Samuel Boyd of Catchpole Square: A Mystery

  CHAPTER XXXVI.

  THE CONTINUATION OF THE INQUEST.

  These words, spoken loudly and emphatically, acted like a spark upongunpowder, and it was not until the Coroner threatened several timesto clear the Court that order was again restored. From Lady Whartonthe attention of the audience was turned to Reginald, whose head wasbowed in shame. Some pitied him, some condemned him, and all werefeverishly curious to hear the outcome of Lady Wharton's disclosures.The only crumb of comfort Reginald received was expressed in the closeclasp of Florence's hand. Fearlessly and indignantly the young girlfaced the eyes that were directed towards her and her husband; hercheeks were flushed, her lips parted, as though crying shame uponthose who seemed to be mutely accusing the man she loved. Dick lookedcontemptuously upon these silent accusers, and Aunt Rob glared atthem; it was with some difficulty that Uncle Rob prevented her fromaddressing Lady Wharton in terms of indignant reproach. "Keep still,mother, keep still," he whispered, "you will only make matters worse."So she held her tongue, and nursed her wrath in bitterness of spirit.During the course of this drama of human passion and emotion Mr.Finnis, Q.C., rose and addressed the Court.

  "Lady Wharton," he said, "has suffered a grievous wrong, and howeverstrongly she may express herself, it cannot for one moment be doubtedthat she is speaking what she believes to be the truth. An endeavourhas been made to prove that Mr. Samuel Boyd was murdered on the Fridayor Saturday night of the week before last. We do not impeach thewitnesses, we do not say that they have spoken from interestedmotives. What we do say is that they are in error. That Mr. SamuelBoyd did not meet his death at the time mentioned is proved by thefact that Lady Wharton saw and conversed with him five or six daysafterwards. Her testimony is supported by that of her brother, LordFairfax, who is now in Court, and who also saw and conversed with him.As you may gather from her evidence we go farther than that; we saythat Mr. Samuel Boyd has not been murdered. Her ladyship, as you willpresently learn, has had, unfortunately for herself, some businesstransactions with Mr. Samuel Boyd, and in view of the strange mysterywhich surrounds the case, I have advised her to make thesetransactions public. I ask you now, Mr. Coroner, to permit her torelate her story with as little interruption from yourself aspossible; and I would also ask Lady Wharton to control her feelings,and to refrain from strong language. There are persons in Courtrelated to Mr. Samuel Boyd, to whom such epithets as she has appliedto him must be extremely painful."

  The Coroner: "The extraordinary turn this inquiry has taken renders itimperatively necessary that a full disclosure be made of all that haspassed between Lady Wharton and Mr. Samuel Boyd. Now, if your ladyshippleases."

  Lady Wharton: "And kindly do not interrupt me. I have mentioned that Ipaid Mr. Samuel Boyd a visit on the evening of Friday, the 1st ofMarch. On that occasion I gave him bills for a considerable amount inrenewal of bills shortly to fall due, and I foolishly forgot to askhim for the return of the old bills. In the course of the interview Irequested him--(it is perfectly abominable that I should be compelledto speak of it, but I suppose it cannot be prevented)--I requested himto advance me a thousand pounds for my personal use, quite apart fromthe business between him and Lord Wharton. With some idea of thecharacter of the man I was dealing with, I had brought with me assecurity for the loan certain articles of jewellery of great value,for which I had no immediate use, and which I handed over to him.After inspecting them he consented to advance the money, but said hecould not let me have it immediately--which, of course, was a trickand subterfuge. I told him that I was going out of town, to our placein Bournemouth, and he said he would bring the sum to me there onThursday night--last Thursday, you know--in bank notes. With thatunderstanding I left him. Two days afterwards it was brought to myrecollection that Mr. Boyd had not returned the old bills, and I wroteto him about them. At the same time I mentioned that I needed a muchlarger sum for my private personal use than we had arranged for, and Irequested him to bring AL1,500, promising to give him further securityin the shape of additional jewels, for there is only one way ofdealing with these Shylocks: they _must_ have their pound of flesh. Hereplied that he would bring the money and the old bills on Thursdaynight. We were giving a ball on that night, and as I did not wish sucha person to mix with our guests I decided to finish the business withhim in a retired part of the grounds, and I instructed my servants tothat effect. He had the assurance not to present himself till one inthe morning, when a servant brought me his card. I went to the spot Ihad appointed, and there I saw Mr. Samuel Boyd. I asked him if he hadbrought the money; he answered that he had, and he produced a smallpacket, which he declined to part with till I gave him the additionaljewels I had promised as security. The scoundrel assumed an air ofsaucy independence which completely deceived me. The jewels were in thehouse, and Lord Fairfax happening to be passing at that moment Icalled to him and requested him to remain with Mr. Boyd while I wentto fetch them. When I returned I gave them to Mr. Boyd, who thenhanded me the packet, saying that it contained the AL1,500 in banknotes and the old bills. As I could not count the money in the groundsI went to the house again, accompanied by Lord Fairfax, and openingthe packet, discovered that I had been robbed. There were no billsinside, and no money, nothing but blank paper cunningly folded to makeit feel like bank notes. I hurried back, with the intention of givingthe thief into custody, but though search was made for him in everydirection he was not to be found. I want to know what has become ofhim and of my property."

  The Coroner: "This is a strange story, Lady Wharton, and is in directconflict with the evidence that has been tendered."

  Lady Wharton: "The evidence that has been tendered is in directconflict with the facts of the case. In all my life I have never heardsuch a tissue of misrepresentations and delusions."

  "May you not yourself be labouring under a delusion?"

  "You had better say at once that I am not in my right senses."

  "Pray do not speak so excitedly. May you not have been deceived by anaccidental likeness to Mr. Samuel Boyd in the person who presentedhimself?"

  "It is an absurd suggestion. There is no possibility of my having beenmistaken. I tell you it was the man himself."

  The Coroner: "Did you keep a copy of the letter you wrote to Mr.Boyd?"

  Lady Wharton: "I am not in the habit of keeping copies of my letters.I leave that to tradesmen."

  "Have you the letter you received from him?"

  "I have brought it with me."

  Lady Wharton handed the letter to the Coroner, who read it aloud:

  "Mr. Samuel Boyd presents his compliments to Lady Wharton, and willhave the pleasure of waiting upon her ladyship on Thursday night withthe bills which he forgot to return last Friday evening, and with theadditional advance her ladyship requires. Mr. Boyd hopes that herladyship will be prepared with the jewels she speaks of, and that theywill be adequate security for the increase in the loan.

  "Catchpole Square, N., 5th March, 1896."

  Lady Wharton: "And people come here and swear that at the time the manwrote that letter he had been dead five days! Can anything be morepreposterous?"

  The Coroner: "We shall have witnesses before us who are familiar withMr. Boyd's handwriting, and this letter will be submitted to them.Have you the visiting card Mr. Boyd gave your servant in Bournemouth?"

  "Here it is."

  "Could you identify the jewels?"

  "I can swear to them, if they are fortunately recovered."

  "That is all I have to ask you at present, Lady Wharton. If LordFairfax is present perhaps he will come forward."

  Lord Fairfax (advancing from the body of the Court): "No objection."

  "You have heard the account given by Lady Wharton of the visit of aperson last Thursday night who announced himself as Mr. Samuel Boyd?"

  "Quite true."

  "You saw that person?"

  "Yes."

  "Have you had any dealings with Mr. Boyd?"

  "Happy to say, no."

/>   "Then you are not acquainted with him?"

  "Not the pleasure."

  "Then you cannot say it was Mr. Boyd."

  "Take Lady Wharton's word for it. Her ladyship presented him. Shesaid, 'Mr. Samuel Boyd, Catchpole Square.' I said, 'Ah.'"

  "You conversed with him?"

  "He conversed with me. Fifty words to my one."

  "What was the subject of the conversation?"

  "Money. Asked if I wanted it. I said every fellow wanted it. Said hewould be happy to oblige. I said, 'Ah.'"

  "When Lady Wharton returned did you remain with them?"

  "At her request. Saw her give him jewels. Saw him give her packet. Sawher dismiss him. Glad to be rid of fellow."

  "You went back to the house, and was present when she opened thepacket?"

  "Yes. Blank paper. Infernal scoundrel."

  "Was information given to the police?"

  "Wanted to. Lady Wharton said no, go to lawyer. Went to Mr. FinnisSaturday. Then, surprising report in papers. Man murdered, or supposedto be."

  "That is all you know, Lord Fairfax?"

  "All I know."

  The Coroner (to the jury): "Before we call Mr. Reginald Boyd I wish toask Mr. Richard Remington a question or two, arising out of LadyWharton's evidence."

  The profound amazement with which Dick had listened to this evidencewas not reflected in his countenance as he stepped airily forward.Never in his life had he so strongly felt the need for dissimulationas at the present time. It was forced upon him--by the discoveries hehad himself made and by the testimony of the witnesses who had beenexamined--that in this mystery another agency was at work theexistence of which he had hitherto only dimly suspected. The personwho had presented himself to Lady Wharton as Samuel Boyd and hadcommitted the fraud upon her must have been intimately familiar withthe business operations of the murdered man, and must have had freeaccess to the house in Catchpole Square. He must also have a talentfor disguise to have so imposed upon Lady Wharton. He could think ofbut one person who had the knowledge requisite to carry out thedeception--Abel Death. But to do what Lady Wharton had describedneeded courage, coolness, skill, and an evenly balanced brain; nonebut a master of resource, and one who had perfect command overhimself, could have brought to a successful issue a task so difficult.Dick could hardly believe that Abel Death was equal to a man[oe]uvreso daring, a scheme so full of peril, in which a single false stepwould bring destruction upon him. Dick felt as if every hour added anew mystery to those that lay unsolved. He had one cause for deepgratitude, and he gladly welcomed it. These disclosures helped todispel the cloud of suspicion that hung over Reginald. Whatever elsehe might have done, he could have had no personal part in theduplicity and in the robbery of the jewels. How far this would help toclear him in the minds of others who might suspect him had yet to beseen. They might argue that he was in league with another man, andthat the imposition practised upon Lady Wharton was part of acunningly laid scheme, all the details of which had been carefullyconsidered and mapped out beforehand. There was, indeed, but littlelight in the cloud that hung over Florence's husband.

  This was the state of Dick's mind when he submitted himself for thethird time to the Coroner.

  The Coroner: "Since you were examined on Monday, have you continuedyour search in Mr. Samuel Boyd's house?"

  Dick: "Yes, I have carefully searched every room, every cupboard,every drawer."

  "Have you found any jewels?"

  "None."

  "Any bills of acceptance?"

  "None."

  "Nothing of any value?"

  "Nothing."

  "Look at this visiting card which was presented to Lady Wharton onThursday night in Bournemouth. Do you recognise it as one of Mr.Samuel Boyd's regular visiting cards?"

  "It is exactly like. There are thirty or forty similar cards in adrawer in the writing table."

  "You are doubtless familiar with Mr. Boyd's handwriting?"

  "I was very familiar with it, but that is some time ago. I may err inmy recollection of it."

  "So far as your recollection serves is this letter received by LadyWharton on the 6th of March, and dated the 5th, in his writing?"

  "It cannot be his writing because on the 5th of March he was dead."

  "Confine yourself strictly to answering the questions put to you.Should you say it was in Mr. Samuel Boyd's handwriting?"

  Dick examined the letter with great care. He had in his pocket at thatvery moment proof positive in the shape of the incriminating documentwritten by Samuel Boyd only a few hours before he was murdered, theproduction of which would have caused Reginald's instant arrest. Thewriting on the letter was like it, and he would have given much to beable to compare them. After a long pause he said, "It looks like hiswriting, but I am not an expert in caligraphy."

  The Coroner made a gesture as if he had exhausted his questions, andDick was about to step back, when the Juror interposed.

  The Juror: "Have you found a pistol of any kind in the house?"

  "Now, who is prompting you?" thought Dick, as he confronted the Juror,a sallow-faced, pock-marked man, with an aggressive voice. "No," heanswered aloud, "I found no pistol."

  The Juror: "The detective officer who has been examined spoke of arecently fired bullet which he extracted from the wall of the office.How is it that in your evidence on Monday you said nothing of thisbullet?"

  Dick: "In the first place, because I was not asked. In the secondplace, because on Monday nothing was known about it."

  There was a titter in Court at this, and the juror flushed up and wassilent.

  The Coroner: "When was the bullet found?"

  Dick: "Yesterday."

  "It had escaped your notice before the detective officer pointed itout?"

  "It was I who first pointed it out. We were examining the walltogether when I said, 'What is this?' My question led to the discoveryof the bullet."

  The Coroner: "Call Mr. Reginald Boyd."

  A firm pressure of Florence's hand, and Reginald faced the jury. Dickmoved a little nearer to the young wife, whose heart was throbbingviolently. Reginald was very pale, and traces of the sickness he hadpassed through were visible in his face, though he bore himself withcomposure.

  The Coroner: "You have been ill, and probably would like to beseated."

  Reginald: "Thank you, Mr. Coroner, I prefer to stand."

  "As you please. We understand that you went to your father's house inCatchpole Square to see the body of the deceased?"

  "Yes, I went there on Sunday."

  "You saw the body?"

  "Yes."

  "And identified it?"

  "Yes. It was my father's body."

  "In the teeth of the conflicting evidence that has been given, you arepositive?"

  "I am positive. I wish with all my heart and soul that there was roomfor doubt."

  "We recognise that your position is a painful one, and we should, ofcourse, wish to hear all the evidence it is in your power to give, butI consider it right to say that you are not compelled to answer everyquestion put to you."

  "There is no question that I shall decline to answer. I am a willingwitness in a most unhappy tragedy."

  "When did you last see your father alive?"

  "On Friday the 1st of March."

  "Before that day were you in the habit of visiting him regularly?"

  "Before that day I had not seen him for two years. I regret to say wewere not on friendly terms."

  The Juror: "What was the cause of the disagreement between you?"

  The Coroner: "We cannot have that at this point of the inquiry."

  The Juror: "The witness states that there is no question that he willdecline to answer, and the inquiry will be incomplete unless we arriveat all the facts of the case."

  Reginald: "I am willing to answer everything."

  The Coroner: "We will proceed in something like order. The last timeyou saw your father alive was on Friday the 1st of March. Did theinterview take place in his hous
e in Catchpole Square?"

  "Yes, on that day I paid two visits to the house, the first in theafternoon, the second at night."

  The Juror: "How did you obtain admittance in the afternoon?"

  The Coroner (to the Juror): "I must request you not to make thesefrequent interruptions; they tend to confuse the issue."

  The Juror: "With all due respect, sir, it is the jury who have toreturn the verdict"----

  The Coroner: "Under my guidance and direction."

  The Juror: "Not entirely. We are not simply machines. You can adviseus, and clear up knotty points, but you cannot dictate to us.Otherwise you might as well hold this inquiry without our aid. Thequestion I put to the witness is a very simple one."

  The Coroner: "Very well." (To Reginald.) "Did you obtain admissioninto your father's house on Friday afternoon in the usual way?"

  Reginald: "No. I knocked at the door two or three times, and receivingno answer, admitted myself with a private latchkey I had in mypocket."

  The Juror: "You see, Mr. Coroner, I had an object in asking thequestion."

  The Coroner: "How did you become possessed of the latchkey?"

  Reginald: "It was one I used when I lived in Catchpole Square with myfather. When I left the home I took it with me."

  "Having let yourself in, what then did you do?"

  "I went upstairs to the office in the expectation of seeing my father.He was not at home. The only person in the house was his clerk, AbelDeath."

  "You were personally acquainted with Abel Death?"

  "Yes."

  "And on friendly terms with him?"

  "Yes."

  "Why did he not open the street door for you?"

  "He had been instructed not to admit anyone during my father'sabsence."

  "Not even to go down to the door to see who it was who soughtentrance?"

  "Not even that. He was ordered not to stir out of the office."

  "Was your father a very strict man?"

  "Very strict."

  "Had you a definite object in view when you paid the visit, apart fromthe natural desire to see him?"

  "I had. My circumstances were not good, and I went to see if I couldnot improve them. My mother had left me a small fortune, and hadappointed a trustee to administer it. This trustee had given me tounderstand that when I was of age I should come into possession ofAL8,000. I spent my youth and early manhood abroad, and when I returnedhome my trustee was dead, and my father had the disposition of myinheritance. He wished me to join him in his business, but I had adistaste for it, and we had many arguments and discussions on thesubject."

  The Juror: "Quarrels?"

  "I suppose they would be considered so. We were equally firm, and theconsequence of our disagreement was that there was a breach betweenus, which ended in my leaving his house."

  "Voluntarily?"

  "He sent me away. Before I left he asked me what I intended to liveupon, and I answered that I had my inheritance. Greatly to my surprisehe informed me that all the money had been spent upon me during andthree or four years after my minority. He showed me a statement ofaccounts which I did not understand."

  "Interrupting you here, has that statement of accounts been foundamong your father's papers?"

  "No statement of accounts has been found. Shall I proceed?"

  "If you wish."

  "It is hardly my wish, but I certainly desire to anticipate questionswhich might be put to me by the jury."

  The Juror: "Quite right. It will save trouble."

  Reginald: "I questioned the correctness of these accounts, and myfather said he was ready to prove their correctness in a court of law.Such a course was repugnant to my feelings, and we parted, my resolvebeing to carve out a path for myself. I was not fortunate, and on theday I visited my father I was practically penniless. I was thenmarried, and I desired to make a home for my wife, which in my thencircumstances was not possible. It was this which drove me to makinganother appeal to my father to restore money which I believed wasrightfully mine. On the occasion of my afternoon visit I remained onlya short time with Mr. Abel Death, and before I left I informed him ofmy intention to come again at night. I paid my second visit at aboutten o'clock, which I thought was the best time to find my fatheralone. I knocked at the door, and he came down and asked who wasthere. He recognised my voice when I answered him, and he refused toadmit me. I told him from without that I was determined to see him, ifnot that night, the next day or night, and if not then, that I wouldcontinue my efforts until I succeeded. Upon that he unlocked andunbolted the door, and I entered and followed him upstairs into theoffice, where I explained the motive for my visit. I informed him thatI was married, and that it was necessary I should provide for my wife.We were together half an hour or so, and he refused to assist me, anddenied that any money was due to me. I offered to accept a small sum,and to sign a full quittance, but he turned a deaf ear to all myappeals, and at length I left him. Mr. Coroner, I am aware that inthis disclosure I have touched upon matters which do not come strictlywithin the scope of your inquiry. I have done so because I wish toavoid the suspicion of any reluctance on my part to make known to youand the jury all my proceedings with respect to my father. Privatematters have already been introduced which affect me closely, andwhile I dispute the justice of the direction which this inquiry hastaken I recognise that more mischief may be done by silence than by afrank and open confession."

  The Coroner: "Your statement is a voluntary one, and much of it is notpertinent to the inquiry. You say that you visited your father atabout ten o'clock?"

  "At about that hour."

  "You left the house before eleven o'clock?"

  "Certainly before that hour."

  "Were you and your father quite alone?"

  "Quite alone."

  "Did any one apply for admission while you were with him?"

  "No one."

  "There was no other person except yourselves in the house?"

  "Not to my knowledge."

  "Did your father accompany you to the street door?"

  "I do not think he did."

  "Cannot you say with certainty?"

  "No. I regret that, as regards the last few minutes of the interview,I cannot entirely depend upon my memory. I was deeply agitated, and mymind was in confusion. I have endeavoured in vain to recall everyincident and word, and it has occurred to me that the fever from whichI immediately afterwards suffered, and which kept me to my bed forseveral days, may have been upon me then. I have a recollection--notvery clear--that as I went downstairs I felt in my pocket for thelatchkey."

  "For what reason? You did not need the key to open the door fromwithin?"

  "I cannot say why I did it. I can only tell you what is in my mind."

  "Have you the latchkey now?"

  "No, I have lost it."

  "Where?"

  "I do not know where."

  "Have you searched for it?"

  "Yes, without success."

  "Between your two visits to your father on that Friday did you comeinto communication with Mr. Abel Death?"

  "No."

  "Did you not see him in Catchpole Square, or in its vicinity?"

  "I repeat that I did not see him, and had no communication with him."

  The Juror: "Angry words passed between you and your father?"

  "I am afraid so."

  "Threatening words?"

  "Not on my part."

  "On his?" (A momentary pause.) "I do not insist upon a reply."

  "Oh, I will reply. My father threatened to bring an action against mefor a balance of AL1,200, which he said was due to him on the account."

  "You disputed the correctness of the account?"

  "Certainly I disputed it."

  "Did you accuse your father of fraud?"

  The Coroner: "Order, order!"

  The question was not answered.

  The Juror: "Is it true that during these last two years you have beenliving under an assumed name?"

  "I
have been passing as Mr. Reginald. Reginald is my Christian name."

  "Was it as Mr. Reginald you introduced yourself to the family ofInspector Robson?"

  "I was introduced to them by that name."

  "They did not know you were the son of Mr. Samuel Boyd?"

  "They did not."

  "And you did not inform them?"

  "Not for some time--not, indeed, till I was married."

  "That is quite lately?"

  "Yes."

  "Have you any objection to inform us why you suppressed the name ofBoyd? Were you ashamed of it?"

  "You are pressing me rather hardly."

  The Coroner: "I quite agree. Many of these questions are totallyirrelevant."

  The Juror: "Surely, Mr. Coroner, it is of importance that we should bemade acquainted with the true state of the relations existing betweenMr. Samuel Boyd and his only child. Putting aside Lady Wharton'sstatements and impressions, and assuming that the medical evidence iscorrect, the witness is the last person who saw the deceased alive."

  Reginald: "That is not so. Some person or persons must have seen himafter I left him on Friday night."

  The Juror: "Well, the last person who has given evidence in thisCourt?"

  Reginald: "Yes."

  "Have you taken out letters of administration?"

  "Yes."

  "As matters stand at present you are the only person who has benefitedby the death of your father?"

  The Coroner: "I will not allow questions of this nature to be put tothe witness, who has given his evidence very fairly, and has shownevery disposition to assist the Court."

  Reginald: "I should like to explain that I did not know my father hadnot made a will. My impression was that he had made one, disinheritingme. Even now, although no will has yet been found, one may beforthcoming."

  The Juror: "Extremely unlikely. There has been plenty of time for itsproduction."

  The Coroner: "You have heard the evidence respecting the bullet in thewall. Is it within your knowledge that your father kept a pistol byhim?"

  Reginald: "During the time I lived with him he always had a loadedpistol. It was a Colt's revolver. I do not know whether, during thelast two years, he continued to keep it."

  "Did your father ever fire the pistol?"

  "Never, to my knowledge."

  "On what day were you taken ill?"

  "On the day following my visit to my father. I recollect feeling giddyand light-headed when I returned home that night. I went to bed aboutmidnight, and the next morning I was too ill to rise. Thecircumstances of my marriage have been made public in the course ofthis inquiry. I was living alone in Park Street, Islington, and I hadintervals of consciousness during which I wrote from time to time tomy wife, who was living with her parents. Eventually she came to nurseme, and then the secret of our marriage was at an end. She has relatedhow, being alarmed at my condition, she went to Catchpole Square lastTuesday night to inform my father, and, if possible, to bring him tome. I am deeply, deeply grateful to her for the love and devotion shehas shown towards me, and to her parents for their kindness andconsideration."

  "Where were you on Thursday night?"

  "Ill in bed. For a week, from Saturday to Saturday, I did not leave myroom."

  Reginald's loving look towards Florence, and his tender accents inspeaking of her, made a strong impression upon the spectators as, hisexamination concluded, he retired to his seat by her side.

  The Coroner (to the jury): "An hour ago I received a communicationfrom a gentleman who stated that he had evidence of importance totender which he thinks we ought to hear with as little delay aspossible. This gentleman, I understand, is in waiting outside. It maybe a convenient time to examine him. Call Dr. Pye."