The Mystery of the Clasped Hands: A Novel

  CHAPTER VII

  It would be impossible to picture, with any hope of success, the horrorwhich accompanied the ghastly discovery described at the end of theprevious chapter. Save for the cries of the ladies, who shrank from thebox and covered their faces with their hands, and a muttered ejaculationfrom Godfrey, some seconds elapsed before any one spoke. Fensden was thefirst to recover his presence of mind. Picking up the sheet of paperwhich had fallen to the ground, he covered the box with it, thusshutting out all sight of the dreadful things it contained.

  "Perhaps it would be as well, ladies, if you were to leave the room," hesaid. "Godfrey and I must talk this matter over, and consider how we areto act."

  "Come, mother," said Kitty, and she led the old lady in a semi-faintingcondition from the room, closely followed by Molly.

  When the door had closed behind them, Godfrey spoke for the first time.

  "Good Heavens, Victor!" he said. "What does this mean? Am I mad ordreaming?"

  "I fear it is no dream," replied the other. "Who could have done it? Isit a case of murder, or what? Did you recognise the--the hands?"

  Godfrey crossed to the chimney-piece and covered his face. A suspicion,so terrible that he dared not put it into words, was fast takingpossession of him.

  "Come, come," said Victor, crossing to him, and placing his hands uponhis shoulder, "we must look this matter squarely in the face. Be a man,and help me. The upshot may be even more serious than we suppose. Oncemore I ask you, did you recognise what you saw?"

  "I fear so," said Godfrey, very slowly, as if he were trying to forcehimself to speak. "There was a little scar, the result of a burn,half-an-inch or so above the knuckle of the second finger of the righthand."

  He had painted those beautiful hands too often not to remember thatscar. Without a word, he crossed to the table in the middle of the roomupon which the box stood, surrounded by the cases containing the otherwedding presents, and once more removing the lid and the paper,carefully examined what he saw there. No, God help him! there could beno sort of doubt about it; the hands were those of Teresina Cardi, hismodel and friend. When he had satisfied himself as to their identity, heclosed the box and turned to Fensden once more.

  "It is too horrible," he said; "but what does it mean? Why should themurderer have sent the hands to me in this dreadful way?"

  "That is what I have been asking myself," Fensden replied. "The man,whoever he was, must have borne you a fiendish grudge to have done sucha thing. Is there anything about the box that will afford a clew as tothe identity of the sender? Let us look."

  He examined the box carefully, but, beyond the printed name of the firmwho had originally used it, there was nothing that could serve as aclew. It had come by train from Euston, and had been sent off on theprevious evening. That for the present was all there was to know aboutit.

  "Once more, what are we to do?" inquired Fensden.

  "Communicate with the police," said Godfrey. "In the meantime, I think Iwill send a note to my future father-in-law, asking him to come over. Ishould like to have his help and support in the matter."

  "A very proper course," said his companion. "I don't think you could dobetter. I should send a man away at once."

  Accordingly Godfrey went to a writing-table in the corner of the room,and wrote the letter, then rang the bell, and bade the servant whoanswered it see that the note was despatched without delay. When the manhad disappeared, he turned to Fensden once more. "And now," he said, "Ithink it would be better if we removed the box to the studio."

  They did so, by way of the new conservatory, of which mention has beenmade elsewhere. Then, in something less than an hour, Godfrey's futurefather-in-law arrived. Godfrey received him in his studio, andintroduced Fensden to him as an old friend.

  "It is very good of you to come so quickly, Sir Vivian," he said,motioning him to a chair. "I took the liberty of sending for you becauseI want your advice in a very serious matter. How serious it is you willunderstand when you have heard what we have to tell you. We have had aterrible experience, and I am not quite sure that I am capable oflooking at the matter in a temperate light at present."

  "You alarm me, my dear boy," said the old gentleman. "What can havehappened? Tell me everything, and let me see if I can help you."

  "If I am to do that, I must tell you a story. It will simplify matters,and it won't take very long. As you are aware, before my uncle's death,I might have been described as a struggling artist. I was painting mybiggest work at that time, and was most anxious to find a model for thecentral figure. I had hunted London over, but without success, when Mr.Fensden here happened to discover an Italian model whom he thought mightbe of use to me. I saw her, and immediately secured her services. Incompany with her mother, she had been in England for some little time,and was glad to accept my offer of employment. When the picture wasfinished and hung, I still retained her services, because I liked thegirl and found her useful to me in some other work I had on hand. Thenmy uncle died, and I came into the estate. Mr. Fensden and I immediatelyagreed to travel, and we accordingly set off together for Egypt and theEast, intending to be away about a year. At the same time, it must beborne in mind, the girl and her mother had returned to Italy. While wewere at Luxor, I received a letter from her, forwarding me her addressin Naples, in case I might desire to communicate with her concerningfuture work. Some three weeks later my mother was taken ill, and I wastelegraphed for to come home at once. I left Port Said in a mailsteamer, intending to take the overland express from Naples to England.Having some hours to spend in the latter city, I thought there could beno harm in my discovering the mother and daughter. I did so, we dinedtogether at a small restaurant, and went on to the Opera afterward."

  "You did not tell me that," said Fensden, quickly.

  "I did not deem it necessary," said Godfrey. "I should have done so whenwe came to discuss the matter at greater length. But to continue mystory. After the Opera I escorted them back to their dwelling, but I didnot enter. On my way to my hotel afterward, I was nearly stabbed by alover of my former model, a man, so she had informed me, who wasextremely jealous of any one who spoke to her. Fortunately for me, hedid not succeed in his attempt. I knocked him down, and took his daggerfrom him."

  As he said this, he took the small poniard, with which the Italian hadattempted his life, from a drawer, and handed it to the old gentleman.

  "Next morning I left Naples, to find, on reaching England, that mymother was decidedly better, and I need not have abandoned my tour. ThenI met your daughter, fell in love with her, and in due course ourengagement was announced. From the moment I said good-bye to her inNaples, until last Thursday night, I had neither seen nor heard anythingof or from my former model."

  "You saw her on Thursday night?" repeated the old gentleman. "In thatcase she must have returned to England?"

  "Yes," Godfrey replied. "It was after the theatre, and when I had seenLady Devereux and Molly to their carriage. I was walking down the Strandin search of a cab to take me back to my hotel, when I met her. Sherecognised me at once, and informed me that her mother was dead, thatshe had married, she did not say whom, and that her husband was alsodead. Though she seemed in great distress, for reasons of her own shewould not let me help her. Feeling that she ought not to be in thestreets at such an hour, I took a cab and drove her to her home, whichwas a house in a narrow street leading out of the Tottenham Court Road.I bade her good-bye on the pavement, and having once more vainlyendeavoured to induce her to let me help her, walked back to my hotel."

  As he said this, he crossed to the table on which the box had beenplaced, and once more removed the lid and paper.

  "A number of wedding presents have arrived to-day," he continued, "andthis box came with them. We opened it, and you may see for yourself whatit contained."

  Sir Vivian approached the table and looked into the box, only to startback with an exclamation of horror. His usually rubicund face turnedashen gray.

  "My dear boy, this is mor
e terrible than I supposed!" he gasped. "Whatdoes it mean?"

  "I am afraid that it means murder," said Godfrey, very quietly. "My poorlittle Italian friend has been brutally murdered, by whom we have yet todiscover. But why these hands of hers should have been sent to me, I cannot for the life of me understand."

  "Are you sure they are her hands?"

  "Quite sure. There can be no doubt about it. Both Fensden and Irecognised them at once."

  "One thing is certain: the man who committed this dreadful deed musthave been jealous of you, and have heard of your kindness to the girl.Is there any one you suspect?"

  "I have it," said Fensden, suddenly, before Godfrey could answer. "Theman in Naples, the lover who tried to assassinate you. He is the man, orI am much mistaken. We have the best of reasons for knowing that he wasin love with her, and that he would not be likely to stop at murder. Ifhe would have killed you, why should he not have killed her? You told meupstairs, when we were speaking of her distress, that the street wasoccupied by foreigners; what is more likely, therefore, than that heshould have lived there too? Possibly, and very probably, he was herhusband."

  "But she told me her husband was dead," Godfrey asserted.

  "She may have had some reason for saying so," Fensden replied. "Thereare a hundred theories to account for her words. It is as likely as notthat she did not want you to see him. He is a Neapolitan. For all weknow to the contrary he may be an Anarchist, and in hiding. She mighthave been afraid that if you saw him it would lead to his arrest."

  "There certainly seems a good deal of probability in Mr. Fensden'stheory," said Sir Vivian; "but the best course for you to adopt appearsclear to me. You must at once communicate with the police and causeinquiries to be made. I have seen no mention in the papers of a woman'sbody having been found under such circumstances. The discovery of a bodyso mutilated would have been certain to have attracted a considerableamount of public attention."

  "I think you are right," said Godfrey, after a moment's hesitation. "Inthe meantime what are we to do with these poor relics?"

  "They must be handed over to the police," said Sir Vivian. "It is onlythrough them that we can hope to unravel the mystery. If I were you Ishould send for the head constable at once and give them into hischarge." Then he added kindly: "I can not tell you how sorry I am,Godfrey, for your trouble. It must be a terrible blow to you."

  "No one can tell what a blow it is, Sir Vivian," said Godfrey in a huskyvoice. "A more cruel murder has never stained the annals of crime. Thegirl was an honest, kindly creature, and that she should have met herdeath in this manner shocks me inexpressibly. If any reward can securethe arrest of the murderer I will gladly pay it. No effort on my partshall be wanting to bring him to justice."

  "You may be sure that he is a cunning fellow," said Fensden, "and thathis plans were deeply laid. For my own part, if I were you I shouldplace it in the hands of Scotland Yard and patiently await the result.You may be quite sure that they will do all in their power, and if theycan not bring about his arrest, nobody else will be able to do so."

  "Even if they do not succeed in capturing him I should not abandon thesearch," said Godfrey. "Poor little Teresina shall not go unavenged.There must be several private detectives in London who know theirbusiness almost as well as the officials of Scotland Yard. I will findthe cleverest of them and put them on the trail without delay. If apromise of a thousand pounds can stimulate him to greater exertions itshall be paid."

  "You will be only throwing your money away," said Fensden. "He will bepaid by the hour, with expenses, and he will fool you with bogus clewsfrom first to last."

  "I must risk that," Godfrey replied.

  A message was thereupon despatched to the head of the localconstabulary, who very soon put in an appearance at the Hall. He was alittle man, with a pompous manner and a great idea of his ownimportance. It appeared to be his opinion that Detwich was the centre ofcivilization, and he the custodian of its peace and safety. On hisarrival he was shown into the studio, where he found the three gentlemenwaiting for him. He saluted Sir Vivian with the deepest servility,Godfrey respectfully, and Victor Fensden good-naturedly, as if thelatter, not being a landowner in the district, was not entitled toanything more than a nod.

  "We have sent for you, Griffin," said Sir Vivian, "in order to informyou that a serious crime has been committed, not in this neighbourhood,but in London."

  "A good many serious crimes happen there every day, Sir Vivian,"remarked the official. "May I ask the nature of this particular one?"

  "Nothing short of murder!" Sir Vivian replied; "and as Mr. Hendersonhere has been brought into it we have adopted the course of sending foryou at once in order that you may acquaint the proper authorities."

  "A very proper proceeding, sir, I have no doubt," said the officer,diving his hand into his pocket and producing a pencil and an enormouspocket-book. "I shall be glad, sir, if you will give me theparticulars."

  For the third time that afternoon Godfrey told his story, while theofficer made notes. By the time the contents of the box were shown tohim the man's interest was thoroughly aroused. It had always been hisambition to be mixed up in some big affair, and now his chance had come.That being so, he was resolved to make the most of it.

  "There can be no doubt, sir," he said, addressing Sir Vivian, "that itis likely to be a very serious matter. So far as I can understand, thedisappearance of the woman has not been noticed, nor has her body beendiscovered. I will report the facts of the case to Scotland Yard atonce, and in the meantime I will take possession of this box and itscontents. So far as I can see at present it doesn't look as if it shouldbe very difficult to lay our hands upon the murderer."

  "In that case, I suppose your opinion tallies with ours," said Fensden,who had just started another cigarette. "You suspect the Neapolitanlover."

  "I do, sir," the man replied with dignity, as if his suspicions were notthings to be treated lightly. "I only wish I had the conducting of thiscase throughout. But, there, I suppose it will go elsewhere and otherswill get the credit of the job. There is nothing else you wish to see meabout, I suppose, gentlemen?"

  "I think not," said Godfrey. "But I should be glad if you would let usknow all that goes on. As I have told you, the poor girl was an oldfriend, and her cruel death is naturally a great blow to me."

  "I will let you know as soon as I hear anything," the man replied. "Ishall telegraph to Scotland Yard as soon as I get back to the station,and I expect they will be on the move within the hour. Let me see that Ihave got the name and address right, sir. Teresina Cardi, No. 16,Burford Street, Tottenham Court Road. That is correct, I suppose?"

  "Quite correct," said Godfrey. "It is a tall house and there is alamp-post exactly opposite the door."

  These additional facts having been duly noted, the officer was about towithdraw, when the butler entered with the evening papers. He handedthem to his master, who made as though he would place them on one side,as being irrelevant to the matter at issue, when Sir Vivian stopped him.

  "One moment," he said. "Before you go, Griffin, let us make sure thatthere is no reference in the evening papers to the crime. Will you look,or shall I?"

  In answer Godfrey opened the first paper. It was as well that he did so,for on the middle page was this announcement in large type:

  TERRIBLE MURDER OF A GIRL!

  REVOLTING DETAILS!

  "I thought as much," said the police officer in a tone of bitterdisappointment. "Just my luck again. I was in hopes of being able to putthem on the scent, but it seems that they have found it out without me.Might I be so bold, sir, as to ask what it says?"

  "I will read the account," said Godfrey.

  "At an early hour this morning it was reported to the authorities atScotland Yard that a murder of an unusual nature had been committed inthe vicinity of the Tottenham Court Road. The victim is an Italianwoman, known as Teresina Cardi, an artist's model, who, it is stated,has been living in the house in Burford Street, in which he
r body wasdiscovered, for upward of a fortnight. It might be mentioned that thehouse is let out in flats, the occupants being in the main of foreignnationality. The girl herself was of a reserved disposition, and did notassociate with the other tenants of the building. She was last seenalive at seven o'clock on the evening of Thursday, when she was observeddescending the stairs dressed for going out. The hour of her return isnot known, nor was her absence remarked on Friday. Early on Saturdaymorning, however, the occupant of a neighbouring room, a Germancabinet-maker, named Otto Grunther, noticed a small stream of dark-redfluid under the door. His suspicions being aroused, he informed theowner of the house of what he had seen, who called in the assistance ofthe policeman on the beat. Together they ascended to the room inquestion to find that the door was securely locked. Their knocks havingelicited no response, a key was obtained and the door opened. Onentering the room it was discovered that the woman was lying dead uponthe floor between the table and the door. Her throat was cut and shehad been stabbed in several places. More horrible still, her hands hadbeen severed at the wrists and were missing. Though the police arenaturally reticent as to the matter, we are led to believe that theyhave not succeeded in finding a clew. Needless to say the revoltingcrime has caused a great sensation in the neighbourhood."

  "Later News.--Up to the moment of going to press, the most diligentinquiries have been made by our own representatives as to the identityof the murdered woman. Teresina Cardi, it would appear, sat as a modelfor the central figure in Mr. Godfrey Henderson's famous picture 'AWoman of the People,' which attracted so much attention in the RoyalAcademy Exhibition of last year. She was a Neapolitan by birth, but hasspent a considerable time in this country. It has also come to lightthat on the evening in question she returned home shortly after midnightand was seen talking to a gentleman in evening dress on the pavement infront of the house.

  "The police hope very shortly to be able to discover the identity ofthis mysterious individual, when doubtless further light will be thrownupon the tragedy."

  "Good Heavens!" said Godfrey. "They surely don't think that I knowanything more about it than I have said?"

  "You must set the matter right without delay," said Sir Vivian. "Does itsay when the inquest will be held?"

  "On Monday," Godfrey replied, after he had once more consulted thepaper.

  "Then you had better communicate with the coroner at once, telling himthat you are the person referred to, and offering him all theinformation it is in your power to give. You owe it to yourself, as wellas the community at large, to do this at once."

  "I will do so to-night," Godfrey replied. "In the meantime, Griffin, youwill communicate with Scotland Yard yourself and tell them what we havediscovered. The man who murdered her must have seen us together thatnight, and in the madness of his jealousy have sent the evidence of hiscrime on to me."

  When he had wrapped up the horrible box the police officer took hisdeparture, leaving the others to discuss the matter and to endeavour tocome to some understanding about it. At last, when there was nothingfurther to be said, Godfrey proposed that they should go in search ofthe ladies. He had scarcely opened the door of the studio, however, whenthere was the sound of a heavy fall. Turning round, he discovered thatVictor Fensden had fallen in a dead faint upon the floor.