likely to take place, and
seize the stranger promptly.
Hardly had he done this, and while the last vibration of the bell
still quivered in the atmosphere, than the figure of a man sauntered
aimlessly across the open space. As he came nearer, Vass saw that he
wore a long overcoat and a soft hat. The man passed and re-passed him,
glancing carelessly in his direction; then he asked, in a pleasant
voice, for a cigarette light, which Vass obliged him with in silence.
As the match spurted and flared, Vass noted that the stranger had a
black beard, and, with a chill, realised that he was in the presence
of the double assassin.
"You received my letter?" said the man abruptly, with a glance round.
"Yes. I am here to answer it; but I don't know why you wish to see
me."
"I'll tell you; come and sit here." And the man walked towards two
chairs, which were almost directly in front of the trees behind which
Torry and his assistants were hiding. By the very irony of Fate, the
wretch had walked directly into the trap set for him by the law.
"Isn't it rather public here," said Vass, sitting down beside the
stranger.
"No. Who can suspect two people sitting quietly together--not the most
suspicious policeman. But now for business. I want that money."
"What money?" said Vass, pretending ignorance.
"You know; the money given to you by the woman at Cleopatra's Needle."
"The murdered woman?"
"Shut up," growled the man between his teeth, "or you'll be in the
same box. I want that money. I perilled my life to get it, and I
intend to have it."
"Suppose I don't give it up."
"Then I'll accuse you as having killed the man and woman. You cannot
defend yourself against my evidence."
"But, you wretch, it is you who are the assassin."
"I may admit as much to you," sneered the man, "as you don't know who
I am, and never will."
"Won't I!" Vass flung himself on top of the miscreant and overset him,
chair and all, on the ground. The man muttered an oath, and pulled out
a long knife; but before he could use it Torry had rushed forward with
his two men and Darrel. In the twinkling of an eye the man was
disarmed and prone on his back. He cursed horribly, and whimpered
between his curses.
"Fetch a light here," cried Torry, "and we'll learn who this murderer
is."
Darrel slipped the slide back of a dark lantern, and turned the blaze
full on their prisoner. He was dark-haired and black-bearded, and
looked more like a shaggy wild bear than a man.
"I don't know him," said Frank to Torry.
"You will in a moment," cried Torry. "I'll swear it is Leighbourne."
"Leighbourne!" repeated Vass, trembling violently.
"Himself--see!" Torry dexterously whipped off a false beard and wig.
Then he sprang to his feet with a wild cry of amazement. In the
white-faced and baffled scoundrel, who was now in the clutches of the
law, he saw not Frederick Leighbourne as he had expected, but--of all
men--Roderick Blake!
CHAPTER XXVI
CONCLUSION
So the last man in the world whom Torry suspected turned out to be the
criminal. Blake was arrested, brought up before a magistrate, and on
the evidence given by Vass, committed, for trial. He pleaded not
guilty, and reserved his defence; but while in prison, bail being
refused, his nerve gave way. Seeing that he could not escape in the
face of the secretary's recognition, and his own admission in the
hearing of Torry, Vass, Darrel, and the two constables, he resolved to
make a clean breast of it. Having been supplied with writing materials
at his own request, he wrote out and signed a confession acknowledging
himself guilty, and describing how he had committed the crimes, This
he handed to the gaol chaplain, and that night, not being closely
watched, hanged himself in his cell by means of his braces. The
murderer died as a suicide--and that was the end of Roderick Blake.
"I hereby declare," so ran the confession, "that I alone killed Jesse
Grent and Julia Brawn. I knew from Lydia Hargone, to whom I was
engaged, that Grent wished to fly to Italy with her and ten thousand
pounds, the property of the Patriotic Peruvians. I wanted to get the
money for myself, but I was afraid to rob Grent openly, lest the
society should trace and kill me. I therefore suggested to Lydia that
she should make an appointment with Grent in a quiet place, ask him to
shew her the money, and then rob him. Thus Grent, as having been paid
the money by Manuel, would be suspected, and Lydia and myself would
escape the vengeance of the society. Lydia made an appointment in
Mortality-Lane, and promised--to gull Grent--that she would elope with
him to Italy the next morning. At the last moment she turned weak, and
refused to go. She proposed that Julia Brawn should disguise herself
as Lydia Hargone in a fawn-coloured mantle, and meet Grent. For some
reason Julia agreed to go at once; but I did not quite trust her, so I
said that I would go also. In case there might be any difficulty, I
wished to receive the money personally; but as Grent would give it up
to no one but Lydia, I resolved to wear her clothes. I was not very
tall, I was clean shaven, and could soften my voice to a feminine
drawl; so it was easy for me to disguise myself as a woman. At first I
determined not to take Julia, but she was so eager to go--I don't know
why--that I resolved to make use of her. To confuse the police, should
there be any trouble about the robbery, I made Julia disguise herself
as a man. She only wore a pair of trousers above her underclothes, a
long great coat, a soft hat, and a black wig and beard. I put on her
dress and petticoat, wore her hat, and Lydia's fawn-coloured mantle,
for Grent to recognise, and a veil. We dressed thus simply as I
intended, to further confuse the police, that we should change in some
obscure spot as soon as the robbery was accomplished. When we went to
keep the appointment I took with me my Spanish bowie-knife, but only
for protection. I swear, by all I hold most sacred, that I had no
murderous intention at the time.
"We arrived in Mortality-lane shortly after midnight, and a few
minutes later Grent appeared in disguise to keep his appointment. At
first he was alarmed at seeing two of us, but I explained--mimicking
the voice of Lydia, which I could imitate very well--that Julia was
the son of my landlady, whom I had brought to protect me in the
midnight streets. Mr. Grent was pacified, and shewed me the notes done
up in one bundle. I wanted to look at them, but he refused to give
them into my hands. I then tried to take them, but did it too
strongly, and Grent suspected something. He snatched at my veil, it
came off, and in the light of a near gas-lamp he recognised me. I was
furious and lost my temper. Grent began to run with the notes. As I
was determined to have them I followed, and threw myself on him. For
his own sake he was afraid to cry out, but struggled with me in
silence. He tore the lace off my cloak; so finding him bent on
resistance, I drew my knife and, watching my opportunity, I stabbed
him to the heart. He fell with a low cry, and when I examined him I
found him stone dead.
"Julia was in a great state; she cried and wrung her hands, until I
thought someone would come. I made her be quiet, and took the packet
of notes off Grent's dead body; these I slipped into the pocket of the
dress I wore. Then I took Julia's arm, and was going away with her,
when it struck me that, to save myself and the girl from suspicion, it
would be a good thing to lay the blame on the secret society. Before I
left home I had put two tomb-images in my pocket, as I thought if
Grent did not give up the money I might produce one, say I represented
the society, and thus terrify him into giving me the ten thousand
pounds. I would have tried this trick if he had not torn off my veil
and recognised me. As it was, in a moment of passion, I killed him. To
avert suspicion and cast it on Manuel, I placed a Blue Mummy on the
ground beside the corpse. Then I took Julia up the lane, we found a
cab and got into it. I told the man to drive to Northumberland-avenue,
near the theatre, as Julia wanted to get out there, saying it was near
her lodgings.
"In the cab we changed our clothes. Julia reassumed her petticoat and
dress, also the fawn-coloured mantle of Lydia, and the hat given to
her by Donna Maria. I put on the coat and hat and black beard. When we
alighted from the cab near the Avenue Theatre and dismissed it, I went
down to the Embankment with Julia, and threw the trousers she had worn
into the river. As I did so, she ran off down the Embankment. Then I
recollected that the bank-notes were in the pocket of the dress I had
worn, and which she now had on. I followed her as quickly as I could,
and found her talking to a man near Cleopatra's Needle. I did not know
who the man was, but, thinking she was betraying the fact that I had
murdered Grent, I became mad with rage. I ran at her with my knife
open, she turned, and I stabbed her to the heart. The man ran off. I
waited to search Julia's clothes for the notes, but could not find
them, so I concluded that she had given them to the man. I resolved to
follow, but first tried to throw the body into the river, so as to
conceal my crime. I dragged it as far as the steps, when I heard
someone coming, and ran off to save myself.
"I went after the unknown man, but could not trace him. I wanted to
know who he was, and get the money back. That was why I wished to
assist in the investigation of the case. As Julia was dead and Lydia
staunch, I thought I would never be discovered. But I fell by my own
folly. Finding out from Darrel that Vass was the man who had taken the
notes from Julia, I wrote a note asking him to meet me, intending to
force him to give them up. He came, and he betrayed me; so now I am in
gaol. I cannot defend myself at the trial, as Vass recognised me; so
it is certain that I shall be condemned to death. I have confessed my
crime, and I have nothing more to do but sign myself as a double
murderer. God have mercy on all who give way to their passions.
"RODERICK BLAKE."
A week after this precious confession, Torry was seated in Darrel's
chambers talking over the matter. The detective was rather downcast,
and Frank was trying to cheer him up.
"After all, you found out who committed the crimes," said he, "and
that wretched Blake has committed suicide."
"Yes; but I expected to find Leighbourne and discovered Blake. Yet I
feel sure that Leighbourne is mixed up in the case."
"And you are right," said Frank soothingly, "perfectly right."
"Right, am I! How so?"
"Well, Vass came to see me this morning in a great state of mind. He
had been kicked out of his billet, because of his connection with this
case."
"By old Leighbourne?"
"Yes; but he is not so furious with that old ass as with his son. Do
you know who returned those notes to Manuel?"
"Why, Vass, of course."
"No. It was Frederick Leighbourne. That young man had a speculation
one which threatened to fail for want of money. Vass, who was devoted
to him heart and soul, got the money for him from Julia. Leighbourne
gave the notes to a stockbroker as security, on condition that they
were not to be put into circulation unless the speculation failed. It
did not fail, and Leighbourne got back the notes, which he sent Vass
to return to Manuel. So you see it was Leighbourne who restored the
notes."
"The deuce!" said Torry. "Why doesn't Vass tell old Leighbourne?"
"He has done so out of revenge, and I heard from Vass that Master
Frederick had bolted this morning to the Continent. Vass intends to
follow him, and, I suppose, make it hot for him for not helping him to
keep his situation."
"The jackal after the lion. I daresay they'll make it up again."
"Not if Lydia can help it."
"Why, what about that beauty?"
"She eloped with Frederick, and, I suppose intends to become Mrs.
Leighbourne. She'll soon send Vass to the right about."
"H'm! A nice couple! She never loved Grent."
"No, nor Blake either; she only loves herself. By the way," added
Frank, "do you think that the story told by Grent to Donna Maria was
true?"
"Not all of it. He lied about the society, and that man he called
Centa. For my part, I don't believe Centa exists. No, Darrel; all
Grent's lies were invented to enable him to clear off with the money.
"Well, Nemesis overtook him."
"Yes; as it overtook Blake. It is no use trying to escape Fate. But
both those men were scoundrels. The only one I pity is Julia, who only
sinned out of love for Vass. She is the true victim. But I was going
to ask you, what about Donna Maria?"
Darrel grew red and confused, as a lover should. "She is going back to
Lima with her aunt. Poor Donna Inez, she has been terribly upset by
all this public scandal and the discovery of her husband's perfidy."
"Pooh, pooh! she is better without the old libertine; but women never
know when they are well off. It is a pity, though, she has lost all
her money.
"Not all. Old Leighbourne says he can save her a thousand a year out
of the general wreck."
"And that is opulence in Peru," said Torry. "Are you going to Peru
also?"
"Why do you ask?" said Frank, blushing again.
"Because since the discovery of Blake's guilt you have been down to
Wray House every day."
"Donna Maria wanted things explained to her."
"Oh, and it took three weeks to explain them. Well when is the
marriage to be?"
"Bosh! I haven't spoken of that yet. In a month Donna Maria goes out
to Lima. I stay at home and work hard."
"To make a home for the future Mrs. Darrel, I suppose. Why don't you
write a novel on this case?"
"Because if I did no one would believe it."
"But it is all true, even to the fact that Manuel remains in London as
the agent for a society of assassins misnamed Patriots."
"I know; but the truth is always improbable in print. But some day I
may soften its improbable truth into my probable fiction."
"With yourself as hero and Donna Maria as the heroine; and a marriage
between you to end the book."
"Well, there's many a true word spoken in jest," said Frank smiling;
"and I think Maria likes me a little."
"Maria! Ah, that settles it. You'll follow her to Lima and marry her
there."
"Well, Torry, why not?"
"Why not, indeed. She is a charming girl. I anticipated as much, and
so I brought with me a wedding present for you."
"Where is it? What is it?"
Torry smiled and placed in Darrel's hands--a Blue Mummy.
THE END
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_W. Jolly & Sons, Printers, Aberdeen_.