"Of course," he answered, "there are several poisons, the results of which bear such strong resemblance to symptoms of disease, that doctors are very frequently misled, and the verdict is `Death from natural causes." In dozens of cases every year the post-mortem proves disease, and thus the poisoner escapes."
"What causes you to think this?" I inquired eagerly, recollections of the tragedy in Kensington vividly in my mind.
"Well," he said, "I only make that allegation because every herbalist in London sells poisons in smaller or greater quant.i.ty. If he"s an unwise man, he asks no questions.--If he"s wise, he makes the usual inquiry."
"And then?"
"Well," the old man croaked with his small eyes twinkling in the semi-darkness, "the customer generally jays pretty dearly for the article."
"Which means that an entry is made in the poison-register which is not altogether the truth--eh?"
He smiled and nodded.
"When poisons are sold at a high price," the old herbalist answered, "the vendor has no desire to know for what purpose the drug is to be used. It is generally supposed that it is to kill vermin--you understand."
"And human beings are more often the victims?" I hazarded.
He raised his grey, s.h.a.ggy brows with an expression of affected ignorance, answering--
"Who can tell? The herbs or drugs are sold unlabelled, and wrapped in blank paper. As far as the herbalist is concerned, his liability is at an end, just as a cutler sells razors, or a gun-maker revolvers."
"And do you really believe that there is much secret poisoning in London at this moment?" I inquired, greatly interested.
"Believe it?" he echoed. "Why, there"s no doubt of it. Why do people buy certain herbs which can be used for no other purpose than the destruction of human life?"
"Do they actually buy poisons openly?" I exclaimed in surprise.
"Well, no, not exactly openly," he responded. "They are most of them very wary how they approach the subject, and all are prepared to pay heavily."
I looked at the odd, ugly figure before me. For the first time I had learned the secret of this trade. Perhaps even he retailed poisons to those who wanted such undesirable commodities, charging exorbitant prices for them, and entering fict.i.tious sales in the poison-book which, by law, he was compelled to keep.
"Have you actually ever had dealings with any poisoners?" I inquired.
"Remember," I added laughing, "that I"m not interviewing you, that we are friends, and that I don"t intend to publish this conversation in the newspapers."
"That"s rather a difficult question," he responded, with a look of mystery upon his face. "Perhaps I"d best reply that I"ve before now sold poisons to people who could want them for no other purpose than the removal of superfluous friends."
"But do they actually ask openly for this herb or that?"
"Certainly--with excuses for its use, of course," and he went on to remark how lucidly the science of poisoning was explained in a certain book which might be purchased anywhere for seven-and-sixpence, a work which had undoubtedly cost thousands of human lives. Then instantly I recollected. It was a copy of this same book that d.i.c.k had noticed in the morning-room at Riverdene.
"In this very room," the old fellow went on, "I"ve had some queer inquiries made by all sorts and conditions of people. Only the other day a young girl called to consult me, having heard, she said, that I sold for a consideration a certain deadly herb. By her voice she was evidently a lady."
His final observation increased my interest in this remarkable conversation.
"What was she like?" I inquired with eagerness, for since the affair at Phillimore Place I took the keenest interest in anything appertaining to poisons.
"She was rather tall and slim, dressed in black. But my eyes are not so good as they used to be, and, in the dark here, I couldn"t see much of her face through her veil. She was pretty, I think."
"And did you actually sell her what she wanted?"
He hesitated a moment.
"Certainly, and at my own price," he answered at last in his thin, rasping voice. "The stuff, one of the most dangerous and little-known compounds, not obtainable through any ordinary channel, is most difficult to handle. But I saw that it was not the first time she"d had azotics in her possession," and he smiled grimly, rendering his face the more hideous. "From her att.i.tude and conversation I should imagine her to be a very ingenious, but not altogether desirable acquaintance," he added.
"And didn"t you note anything by which you might recognise her again?"
I inquired. "Surely young girls are not in the habit of buying poison in that manner!"
"Well," croaked the distorted old fellow, with a grin, "I did notice one thing, certainly. She wore a brooch of rather uncommon pattern. It was a playing-card in gold and enamel--a tiny five of diamonds."
"A five of diamonds!" I gasped.
At that instant the truth became plain, although I hesitated to believe it. The brooch was Eva Glaslyn"s; one that she had worn only three days before when I was last down at Riverdene, and while on the water with her I had remarked its quaintness.
Could it be possible that she had actually purchased a deadly drug of this hideous old man? Or were there other brooches of similar pattern and design? Thus were increased the shadows which seemed to envelop her. My soul seemed killed within me.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
d.i.c.k BECOMES MYSTERIOUS.
The startling statement of Morris Lowry caused me very considerable uneasiness. On my return to Grey"s Inn, however, I made no mention of our strange conversation to d.i.c.k, who returned that evening rather late after a heavy day of news-hunting. Old Lowry had evidently been in a confidential mood that afternoon, and I had no right to expose any secret of his extraordinary business. Therefore I kept my own counsel, pondering deeply over his statement when Cleugh had gone forth to meet Lily, wondering whether it might have been some other woman who had worn the brooch with the five of diamonds.
I sat at the window gloomily watching the light fade from the leaden London sky. The evening was stifling, for no fresh air penetrated to that small open s.p.a.ce, surrounded as it was by miles and miles of smoke-blackened streets, and as night crept on the heavens became a dull red with the reflection of the myriad lights of the city.
Heedless of all, I strove to find some solution of the enigma.
Inquiries made by Boyd, one of the shrewdest detectives in London, had failed utterly. He was now relying solely upon me. There was but one clue, that given by the landlord of the house, and this I had followed with the result that the circ.u.mstances had only grown more and more bewildering. As far as could be discerned there was no motive whatever in taking the lives of either the man or the woman, while the escape of Eva was an astounding fact of which I longed for an explanation from her own lips.
I loved her. Yes, the more I reflected as I sat there gazing aimlessly across the square, regardless of the fleeting time, the more I became convinced that she was all the world to me. I recollected her daintiness and her grace, the sweetness of her smile and the music of her voice, telling myself that she alone was my idol, that my love for Mary had after all been a mere boyish fancy, and that this affection was a true, honest, deep-rooted one, the outcome of a great and boundless love.
Was there, however, not a great and terrible suspicion upon her? By a mere chance, that chance which Fate sends so often to thwart the murderer"s plans or give him up to justice, I had learnt that she--or some one answering exactly to her description--had actually purchased some poisonous compound. I had believed her to have been a victim on that fatal night, but now it seemed that, on the other hand, she was herself given to the study of poisons; a strange subject, indeed, for a woman to take up. Then calmly I asked myself if it were possible to cast all memory of her aside, and after reflection discovered that such a course was utterly unfeasible. To entertain no further thought of her was entirely out of all question, for I loved her with a fierce and intense affection, and thought of nought else but her strange connexion with this mystery which, if made public, would send a thrill through London.
There were some very ugly facts hidden somewhere, yet try how I would I could form no distinct straightforward theory. Eva was naive and sincere, frank and open, undesigning and entirely inartificial, nevertheless beneath her candour she seemed to be concealing some dread secret.
The latter I was determined to discover, and while night drew on and shadowy figures crossed and recrossed the square, I still sat plunged in thought, pondering deeply to find some means whereby to approach her.
I love her--a woman upon whom the gravest suspicion rested of having purchased a deadly drug for some nefarious purpose. Truly in the fitful fever of life the decree of Fate is oft-times strange. Men have loved murderesses, and women have, before now, given their hearts, nay, even their lives, to shield cowards and a.s.sa.s.sins.
Suddenly a movement behind me brought me back to a sense of my surroundings, and I saw that d.i.c.k had returned.
"Why, you"re back very early," I said. "Have you been down to the Crystal Palace?"
"Yes, of course," he answered gaily. "What have you been doing, you lazy beggar? It"s past half-past eleven."
"Nothing," I answered, surprised that it was so late. "I tried to write, but it"s too beastly hot to work."
"Quite fresh down at the Palace," he answered. "Big crowd on the Terrace, and the fireworks not at all bad."
"Lil all right?"
"Yes. Sends her regards, and all that sort of thing. But--" and he hesitated, at the same time tossing his hat across upon a chair, and seating himself on the edge of the table in that careless, devil-may-care style habitual to him.