‘The next point,’ I said, ‘will be for us to prove it.’
At that moment the bell rang, and one of the house-servants—all puzzled by this conflict of interests—came in with a telegram, which he handed me on a salver. I broke it open, without glancing at the envelope. Its contents baffled me: ‘My address is Hotel Bristol, Paris; name as usual. Send me a thousand pounds on account at once. I can’t afford to wait. No shillyshallying.’
The message was unsigned. For a moment, I couldn’t imagine who sent it, or what it was driving at.
Then I took up the envelope. ‘Viscount Southminster, 24 Park Lane North, London.’
My heart gave a jump. I saw in a second that chance, or Providence, had delivered the conspirators into my hands that day. The telegram was from Higginson! I had opened it by accident.
It was obvious what had happened. Lord Southminster must have written to him on the result of the trial, and told him he meant to take possession of his uncle’s house immediately. Higginson had acted on that hint, and addressed his telegram where he thought it likely Lord Southminster would receive it earliest. I had opened it in error, and that, too, was fortunate, for even in dealing with such a pack of scoundrels, it would never have occurred to me to violate somebody else’s correspondence had I not thought it was addressed to me. But having arrived at the truth thus unintentionally, I had, of course, no scruples about making full use of my information.
I showed the despatch at once to Lady Georgina and Mr. Hayes. They recognised its importance. ‘What next?’ I inquired. ‘Time presses. At half-past three Harold comes up for examination at Bow Street.’
Mr. Hayes was ready with an apt expedient. ‘Ring the bell for Mr. Ashurst’s valet,’ he said, quietly. ‘The moment has now arrived when we can begin to set these conspirators by the ears. As soon as they learn that we know all, they will be eager to inform upon one another.’
I rang the bell. ‘Send up White,’ I said. ‘We wish to speak to him.’
The valet stole up, self-accused, a timid, servile creature, rubbing his hands nervously, and suspecting mischief. He was a rat in trouble. He had thin brown hair, neatly brushed and plastered down, so as to make it look still thinner, and his face was the average narrow cunning face of the dishonest man-servant. It had an ounce of wile in it to a pound or two of servility. He seemed just the sort of rogue meanly to join in an underhand conspiracy, and then meanly to back out of it. You could read at a glance that his principle in life was to save his own bacon.
He advanced, fumbling his hands all the time, and smiling and fawning. ‘You wished to see me, sir?’ he murmured, in a deprecatory voice, looking sideways at Lady Georgina and me, but addressing the lawyer.
‘Yes, White, I wished to see you. I have a question to ask you. Who put the forged will in Mr. Ashurst’s desk? Was it you, or some other person?’
The question terrified him. He changed colour and gasped. But he rubbed his hands harder than ever and affected a sickly smile. ‘Oh, sir, how should I know, sir? I had nothing to do with it. I suppose—it was Mr. Tillington.’
Our lawyer pounced upon him like a hawk on a titmouse. ‘Don’t prevaricate with me, sir,’ he said, sternly. ‘If you do, it may be worse for you. This case has assumed quite another aspect. It is you and your associates who will be placed in the dock, not Mr. Tillington. You had better speak the truth; it is your one chance, I warn you. Lie to me, and instead of calling you as a witness for our case, I shall include you in the indictment.’
White looked down uneasily at his shoes, and cowered. ‘Oh, sir, I don’t understand you.’
‘Yes you do. You understand me, and you know I mean it. Wriggling is useless; we intend to prosecute. We have unravelled this vile plot. We know the whole truth. Higginson and Lord Southminster forged a will between them——’
‘Oh, sir, not Lord Southminster! His lordship, I’m sure——’
Mr. Hayes’s keen eye had noted the subtle shade of distinction and admission. But he said nothing openly. ‘Well, then, Higginson forged, and Lord Southminster accepted, a false will, which purported to be Mr. Marmaduke Ashurst’s. Now, follow me clearly. That will could not have been put into the escritoire during Mr. Ashurst’s life, for there would have been risk of his discovering it. It must, therefore, have been put there afterward. The moment he was dead, you, or somebody else with your consent and connivance, slipped it into the escritoire; and you afterwards showed Mr. Tillington the place where you had set it or seen it set, leading him to believe it was Mr. Ashurst’s will, and so involved him in all this trouble. Note that that was a felonious act. We accuse you of felony. Do you mean to confess, and give evidence on our behalf, or will you force me to send for a policeman to arrest you?’
The cur hesitated still. ‘Oh, sir,’ drawing back, and fumbling his hands on his breast, ‘you don’t mean it.’
Mr. Hayes was prompt. ‘Hesslegrave, go for a policeman.’
That curt sentence brought the rogue on his marrow-bones at once. He clasped his hands and debated inwardly. ‘If I tell you all I know,’ he said, at last, looking about him with an air of abject terror, as if he thought Lord Southminster or Higginson would hear him, ‘will you promise not to prosecute me?’ His tone became insinuating. ‘For a hundred pounds, I could find the real will for you. You’d better close with me. To-day is the last chance. As soon as his lordship comes in, he’ll hunt it up and destroy it.’
I flourished it before him, and pointed with one hand to the broken desk, which he had not yet observed in his craven agitation.
‘We do not need your aid,’ I answered. ‘We have found the will, ourselves. Thanks to Lady Georgina, it is safe till this minute.’
‘And to me,’ he put in, cringing, and trying after his kind, to curry favour with the winners at the last moment. ‘It’s all my doing, my lady! I wouldn’t destroy it. His lordship offered me a hundred pounds more to break open the back of the desk at night, while your ladyship was asleep, and burn the thing quietly. But I told him he might do his own dirty work if he wanted it done. It wasn’t good enough while your ladyship was here in possession. Besides, I wanted the right will preserved, for I thought things might turn up so; and I wouldn’t stand by and see a gentleman like Mr. Tillington, as has always behaved well to me, deprived of his inheritance.’
‘Which is why you conspired with Lord Southminster to rob him of it, and to send him to prison for Higginson’s crime,’ I interposed calmly.
‘Then you confess you put the forged will there?’ Mr. Hayes said, getting to business.
White looked about him helplessly. He missed his headpiece, the instigator of the plot. ‘Well, it was like this, my lady,’ he began, turning to Lady Georgina, and wriggling to gain time. ‘You see, his lordship and Mr. Higginson——’ he twirled his thumbs and tried to invent something plausible.
Lady Georgina swooped. ‘No rigmarole!’ she said, sharply. ‘Do you confess you put it there or do you not—reptile?’ Her vehemence startled him.
‘Yes, I confess I put it there,’ he said at last, blinking. ‘As soon as the breath was out of Mr. Ashurst’s body I put it there.’ He began to whimper. ‘I’m a poor man with a wife and family, sir,’ he went on, ‘though in Mr. Ashurst’s time I always kep’ that quiet; and his lordship offered to pay me well for the job; and when you’re paid well for a job yourself, sir——’
Mr. Hayes waved him off with one imperious hand. ‘Sit down in the corner there, man, and don’t move or utter another word,’ he said, sternly, ‘until I order you. You will be in time still for me to produce at Bow Street.’
Just at that moment, Lord Southminster swaggered back, accompanied by a couple of unwilling policemen. ‘Oh, I say,’ he cried, bursting in and staring around him, jubilant. ‘Look heah, Georgey, are you going quietly, or must I ask these coppahs to evict you?’ He was wreathed in
smiles now, and had evidently been fortifying himself with brandies and soda.
Lady Georgina rose in her wrath. ‘Yes, I’ll go if you wish it, Bertie,’ she answered, with calm irony. ‘I’ll leave the house as soon as you like—for the present—till we come back again with Harold and his policemen to evict you. This house is Harold’s. Your game is played, boy.’ She spoke slowly. ‘We have found the other will—we have discovered Higginson’s present address in Paris—and we know from White how he and you arranged this little conspiracy.’
She rapped out each clause in this last accusing sentence with deliberate effect, like so many pistol-shots. Each bullet hit home. The pea-green young man, drawing back and staring, stroked his shadowy moustache with feeble fingers in undisguised astonishment. Then he dropped into a chair and fixed his gaze blankly on Lady Georgina. ‘Well, this is a fair knock-out,’ he ejaculated, fatuously disconcerted. ‘I wish Higginson was heah. I really don’t quite know what to do without him. That fellah had squared it all up so neatly, don’t yah know, that I thought there couldn’t be any sort of hitch in the proceedings.’
‘You reckoned without Lois,’ Lady Georgina said, calmly.
‘Ah, Miss Cayley—that’s true. I mean, Mrs. Tillington. Yaas, yaas, I know, she’s a doosid clevah person—for a woman,—now isn’t she?’
It was impossible to take this flabby creature seriously, even as a criminal. Lady Georgina’s lips relaxed. ‘Doosid clever,’ she admitted, looking at me almost tenderly.
‘But not quite so clevah, don’t yah know, as Higginson!’
‘There you make your blooming little erraw,’ Mr. Hayes burst in, adopting one of Lord Southminster’s favourite witticisms—the sort of witticism that improves, like poetry, by frequent repetition. ‘Policemen, you may go into the next room and wait: this is a family affair; we have no immediate need of you.’
‘Oh, certainly,’ Lord Southminster echoed, much relieved. ‘Very propah sentiment! Most undesirable that the constables should mix themselves up in a family mattah like this. Not the place for inferiahs!’
‘Then why introduce them?’ Lady Georgina burst out, turning on him.
He smiled his fatuous smile. ‘That’s just what I say,’ he answered. ‘Why the jooce introduce them? But don’t snap my head off!’
The policemen withdrew respectfully, glad to be relieved of this unpleasant business, where they could gain no credit, and might possibly involve themselves in a charge of assault. Lord Southminster rose with a benevolent grin, and looked about him pleasantly. The brandies and soda had endowed him with irrepressible cheerfulness.
‘Well?’ Lady Georgina murmured.
‘Well, I think I’ll leave now, Georgey. You’ve trumped my ace, yah know. Nasty trick of White to go and round on a fellah. I don’t like the turn this business is taking. Seems to me, the only way I have left to get out of it is—to turn Queen’s evidence.’
Lady Georgina planted herself firmly against the door. ‘Bertie,’ she cried, ‘no, you don’t—not till we’ve got what we want out of you!’
He gazed at her blandly. His face broke once more into an imbecile smile. ‘You were always a rough ‘un, Georgey. Your hand did sting! Well, what do you want now? We’ve each played our cards, and you needn’t cut up rusty over it—especially when you’re winning! Hang it all, I wish I had Higginson heah to tackle you!’
‘If you go to see the Treasury people, or the Solicitor-General, or the Public Prosecutor, or whoever else it may be,’ Lady Georgina said, stoutly, ‘Mr. Hayes must go with you. We’ve trumped your ace, as you say, and we mean to take advantage of it. And then you must trundle yourself down to Bow Street afterwards, confess the whole truth, and set Harold at liberty.’
‘Oh, I say now, Georgey! The whole truth! the whole blooming truth! That’s really what I call humiliating a fellah!’
‘If you don’t, we arrest you this minute—fourteen years’ imprisonment!’
‘Fourteen yeahs?’ He wiped his forehead. ‘Oh, I say. How doosid uncomfortable. I was nevah much good at doing anything by the sweat of my brow. I ought to have lived in the Garden of Eden. Georgey, you’re hard on a chap when he’s down on his luck. It would be confounded cruel to send me to fourteen yeahs at Portland.’
‘You would have sent my husband to it,’ I broke in, angrily, confronting him.
‘What? You too, Miss Cayley?— I mean Mrs. Tillington. Don’t look at me like that. Tigahs aren’t in it.’
His jauntiness disarmed us. However wicked he might be, one felt it would be ridiculous to imprison this schoolboy. A sound flogging and a month’s deprivation of wine and cigarettes was the obvious punishment designed for him by nature.
‘You must go down to the police-court and confess this whole conspiracy,’ Lady Georgina went on after a pause, as sternly as she was able. ‘I prefer, if we can, to save the family—even you, Bertie. But I can’t any longer save the family honour—I can only save Harold’s. You must help me to do that; and then, you must give me your solemn promise—in writing—to leave England for ever, and go to live in South Africa.’
He stroked the invisible moustache more nervously than before. That penalty came home to him. ‘What, leave England for evah? Newmarket—Ascot—the club—the music-halls!’
‘Or fourteen years’ imprisonment!’
‘Georgey, you spank as hard as evah!’
‘Decide at once, or we arrest you!’
He glanced about him feebly. I could see he was longing for his lost confederate. ‘Well, I’ll go,’ he said at last, sobering down; ‘and your solicitaw can trot round with me. I’ll do all that you wish, though I call it most unfriendly. Hang it all, fourteen yeahs would be so beastly unpleasant!’
We drove forthwith to the proper authorities, who, on hearing the facts, at once arranged to accept Lord Southminster and White as Queen’s evidence, neither being the actual forger. We also telegraphed to Paris to have Higginson arrested, Lord Southminster giving us up his assumed name with the utmost cheerfulness, and without one moment’s compunction. Mr. Hayes was quite right: each conspirator was only too ready to save himself by betraying his fellows. Then we drove on to Bow Street (Lord Southminster consoling himself with a cigarette on the way), just in time for Harold’s case, which was to be taken, by special arrangement, at 3.30.
A very few minutes sufficed to turn the tables completely on the conspirators. Harold was discharged, and a warrant was issued for the arrest of Higginson, the actual forger. He had drawn up the false will and signed it with Mr. Ashurst’s name, after which he had presented it for Lord Southminster’s approval. The pea-green young man told his tale with engaging frankness. ‘Bertie’s a simple Simon,’ Lady Georgina commented to me; ‘but he’s also a rogue; and Higginson saw his way to make excellent capital of him in both capacities—first use him as a catspaw, and then blackmail him.’
On the steps of the police-court, as we emerged triumphant, Lord Southminster met us—still radiant as ever. He seemed wholly unaware of the depths of his iniquity: a fresh dose of brandy had restored his composure. ‘Look heah,’ he said, ‘Harold, your wife has bested me! Jolly good thing for you that you managed to get hold of such a clevah woman! If you hadn’t, deah boy, you’d have found yourself in Queeah Street! But, I say, Lois—I call yah Lois because you’re my cousin now, yah know—you were backing the wrong man aftah all, as I told yah. For if you’d backed me, all this wouldn’t have come out; you’d have got the tin and been a countess as well, aftah the governah’s dead and gone, don’t yah see. You’d have landed the double event. So you’d have pulled off a bettah thing for yourself in the end, as I said, if you’d laid your bottom dollah on me for winnah!’
Higginson is now doing fourteen years at Portland; Harold and I are happy in the sweetest place in Gloucestershire; and Lord Southminster, blissfully unaware of the contempt with
which the rest of the world regards him, is shooting big game among his ‘boys’ in South Africa. Indeed, he bears so little malice that he sent us a present of a trophy of horns for our hall last winter.
DISCOVERY, by Kristine Kathryn Rusch
“Over there.” Pita Cardenas waved a hand at the remaining empty spot on the floor of her office. The Federal Express delivery man rested a hand on top of the stack of boxes on his handcart.
“I don’t think it’ll fit.”
It probably wouldn’t. Her office was about the size of the studio apartment she’d had when she went to law school in Albuquerque. She could have had a cubicle with more square footage if she’d taken the job that La Jolla, Webster, and Garcia offered her when she graduated from law school five years before.
But her mother had been dying, and had refused to leave Rio Gordo. So Pita had come back to the town she thought she’d escaped from, put out her shingle, and had gotten a handful of cases, enough to pay the rent on this sorry excuse for an office. If she’d wanted something bigger, she would have had to buy, and even at Rio Gordo’s depressed prices, she couldn’t afford payments on the most dilapidated building in town.
She stood up. The Fed Ex guy, who drove here every day from Lubbock, was looking at her with pity. He was trim and tanned, with a deep West Texas accent. If she had been less tired and overwhelmed, she would have flirted with him.
“Let’s put this batch in the bathroom,” she said and led the way through the rabbit path she’d made between the boxes. The Fed Ex guy followed, dragging the six boxes on his handtruck and probably chafing at the extra time she was costing him.
She opened the door. He put the boxes inside, tipped an imaginary hat to her, and left. She’d have to crawl over them to get to the toilet, but she’d manage.
The Lady Sleuths MEGAPACK ™: 20 Modern and Classic Tales of Female Detectives Page 157
