The Third Volume

by Fergus Hume

  CHAPTER XXIV.

  A NEW SUSPICION.

  SPENSER TAIT walked back to the Manor House with the pleasing convictionthat he had passed a very profitable hour. He had warned Jenny about theprobable movements of Hilliston, and thus had put her on her guardagainst that astute individual. Once an idea enters a woman's head, itis impossible to get it out again, and Tait, by half hinting aconfirmation of Jenny's suspicions regarding the lawyer, had made heruneasily conscious that Hilliston was a man to be watched and reckonedwith. If Hilliston fulfilled Tait's prophecy, the little man believedthat Jenny would resent his interference, penetrate his motives, andthwart him, if possible. In spite of her denial that she thought himguilty, Tait could not but perceive that the reading of the case had notbiased her in favor of the dead man's friend. Jenny believed thatJeringham had committed the crime, but, if Hilliston acted indiscreetly,it would not take much to induce her to alter that opinion. Taitchuckled as he thought of these things; for he had not only cut theground from under Hilliston's feet by warning Jenny of his possiblearrival, but had, as he truly thought, converted a passive spectatorinto an active enemy.

  Again, he had learned that it was the old servant who had informed thegirl concerning the scarfpin episode. Kerry said that the man who ownedthe scarfpin was guilty; and Kerry knew to whom the scarfpin belonged.If he could only be induced to part with the information there might besome chance of solving the mystery; but Kerry's--or rather DenisBantry's--past conduct and present attitude were so doubtful that it wasdifficult to know how he would act, even though he were driven into acorner. Tait had little doubt in his own mind that Kerry was the oldservant of Captain Larcher, for no one but he knew the truth about thescarfpin. Nevertheless, he failed to understand why the man had changedhis name, and why he was staying at Thorston as servant to a recluselike Paynton. Only a personal interview with him could settle thesevexed questions, but Tait was of two opinions whether Kerry would beamenable to reason, and confess his reasons for such concealment.

  Thus thinking, and trying to come to some conclusion regarding the newaspect placed upon affairs by the conversation with Jenny, the littleman arrived home, and learning that Claude was still in the garden, hewent there to report the result of his interview, and discuss thesituation. Larcher was leaning back in a comfortable garden chair, withan open book on his knee, but, instead of reading, he was staring withunseeing eyes into the fresh green of the tree above him. On hearingTait's brisk step he hastily lowered his head with a flush, as though hehad been caught doing something wrong, and grew still more confused whenhe saw his friend looking at him with a queer expression of amusement.

  "She is a pretty girl," said Tait significantly; "and I don't wonder youare thinking of her."

  "Thinking of who?" asked Claude merrily, at this reading of histhoughts. "Are you a mind reader?"

  "So far as you are concerned, I am. Knowing how easily influenced youare by the sight of a pretty face, I don't think I am far wrong inguessing that your thoughts were with Jenny Paynton."

  "Well, yes," replied Claude, with a frank laugh. "I do not deny it. Theglimpse I caught of her as we drove past in the cart charmed me greatly.I have rarely seen a more sympathetic and piquant face."

  "Bah! You say that of every woman you meet. Your geese are alwaysswans."

  "Jenny is, at all events!" said Larcher promptly; "and you cannot denythat; but I admire her exceedingly--that is, as a pretty woman. You see,I already call her Jenny in my own mind, but that is because you alwaystalk of her by her Christian name. Now, Jenny is----"

  "My dear Don Juan," said Tait blandly; "don't you think we had betterleave off these erotics and get to business. You must not indulge in theideal to the exclusion of the real."

  "Oh, not that business!" sighed Larcher wearily. "I don't believe we'lldo any good with it. The mystery of my father's death is likely toremain one to the end of time for all I can see. Every trace isobliterated by the snows of twenty-five years."

  "Not entirely, my friend. For instance, I have learned an important factto-day."

  "From Miss Paynton?"

  "Yes. We had a long conversation, and she was considerably startled whenshe learned the object of your visit here."

  "Was it wise of you to tell her?"

  "Why, yes," returned Tait decidedly. "We can do nothing without herhelp, and that she will refuse to give us unless she learns the reasonof our inquiries."

  "What is her opinion of the matter? The same as Linton's, I suppose?"

  "By no means. She thinks that Jeringham killed your father; but I am notaltogether sure that she does not suspect Hilliston. After all, she maycome round to Linton's opinion before long."

  "Did you tell her that we suspected Hilliston?" asked Claude anxiously.

  "Not directly. But I permitted myself to hint as much. However, I onlyaided the seed of suspicion to sprout, for it was already implanted inher mind. You look astonished, Claude, but recall to your recollectionthe report of that case, and you will see that Hilliston was far toomuch mixed up in the matter to be as ignorant as he pretended to be atthe trial. According to his evidence he had not left the ballroom, andconsequently could have known nothing of the tragedy which was thenbeing enacted at The Laurels. Yet, he knows details which, so far as Ican see, prove him to have been an eye-witness."

  Claude jumped to his feet, and began restlessly pacing up and down thegravel walk. He yet retained some belief in Hilliston, and was reluctantto think that one to whom he owed so much should be guilty of so foul acrime. It was true that certain circumstances looked black against him,but these were purely theoretical, and by no means founded on absolutefacts. After due consideration Claude inclined to the belief that Taitwas too easily satisfied of Hilliston's guilt, and was willing to acceptany stray facts likely to confirm his theory. Thus biased he could notpossibly look on the matter in a fair and equable manner. The wish wasaltogether too greatly father to the thought.

  "I don't think you give Hilliston a fair show, Tait," he said, steppingbefore his friend. "If he winks an eye you look on it as a sign of hisguilt. My mother assured me solemnly that Hilliston was at the ball whenthe tragedy occurred."

  "Oh, in that case, I have nothing more to say," said Tait coldly."Still," he added rather spitefully, "I should like to know why Mr.Hilliston is so anxious to keep the matter quiet."

  "Tait!" said Claude hoarsely, sitting down by his friend and seizing hisarm; "do you know I have often asked myself that question, and I havefound a reply thereto; the only reply of which I can think."

  He paused, and looked fearfully around; then wiped the sweat off hiswhite face with a nervous gesture. Tait eyed him in amazement, and couldnot understand what had come over his usually self-possessed friend; buthe had no time to speak, for Claude, with an irrepressible shiver,whispered in a low voice:

  "What if my mother should be guilty, after all? Ah, you may well lookastonished, but that is the hideous doubt which has haunted me for days.My mother says she ran at my father with a dagger, but fainted beforeshe struck him. What if she did not faint; if she really killed him, andHilliston, knowing this, is trying to screen her, and trying to save mefrom knowing the truth?"

  "But, my dear fellow, the trial----"

  "Never mind the trial. We now know that Denis swore falsely when heasserted that my father was not in the house on that night. We know thathe was in the house, and that my mother found him with Mona Bantry. Herjealousy might have carried her to greater lengths than she intended togo. Denis saved her at the trial by telling a lie; but we know thetruth, and I cannot rid myself of a doubt, that she may be guilty. Ifso, in place of being an enemy, Hilliston is acting the part of a friendin placing obstacles in our way."

  Tait shook his head. "I do not believe Mrs. Bezel is guilty," he saidquietly; "if she had been, she would certainly not have written to you,and thus forced Hilliston to show you the papers. Banish the thoughtfrom your heart, Claude. I am as ce
rtain as I sit here that your motheris innocent of the crime."

  "If I could only be certain!"

  "And why should you not be," exclaimed Tait vigorously. "An eye-witnesscould tell you the truth."

  "Where can I find an eye-witness?" cried Claude, with an impatientfrown. "Mona Bantry and Jeringham have both fled; they are probably deadby this time. My mother denies that she struck the blow, and Hilliston,she says, was at the ball when the murder took place. Who can tell methe truth?"

  "Denis Bantry," said Tait quietly. "Listen to me, Claude. The episode ofthe garnet scarfpin, which to my mind is the clew to the assassin, isonly known to your mother, to Hilliston, and to Denis Bantry. NowHilliston denies that such a trinket exists; your mother insists that itwas found on the bank of the river after the murder. The only person whocan give the casting vote--who can arbitrate, so to speak--is DenisBantry."

  "And where is Denis Bantry? Lost or dead, years ago."

  "Nothing of the sort, my friend. Denis Bantry is alive and in thisneighborhood. Yes; Jenny Paynton admitted to me that the scarfpinepisode was related to her by their old servant, Kerry. Therefore, itnaturally follows that Kerry is Denis Bantry."

  "But why is he hiding here under another name?" said Larcher, after hehad digested this piece of information, with a due display ofastonishment.

  "That I cannot say. Unless," here Tait hesitated before uttering hisopinion, "unless Denis Bantry is the guilty person."

  "But that is impossible; that is out of the question," said Claudedecidedly. "He was devoted to my father, as you know. Why should he turnand kill him without a cause?"

  "Ah!" said Tait significantly; "what if he had a cause, and a very goodone, to kill your father. Recall your mother's confession. She returnedat three o'clock in the morning and found her husband alone with Mona,the sister of Denis. She accused Mona of being her husband's mistress,and the girl confessed her guilt, which your father evidently could notdeny. Now what is more probable than that Denis, attracted by the highvoices, should have followed your mother to the room. There he wouldhear the truth, probably while waiting at the door. What follows? Withhis impulsive Irish temperament he dashes in, hot to avenge the wrongdone to his sister. The dagger dropped by your mother is at his feet; hepicks it up and kills his master on the instant. Your mother, in a fainton the floor, knows nothing of what is going on, and brother and sisterremove the body to the river, where they drop it in. Then Mona is sentaway by Denis to hide her shame and evade awkward questions, while heremains."

  "But why should he remain?" interrupted Claude smartly. "Would it nothave been wiser for him to fly?"

  "And so confess his guilt. No! He induces Jeringham to fly, with athreat of denouncing him as the murderer of Larcher. Jeringham is insuch a dilemma that, seeing that all the evidence will be against him,he takes to flight. Thereupon Denis is able to save his mistress, andhimself, by denying that Larcher came to the house on that night. Ofcourse, this is all pure theory; still it is as circumstantial as therest of the evidence we have in hand."

  But Claude was by no means inclined to agree with this last remark."There are flaws in your argument," he said, after a few moments'reflection. "If Denis intended to deny that my father was in the houseon that night, why should he induce Jeringham to fly?"

  "To make assurance doubly sure. No doubt he intended first to put theblame on Jeringham, but finding that Mrs. Larcher was likely to beaccused, he made things safe for her by denying that his master returnedon that evening. Only four people knew of the return; Mona, who fled,Mrs. Larcher, who held her tongue to save her neck; Denis, who sworefalsely to serve his mistress; and Jeringham, who thought he might beaccused of the crime."

  "But why wouldn't he have denounced Denis?"

  "He was doubtless ignorant that Denis was the criminal. You forget thatJeringham was in the garden, and knew nothing of what was taking placein the sitting room. Denis rushed out, and finding Jeringham may havetold him that Mrs. Larcher had killed her husband on his account. Theman, bewildered and shocked, yet sees that he is complicated in the casethrough his love for Mrs. Larcher; he guesses that owing to the gossipof the place he may be accused of the crime, and so does the wisestthing he could do,--the only thing he could do,--and seeks refuge inflight."

  "Then you think Denis is guilty?"

  "I can't say. As you see, I can make a strong case out against yourmother, against Jeringham, against Denis. Yes, I could even make a caseagainst Mona Bantry; but it is sole theory. Yet Denis must have somereason for hiding here under the name of 'Kerry,' and for keeping thosepapers found by Jenny which contained a report of the case. The case isstrong against Hilliston, I admit, but is stronger against your father'sown servant."

  "I don't think so," said Claude quietly. "If Denis had killed my father,he would not have told Jenny about the scarfpin."

  "Why not! The scarfpin may have belonged to Jeringham--to Hilliston. Forhis own safety--now that the case is recognized after so many years by agirl's rash action--Denis would not hesitate to blame them to savehimself. Taking it all round," added Tait, with the air of one who hassettled the question, "I think the conduct of Denis is very suspicious,and I would not be surprised if he turned out to be the guilty person."

  "But the acts of Hilliston?"

  Tait rubbed his head and looked vexed, for he was unable to give adirect answer. "Let us leave the matter alone for the present," he saidcrossly. "I am getting bewildered with all this talk. Only one personcan tell the truth, and that is Kerry, alias Denis Bantry."