The Crime and the Criminal

  CHAPTER XXXIV.

  MR. HOLMAN AT HOME.

  But they looked for her in vain. They did not find her. And thefollowing night Mr. Holman was in the bosom of his family.

  Mr. Holman's home was in a street off Leicester Square. His familyconsisted of his wife. Of her he was wont to make a confidant, as hedid on the present occasion.

  Mr. Holman had come up by an afternoon train from Lewes. Mrs. Holmanhad prepared a meat tea for him on his arrival. He had commenced hisattack upon the viands before she began to question him.

  "So they're going to hang him?"

  "It would seem as though they were."

  Mrs. Holman detected something in her husband's tone.

  "What do you mean? Aren't they going to hang him?"

  "Did I say they weren't going to hang him? Didn't I say it seems asthough they were. Don't you understand Queen's English?"

  Mrs. Holman was silent for a second or two.

  "Surely they're not getting up a petition to let him off?"

  "I've heard nothing at all about it, if they are. But perhaps you'veheard more than me. You do sometimes, don't you?"

  "You don't mean to say that you don't believe he did it. I thought youwere sure that he was guilty."

  "I've been sure of a good many things in my time, and been sorry for itafterwards. I'm not the only leather-headed fool there is about, asperhaps you know."

  Mrs. Holman was skilled in the inflections of her husband's voice. Sheperceived that it would be wiser, temporarily, to keep her curiosity inher pocket, and to allow him to finish his meal in peace, which she didand obtained her reward.

  When the lady's lord and master had eaten and drunk to his heart'scontent he wiped his lips and he looked at his wife.

  "What do you think he says?"

  "I haven't the least idea."

  "He says that the woman who was found is not the woman who was with himin the train."

  "A man like him would say anything."

  "How clever you women are. You know everything. As it happens, it seemsto me that he's just the sort of man who would not say anything, and Iought to be a pretty good judge of that kind of thing if any one is."Mr. Holman was regarding the two portraits which he had submitted toMr. Tennant for inspection. "I don't half like it. I can swear thatthis is a good likeness of the woman that was found. He says that it'snot the least like the woman who was with him in the train.

  "Fiddlededee!"

  "Of course it's fiddlededee. And if he was hung, and it came outafterwards that what he said was true, it would look like fiddlededee,wouldn't it? I should feel as if I'd murdered him."

  "Matthew!"

  "Somehow the tale which he tells sounds true, and the queer part of itis that he says that the woman whom he travelled with in the train fromBrighton was actually present in the court during the trial."

  "It isn't possible."

  "Oh, dear no! Of course not. If you say so, it couldn't be. It seemsfunny though that the governor should be of a different opinion."

  "What governor?"

  "What governor! The governor of Lewes gaol--stupid! Considering howclever you set yourself up to be, it's queer what a lot of explanationyou seem to want. The governor noticed this woman of whom Tennantspeaks, and something about her goings-on struck him as being queer.I've been looking for her in Lewes all this blessed day. She's notthere. But I'll find her if she's anywhere. I'm not going to have a manhung for a woman that's alive if I can help it. I'm going to make myreport in the morning, and if I'm not told off to hunt her up I'll besurprised."

  A ring was heard.

  "Go and see what idiot that is ringing the bell. If it's any one to seeme let me know who it is before you show him in."

  Mrs. Holman went to see what idiot it was. She returned and reported.

  "It's that American who has lost his daughter, Mr. Haines his name is."

  "Confound Mr. Haines! What's he come humbugging about? Show him in.I'll make short work of Mr. Haines."

  Mr. Haines was shown in, tall and thin, Yankee writ large all over him.Uninvited, he seated himself. He crossed his legs. He balanced his hatupon his knees. He looked at Mr. Holman without speaking a word. Mr.Holman, without any show of deference, looked back at him, nor was hismanner when he spoke marked by a superfluity of courtesy.

  For some moments the silence remained unbroken--a fact which seemed toarouse the detective's irascibility.

  "Is that all you have to say? If so, perhaps you will excuse me. Mytime happens to be of value."

  Mr. Haines opened his lips.

  "That creature has buncoed me again."

  "What creature?"

  "Private detective Stewart Trevannion."

  "When a man calls himself a private detective, nine times out of tenyon may safely write him down a scoundrel. The tenth time, perhaps, heis something worse."

  "A scoundrel. That's what he is. And next time we chance to meet I'llwrite the thing on him in good bold letters in my very plainest hand.He raised another fifty out of me. He undertook to place me incommunication with my girl if I let him have it. He has placed me incommunication neither with my girl nor with himself since he raisedthat fifty."

  Mr. Holman leaned against the side of the table on which he had justbeen having tea. He regarded his visitor with something like a twinklein his eye.

  "Governor, do you mind my speaking a little plainly?"

  "I do not."

  "Take my tip, book a berth in the next boat, and go back where you camefrom. You'll be more at home like over there."

  "Not till I have looked upon her grave if she is dead, or on her faceif she is living."

  "Ah, then, I shouldn't be surprised if you were to stay this side sometime. You'll settle here."

  "Aren't the resources of civilisation sufficient to enable me to findmy girl?"

  "The resources of civilisation aren't interested. You drove her away,it's for you to fetch her back again. What it strikes me is that shedon't want to come, and she don't mean to, either."

  "She is dead."

  "How are you going to prove it?"

  "I want you to help me."

  "How am I going to help you any more than I have done? I'm a publicservant. I receive instructions from my superiors, and I have to obeythem. How am I going to devote myself to you? I don't know what good Ishould do if I could. Thousands of girls are missing; they leave homebecause they're sick of it, and they set up on their own hook. How doyou think you're going to find 'em if they don't mean to be found? Itmay be easy in the stories, but it isn't out of them."

  Rising from his chair, Mr. Haines paced slowly across the room. Mr.Holman watched him. He noticed his air of extreme depression.

  "You do as I say, take my tip, and go back by the next ship. You'll beable to look for her as well there as over here--yes, and better. Yousay she knows what address will find you. You'll hear from her safeenough when she's had about enough of it.

  "Not me."

  "How can you tell that."

  "Because she's dead."

  Mr. Holman moved from the table with a gesture of impatience. Notimpossibly he would have terminated the interview then and there. Helooked as if language of even unusual strength was trembling on hislips. He was prevented, however, from giving it utterance by theunannounced entrance of a second visitor.

  The visitor was in the shape of a girl--a young girl. She was pretty,with a prettiness which more than suggested the theatre. She had anamazing array of short, fair hair. It shrined her face like a sort ofcoronal. The big hat was perched on the top of her hair. There was ahint of kohl about her pretty eyes. And though her plump cheeks wereclean enough and tempting enough just then, one could have sworn thatthey had long been familiar with rouge.

  She came into the room with a complete absence of ceremony, as if shewas perfectly at home.

  "Well, uncle, so you're back again."

  Mr. Holman looked her up and down without say
ing a word. Plantingherself right in front of him she clasped her hands behind herback--impudently demure. "You can look at me."

  "So you have dyed your hair."

  "I have."

  "And cut it off."

  "And cut it off."

  "And fluffed it?"

  "Fluffed it? Crimped it, I suppose you mean. My dear uncle, if anybodyoffered to double your salary on condition that you dyed your hair,you'd dye it all the colours of the rainbow." Mr. Holman turned away."Aren't you going to kiss me? You'd not only dye, you'd give your hairto kiss me if you weren't my uncle. How nice it is to have relations!"

  Mrs. Holman appeared at the door.

  "Never mind him, Hetty. He's come back in a bad temper."

  "Of course he's come back in a bad temper. Did you ever know him whenhe hadn't come back in a bad temper? He's the worst-tempered man I everknew, and that's saying something."

  Mr. Holman seated himself in an arm-chair by the fire. The young ladysat on one of the arms. She smoothed her uncle's hair.

  "Dear uncle, how well you're looking."

  Mr. Holman shook his head, as if to remove it from the reach of herembrace.

  "Don't touch me."

  "And what a nice, kind look you've got in your eyes."

  "Hetty, I'm ashamed of you."

  "Oh, no, you're not. You're not half such a goose as you pretend tobe."

  "I tell you that I am."

  "You're what? A goose. Dear uncle, I would never let any one call you agoose except yourself. Won't you kiss me?"

  The fair young face stooped down. The man's weather-beaten face lookedup. The lips met.

  The kiss was interrupted by a series of exclamations which came fromthe back of the room. So unexpected and so startling a series ofexclamations that Mr. Holman rose from his chair with such suddennessas almost to overturn his niece.

  "What's up now?" he asked.

  A good deal seemed to be up, at any rate with Mr. Haines. Thatgentleman was standing on the other side of the table staring atsomething which he was holding in his hand, giving vent to a variety ofobservations which were scarcely parliamentary.

  "It's Loo! Blamed if it ain't! It's my girl! It's Loo!"

  Throwing down what he was holding, he rushed at the detective like somewild animal.

  "Damn you!" he yelled. "It's Loo!"