Red Money

by Fergus Hume

  CHAPTER XV.

  GUESSWORK.

  Whether Miss Greeby found a difficulty, as was probable, in gettingSilver to hand over the forged letter, or whether she had decided toleave the solution of this mystery to Mother Cockleshell, it isimpossible to say. But she certainly did not put in an appearance atLady Agnes Pine's town house to report progress until after the newyear. Nor in the meantime did she visit Lambert, although she wrote tosay that she induced the secretary to delay his threatened exposure. Theposition of things was therefore highly unsatisfactory, since theconsequent suspense was painful both to Agnes and her lover. And ofcourse the widow had been duly informed of the interview at the cottage,and naturally expected events to move more rapidly.

  However, taking the wise advice of Isaiah to "Make no haste in time oftrouble," Agnes possessed her soul in patience, and did not seek outMiss Greeby in any way, either by visiting or by letter. She attended ather lawyers' offices to supervise her late husband's affairs, and hadfrequent consultations with Garvington's solicitors in connection withthe freeing of the Lambert estates. Everything was going on verysatisfactorily, even to the improvement of Lambert's health, so Agneswas not at all so ill at ease in her mind as might have been expected.Certainly the sword of Damocles still dangled over her head, and overthe head of Lambert, but a consciousness that they were both innocent,assured her inwardly that it would not fall. Nevertheless the beginningof the new year found her in anything but a placid frame of mind. Shewas greatly relieved when Miss Greeby at last condescended to pay her avisit.

  Luckily Agnes was alone when the lady arrived, as Garvington and hiswife were both out enjoying themselves in their several ways. The pairhad been staying with the wealthy widow for Christmas, and had not yettaken their departure, since Garvington always tried to live atsomebody's expense if possible. He had naturally shut up The Manorduring the festive season, as the villagers expected coals and blanketsand port wine and plum-puddings, which he had neither the money nor theinclination to supply. In fact, the greedy little man considered thatthey should ask for nothing and pay larger rents than they did. Bydeserting them when peace on earth and goodwill to men prevailed, orought to have prevailed, he disappointed them greatly and chuckled overtheir lamentations. Garvington was very human in some ways.

  However, both the corpulent little lord and his untidy wife were outof the way when Miss Greeby was announced, and Agnes was thankful thatsuch was the case, since the interview was bound to be an important one.Miss Greeby, as usual, looked large and aggressively healthy, bouncinginto the room like an india-rubber ball. Her town dress differed verylittle from the garb she wore in the country, save that she had afeather-trimmed hat instead of a man's cap, and carried an umbrella inplace of a bludgeon. A smile, which showed all her strong white teeth ina somewhat carnivorous way, overspread her face as she shook handsvigorously with her hostess. And Miss Greeby's grip was so friendly asto be positively painful.

  "Here you are, Agnes, and here am I. Beastly day, ain't it? Rain andrain and rain again. Seems as though we'd gone back to Father Noah'stimes, don't it?"

  "I expected you before, Clara," remarked Lady Agnes rather hurriedly,and too full of anxiety to discuss the weather.

  "Well, I intended to come before," confessed Miss Greeby candidly."Only, one thing and another prevented me!" Agnes noticed that she didnot specify the hindrances. "It was the deuce's own job to get thatletter. Oh, by the way, I suppose Lambert told you about the letter?"

  "Mr. Silver told me about it, and I told Noel," responded Agnes gravely."I also heard about your interview with--"

  "Oh, that's ages ago, long before Christmas. I should have gone and seenhim, to tell about my experiences at the gypsy camp, but I thought thatI would learn more before making my report as a detective. By the way,how is Lambert, do you know?"

  "He is all right now, and is in town."

  "At his old rooms, I suppose. For how long? I want to see him."

  "For an indefinite period. Garvington has turned him out of thecottage."

  "The deuce! What's that for?"

  "Well," said Agnes, explaining reluctantly, "you see Noel paid no rent,as Garvington is his cousin, and when an offer came along offering apound a week for the place, Garvington said that he was too poor torefuse it. So Noel has taken a small house in Kensington, and Mrs. Tribbhas been installed as his housekeeper. I wonder you didn't know thesethings."

  "Why should I?" asked Miss Greeby, rather aggressively.

  "Because it is Mr. Silver who has taken the cottage."

  Miss Greeby sat up alertly. "Silver. Oh, indeed. Then that explains whyhe asked me for leave to stay in the country. Said his health requiredfresh air, and that London got on his nerves. Hum! hum!" Miss Greebybit the handle of her umbrella. "So he's taken the Abbot's Wood Cottage,has he? I wonder what that's for?"

  "I don't know, and I don't care," said Agnes restlessly. "Of course Icould have prevented Garvington letting it to him, since he tried toblackmail me, but I thought it was best to see the letter, and tounderstand his meaning more thoroughly before telling my brother abouthis impertinence. Noel wanted me to tell, but I decided not to--in themeantime at all events."

  "Silver's meaning is not hard to understand," said Miss Greeby, drilyand feeling in her pocket. "He wants to get twenty-five thousand poundsfor this." She produced a sheet of paper dramatically. "However, I madethe little animal give it to me for nothing. Never mind what argumentsI used. I got it out of him, and brought it to show you."

  Agnes, paling slightly, took the letter and glanced over it withsurprise.

  "Well," she said, drawing a long breath, "if I had not been certain thatI never wrote such a letter, I should believe that I did. My handwritinghas certainly been imitated in a wonderfully accurate way."

  "Who imitated it?" asked Miss Greeby, who was watching her eagerly.

  "I can't say. But doesn't Mr. Silver--"

  "Oh, he knows nothing, or says that he knows nothing. All he swears tois that Chaldea found the letter in Pine's tent the day after hismurder, and before Inspector Darby had time to search. The envelope hadbeen destroyed, so we don't know if the letter was posted or deliveredby hand."

  "If I had written such a letter to Noel," said Agnes quietly, "itcertainly would have been delivered by hand."

  "In which case Pine might have intercepted the messenger," put in MissGreeby. "It couldn't have been sent by post, or Pine would not have gothold of it, unless he bribed Mrs. Tribb into giving it up."

  "Mrs. Tribb is not open to bribery, Clara. And as to the letter, I neverwrote it, nor did Noel ever receive it."

  "It was written from The Manor, anyhow," said Miss Greeby bluntly. "Lookat the crest and the heading. Someone in the house wrote it, if youdidn't."

  "I'm not so sure of that. The paper might have been stolen."

  "Well." Miss Greeby again bit her umbrella handle reflectively. "There'ssomething in that, Agnes. Chaldea told Mrs. Belgrove's fortune in thepark, and afterwards she came to the drawing-room to tell it again. Iwonder if she stole the paper while she was in the house."

  "Even if she did, an uneducated gypsy could not have forged the letter."

  "She might have got somebody to do so," suggested Miss Greeby, nodding.

  "Then the somebody must be well acquainted with my handwriting,"retorted Lady Agnes, and began to study the few lines closely.

  She might have written it herself, so much did it resemble her style ofwriting. The terse communication stated that the writer, who signedherself "Agnes Pine," would meet "her dearest Noel" outside the bluedoor, shortly after midnight, and hoped that he would have the motor atthe park gates to take them to London en route to Paris. "Hubert is sureto get a divorce," ended the letter, "and then we can marry at once andbe happy ever more."

  It was certainly a silly letter, and Agnes laughed scornfully.

  "I don't express myself in that way," she said contemptuously, andstill eyeing the writing wonderingly. "And as I respected my husband a
ndrespect myself, I should never have thought of eloping with my cousin,especially from Garvington's house, when I had much better and saferchances of eloping in town. Had Noel received this, he would never havebelieved that I wrote it, as I assuredly did not. And a 'motor at thepark gates,'" she read. "Why not at the postern gate, which leads to theblue door? that would have been safer and more reasonable. Pah! I neverheard such rubbish," and she folded up the letter to slip it into herpocket.

  Miss Greeby looked rather aghast. "Oh, you must give it back to me," shesaid hurriedly. "I have to look into the case, you know."

  "I shall not give it back to you," said Agnes in a determined manner."It is in my possession and shall remain there. I wish to show it toNoel."

  "And what am I to say to Silver?"

  "Whatever you like. You can manage him, you know."

  "He'll make trouble."

  "Now that he has lost this weapon"--Agnes touched her pocket--"hecan't."

  "Well"--Miss Greeby shrugged her big shoulders and stood up--"just asyou please. But it would be best to leave the letter and the case in myhands."

  "I think not," rejoined Agnes decisively. "Noel is now quite well again,and I prefer him to take charge of the matter himself."

  "Is that all the thanks I get for my trouble?"

  "My dear Clara," said the other cordially, "I am ever so much obliged toyou for robbing Mr. Silver of this letter. But I don't wish to put youto any more trouble."

  "Just as you please," said Miss Greeby again, and rather sullenly. "Iwash my hands of the business, and if Silver makes trouble you haveonly yourself to thank. I advise you also, Agnes, to see MotherCockleshell and learn what she has to say."

  "Does she know anything?"

  "She gave me certain mysterious hints that she did. But she appears tohave a great opinion of you, my dear, so she may be more open with youthan she was with me."

  "Where is she to be found?"

  "I don't know. Chaldea is queen of the tribe, which is still camped onthe outskirts of Abbot's Wood. Mother Cockleshell has gone away on herown. Have you any idea who wrote the letter?"

  Agnes took out the forged missive again and studied it. "Not in theleast," she said, shaking her head.

  "Do you know of any one who can imitate your handwriting?"

  "Not that I know--oh," she stopped suddenly and grew as white as thewidow's cap she wore. "Oh," she said blankly.

  "What is it?" demanded Miss Greeby, on fire with curiosity. "Have youthought of any one?"

  Agnes shook her head again and placed the letter in her pocket. "I canthink of no one," she said in a low voice.

  Miss Greeby did not entirely believe this, as the sudden hesitation andthe paleness hinted at some unexpected thought, probably connected withthe forgery. However, since she had done all she could, it was best, asshe judged, to leave things in the widow's hands. "I'm tired of thewhole business," said Miss Greeby carelessly. "It wouldn't do for me tobe a detective, as I have no staying power, and get sick of things.Still, if you want me, you know where to send for me, and at all eventsI've drawn Silver's teeth."

  "Yes, dear; thank you very much," said Agnes mechanically, so thevisitor took her leave, wondering what was rendering her hostess soabsent-minded. A very persistent thought told her that Agnes had made adiscovery in connection with the letter, but since she would not impartthat thought there was no more to be said.

  When Miss Greeby left the house and was striding down the street, Agnesfor the third time took the letter from her pocket and studied everyline of the writing. It was wonderfully like her own, she thought again,and yet wondered both at the contents and at the signature. "I shouldnever have written in this way to Noel," she reflected. "And certainlyI should never have signed myself 'Agnes Pine' to so intimate a note.However, we shall see," and with this cryptic thought she placed theletter in her desk.

  When Garvington and his wife returned they found Agnes singularly quietand pale. The little man did not notice this, as he never took anyinterest in other people's emotions, but his wife asked questions towhich she received no answers, and looked at Agnes uneasily, when shesaw that she did not eat any dinner to speak of. Lady Garvington wasvery fond of her kind-hearted sister-in-law, and would have been glad toknow what was troubling her. But Agnes kept her worries to herself, andinsisted that Jane should go to the pantomime, as she had arranged withsome friends instead of remaining at home. But when Garvington moved toleave the drawing-room, after drinking his coffee, his sister detainedhim.

  "I want you to come to the library to write a letter for me, Freddy,"she said in a tremulous voice.

  "Can't you write it yourself?" said Garvington selfishly, as he was in ahurry to get to his club.

  "No, dear. I am so tired," sighed Agnes, passing her hand across herbrow.

  "Then you should have kept on Silver as your secretary," grumbledGarvington. "However, if it won't take long, I don't mind obliging you."He followed her into the library, and took his seat at the writingtable. "Who is the letter to?" he demanded, taking up a pen in a hurry.

  "To Mr. Jarwin. I want him to find out where Gentilla Stanley is. It'sonly a formal letter, so write it and sign it on my behalf."

  "Like an infernal secretary," sighed Garvington, taking paper andsquaring his elbows. "What do you want with old Mother Cockleshell?"

  "Miss Greeby was here to-day and told me that the woman knows somethingabout poor Hubert's death."

  Garvington's pen halted for a moment, but he did not look round. "Whatcan she possibly know?" he demanded irritably.

  "That's what I shall find out when Mr. Jarwin discovers her," saidAgnes, who was in a low chair near the fire. "By the way, Freddy, I amsorry you let the Abbot's Wood Cottage to Mr. Silver."

  "Why shouldn't I?" growled Garvington, writing industriously. "Noeldidn't pay me a pound a week, and Silver does."

  "You might have a more respectable tenant," said Agnes scathingly.

  "Who says Silver isn't respectable?" he asked, looking round.

  "I do, and I have every reason to say so."

  "Oh, nonsense!" Garvington began to write again. "Silver was Pine'ssecretary, and now he's Miss Greeby's. They wouldn't have engaged himunless he was respectable, although he did start life as a paupertoymaker. I suppose that is what you mean, Agnes. I'm surprised at yournarrowness."

  "Ah, we have not all your tolerance, Freddy. Have you finished thatletter?"

  "There you are." Garvington handed it over. "You don't want me toaddress the envelope?"

  "Yes, I do," Agnes ran her eyes over the missive; "and you can add apostscript to this, telling Mr. Jarwin he can take my motor to look forGentilla Stanley if he chooses."

  Garvington did as he was asked reluctantly. "Though I don't see whyJarwin can't supply his own motors," he grumbled, "and ten to one he'llonly put an advertisement in the newspapers."

  "As if Mother Cockleshell ever saw a newspaper," retorted his sister."Oh, thank you, Freddy, you are good," she went on when he handed herthe letter in a newly addressed envelope; "no, don't go, I want to speakto you about Mr. Silver."

  Garvington threw himself with a growl into a chair. "I don't knowanything about him except that he's my tenant," he complained.

  "Then it is time you did. Perhaps you are not aware that Mr. Silvertried to blackmail me."

  "What?" the little man grew purple and exploded. "Oh, nonsense!"

  "It's anything but nonsense." Agnes rose and went to her desk to get theforged letter. "He came to me a long time before Christmas and said thatChaldea found this," she flourished the letter before her brother'seyes, "in Hubert's tent when he was masquerading as Hearne."

  "A letter? What does it say?" Garvington stretched out his hand.

  Agnes drew back and returned to her seat by the fire. "I can tell youthe contents," she said coolly, "it is supposed to be written by me toNoel and makes an appointment to meet him at the blue door on the nightof Hubert's death in order to elope."

  "Agnes, you never wrote s
uch a letter," cried Garvington, jumping upwith a furious red face.

  His sister did not answer for a moment. She had taken the letter justwritten to Jarwin by Garvington and was comparing it with that whichMiss Greeby had extorted from Silver. "No," she said in a strange voiceand becoming white, "I never wrote such a letter; but I should be gladto know why you did."

  "I did?" Garvington retreated and his face became as white as that ofthe woman who confronted him, "what the devil do you mean?"

  "I always knew that you were clever at imitating handwriting, Freddy,"said Agnes, while the two letters shook in her grasp, "we used to make ajoke of it, I remember. But it was no joke when you altered that checkHubert gave you, and none when you imitated his signature to thatmortgage about which he told me."

  "I never--I never!" stammered the detected little scoundrel, holding onto a chair for support. "I never--"

  "Spare me these lies," interrupted his sister scornfully, "Hubert showedthe mortgage, when it came into his possession, to me. He admitted thathis signature was legal to spare you, and also, for my sake, hushed upthe affair of the check. He warned you against playing with fire,Freddy, and now you have done so again, to bring about his death."

  "It's a damned lie."

  "It's a damned truth," retorted Agnes fiercely. "I got you to write theletter to Mr. Jarwin so that I might compare the signature to the one inthe forged letter. Agnes Pine in one and Agnes Pine in the other, bothwith the same twists and twirls--very, very like my signature and yetwith a difference that I alone can detect. The postscript about themotor I asked you to write because the word occurs in the forged letter.Motor and motor--both the same."

  "It's a lie," denied Garvington again. "I have not imitated yourhandwriting in the letter to Jarwin."

  "You unconsciously imitated the signature, and you have written the wordmotor the same in both letters," said Agnes decisively. "I suddenlythought of your talent for writing like other people when Clara Greebyasked me to-day if I could guess who had forged the letter. I laid atrap for you and you have fallen into it. And you"--she took a stepforward with fiery glance so that Garvington, retreating, nearly tumbledover a chair--"you laid a trap for Hubert into which he fell."

  "I never did--I never did!" babbled Garvington, gray with fear.

  "Yes, you did. I swear to it. Now I understand why you threatened toshoot any possible burglar who should come to The Manor. You learned, insome way, I don't know how, that Hubert was with the gypsies, and,knowing his jealous nature, you wrote this letter and let it fall intohis hands, so that he might risk being shot as a robber and a thief."

  "I--I--I--didn't shoot him," panted the man brokenly.

  "It was not for the want of trying. You broke his arm, and probablywould have followed him out to inflict a mortal wound if your accomplicein the shrubbery had not been beforehand with you."

  "Agnes, I swear that I took Pine for a burglar, and I don't know whoshot him. Really, I don't!"

  "You liar!" said Agnes with intense scorn. "When you posted youraccompl--"

  She had no chance to finish the word, for Garvington broke in furiouslyand made a great effort to assert himself. "I had no accomplice. Whoshot Pine I don't know. I never wrote the letter; I never lured him tohis death; he was more good to me alive than dead. He never--"

  "He was not more good to you alive than dead," interrupted Lady Agnes inher turn. "For Hubert despised you for the way in which you tried totrick him out of money. He thought you little better than a criminal,and only hushed up your wickedness for my sake. You would have got nomore money out of him, and you know that much. By killing him you hopedthat I would get the fortune and then you could plunder me at yourleisure. Hubert was hard to manage, and you thought that I would beeasy. Well, I have got the money and you have got rid of Hubert. But Ishall punish you."

  "Punish me?" Garvington passed his tongue over his dry lips, and lookedas though in his terror he would go down on his knees to plead.

  "Oh, not by denouncing you to the police," said his sistercontemptuously. "For, bad as you are, I have to consider our familyname. But you had Hubert shot so as to get the money through me, andnow that I am in possession I shall surrender it to the person namedin the sealed envelope."

  "No! No! No! No! Don't--don't--"

  "Yes, I shall. I can do so by marrying Noel. I shall no longer considerthe financial position of the family. I have sacrificed enough, and Ishall sacrifice no more. Hubert was a good husband to me, and I was agood and loyal wife to him; but his will insults me, and you have mademe your enemy by what you have done."

  "I did not do it. I swear I did not do it."

  "Yes, you did; and no denial on your part will make me believeotherwise. I shall give you a few days to think over the necessity ofmaking a confession, and in any case I shall marry Noel."

  "And lose the money. You shan't!"

  "Shan't!" Agnes stepped forward and looked fairly into his shifty eyes."You are not in a position to say that, Freddy. I am mistress both ofthe situation and of Hubert's millions. Go away," she pushed him towardthe door. "Take time to think over your position, and confess everythingto me."

  Garvington got out of the room as swiftly as his shaky legs could carryhim, and paused at the door to turn with a very evil face. "You daren'tsplit on me," he screeched. "I defy you! I defy you! You daren't spliton me."

  Alas! Agnes knew that only too well, and when he disappeared she weptbitterly, feeling her impotence.