CHAPTER XXII
A WILFUL MURDER
Bruce sent a telegram to Mrs. Hillmer at Paris. "Matters satisfactorilyarranged pending your arrival," he wired, and early on Monday morning hereceived a reply:
"Due Charing Cross 7.30 P.M. Will drive straight to your chambers with my brother.
"GWENDOLINE HILLMER."
He forwarded the message with a note to the detective, asking him to bepresent.
About one o'clock Corbett turned up.
"Guess I slept well last night after the excitement," he said, with apleasant smile. "You seemed to skeer those chaps more with a few words,Mr. Bruce, than I did with a revolver."
"The English police are not so much afraid of revolvers as they are ofmaking mistakes," was the answer.
"Now, is that so? On our side they wouldn't have stopped to argy. Bothof 'em would have drawn on me at once."
"Then I am glad, for everybody's sake, Mr. Corbett, that the affairhappened in London."
"Why, sure. But tell me. Has my friend Mensmore been getting himselfinto trouble?"
"Not so much as it looks. Others appear to have involved him withouthis knowledge, and he has lent color to the accusations by involuntaryactions of a suspicious nature."
"Well, if it is permissible, I should like to hear the straight story."
Under the circumstances, Bruce thought that this stranger from Americahad a right to know why he was in danger of being arrested during hisfirst twenty-four hours' residence in the country, so he gave him asuccinct narrative of the _prima facie_ case against Mensmore.
Corbett listened in silence to the recital. When it ended he said:
"Mr. Bruce, my friend was incapable of murdering any woman. He wasequally incapable of conducting any discreditable _liaison_ with anywoman. I have known him for years, and a straighter, truer, morehonorable man I never met. I don't know what his reason was for assumingmy name, which he undoubtedly did, as the agent called this morning, andI find the flat is taken in my name."
"What did you say?"
"Oh, just that Mensmore had acted for me. The man seemed a bit puzzled,but he didn't kick when I offered to pay up the rent owing sinceChristmas, and another quarter in advance."
"I don't suppose he did. The rent was due, then?"
"Yes. It seems that Mensmore, writing in my name, sent a letter fromMonte Carlo a month ago, saying he would return about this time andsettle up."
"Thus proving his intention all along to come back to London. It is aqueer muddle, Mr. Corbett, is it not?"
"Very; but you will pardon me, as an outsider, saying one thing--you allappear to have overlooked a clear trail."
"And what is that?"
"What about Mrs. Hillmer? Who is she? Who are her friends? Who maintainsher in such style? Bertie was with me four years and never mentioned hername. She could not have been rich by inheritance, as it was on accountof their father going broke that Mensmore had to leave the Army and cometo the States. It strikes me, Mr. Bruce, that the woman knows more aboutthis affair than the man."
"You may be right. But do not forget the absolute proofs we possess thatthe crime occurred in Mensmore's chambers, and the extraordinarycoincidence that he left England immediately afterwards."
"I am not forgetting anything. Those facts tell both ways. Just becausehe quitted the country at the time somebody may have tried to throw theblame on him."
The theory was plausible, though Bruce could not accept it.Nevertheless, after Corbett had taken his departure he could not helpthinking about his references to Mrs. Hillmer. That there was force inthem he could not deny, and with the admission came the unpleasantthought that perhaps he, Bruce, was in some sense responsible for theneglect to clear up her antecedents.
However, a few hours might explain much.
With unwonted impatience the barrister awaited the coming of night. Hetried every expedient to kill time, and found each operation tedious.
He dined early, and as half-past seven came and passed he wondered whythe detective did not appear.
But his doubts on this point did not last long.
"White is looking at Charing Cross to make sure of their arrival," hesaid to himself.
At ten minutes to eight the detective came in hurriedly.
"They will be here directly," he announced. "A servant has taken theirluggage to Mrs. Hillmer's place, and they are evidently driving straighthere after taking some refreshment at the station."
"Have you no faith in human nature, Mr. White? Could you not trust theirwords?"
"Well, sir, my experience of human nature is that you can very seldomtrust anybody's word."
At last Smith announced Mrs. Hillmer and Mr. Mensmore.
When they entered Bruce was for the moment at a loss to know exactly howto receive them.
But Mrs. Hillmer settled the matter by greeting him with a quiet"Good-evening," and seating herself. Mensmore stood near the door, verypale and stern-looking.
"It appears, Mr. Bruce," he said, "that we met in Monte Carlo underfalse pretences. You were, it seems, a detective on the track of amurderer, and you were good enough to believe that I was the person yousought. It would have saved some misconception on my part had youexplained our _roles_ earlier. However, I am here, to meet the charge."
Claude was not unprepared for this attitude on Mensmore's part. But hewas determined that it should not continue if he could help it.
"When we parted at Monte Carlo, Mensmore," he said, "we parted asfriends."
"Yes."
"Then tell me what has happened since to cause this obvious change inyour opinion of me?"
"Is it not true that you suspect me of murdering Lady Dyke?"
"No."
"But why has my sister been told that I ran serious risk of beingapprehended on that account?"
"Because we certainly did suspect a mysterious personage who calledhimself Sydney H. Corbett, and whose behavior was so unaccountable thatthe authorities required a reasonable explanation of it."
"Do I understand, Bruce, that we meet with no more suspicion between usthan when we last saw each other?"
"Most certainly."
"Then I ask your pardon for my manner and words. I have suffered keenlyduring the last three days from this cruel thought. Let us shake handson it."
As their hands met they both heard Mrs. Hillmer stifle a sob. Mensmoreturned to her.
"Now, Gwen," he said, "don't be foolish. We will soon clear up thismiserable business. So far as we are concerned, all we need to do is totell the truth and fear nobody."
"That's it," said White. "If you adopt that course the matter will soonbe ended."
Mensmore turned to the speaker. He guessed his identity, but Bruceintroduced the detective by name.
"Well," said Mensmore, "I have come here to answer questions. What is ityou want to know?"
Mr. White glanced at the barrister, and the other explained.
"I have, as you may already realize, taken more than a passive interestin this inquiry, so the questioning largely devolves on me. First, tellme why you adopted the name of Corbett?"
"Simply enough, though stupid, I now admit. When I returned from theStates I was very hard up, but managed to pick up a subsistence bywriting for the sporting press, and occasionally backing horses. But Iknew this could not last, so I tried to secure some financial interestsin the City. In doing so I made the acquaintance of a man named Dodge,and committed myself to the underwriting of a new venture named theSpringbok Mine. This fell through at the time, and with this collapsecame other demands. I hate being worried by creditors, so when my sisteroffered to take and furnish a flat for me, near her own, I thought Iwould live quietly for a time and conceal my name so as to have peacethere at any rate. Therefore, I assumed the name of a friend in America,little thinking that I should land both him and myself into such troubleby doing it. That is the explanation. By the way, what has happened toCorbett?"
"He is all right. He exp
ects to see you to-night. You know Sir CharlesDyke, do you not?"
"Yes."
"Intimately?"
"Well, no, not exactly. He and I were at school together at Brighton, atChilde's place."
"At Brighton?"
"Yes. I was a little chap when Dyke was a senior. After he left, theheadmaster changed the school to a place called Seton Lodge, at Putney,on account of cramming operations for Army exams."
"Then you were at Putney?"
"Yes, for two years."
"And Dyke was not?"
"No; that I am sure of."
"Have you and Sir Charles been friendly since?"
Mensmore's face hardened somewhat as he answered, "I have seen verylittle of him, and hardly ever spoken to him."
"Why? Did you quarrel?"
"N-no, but we just did not happen to meet. Bear in mind, I was inbusiness some years ago, and I am not yet thirty."
"Did you know his wife?"
"I have never, to my knowledge, seen her."
"How, then, can you account for the fact that she visited your flat atRaleigh Mansions on November 6."
"I say that such a statement is mere nonsense."
"But if it can be proved?"
"It cannot."
"I assure you, on my honor, that it can."
"But look here, Bruce. Why should she come to see me? I question greatlyif she knew of my existence."
"Nevertheless, it is the fact."
"I can only tell you it is not. I left London on November 8, and on thetwo previous evenings I dined alone. Mrs. Robinson, my housekeeper, cantell you that not another soul entered my flat for a week prior to mydeparture, except my sister and--and--I had forgotten--some workmen."
"Some workmen?"
"Yes; some fellows from a furniture warehouse."
"What were they doing?"
"Well, don't you see, I told you I was not well off, and my sisterfurnished my flat for me, in August last that was, but the drawing-roomwas left bare for a time. Just before I left for France she decided torefurnish her drawing-room, and she gave me the whole fit-out. Thethings were brought in by the men who brought her purchases."
At this astounding revelation Bruce and the detective were utterly takenaback. It was with difficulty that the barrister enunciated his nextwords clearly.
"Can you tell me with absolute certainty the date of this change of thefurniture?"
"Oh yes. It was the day before I started for the Riviera; that must havebeen November 7."
"Are you positive of this?"
"Undoubtedly. Is it a matter of importance? Gwen, you know all about it.Besides, the bills for your new furniture will show the exact date ofdelivery, and it was the same day."
Mrs. Hillmer's face was hidden by her veil, but she nodded silently.
Three people in the room knew the significance of Mensmore'sstraightforward words; he alone was unaware of the direction towardswhich the investigation now tended.
"Let us analyze the matter carefully," said Bruce, who had recovered hisself-possession, though he was almost terrified at the possibilities ofthe situation. "Did the whole of the contents of your drawing-room comefrom your sister's flat?"
"Every stick. There was nothing there before but the bare boards."
"Do you remember a handsome ornamental fender being among thesearticles?"
"Perfectly. My housekeeper said the men broke it during the transit.They denied this, and looked for the piece chipped off, but could notfind it. She told me about it that night."
"Did you mention it to Mrs. Hillmer?"
"No. To tell the honest truth, Gwen and I had quarrelled a couple ofdays before. That is to say, we disagreed seriously about a certainmatter, and it was this which led to my making off to Monte Carlo.Therefore it was hardly likely I should mention such a trivial matterto her."
"May I ask what you quarrelled about?"
"I have told her since that it ought to be made known, but she hasimplored me not to reveal it, so I cannot. But she will tell you herselfthat we agreed I should be at liberty to make this guarded explanation."
Bruce and the detective exchanged glances of wondering comprehension.
"I do not think we need question Mr. Mensmore further," said thebarrister to White.
"No," was the reply. "The matter is clear enough. Mrs. Hillmer must tellus how that furniture came to be transferred from her premises on themorning of the 7th."
"If she chooses."
The barrister's tone was sad, and its ominous significance was not loston his hearers.
Mrs. Hillmer raised her veil. Her face was deathly pale and tense in itsfixed agony. But in her eyes was a light which gave a curious aspect ofresolve to her otherwise painful aspect of utter grief.
"I do not choose," she said quietly, looking, not at Bruce or thedetective, but at her brother.
For a little while no one spoke. Mensmore at last broke out eagerly:
"Don't act absurdly, Gwen. I cannot even guess where all this talk aboutthe furniture is leading us, but I do know that you are as innocent ofany complicity in Lady Dyke's death as I am, so it is better for you tohelp forward the inquiry than to retard it."
"I am not innocent," said Mrs. Hillmer, her words falling with painfuldistinctness upon the ears of the three men. "Heaven help me! I amresponsible for it!"
Her brother started to his feet, and caught her by the shoulder.
"What folly is this," he cried. "Do you know what you are saying?"
"Fully. My words are like sledge-hammers. I will forever feel theirweight. I tell you I am responsible for the death of Lady Dyke."
"Then how did she die, Mrs. Hillmer?" said Bruce, whose glance sought toread her soul.
"I do not know. I do not want to know. It matters little to me."
"In other words, you are assuming a responsibility you should not bear.You were not even aware of this poor lady's death until I told you. Whyshould you seek to avert suspicion from others merely because Lady Dykeis shown to have met her death in your apartments?"
"But how is it shown?" interrupted Mensmore vehemently. He was moredisturbed by his sister's unaccountable attitude than he had ever beenby the serious charge against himself.
"Easily enough," said White, feeling that he ought to have some share inthe conversation. "A piece of the damaged fender placed in your rooms,Mr. Mensmore, was found in the murdered lady's head."
"Was it?" he cried. "Then, by Heaven, I refuse to see my sistersacrificed for anybody's sake. She has borne too long the whole burdenof misery and degradation. I tell you, Gwen, that if you do not saveyourself I will save you against your will. That furniture came to myroom because--"
"Bertie, I beseech you, for the sake of the woman you love, to spareme."
Mrs. Hillmer flung herself on her knees before him and caught hold ofhis hands, while she burst into a storm of tears.
Mensmore was unnerved. He turned to Bruce, and said:
"Help me in this miserable business, old chap. I don't know what to sayor do; my sister had no more connection with Lady Dyke's death than Ihad. This statement on her part is mere hysteria, arising from othercircumstances altogether."
"That I feel acutely," said the barrister. "Yet some one killed her,and, whatever the pain that may be caused, and whoever may suffer, I amdetermined that the truth shall come out."
"I tell you," wailed Mrs. Hillmer between her sobs, "that I must bearall the blame. Why do you hesitate? She was killed in my house, and Iconfess my guilt."
"This _is_ rum business," growled Mr. White aloud, half unconsciously.
At that moment the door opened unexpectedly, and Smith entered.
Before Bruce had time to vociferate an order to his astounded servitorthe man stuttered an excuse:
"Beg pardon, sir," he said, "but Sir Charles Dyke has called, and wantsto know if you will be disengaged soon."