"Yes, Mr. Beecot, I am. I hear that you have not taken my warning regarding your friend, Mr. Grexon Hay."
"Ah! Then you knew his name all the time!"
"Of course I did. I merely spoke to you to set you on your guard against him. He"ll do you no good."
"But he was at school with me," said Beecot, angrily.
"That doesn"t make him any the better companion," replied Hurd; "see here, Mr. Beecot, we can talk of this matter another time. At present, as I am allowed to converse with you only for a short time, I wish to ask you about the opal serpent."
Paul sat up, although Hurd tried to keep him down. "What do you know of that?--why do you come to me?"
"I know very little and want to know more. As I told you, my name is Billy Hurd, and, as I did _not_ tell you, I am the detective whom the Treasury has placed in charge of this case."
"Norman"s murder?"
"Yes! Have you read the papers?"
"A few, but not enough. The doctors took them from me and--"
"Gently, Mr. Beecot. Let us talk as little as possible. Where did you get that brooch?"
"Why do you want to know? You don"t suspect me, I hope?"
Hurd laughed. "No. You have been in this ward all the time. But as the brooch was used cruelly to seal the dead man"s mouth, it seems to me, and to Inspector Prince, that the whole secret of the murder lies in tracing it to its original possessor. Now tell me all about it," said Billy, and spread out his note-book.
"I will if you"ll tell me about Miss Norman. I"m engaged to marry her and I hear she is ill."
"Oh, she is much better," said Hurd, pausing pencil in hand, "don"t distress yourself. That young lady is all right; and when you marry her you"ll marry an heiress, as I learn from the lawyer who does the business of the deceased."
"I don"t care about her being the heiress. Will you take a message to her from me?"
"Certainly. What is it?" Hurd spoke quite sympathetically, for even though he was a detective he was a human being with a kindly heart.
"Tell her how sorry I am, and that I"ll come and see her as soon as I can leave this confounded hospital. Thanks for your kindness, Mr. Hurd.
Now, what do you wish to know? Oh, yes--about the opal serpent, which, as you say, and as I think, seems to be at the bottom of all the trouble. Listen," and Paul detailed all he knew, taking the story up to the time of his accident.
Hurd listened attentively. "Oh," said he, with a world of meaning, "so Mr. Grexon Hay was with you? Hum! Do you suppose he pushed you into the road on purpose?"
"No," said Paul, staring, "I"m sure he didn"t. What had he to gain by acting in such a way?"
"Money, you may be sure," said Hurd. "That gentleman never does anything without the hope of a substantial reward. Hush! We"ll talk of this when you"re better, Mr. Beecot. You say the brooch was lost."
"Yes. It must have slipped out of my pocket when I fell under the wheels of that machine. I believe there were a number of loafers and ragged creatures about, so it is just possible I may hear it has been picked up. I"ve sent an advertis.e.m.e.nt to the papers."
Hurd shook his head. "You won"t hear," he said. "How can you expect to when you know the brooch was used to seal the dead man"s lips?"
"I forgot that," said Paul, faintly. "My memory--"
"Is not so good as it was." Hurd rose. "I"ll go, as I see you are exhausted. Good-bye."
"Wait! You"ll keep me advised of how the case goes?"
"Certainly, if the doctors will allow me to. Good-bye," and Hurd went away very well satisfied with the information he had obtained.
The clue, as he thought it was, led him to Wargrove, where he obtained useful information from Mr. Beecot, who gave it with a very bad grace, and offered remarks about his son"s being mixed up in the case, which made Hurd, who had taken a fancy to the young fellow, protest. From Wargrove, Hurd went to Stowley, in Buckinghamshire, and interviewed the p.a.w.nbroker whose a.s.sistant had wrongfully sold the brooch to Beecot many years before. There he learned a fact which sent him back to Mr. Jabez Pash in London.
"I says, sir," said Hurd, when again in the lawyer"s private room, "that nautical gentleman of yours p.a.w.ned that opal serpent twenty years ago more or less."
"Never," said the monkey, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up his face and chewing.
"Yes, indeed. The p.a.w.nbroker is an old man, but he remembers the customer quite well, and his description, allowing for the time that has elapsed, answers to the man who tried to get the jewels from you."
Mr. Pash chewed meditatively, and then inflated his cheeks. "Pooh," he said, "twenty years is a long time. A man then, and a man now, would be quite different."
"Some people never change," said Hurd, quietly. "You have not changed much, I suspect."
"No," cackled the lawyer, rather amused. "I grew old young, and have never altered my looks."
"Well, this nautical gentleman may be the same. He p.a.w.ned the article under the name of David Green--a feigned one, I suspect."
"Then you think he is guilty?"
"I have to prove that the brooch came into his possession again before I can do that," said Hurd, grimly. "And, as the brooch was lost in the street by Mr. Beecot, I don"t see what I can do. However, it is strange that a man connected with the p.a.w.ning of the brooch so many years ago should suddenly start up again when the brooch is used in connection with a terrible crime."
"It is strange. I congratulate you on having this case, Mr. Hurd. It is an interesting one to look into."
"And a mighty difficult one," said Hurd, rather depressed. "I really don"t see my way. I have got together all the evidence I can, but I fear the verdict at the inquest will be wilful murder against some person or persons unknown."
Hurd, who was not blind to his own limitations like some detectives, proved to be a true prophet. The inquest was attended by a crowd of people, who might as well have stayed away for all they learned concerning the ident.i.ty of the a.s.sa.s.sin. It was proved by the evidence of Sylvia and Deborah how the murder had taken place, but it was impossible to show who had strangled the man. It was presumed that the a.s.sa.s.sin or a.s.sa.s.sins had escaped when Deborah went upstairs to shout murder out of the first-floor window. By that time the policeman on the Gwynne Street beat was not in sight, and it would have been easy for those concerned in the crime--if more than one--to escape by the cellar door, through the pa.s.sage and up the street to mingle with the people in the Strand, which, even at that late hour, would not be deserted. Or else the a.s.sa.s.sin or a.s.sa.s.sins might have got into Drury Lane and have proceeded towards Oxford Street. But in whatever direction they went, none of the numerous policemen around the neighborhood on that fatal night had "spotted" any suspicious persons. It was generally a.s.sumed, from the peculiar circ.u.mstances of the crime, that more than one person was inculpated, and these had come out of the night, had committed the cruel deed, and then had vanished into the night, leaving no trace behind. The appearance of the fellow whom Mr. Pash called the nautical gentleman certainly was strange, and led many people to believe that robbery was the motive for the commission of the crime. "This man, who was powerful and could easily have overpowered a little creature like Norman, came to rob," said these wiseacres. "Finding that the jewels were gone, and probably from a memorandum finding that they were in the possession of the lawyer, he attempted the next morning to get them--"
and so on. But against this was placed by other people the cruel circ.u.mstances of the crime. No mere robbery would justify the brooch being used to pin the dead man"s lips together. Then, again, the man being strangled before his daughter"s eyes was a refinement of cruelty which removed the case from a mere desire on the part of the murdered to get money. Finally, one man, as the police thought, could not have carried out the abominable details alone.
So after questions had been asked and evidence obtained, and details shifted, and theories raised, and pros and cons discussed, the jury was obliged to bring in the verdict predicted by Mr. Hurd. "Wilful murder against some person or persons unknown," said the jury, and everyone agreed that this was the only conclusion that could be arrived at.
Of course the papers took up the matter and asked what the police were doing to permit so brutal a murder to take place in a crowded neighborhood and in the metropolis of the world. "What was civilisation coming to and--" etc., etc. All the same the public was satisfied that the police and jury had done their duty. So the inquest was held, the verdict was given, and then the remains of Aaron Norman were committed to the grave; and from the journals everyone knew that the daughter left behind was a great heiress. "A million of money," said the Press, and lied as usual.
CHAPTER IX
CASTLES IN THE AIR
So Aaron Norman, the second-hand bookseller of Gwynne Street, was dead and buried, and, it may be said, forgotten. Sylvia and those connected with her remembered the old man and his unhappy end, but the public managed to forget all about the matter in a wonderfully short s.p.a.ce of time. Other events took place, which interested the readers of the newspapers more, and few recalled the strange Gwynne Street crime. Many people, when they did think, said that the a.s.sa.s.sins would never be discovered, but in this they were wrong. If money could hunt down the person or persons who had so cruelly murdered Aaron Norman, his daughter and heiress was determined that money could not be better spent. And Billy Hurd, knowing all about the case and taking a profound interest in it by reason of the mystery which environed it, was selected to follow up what clues there were.
But while London was still seething with the tragedy and strangeness of the crime, Mr. Jabez Pash came to the heterogeneously-furnished sitting-room in Gwynne Street to read the will. For there was a will after all. Deborah, and Bart, who had witnessed it at the request of their master, told Mr. Pash of its existence, and he found it in one of the three safes in the cellar. It proved to be a short, curt doc.u.ment, such as no man in his senses would think of making when disposing of five thousand a year. Aaron was a clever business man, and Pash was professionally disgusted that he had left behind him such a loose testament.
"Why didn"t he come to me and have it properly drawn up?" he asked as he stood in the cellar before the open safe with the sc.r.a.p of paper in his hand.