by Fergus Hume
CHAPTER XVII
HURD'S INFORMATION
For the next day or two Paul was kept closely to work in the office,reading a number of tales which were awaiting his judgment. After hours,he several times tried to see Billy Hurd, but was unable to meet him. Heleft a note at the Scotland Yard office, asking if Hurd had received hiscommunication regarding Mrs. Krill, and if so, what he proposed to doconcerning it. Hurd did not reply to this note, and Paul was growingpuzzled over the silence of the detective. At length the answer came,not in writing, but in the person of Hurd himself, who called on Beecot.
The young man had just finished his frugal meal and was settling down toan evening's work when there came a knock to the door. Hurd, dressed inhis usual brown suit, presented himself, looking cool and composed. Buthe was more excited than one would imagine, as Paul saw from theexpression of his eyes. The detective accepted a cup of coffee andlighted his pipe. Then he sat down in the arm-chair on the opposite sideof the fireplace and prepared to talk. Paul heaped on coals with alavish hand, little as he could afford this extravagance, as the nightwas cold and he guessed that Hurd had much to say. So, on the whole,they had a very comfortable and interesting conversation.
"I suppose you are pleased to see me?" asked Hurd, puffing meditativelyat his briar.
Paul nodded. "Very glad," he answered, "that is, if you have doneanything about Mrs. Krill?"
"Well," drawled the detective, smiling, "I have been investigating thatmurder case."
"Lady Rachel Sandal's?" said Beecot, eagerly. "Is it really murder?"
"I think so, though some folks think it suicide. Curious you should havestumbled across that young lord," went on Hurd, musingly, "and morecurious still that he should have been in the room with Mrs. Krillwithout recollecting the name. There was a great fuss made about it atthe time."
"Oh, I can understand Lord George," said Beecot, promptly. "The murder,if it is one, took place before he was born, and as there seems to havebeen some scandal in the matter, the family hushed it up. This youngfellow probably gathered scraps of information from old servants, butfrom what he said to me in the cab, I think he knows very little."
"Quite enough to put me on the track of Lemuel Krill's reason forleaving Christchurch."
"Is that the reason?"
"Yes. Twenty-three years ago he left Christchurch at the very time LadyRachel was murdered in his public-house. Then he disappeared for a time,and turned up a year later in Gwynne Street with a young wife whom hehad married in the meantime."
"Sylvia's mother?"
"Exactly. And Miss Norman was born a year later. She's nearlytwenty-one, isn't she?"
"Yes. She will be twenty-one in three months."
Hurd nodded gravely. "The time corresponds," said he. "As the crime wascommitted twenty-three years back and Lord George is only twenty, I canunderstand how he knows so little about it. But didn't he connect Mrs.Krill with the man who died in Gwynne Street?"
"No. She explained that. The name of Krill appeared only a few times inthe papers, and was principally set forth with the portrait, in thehand-bills. I shouldn't think Lord George was the kind of young man tobother about hand-bills."
"All the same, he might have heard talk at his club. Everyone isn't sostupid."
"No. But, at all events, he did not seem to connect Mrs. Krill with thedead man. And even with regard to the death of his aunt, he fancied shemight not be the same woman."
"What an ass he must be," said Hurd, contemptuously.
"I don't think he has much brain," confessed Paul, shrugging hisshoulders; "but he asked me if I thought Mrs. Krill was the same as thelandlady of 'The Red Pig,' and I denied that she was. I don't liketelling lies, but in this case I hope the departure from truth will bepardoned."
"You did very right," said the detective. "The fewer people know aboutthese matters the better--especially a chatterbox like this young fool."
"Do you know him?"
"Yes, under the name of the Count de la Tour. But I know of him inanother way, which I'll reveal later. Hay is still fleecing him?"
"He is. But Lord George seems to be growing suspicious of Hay," and Paulrelated the conversation he had with the young man.
Hurd grunted. "I'm sorry," he said. "I want to catch Hay red-handed, andif Lord George grows too clever I may not be able to do so."
"Well," said Paul, rather impatiently, "never mind about that fellowjust now, but tell me what you have discovered."
"Oh, a lot of interesting things. When I got your letter, of course I atonce connected the opal serpent with Aaron Norman, and his change ofname with the murder. I knew that Norman came to Gwynne Street overtwenty years ago--that came out in the evidence connected with hisdeath. Therefore, putting two and two together, I searched in thenewspapers of that period and found what I wanted."
"A report of the case?"
"Precisely. And after that I hunted up the records at Scotland Yard forfurther details that were not made public. So I got the whole storytogether, and I am pretty certain that Aaron Norman, or as he then was,Lemuel Krill, murdered Lady Rachel for the sake of that preciousbrooch."
"Ah," said Paul, drawing a breath, "now I understand why he fainted whenhe saw it again. No wonder, considering it was connected in his mindwith the death of Lady Rachel."
"Quite so. And no wonder the man kept looking over his shoulder in theexpectation of being tapped on the shoulder by a policeman. I don'twonder also that he locked up the house and kept his one eye on theground, and went to church secretly to pray. What a life he must haveled. Upon my soul, bad as the man was, I'm sorry for him."
"So am I," said Paul. "And after all, he is Sylvia's father."
"Poor girl, to have a murderer for a father!"
Beecot turned pale. "I love Sylvia for herself," he said, with aneffort, "and if her father had committed twenty murders I would not lether go. But she must never know."
"No," said Hurd, stretching his hand across and giving Paul a friendlygrip, "and I knew you'd stick to her. It wouldn't be fair to blame thegirl for what her father did before she was born."
"We must keep everything from her, Hurd. I'll marry her and take herabroad sooner than she should learn of this previous murder. But how didit happen?"
"I'll tell you in a few minutes." Hurd rose and began to pace the narrowlimits of the attic. "By the way, do you know that Norman was a secretdrinker of brandy?"
Paul nodded, and told the detective what he had learned from Mrs. Krill.Hurd was much struck with the intelligence. "I see," said he; "what Mrs.Krill says is quite true. Drink does change the ordinary nature into theopposite. Krill sober was a timid rabbit; Krill drunk was a murderer anda thief. Good lord, and how he drank!"
"How do you know?"
"Well," confessed Hurd, nursing his chin, "Pash and I went to search theGwynne Street house to find, if possible, the story alluded to in thescrap of paper Deborah Junk found. We couldn't drop across anything ofthat sort, but in Norman's bedroom, which nobody ever entered, we foundbrandy bottles by the score. Under the bed, ranged along the walls,filling cupboards, stowed away in boxes. I had the curiosity to countthem. Those we found, ran up to five hundred, and Lord knows how manymore he must have got rid of when he found the bottles crowding himinconveniently."
"I expect he got drunk every night," said Paul, thinking. "When helocked up Sylvia and Deborah in the upper room--I can understand now whyhe did so--he could go to the cellar and take possession of the shop keyleft on the nail by Bart. Then, free from all intrusion, he could drinktill reeling. Not that I think he ever did reel," went on Beecot,mindful of what Mrs. Krill had said; "he could stand a lot, and I expectthe brandy only converted him into a demon."
"And a clever business man," said Hurd. "You know Aaron Norman was notclever over the books. Bart sold those, but from all accounts he was aShylock when dealing, after seven o'clock, in the pawnbroking way. Iunderstand now. Sober, he was a timid fool; drunk, he was a bold, clevervillain."
"My
poor Sylvia, what a father," sighed Paul; "but this crime--"
"I'll tell you about it. Lemuel Krill and his wife kept 'The Red Pig' atChristchurch, a little public house it is, on the outskirts of the town,frequented by farm-laborers and such-like. The business was pretty good,but the couple didn't look to making their fortune. Mrs. Krill was afarmer's daughter."
"A Buckinghamshire farmer," said Paul.
"How do you know? oh!"--on receiving information--"Mrs. Krill told youso? Well, considering the murder of Lady Rachel, she would have donebetter to hold her tongue and have commenced life with her deadhusband's money under a new name. She's a clever woman, too," musedHurd, "I can't understand her being so unnecessarily frank."
"Never mind, go on," said Paul, impatiently.
Hurd returned to his seat and re-filled his pipe. "Well, then," hecontinued, "Krill got drunk and gave his wife great trouble. Sometimeshe thrashed her and blacked her eyes, and he treated their daughterbadly too."
"How old was the daughter?"
"I can't say. Why do you ask?"
"I'll tell you later. Go on, please."
"Well, then, Mrs. Krill always revenged herself on her husband when hewas sober and timid, so the couple were evenly matched. Krill was masterwhen drunk, and his wife mistress when he was sober. A kind of see-sawsort of life they must have led."
"Where does Lady Rachel come in?"
"What an impatient chap you are," remonstrated Hurd, in a friendly tone."I'm coming to that now. Lady Rachel quarrelled with her father oversome young artist she wanted to marry. He would not allow the lover tocome to the Hall, so Lady Rachel said she would kill herself rather thangive him up."
"And she did," said Paul, thinking of the suicide theory.
"There you go again. How am I to tell you all when you interrupt."
"I beg your pardon. I won't do so again."
Hurd nodded smilingly and continued. "One night--it was dark andstormy--Lady Rachel had a row royal with her father. Then she ran out ofthe Hall saying her father would never see her alive again. She may haveintended to commit suicide certainly, or she may have intended to joinher lover in London. But whatever she intended to do, the rain cooledher. She staggered into Christchurch and fell down insensible at thedoor of 'The Red Pig.' Mrs. Krill brought her indoors and laid her on abed."
"Did she know who the lady was?"
Hurd shook his head. "She said in her evidence that she did not, butliving in the neighborhood, she certainly must have seen Lady Rachelsometimes. Krill was drunk as usual. He had been boozing all the daywith a skipper of some craft at Southampton. He was good for nothing, soMrs. Krill did everything. She declares that she went to bed at elevenleaving Lady Rachel sleeping."
"Did Lady Rachel recover her senses?"
"Yes--according to Mrs. Krill--but she refused to say who she was, andmerely stated that she would sleep at 'The Red Pig' that night and wouldgo on to London next morning. Mrs. Krill swore that Lady Rachel had noidea of committing suicide. Well, about midnight, Mrs. Krill, who sleptin one room with her daughter, was awakened by loud shouts. She sprangto her feet and hurried out, her daughter came also, as she had beenawakened and was terrified. Mrs. Krill found that her husband was ravingmad with drink and smashing the furniture in the room below. Theskipper--"
"What was the skipper's name?"
"Jessop--Jarvey Jessop. Well, he also, rather drunk, was retiring to bedand stumbled by chance into Lady Rachel's room. He found her quite deadand shouted for assistance. The poor lady had a silk handkerchief shewore tied tightly round her throat and fastened to the bedpost. WhenJessop saw this, he ran out of the inn in dismay. Mrs. Krill descendedto give the alarm to her neighbors, but Krill struck her down, andstruck his daughter also, making her mouth bleed. An opal brooch thatLady Rachel wore was missing, but Mrs. Krill only knew of that the nextday. She was insensible from the blow given by Krill, and the daughterran out to get assistance. When the neighbors entered, Krill was gone,and notwithstanding all the search made for him he could not be found."
"And Jessop?"
"He turned up and explained that he had been frightened on finding thewoman dead. But the police found him on his craft at Southampton, and hegave evidence. He said that Krill when drunk, and like a demon, as Mrs.Krill told you, had left the room several times. The last time he cameback, he and the skipper had a final drink, and then Jessop retired tofind--the body. It was supposed by the police that Krill had killed LadyRachel for the sake of the brooch, which could not be discovered--"
"But the brooch--"
"Hold on. I know what you are about to say. We'll come to that shortly.Let me finish this yarn first. It was also argued that, from LadyRachel's last words to her father, and from the position of thebody--tied by the neck to the bedpost--that she had committed suicide.Mrs. Krill, as I said, declared the deceased lady never mentioned theidea of making away with herself. However, Krill's flight and the chancethat, being drunk, he might have strangled the lady for the sake of thebrooch while out of the room, made many think he was the culprit,especially as Jessop said that Krill had noticed the brooch andcommented on the opals."
"He was a traveller in jewels once, according to his wife."
"Yes, and left that to turn innkeeper. Afterwards he vanished, as I say,and became a pawnbroker in Gwynne Street. Well, the jury at the inquestcould not agree. Some thought Lady Rachel had committed suicide, andothers that Krill had murdered her. Then the family didn't want ascandal, so in one way and another the matter was hushed up. The jurybrought in a verdict of suicide by a majority of one, so you can see howequally they were divided. Lady Rachel's body was laid in the familyvault, and nothing more was heard of Lemuel Krill."
"What did Mrs. Krill do?"
"She stopped on at the inn, as she told you. People were sorry for herand helped her, so she did very well. Mother and daughter have lived at'The Red Pig' all these years, highly respected, until they saw thehand-bills about Krill. Then the money was claimed, but as thecircumstance of Lady Rachel's fate was so old, nobody thought ofmentioning it till this young lord did so to you, and I--as yousee--have hunted out the details."
"What is your opinion, Hurd?" asked Paul, deeply interested.
"Oh, I think Krill murdered the woman and then cut to London. Thataccounts for his looking over his shoulder, etc., about which wetalked."
"But how did he get money to start as a bookseller? Premises are notleased in Gwynne Street for nothing."
"Well, he might have got money on the brooch."
"No. The brooch was pawned by a nautical gentleman." Paul started up."Captain Jessop, perhaps. You remember?" he said excitedly.
"Ah," said Hurd, puffing his pipe with satisfaction, "I see youunderstand. I mentioned that about the brooch to hear what you wouldsay. Yes, Jessop must have pawned the brooch at Stowley, and it musthave been Jessop who came with the note for the jewels to Pash."
"Ha," said Paul, walking excitedly about the room. "Then it would seemthat Jessop and Krill were in league?"
"I think so," said Hurd, staring at the fire. "And yet I am not sure.Jessop may have found that Krill had killed the woman, and then havemade him give up the brooch, which he afterwards pawned at Stowley.Though why he should go near Mrs. Krill's old home, I can't understand."
"Is Stowley near her old home?"
"Yes--in Buckinghamshire. However, after pawning the brooch I expectJessop lost sight of Krill till he must have come across him a few daysbefore the crime. Then he must have made Krill sign the paper orderingthe jewels to be given up by Pash, so that he might get money."
"A kind of blackmail in fact."
"Well," said Hurd, doubtfully, "after all, Jessop might have killedKrill himself."
"But how did Jessop get the brooch?"
"Ah, that I can't tell you, unless Norman himself picked it up in thestreet. We must find these things out. I'm going to Christchurch tomake inquiries. I'll let you know what I discover," and Hurd rose.
"One minute," said
Paul, hastily. "Do you think Miss Krill is the deadman's child?"
"Of course. She's as like her mother as two peas. Why do you ask?"
Paul detailed what Sylvia and Deborah had said. "So if she is overthirty," said Beecot, "she can't be Krill's child, or else she must havebeen born before Krill married his wife. In either case, she has noright to the money."
"It's strange," said Hurd, musingly. "I'll have to look into that.Meanwhile, I've got plenty to do."
"There's another thing I have to say."
"You'll confuse me, Beecot. What is it?"
"The sugar and that hawker," and Paul related what Sylvia had said aboutThuggism. Hurd sat down and stared. "That must be bosh," he said,looking at the novel, "and yet it's mighty queer. I say," he took thethree volumes, "will you lend me these?"
"Yes. Be careful. They are not mine."
"I'll be careful. But I can't dip into them just yet, nor can I go intothe Hindoo business, let alone this age of Miss Krill. The first thing Ihave to do is to go to Christchurch and see--"
"And see if Mrs. Krill was at home on the night of the sixth of July."
Hurd started. "Oh," said he, dryly, "the night the crime was committed,you mean? Well, I didn't intend to look up that point, as I do not seehow Mrs. Krill can be implicated. However, I'll take a note of that,"and this he did, and then continued. "But I'm anxious to find Jessop. Ishouldn't be at all surprised to learn that he committed the doublecrime."
"The double crime?"
"Yes. He might have strangled Lady Rachel, and twenty years later havekilled Krill. I can't be sure, but I think he is the guilty person."
