The Mystery of the Clasped Hands: A Novel

by Guy Boothby

  CHAPTER IX

  The first train that left Detwich for London next morning had for itspassengers Sir Vivian Devereux, Godfrey Henderson, and Victor Fensden.Inspector Griffin was also travelling by it, not a little elated by theimportance of his errand. On reaching Euston, after promising to meetthem at the inquest, Fensden drove off to his club, while Sir Vivian andGodfrey made their way to Lincoln's Inn Fields, where they were to havean interview with Mr. Cornelius Bensleigh, of the firm of Bensleigh andBensleigh, solicitors. That gentleman had already received a letter fromGodfrey, written on the Saturday night, giving him an outline of theaffair, and acquainting him of the part the latter had played in themystery.

  "I am afraid this will be calculated to put you to a considerable amountof inconvenience, Mr. Henderson," said the lawyer, after they haddiscussed the matter for a few moments. "From what I can gather, youwere the last person to see the poor woman alive, and as Sir VivianDevereux says, for that reason we must be particularly careful that nobreath of scandal attaches itself to your name. Now, as cases like thisare somewhat foreign to our experience, I have made up my mind, always,of course, with your permission, that I will introduce you to agentleman who makes them his particular study. Of course, should youdesire it, I will put precedent on one side, and do all I can for you;but, if you will be guided by me, you will place your case in the handsof Mr. Codey, the gentleman to whom I refer, and whose name is doubtlessfamiliar to you. His office is not far from here, and if you willaccompany me, I shall be only too pleased to escort you to it, and tointroduce you to him."

  This course having been agreed upon, they accompanied him to the officeof the lawyer in question, and, after a few moments' delay, wereconducted to his presence. He looked more like a trainer of racehorsesthan a criminal lawyer. He was the possessor of a sharp, keen face, apair of restless eyes, a clean-shaven mouth and chin, while the whiskerson his cheeks were clipped to a nicety. The elderly lawyer introducedSir Vivian and Godfrey to him, and explained the nature of their visit.

  "Ah, the Burford Street murder," said Mr. Codey, as soon as he heard thename of the case. "I was wondering how long it would be before I wasdrawn into it. And so, Mr. Henderson, you have the misfortune to beconnected with it? As a matter of fact, I suppose you are the gentlemanin evening dress who was seen speaking to the girl on the pavementoutside the house."

  "I am; but how do you know it?" Godfrey asked, in considerable surprise.

  "I merely guessed it," said the lawyer. "I see from the papers that thedeceased was once your model. Now you come to me for help. I simply puttwo and two together, with the result aforesaid. Perhaps you will bekind enough to tell me all you know about it. Be very sure you keepnothing back; after that I shall know how to act."

  Thus encouraged, Godfrey set to work, and told the tale with which bythis time my readers are so familiar. The lawyer listened patiently,made a few notes on a sheet of paper as the story progressed, and whenhe had finished asked one or two more or less pertinent questions.

  "You say that you returned to your hotel immediately after yourinterview with the deceased?"

  "Immediately," Godfrey answered.

  "Did you take a cab?"

  "No," said Godfrey; "it was a cold night, and I thought the walk woulddo me good."

  "But you drove to the house in a cab?"

  "I did, and dismissed it at once."

  "That was unfortunate. Do you think the driver would know you again?"

  "I should think it very probable," said Godfrey.

  "You were standing under the lamp-post, of course, when you paid him,with the light shining full upon your face?"

  "I suppose so, as the lamp is exactly opposite the door; but I did notthink of that."

  "No; but, you see, I must think of these things," said the lawyer. "Andwhen you returned to your hotel?"

  "I called for a brandy and soda, and, having drunk it, went to bed."

  When he had learned all he desired to know, it was arranged that Mr.Codey should attend the coroner's court, and watch the case on Godfrey'sbehalf; after which they left the office. On reaching the club where SirVivian and Godfrey had elected to lunch, they found that the murder wasthe one absorbing topic of the day. This was more than Godfrey hadbargained for; for, when it was remembered that the deceased woman hadbeen his model, he was cross-questioned concerning her on every hand. Sounbearable did this at last become, that he proposed to Sir Vivian thatthey should take a stroll in the park until it should be time for themto set off to the business of the afternoon.

  When they reached the building in which the inquest was to be held, theydiscovered that a large crowd had collected; indeed, it was only withdifficulty, and after they had explained their errand, that they couldgain admittance to the building. Fensden was awaiting them there, stilllooking pale and worried; also Mr. Codey, the lawyer, appearing evenkeener than he had done at his office.

  "Public curiosity is a strange thing," said the latter, as he lookedround the packed court. "Probably not more than five persons now in thisroom ever saw the dead girl, and yet they crowd here as though theirlives depended upon their not losing a word of what is said about her."

  At this moment an official came forward, and said something to Godfreyin a low voice. The latter immediately followed him from the room. Whenhe returned he was very white, and he seemed visibly upset.

  Then the coroner entered, a portly, dignified gentleman, and took hisseat, after which the proceedings were opened in due form.

  The landlord of the house, in which the deceased had resided, was thefirst witness called. He deposed as to the name she was known by in thehouse, stated that she was supposed to be an artist's model, and that,to the best of his belief, she had been a quiet and respectable girl. Atany rate, her rent had invariably been paid on the day on which it hadbecome due. He had identified the body as being that of his lodger.During the time she had been with him he had never known her to receivea visitor; as a matter of fact, she had kept to herself; scarcelyspeaking to any one save when she returned their salutations on thestairs. He was not aware that she had received a letter, and, as far ashe knew, she had not a friend in London.

  The next witness was the German cabinet-maker, who had been the first todiscover the murder. He gave evidence through the medium of aninterpreter, and described how he had seen the congealed blood underthe door and the suspicions it had given rise to. In answer to aquestion put by a superintendent of police, who represented thecommissioner, he stated that he had never spoken to the deceased, forthe reason that he knew no English or Italian, and she was notacquainted with German. He had heard her go out on the night inquestion, and return shortly after midnight, but whether she wasaccompanied by any one he could not say. He also deposed to the positionof the body when they opened the door, and to the mysterious fact thatthe hands were missing.

  The next witness was the police-constable on the beat, who had beencalled in by the landlord. He gave evidence as to the opening of thedoor, and the discovery then made. He was followed by the doctor, whohad made the post-mortem examination, and who described the nature andsituation of the various wounds, and the conclusions he had drawntherefrom. Then came the first sensation of the afternoon, when thewell-known artist, Godfrey Henderson, was called. In answer to thevarious questions put to him, he deposed that he had known the deceasedfor upward of a year; that he had employed her for the model of hispicture, "A Woman of the People," and had always found her a quiet andeminently respectable girl. He had been compelled to dismiss her, notbecause he had any fault to find with her, but because he was goingabroad. This was not the last he had heard of her, for, while on theNile at Luxor, he had received a letter from her, informing him of heraddress, in view of any future work he might have for her. At Naples hehad again met her, when he was on his way back to England, and had takenher to the Opera in her mother's company. On the night of the murder, hehad again met her in the Strand, quite by accident, when, finding thatshe was in serious trouble, he had o
ffered to help her. She would notaccept his assistance, however. Noticing that she was in a most unhappystate, and not liking to leave her alone in the streets, he had called acab and escorted her to her abode in Burford Street. He did not enterthe building, however, but bade her good-bye in the street, after whichhe returned to his hotel. He was unable to assign any motive for thecrime, and added that the only person he could have believed would havecommitted it, was a man named Dardini, an Italian, who was in love withthe girl, and who had attempted his (the witness's) life in Naples, onthe night of the visit to the Opera. Whether the man was in England hewas unable to say. Whether she had been in want of money at the time ofhis last seeing her, he also was unable to say. She had declared thatshe was in work, that was all he knew of the matter.

  "On hearing that she was married, did you not inquire the name of herhusband?" asked the coroner.

  "I did," Godfrey replied, "but she refused to tell me."

  "Did not that strike you as being singular?"

  "No," Godfrey replied. "When she informed me that he was dead, I did notpress the matter."

  "You are quite sure, I suppose, that she was not married when you mether at Naples?"

  "I feel convinced that she was not; but I could not say so on my oath."

  "And when you opened the box, which you say was sent you at your countryresidence, were you not shocked at the discovery you made?"

  "Naturally I was!"

  "And what conclusions did you come to?"

  "I gathered from it that my old friend had been murdered."

  "What caused you to recognise her hands?"

  "A certain mark above the knuckle of the second finger, the result, Ishould say, of a burn."

  At this point, Mr. Codey, who had already informed the coroner that hewas appearing on behalf of the witness then being examined, asked animportant question.

  "On making this terrible discovery, what was your immediate action?"

  "I sent for my prospective father-in-law, Sir Vivian Devereux, and forthe police officer in charge of Detwich. It was at once agreed that weshould communicate with the authorities and that I should render themall the assistance in my power."

  "Pardon my touching upon such a matter, but I believe you are about tobe married, Mr. Henderson?" said the coroner.

  "I hope to be married on Thursday next," said Godfrey.

  "I do not think I need trouble you any further," the coroner thenremarked.

  The next witness was a police officer, who informed the Court thatinquiries had been made in Naples concerning the man Dardini, with theresult that it was discovered that he had been arrested for assault upona foreigner a fortnight before the deceased's return to England, andthat he was still in prison. This effectually disposed of hisassociation with the crime, and added an even greater air of mystery toit than before.

  When this witness had stepped down, Mr. Victor Fensden was called. Hestated that he was also an artist, and a friend of Mr. GodfreyHenderson. It was he who had first discovered the deceased, and he hadrecommended her to his friend for the picture of which she was afterwardthe principal figure. She had always struck him as being a quiet andrespectable girl. When asked why she had received her notice ofdismissal, Victor answered that it was because his friend, Mr.Henderson, had suddenly made up his mind to travel.

  "I understand you to say _suddenly_," said the superintendent in chargeof the case. "Why was it Mr. Henderson suddenly made up his mind to goabroad?"

  "I do not know that this question is at all relevant to the case," saidVictor, appealing to the coroner. "It was purely a private matter on Mr.Henderson's part."

  "But anything that bears on the question at issue can scarcely beirrelevant," said the coroner. "I think it would be better if you wouldanswer the question."

  Fensden paused for a moment while the Court waited in suspense.

  "I repeat my question," said the superintendent. "Why did the deceasedso suddenly lose her employment?"

  Once more Victor hesitated. Godfrey looked at him in surprise. Why didhe not go on?

  "We decided to travel on account of a conversation Mr. Henderson and Ihad concerning the girl."

  "What was that conversation?" inquired the coroner.

  Once more Fensden seemed to hesitate.

  "Did the conversation refer to the deceased?"

  "It did!"

  "I gather from your reluctance to answer that you were afraid Mr.Henderson might become attached to her, so you used your friendlyinfluence in order to hurry him away as quickly as possible? Am I rightin so supposing?"

  Another pause, during which Victor's face was seen to express greatemotion.

  "That was so."

  "You are sure that Mr. Henderson was attached to the deceased?"

  "I am sure of it."

  "Did you know that Mr. Henderson was aware of the deceased's return toNaples?"

  "I was aware that he was in correspondence with her," said Victor; "buthe said nothing to me of his intention to visit her in Naples."

  "Had you known this, would you have endeavoured to dissuade him fromsuch a course?"

  "I do not know what I should have done; but I should think it veryprobable that I should have endeavoured to prevent their meeting."

  "When did you become aware of the deceased's return to England?"

  "When Mr. Henderson informed me of it on my arrival at his house atDetwich Hall."

  "You were naturally very much surprised to hear that he had met her, Isuppose?"

  "Very much," Victor replied.

  "Did you say anything to him upon the subject?"

  "I warned him against the folly of being drawn into another entanglementwith her, particularly when he was to be married in ten days' time."

  "You say _another_ entanglement with her? Are we, therefore, tounderstand that there had been an entanglement before?"

  Again Victor paused before he replied.

  "I withdraw the word 'another,'" he said, hurriedly. "I did not mean itin that sense. I merely suggested to Mr. Henderson that his _fiancee_might not care to know that he had been seen driving through the streetsof London after midnight with an Italian girl, who had once been hismodel."

  "Good Heavens!" said Godfrey to himself. "And this is the man whom Ihave trusted and who has called himself my friend for so many years!"

  At this point the coroner, addressing the jury, stated his intention ofadjourning the inquiry until the following Wednesday morning at eleveno'clock. He had excellent reasons for keeping it open until then, hesaid, and these reasons he had communicated to the foreman of the jury,who was completely satisfied. The Court thereupon adjourned, andGodfrey presently found himself in the street with Mr. Codey on one sideand Sir Vivian Devereux on the other. Victor Fensden was waiting forthem on the pavement, and, as soon as they emerged, he approached themwith a face that still bore the traces of violent emotion.

  "Godfrey," he began, in a faltering voice, "after what they dragged outof me, I scarcely know what to say to you."

  "In any case, I beg that you will not say it," said Godfrey, coldly."You have said quite enough already." Then, turning to the others, hecontinued: "Come, gentlemen, let us find a cab. I suppose we had bettergo back to your office, Mr. Codey?"

  "I think it would be better," said that gentleman. "I must have a talkwith you upon this matter."

  Then, hailing a cab, they entered it, leaving Fensden on the pavementlooking after them. Godfrey's face was still very pale. It wasimpossible for him to be blind to the fact that his kindness to Teresinahad been the means of bringing down grave suspicion upon himself. Yet,even with that knowledge before him, he knew that he would not, orcould not, have acted otherwise than he had done.

  When they reached the lawyer's private office, the door was shut andthey sat down to business.

  "Well, Mr. Henderson," said Mr. Codey, "what is your opinion now?"

  "I think that the public mind is already jumping to the conclusion thatI am responsible for the murder," Godfrey
answered, without fear orhesitation.

  "I am very much afraid that you must accustom yourself to look upon itin that light," the other replied. "The man Fensden's evidence, given insuch a manner as he gave it, was unnecessarily damaging."

  "He is a black-hearted scoundrel," said the old baronet, wrathfully. "Itold you yesterday, Godfrey, that I didn't trust him, and that I feltsure he bore you some ill-will. And yet, do you know, Mr. Codey," headded, turning to the lawyer, "Mr. Henderson has done everything forthat man. He has practically kept him for years past, he took him on atour round Europe only a few months ago, and this is the result. Itmakes one sick with humanity."

  "When you have seen as much of humanity as I have, you will not besurprised at anything," said the lawyer. "The greater the obligation inmany cases, the deeper the ingratitude. We are wandering from the point,however. Now I am going to be plain-spoken. Tell me, Mr. Henderson, didyou ever, under any sort of circumstance, make love, or suggest love, tothe woman who is now deceased?"

  "Never," said Godfrey, firmly. "The man who declares that I did, lies."

  "Very probable, but that won't prevent his saying it. When you left herin Burford Street, did you meet any one near the house?"

  "Not a soul. The street, so far as I could see, was empty."

  "I think you said this morning that the night porter let you in at yourhotel? Did you make any remark to him respecting the time?"

  "Yes, I said to him when he had opened the door, 'I'm afraid I'm ratherlate,' then, looking at my watch, I added, 'Why, it's half-pasttwelve!'"

  "If he's blessed with a good memory, he will recollect that," saidCodey. Then with his usual abruptness, he continued, "Which way did youwalk from Burford Street?"

  "Through the Tottenham Court Road, along Oxford Street, and down BondStreet."

  "A man shall walk it quickly to-morrow morning in order to see how longit will take. If only that hall porter has a good memory, and can berelied upon, this should prove an important point."

  "But surely, my good sir," put in Sir Vivian, "you do not for a momentsuppose that Mr. Henderson will be accused of having killed this woman?"

  "I should not be at all surprised," said the lawyer, quietly. "Let usregard the facts of the case. Some months back, Mr. Henderson employedthis girl as his model, and retained her services when he really had noneed for them. He was on such familiar terms with her that his friendfelt compelled to remonstrate with him. As a result they left Englandhurriedly, the girl following them to Naples. No, no, Mr. Henderson, Ibeg that you will be silent. Remember, I am telling the story as Ishould tell it if I were against you instead of for you. As I have said,the girl left for Naples, and I insinuate that she followed you. It canbe proved that she corresponded with you, and that you sent your friendon his way to travel alone; always bearing in mind that he was the manwho had persuaded you to give the girl up. You, in the meantime,returned to Naples, in order to visit her again. You may dispute themotive, but you can not deny that you took her out to dinner and to atheatre afterward."

  "But her mother was with her," said Godfrey hurriedly, his face flushingangrily at the imputation put upon his action by the other.

  "That point is immaterial," the lawyer replied calmly. "It is sufficientfor the purposes of the prosecution that you met her there. Then youproceeded to England, and, after a little while in the country, becameengaged to the daughter of Sir Vivian, now present. The Italian girl hadalso gone to England. Why? To be with you, of course. You, however, seenothing of her. Therefore, she is unhappy. Why? Because you are about tobe married."

  "But that is only supposition," said Godfrey. "As a matter of fact, sheherself was already married."

  "To whom? Why not to yourself?"

  "Good Heavens, man," said Godfrey, starting from his seat, "you don'tsurely mean to say that you believe I had married her?"

  "I believe nothing," he replied, still with the same coolness. "But youwill find that the counsel for the prosecution will consider it morethan likely. Let me continue my story. I was saying that she was unhappybecause you were about to be married. It is only natural. Then you cameup to town, visited the theatre, and afterward, quite by chance, met herin the Strand, at midnight. At midnight, and by chance, mark that! Doesthat meeting look like an accidental one? Could you convince a jury thatit was? I doubt it. However, let us proceed. The girl is in trouble, andyou take her home in a hansom. The policeman and the cabman willcertainly identify you, and, for the reason that you say the street wasempty when you bade her good-bye, no one will be able to swear that youdid not go into the house with her. Now, Mr. Henderson, I ask you tolook these facts in the face, and tell me, as a thinking man, whetheryou consider the public is to be blamed if it regards you withsuspicion?"

  "As you put it, no," said Godfrey. "But it can surely be proved that Ihad nothing whatsoever to do with it, beyond what I have said."

  "Exactly; and that is what we have got to do. But I don't mind tellingyou candidly that I fancy we shall have our work cut out to do it. Yousee, we have to remember that, beyond your own evidence, there isabsolutely nothing for us to argue upon. The two strongest points inyour favour are the facts that you were at Detwich when the boxcontaining the dead woman's hands was sent off at Euston, and that therewould not be sufficient time between the moment when the policeman sawyou in Burford Street and the time when you arrived at your hotel, foryou to have committed the crime. What we have to do is to find theperson who despatched the box from London, and to make sure of the hallporter. In the meantime go back to Detwich, and be sure that you don'tstir from home until you hear from me."

  "One more question, Mr. Codey. I should like you, before we go anyfurther, to tell me honestly whether, in your own heart, you believe meto be innocent or guilty?"

  "I believe you to be innocent," said the lawyer; "and you may be sure Ishall try to prove it."