The Red Window

by Fergus Hume

  CHAPTER V

  LOST IN THE DARKNESS

  While the terrible word was yet on the housekeeper's lips, Bernardstepped forward and loosened the handkerchiefs. That round the neck wasone of Sir Simon's own, a yellow bandana woven of strong silk, andeminently suited to the deadly purpose it had been used for. But how hadthe dead man's own handkerchief been so utilised by the murderer? Whileuntying the knot, Bernard wondered; but he gained an inkling into themethod pursued when he removed the white handkerchief which had beenbound across the mouth. It exhaled a faint odor of chloroform, so it wasapparent that the old baronet had been first rendered unconscious, andthen strangled with his own bandana. But who was guilty of the crime?

  "What do you know of this?" asked Gore, in a hoarse voice, turning tothe housekeeper.

  She had ceased to cry out, and was staring at him with glittering eyes.At the same time she appeared to be listening intently. Far off could beheard the sound of approaching footsteps echoing along the pavement.Evidently a policeman, summoned by Mrs. Gilroy's shriek, was hurrying tosee what was the matter. As the door had been left open he would knowwhere to enter. These thoughts flashed through Mrs. Gilroy's mind as shestared at the pale young man. Also there were sounds in the lower partsof the house hinting that the servants had been aroused. A distant clockstruck the three quarters, and even at that terrible moment Bernardremembered that in his vague wanderings after the boy he had beenforty-five minutes getting to Crimea Square. And Mrs. Gilroy stilllooked.

  "What do you know of this?" repeated Gore, wondering at her silence.

  She gave a gasp. "He is dead," said Mrs. Gilroy. "I wonder if he diedhard. He was a strong old man."

  Wondering more than ever at this strange speech, Bernard felt the pulseand the heart of his grandfather. There was no doubt that life wasextinct, although it could not have been so long. The skin was stillwarm to the touch, but that might have been because the room was heated.Also, the dead man was seated close to the fire. "How terrible!"muttered Bernard, whose emotions were not yet under control. "I must gethelp."

  He turned to go, but the housekeeper, suddenly becoming endowed withlife, flung herself in his path. "No!" she said harshly. "Don't seekhelp if you value your life."

  "What do you mean?" asked Gore, striving to shake off the hand she laidon his sleeve. "The servants are up--a policeman is evidently comingalong. Hark! he is entering the hall. I must--"

  "You go to the gallow," muttered Mrs. Gilroy clinging to him.

  "I!" the perspiration burst out on Bernard's forehead, and he startedback. "Are you mad?"

  "You are, you are," went on the housekeeper, hurriedly, "you fool! It isknown that your grandfather disinherited you, and--"

  "You know I did not commit this crime."

  "I know nothing. I--I" Mrs. Gilroy put her hand to her head. "It's theonly way--the only way," she whispered to herself. "You killed him, youstrangled him. I swear to it--I swear to it! Help!" she raised her voiceto scream. "Help!"

  "Let me go," cried Bernard, thinking he had been drawn into a trap.

  But Mrs. Gilroy still clung with a force for which he would not havegiven her credit. Shrieking aloud she was dragged by the startled youngman into the passage and towards the landing. Below, in the hall, thedoor of which was open, the cook and the housemaid were embracing aburly policeman, and terrified small page was looking up the stairs. Onthe vision of this alarmed group reeled Mrs. Gilroy, clinging andshrieking to Bernard--"Help me--help me! He will escape!" The policemanblew a shrill whistle and said a sharp word to the page, who scamperedout of the door for dear life. The cook and housemaid receded towardsthe back of the hall as Bernard, dragging Mrs. Gilroy after him, flunghimself down the stairs. He saw now that his position was dangerous, buthis wits were so bewildered that he hardly knew what he was doing. As hereached the foot of the stair the policeman caught him by the coat. "Iarrest you in the King's name," said the officer, promptly.

  "Yes, yes! for murder--murder!" cried Mrs. Gilroy, breathlessly.

  "Murder!" the other servants shrieked.

  "Who is dead?" asked the policeman, with professional stolidity.

  "Sir Simon Gore. This is his grandson. He has strangled him."

  "It's a lie--a lie!" cried Bernard, very pale. "I did not enter--"

  "Anything you say now will be used in evidence against you," said thepoliceman. "Come up the stairs, we must see this corpse. A titled man,too, and your grandfather--you audacious scoundrel!" and he shook thewretched young man.

  "I tell you I am innocent," said Bernard, his lips dry and his facepale. "I came here--"

  "To kill Sir Simon. Jane," cried Mrs. Gilroy, turning to the housemaid."Don't you see who it is?"

  Jane staggered forward supported by the cook. "Lor'," she gasped interror, "it's Bernard. Whatever did you--"

  "You know him, then?" asked the officer.

  "Yes! he's been making love and visiting me for the last week?"

  "I thought so," cried Mrs. Gilroy, triumphantly. "Cook."

  "I know him too," said the cook, keeping well out of the way. "It's theyoung soldier as courts Jane. Bernard's his name."

  "I was never in this house before," said Gore, quite unnerved.

  "Is your name Bernard?" asked the policeman.

  "Yes! but--"

  "Then you are guilty."

  "He is--he is!" cried the housemaid. "He was here this evening, but wentaway at six. Sir Simon said he would see him after ten. Oh, Bernard, howcould you!" sobbed Jane. "To think I should have took up with a man as'ull be put in the Chamber of Horrors."

  "Policeman, let me go," said Gore, firmly. "There is some mistake."

  "The magistrate will decide that. Help will be here soon, and thenyou'll be lodged in jail."

  "Mrs. Gilroy," cried the young man, overwhelmed with horror, "you know Iam innocent."

  "No," she said fiercely, and with her eyes on his face. "You came to seeSir Simon after ten. I let you in myself. I waited below while you spokewith Sir Simon, and you left fifteen minutes ago. I went upstairs to seemy master. He was dead--strangled. I ran out calling murder, and youwere almost on the doorstep."

  "I had only just come."

  "Come back, you mean," said the officer.

  "To see if poor master was dead," shrieked the cook.

  "Oh, Bernard--Bernard!" sobbed Jane, "how could you kill him! Lor'! thatI should have kissed a murderer."

  "Hark!" said Mrs. Gilroy, raising her hand, "footsteps. The other policeare coming. Take him away to jail, officer."

  "This is a trick--a trap!" cried Bernard, struggling to get free. "Inever was in the house before--"

  "You have visited in the kitchen for over a fortnight," said Jane,weeping copiously.

  "Someone like me has, but not me. Look well, girl. Am I the man?"

  "Bring him under the lamp, policeman," said Jane, hesitating.

  "No!" said Mrs. Gilroy, pushing the housemaid back, "there is no time.Here are the police. We must go upstairs and see Sir Simon. MissRandolph is at the theatre with Mr. Beryl. Ah--hark!"

  There was a sound of approaching wheels, and a moment afterwards acarriage drove up. Out of it stepped Lucy and Julius. They entered thehall and looked amazed, as they well might, on seeing Bernard in thegrip of the policeman, and the alarmed women around him.

  "What's this?" asked Julius.

  "Bernard," cried Lucy, running forward, "what have you done?"

  "Murdered his grandfather, miss," said the policeman.

  Lucy uttered a wild shriek and sprang up the stairs, followed by thecook and housemaid. But Mrs. Gilroy still held her ground and caughthold of Beryl's arm. "Keep him fast, sir," she said savagely. "He camethis night and murdered the master."

  "Julius, it is a lie!"

  "I hope so," said Beryl, who looked pale and startled; "but you know youquarrelled with my uncle."

  "Ah, did he?" said the policeman, and felt for his pocket-book. In do
ingso, he slightly relaxed his grip, and Bernard was quick to takeadvantage of the chance. Had he but reflected for a moment, he wouldhave stood his ground and have faced the worst; but with the accusingface of Mrs. Gilroy before him, and a memory of the housemaid's evidenceand Beryl's enmity, he decided hastily to fly. In a moment he laid thepoliceman flat on his back by a quick wrestling trick, and darted outinto the street. Mrs. Gilroy ran to the door shrieking murder, and theword was heard by three or four policemen who were tramping hurriedlyalong in the wake of the breathless page. At once they realized thesituation, and plunged into the fog after the flying form of thesoldier. The page followed also, but speedily returned with the newsthat the fugitive was running towards High Street.

  "He's bound to be caught," said Mrs. Gilroy.

  "I hope not," said Beryl, who was standing in the hall much disturbed."After all, he is my cousin."

  "And a murderer," added the housekeeper. "Wait here, policeman."

  "But he's got away," said the officer, considerably ruffled by theescape. "I must follow."

  "The others are after him," said Julius, drawing him back. "You can'tfollow in the fog. It's thicker than ever. Mrs. Webber."

  "Oh, what's the matter?" asked a trembling voice, and a white faceappeared at the window of the carriage which stood at the door. "Mr.Beryl!"

  "Sir Simon has been murdered by his grandson," said Julius, running downthe steps and speaking quietly.

  Mrs. Webber threw herself back into the carriage and shrieked, "Oh,horrible! Drive away--drive away."

  "No! no!" said Beryl, anxiously. "Lucy is upstairs with the corpse. Comeand take her away. She can't remain here."

  "Yes, I know," said Mrs. Webber, recovering from her momentary alarm,and getting hastily out of the carriage. "James, where is Francis?"

  "He's gone off after the murderer, mum," said James, touching his hat;"but for the 'orses I'd have gone also."

  "Wait--wait," said Mrs. Webber, hurrying up the steps. "Howterrible--poor Sir Simon. Where is the body?" she asked, shuddering.

  "In the sitting-room on the first floor," said Mrs. Gilroy.

  "Where the red light is?" asked the lady.

  "There is no red light," said Mrs. Gilroy.

  "But I tell you there is," said Mrs. Webber. "I saw it when I heard thehorrid cry of murder."

  "The red light," said Julius, starting. "I wonder"--he hurried outsideand looked up to the dark front of the house. "There's no red light,Mrs. Webber," he called out.

  "I knew there wasn't," cried Mrs. Gilroy, sitting down, evidentlyexhausted. "You must be mistaken, ma'am."

  Mrs. Webber ran out also. "I am not mistaken. Why"--she stared upalso--"there is none. Yet I am sure--I'll ask Lucy," and she ran intothe house again. "Come and show me where the poor man is."

  This was to Mrs. Gilroy, who rose slowly and walked heavily up thestairs. "Are you in pain, Mrs. Gilroy?" asked Julius, who followed.

  "Yes," she muttered, pressing her hand to her side. "Mr. Gore gave me awrench when I struggled with him. My poor master," and sighing heavily,she panted up the stair.

  In the room, Lucy was kneeling beside the dead, with the tears streamingdown her cheeks and holding the limp hand. "How terrible it is!" shesobbed. "He was so well and bright when I left to go to the theatre, andnow"--she broke down. Julius supported her to the sofa and strove tocalm her.

  "It _is_ terrible," he said soothingly. "I think you had better go backwith Mrs. Webber."

  "No!" she said, drying her eyes. "I will wait here."

  "Yes, do, miss," chorussed the cook and the housemaid, who were both ina state of wild alarm.

  "Nothing of the sort," said Mrs. Webber, laying her hand on the girl'sshoulder. "Come home with me, dear."

  Mrs. Webber was a small, dark, stern-looking little woman with a highcolor, although her face was very white at the present awful moment. Shewas possessed of considerable determination, as could be seen from herfirm mouth. But Lucy, in spite of her youth and the crushing to whichshe had been subjected by Sir Simon, had the stronger will, andpositively refused to leave the house.

  "He was my only friend," she said, rising, "and I won't go away."

  "You can do nothing, dear," said Julius, quickly.

  "I can help the nurse with the body," she answered. "Don't say anotherword, Julius. My post is here. Send for someone at once to lay out thebody, unless you--" She looked at Jane and the cook.

  These cowards shrieked simultaneously, and with one accord fled to thelower regions, where they sat up for the rest of the night drinkingstrong tea, and discussing the tragic event with the gusto peculiar totheir class. The policeman joined them here later, and asked after thecourting of Jane.

  Meantime Mrs. Webber, finding all remonstrance vain, had departed. Mrs.Gilroy remained alone with the dead body, and Julius, leading Lucy toanother room, answered the inquiries of an inspector who had appeared onthe scene. He noted all replies made, and explained that the fugitivehad not yet been caught. "And I don't know if he will be," addedInspector Groom, shrugging his shoulders; "the fog is thick."

  "And Bernard is very quick," said Lucy, sipping a glass of wine whichshe sorely needed. "Oh, I hope he'll get away!"

  "Very natural," said Groom, nodding. "You don't want the scandal."

  "I don't want Bernard hanged," said Miss Randolph.

  "Ah! Then you think he is guilty."

  "Mrs. Gilroy says he is," answered the girl, sobbing, "and I knowBernard was on bad terms with Sir Simon. Julius, perhaps after allBernard may be innocent."

  "I hope so," said Beryl, dubiously; "but according to Jane, Bernard hasbeen hanging round the house for the last fortnight, and----"

  "Ah!" said Groom, sharply, "hanging round the house, eh? I must speak toJane. Who is she?"

  "The housemaid. Bernard has been making love to her."

  "I don't believe that is true," said Lucy.

  "Young gentlemen do take strange fancies sometimes," said Groom, "andsome housemaids are pretty."

  Lucy's lip curled. "Jane is not pretty," said she, decidedly, "andBernard is far too fastidious a man to lower himself in that way."

  "Well, the long and the short of it is, that he has been hanging roundthe house," put in Beryl, biting his fingers impatiently. "Probably hecame here this evening, and saw Sir Simon in answer to the signal of theRed Window."

  "The Red Window!" echoed Lucy.

  "Yes. You told me about the signal this evening."

  "But I did not place a lamp in any window, and there is no Red Windowhere. Had I done that to attract Bernard, I should have told you."

  "I don't think you would," said Beryl, with a significant expression;"but the fact remains, Mrs. Webber saw the Red Window."

  "You did not."

  "No. But a piece of red stuff may have been used to make the light, andthen removed."

  "Mrs. Gilroy may know about it."

  But Mrs. Gilroy, when questioned, did not. She never knew anything abouta red light. Sir Simon had expressed the wish to see the soldier, andhad sent down to the kitchen before six. "He was then having tea withJane."

  "Did you see him?" asked the inspector.

  "No. Had I done so I should have recognized him. But he always got outof the place when he heard me coming. Once he was concealed in acupboard. On receiving Sir Simon's message sent by the page, he left thehouse----"

  "Yes," interrupted Lucy. "I remember the message being brought back."

  "And then he came after ten," went on Mrs. Gilroy. "I opened the door tohim. He asked to see his grandfather."

  "He was this man, then?" asked Groom.

  "Mr. Bernard Gore? Yes, he was. He went to see the old gentleman, and Iwaited below. Then he left the house----"

  "Did you let him out?"

  "No. He went away quickly. Wondering at the length of the interview, Iran up the stairs and found Sir Simon dead. I came out at once, andfound Mr. Gore almost on the doorstep----"

  "Mr. Gore?" asked the inspector, looking up.
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  "Yes. Mr. Bernard Gore, the grandson of Sir Simon."

  "And my cousin," said Julius. "You say he was at the door?"

  "He was, Mr. Beryl. I made him come up the stairs and"--she made agesture--"you know the rest."

  Groom put the housekeeper through a thorough examination, and noted downher replies. She told a consistent story. Then he questioned Julius andLucy regarding the quarrel between the deceased and his grandson.Finally he proceeded to the kitchen and questioned the servants. Theresult of these inquiries was that Inspector Groom left the house--witha policeman in charge--firmly persuaded of Bernard's guilt. All theevidence pointed to his committal of the crime. Groom was notill-pleased. He thought he had secured a case likely to cause asensation, and to prove remunerative to himself.

  While the rope to hang the unfortunate young man was being woven, theoutcast--for he was nothing else now--was racing through the fog. Afterthe first plunge into the gray mist, he succeeded in shaking off theofficers--all save one. This was a young fellow, quick on his legs. Hefollowed Bernard towards the High Street, as had been reported by thepage, who had seen the two dark forms shooting past him. Only a yard ortwo lay between pursued and pursuer, and Gore, in spite of all hisefforts, could not increase the distance. But he was determined not tobe taken. Undoubtedly he had been drawn into a trap, and howsoeverinnocent he was, it might be impossible to prove that he was guiltlessin the face of the enmity of Mrs. Gilroy and Julius. Also, there was theevidence of Jane to be reckoned with, and she was doubtless a tool inthe hands of her superiors. Bernard wanted to gain a place of refuge, sothat he might think over his position and communicate with Durham andConniston. They might be able to help him in this dilemma.

  It was impossible to remain in the High Street, seeing that every momenthe ran a chance of falling into the arms of a policeman. He thereforeturned down a side street and raced through Cheniston Gardens. Hispursuer, still close on his heels, followed, and by this time anotherofficer had joined. Bernard made up his mind and ran for the river. Hecrossed Cromwell Road, Fulham Road, sped through Elm Park Gardens, anddown to Chelsea. Many were after him by the time he reached the river'sbank. Only one chance remained. He plunged into the stream and the fogcovered his retreat.

  "It's all up," said the policeman, who heard the plunge. "He'll bedrowned."