THE BLACK BAG
Sorley shivered and shrank back when he saw the uniform of Inspector
Moon and the two men behind him. Miss Grison, with an exulting look on
her hard face, pointed to her prey, glorying in the way she had trapped
him. And that it was a trap, Fuller now truly believed, since the
police had appeared at so opportune a moment for the capture.
“There he is,” cried the woman excitedly; “take him away, the beast!”
Moon moved forward and laid a heavy hand on the shoulder of the
wretched man, who moaned and trembled at the fatal touch. “I arrest
you, Randolph Sorley, in the name of the King, for the murder of
Baldwin Grison,” he said in unemotional tones, and reciting the
regulation formula; “anything you say now will be used in evidence
against you.”
“I am innocent, I am innocent,” was all that Sorley could say.
“And upon my soul I believe he is,” murmured Alan softly to Dick.
“If so it is just as well to have the whole matter threshed out in a
proper manner,” rejoined the reporter. “How did you come here, Mr.
Inspector?”
Miss Grison replied before the officer could open his mouth. “I
telephoned for him,” she said sharply. “You thought that I left the
room to take medicine, but it was to send for the police.”
“Then you were not ill?” said Latimer taken aback.
“No,” she answered coolly; “it was all acting; didn’t I act well?”
“I told you she was a wicked woman,” moaned Sorley, who stood passively
between the two plain-clothes men.
“Wicked!” repeated Miss Grison with scorn; “if I am wicked, what are
you?”
Inspector Moon made a sign that she should be silent, and explained his
speedy presence quietly. “Miss Grison telephoned to me at Rotherhithe,”
he said; “and as I happened to have business in the Bow Street police
office my clerk repeated the telephonic message to that place. I was
thus enabled to drive here in a cab with my men, in spite of the fog,
although I must say that we drove very slowly. However,” he looked at
Sorley, “we are in excellent time. May I ask what you two gentlemen are
doing here?”
“We brought Mr. Sorley to see Miss Grison at his request,” said
Latimer.
“You should have sent for me as this lady did,” rebuked Moon sharply.
“There was no need,” put in Alan. “Mr. Sorley intended to give himself
up.”
Moon smiled derisively. “I doubt that, seeing how he ran away from his
own house at Belstone.”
“I did so on the impulse of the moment,” cried Sorley, drawing himself
up with some dignity; “but later I saw that my flight gave color to the
charge against me. As I am quite innocent, I intended to give myself up
so that the matter could be inquired into, and I do so now.”
“Because you can’t help yourself,” said Moon with a shrug; “come away,
sir, at once. I have a cab at the door.”
“Oh, I sha’n’t try to escape, for I am innocent,” persisted the old
man; “because I have the peacock it is supposed that I murdered
Grison.”
“It is very good evidence, you know,” Moon assured him.
“It was that woman, who brought the peacock down to The Monastery.”
Miss Grison laughed scornfully. “I told you he would say that,” she
said, addressing Moon, “and I solemnly swear that I did no such thing.”
“You stole it from me over twenty years ago,” cried Sorley insistently.
“I took it, certainly,” admitted the woman coolly, “because you owed my
brother money, and it was necessary to hold something valuable
belonging to you so that he might be paid. You never paid, and
preferred to get back your property, or rather that of your niece, by
crime.”
“It is wholly false.”
“Tell that to the judge and jury,” she sneered, “I warned you that you
would be punished for your iniquity, and now the time has come.”
“The time has not come,” said Sorley furiously; “you have involved me
in difficulties somehow, and I am trapped. But I believe that the
Indian who lives here has been used by you to bring about my disgrace.
He also knew about the peacock——
“Come! come,” interrupted Moon in a peremptory manner, “remember what
you say will be used in evidence against you. Better hold your tongue
and come away at once. I regret to say——” He stepped forward clinking
handcuffs.
“No,” almost screamed Sorley, backing against the wall with a gesture
of refusal, “there is no need for that shame. I won’t run away; I
intended to give myself up, indeed I did, I did.”
“Put them on, put them on,” cried Miss Grison, clapping her hands with
delight, “he murdered Baldwin and deserves punishment.”
“I won’t run away, I won’t run away,” whimpered Sorley piteously.
Alan, sorry for the man, interfered. “Indeed I don’t think that there
is any need to take such a precaution, Mr. Inspector. He really came to
me and Mr. Latimer this evening to surrender himself to the law.”
Dick nodded. “I agree with Fuller,” he remarked, and Sorley cast a
grateful look in his direction, as Moon after a moment’s hesitation
placed the handcuffs in his pocket.
“I won’t put them on in the house,” he said graciously, “so when we go,
no one will see that you have been arrested on so serious a charge. But
in the cab——”
“I don’t mind that,” said Sorley eagerly; “only spare me the shame of
being seen with them on by my fellow-creatures. Oh, dear me, and I am
quite innocent,” he maundered on in a senile way, “quite innocent.
When——”
“Come,” said the inspector imperiously; “I don’t wish to use force.”
“I should drum him out of the house with the Rogue’s March,” said Miss
Grison laughing fiercely, “beast that you are!”
Sorley did not reply, for he was already tottering towards the door
between the two officers, and followed by the inspector. As he passed
out of the room, he turned and looked significantly at Alan, “The black
bag, don’t forget the black bag,” he said, and, as Moon touched him on
the shoulder he went stumbling out of sight. Strange to say no one
attached much meaning to his last words, and Alan himself was
bewildered.
“What the dickens does he mean?”
“Something bad, you may be sure,” retorted Miss Grison malignantly.
“I think Sorley is a better man than you admit him to be,” remarked the
young man indignantly. “Dick, where are you going?”
“I intend to follow Sorley and Moon,” answered Latimer, “come with me.”
“No,” said Fuller with a glance at the landlady, “I wish to ask Miss
Grison a few questions.”
“They won’t be answered,” cried Miss Grison exultingly, “my enemy has
been trapped, and there is nothing left for me to wish for.”
Latimer was so annoyed at the malignity of the woman, that he turned at
the door as her victim had done. “Let me remind you of an excellent
proverb, Miss Grison,” he said quietly: “there’s many a slip t’wixt the
cup and the lip!” and then he went out quietly.
“There will be no slip except that of Sorley when he is hanged,” said
the woman savagely. “Now, you can go, Mr. Fuller, I have no quarrel
with you.”
“There is one on my part, however,” said Alan, taking a seat; “you have
disgraced Marie by this arrest of her uncle.”
“Oh, indeed. And you say that because you love her. Is the course of
justice to be stayed for the tears of a chit?”
“Marie is not a chit,” retorted the lover angrily.
“Yes she is; yes she is,” taunted Miss Grison in quite a schoolgirl
manner. “I hate her, I hated her mother, who made me a slave to her
whims. I hate Sorley, and have paid him out.”
“Not yet.”
“What do you mean with your ‘not yet,’” asked Miss Grison
contemptuously.
“I mean that he may prove his innocence at the trial.”
“He can’t; everything is against him.”
“So far I admit that. But some new evidence may turn up.”
“I don’t care what turns up,” said Miss Grison vehemently; “the man is
a guilty beast and must be punished. I hate him, oh, how I hate him!”
Fuller was about to ask why, when the door opened slightly and the
brown haughty face of Morad-Bakche peered in. “Pardon my intrusion,” he
said in his best English, “but the whole house is in commotion about a
reported arrest. How are you, Mr. Fuller.” He stepped into the room as
he spoke.
“Wait here,” said Miss Grison to Alan imperiously. “I must explain to
these people, as there is no need to make bad worse. Sorley has ruined
me before, and my brother with me. He will ruin me now by coming here
to be arrested, since many of my boarders will leave the house.”
“Let me remind you, Miss Grison, that you are responsible for his
arrest.”
“Because you and Mr. Latimer would have allowed him to escape,” she
said in angry tones. “Better that I should lose every boarder I have
than let that beast go free,” as the murmur in the near drawing-room
increased. She opened the door which Bakche had closed. “Wait here,”
she said again to Alan, and vanished to pacify the inmates of the
establishment.
Left alone with Morad-Bakche, the young man made no remark, as he did
not feel inclined to talk to the man. But he was not permitted to be at
peace, for the Indian advanced eagerly, his eyes sparkling. “Has Mr.
Sorley been arrested?” he asked swiftly and anxiously.
“Yes,” answered Fuller shortly.
“On a charge of murder?”
“Yes!”
“How did he come here?”
“I think you had better ask these questions of Miss Grison.”
“I shall do so,” rejoined Bakche calmly, “when you are gone. But there
is one she may not be able to answer.”
“Probably!” Alan shrugged his shoulders with feigned indifference,
guessing what the question was, and not choosing to reply to it
immediately.
But Bakche was not to be put off by a contemptuous manner. “Has Mr.
Sorley given up the peacock to the police?” he demanded.
“I cannot say. If he has, the police will give it back to me.”
“Why should it be given back to you?”
“Because it is the property of Miss Inderwick; and until her uncle is
free I intend to look after her interests.”
The other man sneered. “I can understand that.”
“If you do, there is no necessity for you to ask questions,” rejoined
Alan coolly. “You are no client of mine, Mr. Bakche.”
“It would be better for you if I were.”
“I fail to see that. You want the peacock, and I don’t intend that you
should have it, or the treasure either.”
“Both belong to me,” cried the Indian angrily.
“I think not. And as our interests are opposed, you can scarcely expect
me to reply to your questions further.”
“But if we join forces, we shall be stronger to learn the truth.”
“Possibly, but if the discovery of the truth—I suppose you mean in
connection with the whereabouts of the treasure—means your having half
the jewels, I prefer to work alone.” Fuller thought for a moment, then
added slowly, “of course Miss Inderwick may be willing to make terms
with you regarding the sharing of the gems on one condition?”
“What is that?” demanded Bakche eagerly, and with flashing eyes.
“She believes her uncle to be innocent, and I am half inclined to agree
with her, notwithstanding the weight of evidence against him. Now if
you can prove his innocence, and thus do a service to Miss Inderwick,
why then——”
“But how can I prove his innocence?” asked Bakche in a puzzled manner.
“I know nothing about the murder.”
“I never supposed you did. However, the proving of Sorley’s innocence
is your affair, if you want to get a share in the jewels.”
Bakche took a turn up and down the room. “I may know more of this
affair than you think,” he said abruptly.
“Probably you do since you say so. Well?”
“Well, if I get Mr. Sorley released can I take your word for——”
“Certainly you can take my word,” replied Fuller stiffly; “and my offer
is such a sporting one, that it is not worth while committing it to
paper.”
Bakche nodded. “I have always found that an English gentleman keeps his
word, sir,” he said cordially, “so on those terms I shall hunt for the
assassin of Grison.”
“Don’t you then believe that Sorley is guilty?” asked Alan suddenly.
“On those terms I shall hunt for the assassin of Grison,” said Bakche
once more. “I decline to speak further, and——” he stopped short as Miss
Grison re-entered the room and moved towards the door. “We can talk
further, Mr. Fuller, when you are more at leisure,” was his final
remark as he stole out and closed the door swiftly behind him.
“What is that?” asked Miss Grison with a searching look at Alan.
“Bakche wants the peacock and the jewels, as he says that they
rightfully belong to him. He wishes me to help him.”
“Will you do so?”
“No. They belong to Miss Inderwick.”
“And you intend to marry Miss Inderwick,” said the woman with a hard
laugh; “well you are wise. But Mr. Bakche is the rightful owner.”
“On what grounds?”
“The Begum’s jewels, which she gave George Inderwick were temple
treasures and should not have been parted with.”
“Hum!” said Alan meditatively. “I remember Bakche saying something
about priests. Is he one himself?”
“No,” answered the woman quietly, “but he is the rightful heir to the
jewels, as you can see from the snakes on his right arm.”
“I don’t see how that proves his ownership!”
“Many of the ornaments are in the form of snakes set with gems.”
“Still I don’t see,” persisted Fuller doubtfully.
Miss Grison sat down impatiently, as apparently the late excitement had
affected her nerves. “I’m sure I can’t explain further. Mr. Bakche
declared that the jewels are sacred and that he wants to get them back.
The snake sign I mention is tattooed on his right forearm twisting in
spirals up from the wrist to the elbow. Ask him to show it to you.”
“I don’t think it interests me,” said Fuller dryly. “Mr. Bakche
assuredly shall not get Marie’s property if I can prevent it.”
“I think the peacock prevents it,” said Miss Grison spitefully. “Until
you guess the riddle you can’t find the gems, and I hope you never
will.’
“Why?”
“Because I hate Sorley, and I hate the girl, and the whole horrible
lot,” she cried furiously.
“So you said before. This conversation is getting monotonous.”
“End it then; I don’t want you. But if you will take my advice you will
give the peacock to Mr. Morad-Bakche. He has sworn to have it.”
“And I have sworn that he shall not have it. Do you think that I am
afraid of a black man, Miss Grison? Moreover I have not got the bird.”
“Oh!” She shrugged her shoulders, “I daresay Sorley has concealed it
somewhere, and will tell you where to find it before he is hanged.”
“He never will be hanged.”
“Yes he will. He can’t escape.”
“Unless it can be proved that you took the peacock to Belstone.”
“I never did,” said Miss Orison coldly; “Sorley made up that story to
account for its possession and to implicate me.”
“Well,” said Alan rising, “I shall ask Jotty, for I verily believe he
is aware of much more than he chooses to say.”
“He has never told me anything,” snapped the woman; “and moreover is
the most ungrateful little reptile I ever met. I gave him a good home
and a new name and food and clothes and every chance of being
respectable; yet he ran away, and heaven only knows where he is.”
“I can’t tell you his whereabouts now, Miss Grison, but I can tell you
in what direction he went on leaving the house a few days ago.”
For the first time the landlady showed some curiosity. “Where did he
go?”
“To Belstone with a copy of your interview in his pocket to warn Sorley
that——”
He got no further, for Miss Grison jumped up with her hard blue eyes
flashing with rage. “The traitor,” she said in an ominously calm voice.
“After all I did for him, he tried to save Sorley, did he?”
“For money?”
“Of course. The boy is a born miser. Well, if he returns here, I shall
know how to punish him. Never mind how; don’t ask; I may box his ears,
or I may have him put in jail for theft.”
“But since you have given him a chance of being respectable why ruin
him?”
“Because he has sided with my enemy.”
“Why do you hate Sorley so?” questioned Fuller, bluntly.
“You wish to know. Then you shall. I hate him because he ruined my
brother Baldwin, because he murdered my brother Baldwin, and because he
deserted me twenty years ago.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean what I say, Mr. Fuller. Do you know who I am? You don’t. Well,
I am Mrs. Sorley.” Alan stared. “His wife?”
“His deserted wife,” corrected the woman bitterly. “Yes; Randolph
married me because I was a pretty girl. But he grew tired of me, and
then he wanted to make a rich lady his wife.”
“Yes; I have heard that,” said Alan recalling the story of his mother,
about Miss Marchmont.
“It was a secret marriage,” said Miss Grison; “he asked me to keep it
secret, as he feared lest his sister, Mrs. Inderwick, should ask him to
leave The Monastery if she learned what he had done. The lady he wished
to make his wife died, or I should have spoken out. But Baldwin forged
that check, and the sole way in which I could prevent Randolph from
putting him in the dock was by promising to hold my tongue for ever. He
gave me money, and I came here to set up this boarding-house. And I
took the peacock to punish him, afterwards giving it to Baldwin.
Randolph fought me, but I said that I would destroy it if he used
force. And then—well,” she broke off abruptly, “can you blame me for
hating this man? He ruined my brother and he ruined me and I—hush!
What’s that? Mr. Latimer!”
It was indeed Dick, who came hastily into the room.
“Alan! Alan, come with me to the police office.”
“What is the matter?”
“Sorley has escaped.”
“Escaped,” Miss Grison screamed, and then suppressed her emotion lest
more trouble should be caused in the house. “How—how did he escape?”
she asked, clenching her hands so tightly that the nails were driven
into the flesh.
Dick was recovering his breath by degrees. “When the cab stopped at Bow
Street police office, and we alighted—that is, when Moon and his
officer and Sorley alighted, for I followed him in another cab—Sorley
suddenly darted away and was lost in the fog.”
There was a look of mingled dismay and anger on Miss Grison’s face at
this unexpected intelligence. She tried to speak and could not, so
Fuller asked the necessary question.
“Didn’t the detective hold him when he alighted?”
“Yes, and there came in Sorley’s cleverness. On the way out of this
house he managed to slip his arms out of the sleeves of that overcoat
he wore and simply left it buttoned on his shoulders. When one of the
men held him by the arm, he suddenly slipped the coat and ran away. Of
course Moon and his underlings followed, but the fog was so thick that
they could not catch him. I arrived a moment later, and then came back
here to tell you.”
“He is guilty, he is guilty,” said Miss Grison persistently. “What do
you say now, Mr. Fuller?”
Alan was puzzled. “He certainly gave himself up,” he remarked.
“And intended to give the detectives and Moon the slip whenever he had
the chance,” retorted the landlady. “Bah! Don’t tell me; the man is the
murderer of my brother, and came here to try and force me to prove his
innocence by admitting that I took the peacock down to Belstone, which
I certainly did not. What is your opinion, Mr. Latimer?”
“I can’t say,” replied Dick with a perplexed air. “To-night, since the
man was giving himself up so frankly, I half believed that he was
innocent. I have my doubts now. But it is a very puzzling case,” ended
Dick with a sigh.
Fuller, preparing to take his leave buttoned up his coat and picked up
his hat. “There is one thing to be said in Sorley’s favor,” he
remarked, addressing Miss Grison, “if he did murder your brother, he
did you a service.”
She threw back her head scornfully. “Oh indeed! I should like to know
in what way, Mr. Fuller?”
“I heard—and Latimer there is my informant—that your brother murdered a
man just outside the opium den he frequented in order to rob him of
watch and money and general jewelry. Since this is the case, Sorley
saved your brother from being hanged, and your name from being further
disgraced.”
Miss Grison’s head drooped. “Inspector Moon told me about the matter,”
she admitted, “and how the watch had been traced. But I don’t believe
Baldwin killed anyone. He was much too kind and thoughtful.”
“My dear lady,” said Latimer impatiently, “let me point out that no one
but yourself entertains this good opinion of your late brother.
According to everyone else he was a bad lot. I regret having to say
this, but you must be just. If Sorley has acted wickedly—and of that we
cannot be sure—your brother is not free from blame. That he murdered
this man is certain, so his own violent death is simple justice.”
“I don’t believe what you say, Mr. Latimer; you are prejudiced in favor
of that beast.”
“On the contrary, as Mr. Fuller will tell you, I have been hot against
the man, Miss Grison. Now I have my doubts of his guilt.”
“In spite of his escape?”
“Yes It is a perplexing case, and until I can gain more evidence, I am
not prepared to give an opinion. Why do you hate him so?”
The woman gave the same answer to Latimer as she had given already to
Alan, detailing the circumstances which led her to become her enemy’s
wife, and emphasizing his desertion. “And I kept silent for Baldwin’s
sake,” she ended in a grating voice; “but he is dead, so there is no
longer any reason for me to deny that I am Mrs. Sorley. Not that I
shall ever take my real name, seeing how my husband has disgraced it.
Now I don’t want you to make any remarks, thank you, Mr. Latimer. You
can go, and you can be sure that I shall do my best to get Randolph
arrested again.”
“You won’t find it easy to discover him in this fog,” said Dick dryly,
and with Alan took his immediate leave, for there seemed no necessity
to remain and listen to Miss Grison’s wrath which was that of an
unreasonable woman obsessed by one bitter idea.
The fog was still thick, and Fuller remarked that he wondered how Moon
had managed to get a cab. “We couldn’t do it, Dick.”
“The fog gets lighter at times and then thick again,” said Latimer
absently. “I suppose when Moon took his cab, traffic was resumed for
the moment.”
“It seems to have stopped now,” answered Alan, trying to peer into the
darkness blurred by the street lamps. “Let us go home. Why do you want
to go to the Bow Street office again?”
“I only wished to learn the latest details with an eye to copy,” said
Dick, “but I think I shall leave things until to-morrow, as I am quite
tired out.”
Having arrived at this conclusion, the two groped their way back to
Chancery Lane and to Barkers Inn. The true reason why Latimer had so
readily yielded to Fuller’s suggestion was that he greatly desired to
learn if Sorley had again sought shelter with them. But on entering
their chambers they found that no one had come during their absence,
and Dick heaved a sigh of relief, which was echoed by Alan.
“I’m glad he didn’t come back,” remarked Alan, “we should have had to
give him up.”
“I think he knew as much, and so did not return. However, the fog will
afford him an excellent chance of escape, and I doubt if he will be
caught a second time. What’s the matter?”
“The black bag,” gasped Fuller, pointing to an article of that
description which was on a chair in the corner of the room, “he
mentioned that when he went away with Moon.” Alan picked up the bag.
“What is in it?”
“The peacock for a hundred pounds,” cried Dick swiftly.
He was right, for when the bag was opened, Fuller found wrapped in the
chamois skin the golden bird, which was the cause of all the trouble.
“Ha!” said Latimer staring at it, “now we can try and solve the
riddle.”