It was with almost breathless interest that Dick listened to this confession, and it was with a feeling of dismay that he heard the last words, "Now you know all." Did they know all? Not a word about the key, not a word about the second visit to his father late on that fatal Friday night!
"Are people speaking about Abel Death?" asked Reginald, turning to Dick.
"Yes. They are coupling his disappearance with the murder. A strong suspicion is entertained. His poor wife is nearly mad with grief."
"Do you tell me he is suspected of the crime?" cried Reginald, in an excited tone.
"Many suspect him."
"What cruelty to defame an innocent man-what cruelty, what cruelty!"
"Do you know for a certainty that he is innocent?" asked Dick.
"That is a strange question, Dick. How can I be certain? Until the truth is known, how can any man be certain? I speak from my knowledge of his character. A drudge, working from hand to mouth. Alas! what misery and injustice this dreadful deed brings in its train!"
"Reginald, dear," said Florence, gently, "you are exhausted. Do not talk any more. Rest a little. Dick will remain here, and will come up when you want him."
"Yes, I am tired. You are a true friend, Dick. You will assist us, I know. Do all you can to avert suspicion from Abel Death. I must rest and think. There are so many things to think of-so many things!"
He held out his hand to Dick, and then sank back in his bed and closed his eyes. There was nothing more to be said at present, and Dick and Aunt Rob stole softly to the room below.
"Now, Dick," she said, "I am going to open my mind to you."
"Do, aunt."
"Has it occurred to you that in this trouble that has fallen upon Reginald he needs a man of business to act for him." Dick looked at her for an explanation. "A man of business," she repeated, "and a devoted friend, rolled into one. I am a practical woman as you know, Dick, and we mustn't lose sight of Reginald's interests-because his interests are Florence's now, and ours. He stands to-day in a very different position from what he did when he married Florence without our knowledge. Mr. Boyd's death is very shocking, and it will be a long time before we get over it; but after all it's not like losing one we loved. He's dead and gone, and the Lord have mercy upon him. The longer he lived the more mischief he'd have done, and the more poor people he'd have made miserable. It sounds hard, but it's the honest truth. I'm looking the thing straight in the face, and I feel that something ought to be done without delay."
"What ought to be done, aunt?"
"Well, Reginald is Mr. Boyd's only child, and there's that house in Catchpole Square, with any amount of valuable property in it, and no one to look after it. It mustn't be left to the mercy of strangers."
"It ought not to be."
"Reginald won't be able to stir out of the house for at least three or four days. Now, who's to attend to his interests? You. Who's to search for the will, supposing one was made-which with all my heart and soul I hope wasn't? You. Even if there is a will, leaving the money away from him, he can lay claim to the fortune his mother left him, for there isn't a shadow of doubt that he has been robbed of it. There's no one else with time on their hands that will act fair by him. You must be Reginald's man of business, Dick."
"Some person certainly should represent him," said Dick, thoughtfully, "and I shall have no objection if he wishes it. But it must be done legally."
"Of course it must. Do you know a solicitor?"
"Not one."
"And I don't, but I think I can put you on the scent of a gentleman that will do for us. In High Street, about a dozen doors down on the left hand side from here, there's a brass plate with 'Mr. Lamb, Solicitor,' on it. Just step round, and ask Mr. Lamb if he'll be kind enough to come and see me on very particular business. While you're gone I'll say just three words to Reginald; I'll answer for it he'll not object."
"You are a practical woman, aunt," said Dick, putting on his hat.
"Have you lived with us all these years without finding it out? Cut away, Dick."
Away he went, and soon returned with Mr. Lamb, a very large gentleman with a very small practice; and being a gentleman with a very small practice he brought with him a capacious blue bag.
"This is professional, Mr. Lamb," said Aunt Rob.
"So I judge, madam, from your message," he answered, taking a seat, and pulling the strings of his blue bag with the air of a gentleman who could instantly produce any legal document she required.
Aunt Rob then explained matters, and asked what Reginald's position was.
"If there is no will, madam, he is heir at law," said Mr. Lamb.
"Until a will is found can he enter into possession of the house?"
"Undoubtedly."
"And being too ill to leave his bed, can he appoint some one to act for him?"
"He has an indisputable right to appoint any person he pleases."
"Then please draw up at once a paper to that effect, in as few words as possible."
"At once, madam!" exclaimed Mr. Lamb, with a professional objection to a course so prompt and straightforward.
"At once," said Aunt Rob, with decision. "This is an unusual case. There is the house with no one to take care of it, and here is my son-in-law upstairs, unable to leave his bed. If you cannot do what you want I must consult-"
"Madam," said Mr. Lamb, hastily, "there is no occasion for you to consult another solicitor. I will draw out such an authority as you require, and it can be stamped on Monday. Favour me with the name of the attorney."
"The attorney?" she said, in a tone of inquiry.
"The gentleman whom Mr. Reginald Boyd appoints to act for him?"
"Oh, Mr. Dick Remington. My nephew."
The solicitor, recognising that Aunt Rob was not a woman to be trifled with, even by a solicitor, accepted the situation with a good grace, and set to work.
"I have spoken to Reginald, Dick," said Aunt Rob, "and he consented gladly. It is to be a matter of business, mind that. We can't have you wasting your time for nothing."
In due time the solicitor announced that the document was ready, and read it out to them, not quite to Aunt Rob's satisfaction, who shook her head at the number of words, and was only reconciled when Dick said it was all right.
"It is in proper form and order," said Mr. Lamb, "though shorter than it should be."
"The shorter the better," said Aunt Rob.
He smiled sadly. "There is another thing Mr. Reginald Boyd should do, madam. He should take out letters of administration."
"Is that a long job?" she asked.
"No, madam, it is very simple, very simple."
"Then let it be done immediately."
"There are certain formalities, madam. With Mr. Reginald Boyd's permission we will attend to it on Monday. To this present power of attorney the signatures of two witnesses are necessary."
"I'm one, and my nephew's another."
"Your nephew, madam, being an interested party, is not available. Your signature will be valid, and there is probably a servant in the house."
"Of course there is," said Aunt Rob, resentfully. "The law seems to me to be nothing but going round corners and taking wrong turnings purposely. Such a fuss and to-do about a signature I never heard."
Mr. Lamb gave her a reproachful look. "It is for the protection of the individual, madam. The law is a thing to be thankful for."
"Is it?" she snapped.
"Without law, madam," he said, in feeble protest, "society could not exist. We should be in a state of chaos."
The formalities were soon concluded. Reginald signed, Aunt Rob signed, and the servant signed, though at the words, "This is your hand and seal," she trembled visibly. Then instructions were given for the taking out of letters of administration, and Mr. Lamb took his departure.
"Your worthy aunt," he said, as Dick opened the street door for him, "is a very extraordinary woman. The manner in which she has rushed this business through is quite unique, and I am not sure, in the strict sense of the term, that it is exactly professional. I can only trust it will not be accepted as a precedent."
CHAPTER XXXI
SCENES IN CATCHPOLE SQUARE
From time to time there had been murders committed in London with details dismal and sordid enough to satisfy the most rabid appetites, but it was generally admitted that the great Catchpole Square Mystery outvied them all in just those elements of attraction which render crime so weirdly fascinating to the British public. Men and women in North Islington experienced a feeling akin to that which the bestowal of an unexpected dignity confers, and when they retired to bed were more than ordinarily careful about the fastening of locks and bolts. Timid wives woke in the middle of the night, and tremblingly asked their husbands whether they did not hear somebody creeping in the passages, and many a single woman shivered in her bed. Shopkeepers standing behind their counters bristled with it; blue-aproned butchers, knife in hand, called out their "Buy, buy, buy!" with a brisk and cheery ring; crossing sweepers touched their hats smartly to their patrons, and preceding them with the unnecessary broom as they swept nothing away, murmured the latest rumour; the lamplighters, usually a sad race, lighted the street lamps with unwonted alacrity; and the Saturday night beggars took their stands below the kerb in hopeful anticipation of a spurt in benevolence. Naturally it formed the staple news in the newspapers on Sunday and Monday, and all agreed that the excitement it had created was unparallelled in the records of the criminal calendar.
"On Saturday evening," said "The Little Busy Bee" in its Monday's editions, "numbers of people wended their way to Catchpole Square from every part of the metropolis. Up till late the usually quiet streets resembled a Saturday night market, and there was an extraordinary demand for the literature of crime, with which the vendors of second-hand books had provided themselves. Towards midnight the human tide slackened, but even during the early hours of the morning there were many fresh arrivals. On Sunday the excitement was renewed, and it is calculated that seven or eight thousand persons must have visited the Square in the course of the day, many of whom seemed to regard the occasion as a picnic.
"In our columns will be found picturesque accounts of incidents that came under the notice of our reporters, not the least amusing of which is that of the mother and father who brought with them a large family of children, and had come provided with food for a day's outing. They arrived at eleven in the morning, and at eleven at night were still there. They had been informed that when a murdered man was lying in his own bed unburied on the Day of Rest he was ordered to get up and dress himself when the church bells rang, and go to church to pray for his sins. If he disobeyed his soul was lost, and his ghost would appear on the roof at midnight, surrounded by flames and accompanied by the Evil One. 'Did he go to church?' asked our reporter, who, in a conversation with the woman late on Sunday night, elicited this curious piece of information. 'No,' replied the woman, 'and it's a bad day's work for him. I shouldn't like to be in his shoes.' The woman furthermore said that she would give anything to see the ghost at midnight on the roof, thus evincing small regard for Samuel Boyd's salvation. 'It would be a better show, wouldn't it?' she observed, with an eye to theatrical effect. 'I've never seen the Devil.' It is deplorable that in this age such silly superstitions should obtain credence, and that with numbers of people in different parts of the country the belief in witchcraft and in demoniacal demonstrations should still exist.
"Secondary only in importance to the murder is the disappearance of Samuel Boyd's clerk, Abel Death. To suggest anything in the shape of complicity would be prejudging the case, but whatever may be the fate of Abel Death his poor family are to be commiserated. The theories and conjectures respecting the disappearance of this man are perfectly bewildering, and many are the excited discussions concerning it. Such licence of speech cannot be commended, and we suggest to those persons indulging in it the advisability of suspending their judgment.
"A full report of the inquest held this morning appears in our columns. In view of the burial of the body of the murdered man, which will take place to-morrow, it was deemed necessary to open the inquiry to-day, although it was anticipated that little progress would be made; but although the Coroner stated that the proceedings would be of a formal character, it will be seen that matters were introduced the development of which will be followed with the keenest interest. The appearance of an eminent barrister for Lord and Lady Wharton, whose names have not hitherto been associated with the mystery, aroused general curiosity, which was intensified by the conduct of Lady Wharton herself. The Court was crowded, and numbers of persons could not obtain admittance. Among the audience we noticed several famous actors and actresses."
CHAPTER XXXII
"THE LITTLE BUSY BEE'S" REPORT OF THE INQUEST
This morning, at the Coroner's Court, Bishop Street, Mr. John Kent, the Coroner for the district, opened an inquiry into the death of Mr. Samuel Boyd, of Catchpole Square, who was found dead in his house on Saturday, the 9th inst., under circumstances which have already been reported in the newspapers.
The coroner, addressing the jury, said the initial proceedings would be chiefly formal. Their first duty would be to view the body of the deceased; after that certain witnesses would be examined who would testify to the finding of the body, and others who would give evidence of identification. The inquiry would then be adjourned till Wednesday, on which day medical and other evidence would be forthcoming. He refrained from any comment on the case, and he advised the jury to turn a deaf ear to the strange rumours and reports which were in circulation; it was of the utmost importance that they should keep an open mind, and be guided only by the evidence which would be presented to them. Much mischief was frequently done by the prejudice aroused by injudicious public comment on a case presenting such singular features as the present. Comments of this nature were greatly to be deplored; they hampered, instead of assisting, the cause of justice.
The jury then proceeded to Catchpole Square to view the body, and upon their return to court Mr. Finnis, Q.C., rose and stated that he appeared for Lord and Lady Wharton, who had a close and peculiar interest in the inquiry.
The Coroner said the inquiry would be conducted in the usual manner, without the aid of counsel, whose assistance would be available in another court, but not in this, where no accusation was brought against any person, and where no person was on his trial.
Mr. Finnis: "Our desire is to render material assistance to you and the jury. Lady Wharton-"
The Coroner: "I cannot listen to you, Mr. Finnis."
Mr. Finnis: "Lady Wharton has most important, I may say most extraordinary evidence to give-"
The Coroner: "Her evidence will be received, but not to-day. Pray be seated."
Mr. Finnis: "Her ladyship is in attendance."
The Coroner: "She is at liberty to remain; but I repeat, her evidence cannot be received to-day. Only formal evidence will be taken to enable the body to be buried."
Mr. Finnis: "Evidence of identification, I understand?"
The Coroner: "Yes."
Mr. Finnis: "Lady Wharton's evidence bears expressly upon this point."
The Coroner: "It must be tendered at the proper time."
Mr. Finnis: "With all respect, Mr. Coroner, I submit that this is the proper time."
The Coroner: "I am the judge of that. I ask you not to persist. I shall conduct this inquiry in accordance with my duties as Coroner."
The first witness called was Mr. Robert Starr.
"You are a reporter?"
"A special reporter and descriptive writer for 'The Little Busy Bee.'"
"Were you the first person to enter the house in Catchpole Square after the death of Mr. Samuel Boyd?"
"I cannot say. Some person or persons had been there before me, as is proved by a broken window at the back of the house through which I obtained entrance, but whether after or before the death of Mr. Boyd is unknown to me."
"It appears, however, to have been a recent entrance?"
"It appears so."
"You have no knowledge of these persons?"
"None whatever."
"Having obtained entrance into the house, what next did you do?"
"I went through a passage, and up a staircase to another passage which leads to the street door. In this passage are doors opening into various rooms. I looked into these rooms without making any discovery, until I came to one which seems to have been used as an office. There are two doors in this office, one opening into a small room in which I saw nothing to arouse my suspicions, the other opening into a larger room which I found was a sleeping apartment."
"Examine this plan of the rooms, and tell us whether it is accurate?"
"Quite accurate, so far as my memory serves."
"The room on the right is the sleeping apartment?"
"Yes."
"Mr. Samuel Boyd's bedroom?"
"I do not know. There was a bed in it, and the usual appointments of a bedroom. I stepped up to the bed, and saw it was occupied. Examining closer, I discovered that the person in it was dead."
"By the person you mean Mr. Samuel Boyd?"
"I do not. I have never seen Mr. Boyd in his lifetime, and I could not therefore identify the body. But from the fact of the house being his, and from certain rumours of foul play which had reached me, I assumed that it was he."
"You examined the body?"
"Yes, and I observed marks on the throat which favoured the presumption that the man had been murdered."
"In his sleep?"
"I cannot vouch for that."
"Were there any signs of a struggle?"
"None. The limbs were composed, and what greatly surprised me was the orderly condition of the bedclothes."
"How long did you remain in the house?"
"About two hours."
"During that time were you quite alone?"
"Quite alone."
"Were there any indications of a robbery having been committed?"
"I observed none. The clothes of the deceased were on a chair, and there was no appearance of their having been rifled. There is a safe fixed to the wall; it did not seem to have been tampered with."
"Having completed your examination, what next did you do?"
"I left the house, and proceeded to the Bishop Street Police Station to give information of my discovery."
"And after that?"
"I went to the office of 'The Little Busy Bee,' and wrote an account of what I had seen and done, which, being published, was the first information the public received of the murder-if murder it was."
"Had any orders been given to you to take action in this matter?"
"None. I acted entirely on my own initiative."
"What impelled you?"
"Well, there seemed to me to be a mystery which should be unravelled in the public interests. I pieced three things together. The disappearance of Mr. Boyd's clerk, as reported in our paper, the silence of Mr. Boyd respecting that disappearance, upon which, had he written or spoken, he could probably have thrown some light, and the house in Catchpole Square sealed up, so to speak. These things required to be explained, and I set about it."
Mr. Finnis, Q.C.: "Now, Mr. Starr, at what time in the morning-"
The Coroner: "No, no, Mr. Finnis. I instruct the witness not to answer any questions you put to him."
Mr. Finnis: "Will you, then Mr. Coroner, ask him at what hour in the morning he made the discovery? I assure you it is a most important point."
The Coroner: "At what hour in the morning did you enter the house?"
"At a little after ten."
"And you left it?"
"At a few minutes before twelve. I went straight to the police station, where, no doubt, the time can be verified."
"Have you any other information to give bearing on this inquiry?"
"One thing should be mentioned. In my printed narrative I state that I noticed dark stains upon the floor of the office and the bedroom, and that I traced these stains to the window at the back. I scraped off a portion of the stains, which I gave to my chief, who handed it to an analyst. His report is that they are the stains of human blood."
"Were they stains of old standing?"
"No. I scraped them off quite easily."
"Did you observe any blood on the bedclothes?"
"None whatever."
The next witness was Constable Simmons, who stated that he and Constable Filey were instructed by the day inspector at the Bishop Street Police Station to enter the house for the purpose of ascertaining whether there was any truth in the information given by Mr. Starr.
"At what time were those instructions issued?"
"Somewhere about three o'clock."
"So that three hours elapsed before any action was taken?
"I am under orders, sir."
The witness then gave an account of how he got into the house by means of a ladder over the wall at the back, and through the window. Corroborating in every particular the evidence of the reporter, he went a step farther. In the bedroom of the deceased he found the key of the street door, which he opened to admit Constable Filey, who was keeping watch in the Square outside. The street door was neither chained nor bolted. He did not see any stains of blood on the floor; he did not look for them.
Constable Filey, who was next examined, gave evidence to the same effect. Neither of these officers was acquainted with Mr. Samuel Boyd, and could not therefore speak as to the identification of the body.
Inspector Robson was then called. His appearance caused some excitement, it being understood that his daughter was married to the son of the deceased.
"You are an inspector of police?"
"Yes. At present on night duty at the Bishop Street Station."
"You were acquainted with Mr. Samuel Boyd?"
"Not personally. I have seen him several times, but have never spoken to him."
"You are sufficiently familiar with his features to identify him?"
"I am."
"When did you first hear of his death?"
"On Saturday afternoon, when I was sitting at home with my wife and my nephew, Mr. Richard Remington. The boys were calling out news of a murder in Catchpole Square, and we went out and bought a paper."
"Before Saturday afternoon had your attention been directed in any way to the house in which the deceased resided?"
"Yes. Last Tuesday night a woman was brought into the office who made a statement respecting the disappearance of her husband, who had been in the service of the deceased."
"What is the name of the woman?"
"Mrs. Abel Death. I advised her to apply to the magistrate on the following morning, in order that it might be made public."
"After reading the news in the paper on Saturday afternoon what did you do?"
"I went to the Bishop Street Station, and learned that constables had been sent to enter the house, for the purpose of ascertaining if the statement made by the reporter was correct."
"And then?"
"I went to Catchpole Square, accompanied by Constable Applebee and my nephew, Mr. Richard Remington-both of whom were acquainted with the deceased-I entered the house and saw the body. I identified it as the body of Mr. Samuel Boyd."
"Is there any doubt in your mind on the point?"
"Not the slightest. I have seen him scores of times, and his features were quite familiar to me."
"You saw the marks on his throat?"
"Yes."
"Have you any idea as to the cause of his death?"
"It appeared to me to have been caused by strangulation."
"Now, Inspector Robson, I wish to ask you if you formed any idea as to how long he had been dead. You cannot, of course, speak with the authority of an expert, but we should like to hear what your impression was?"
"My impression was that he had been dead several days."
At this answer considerable commotion was caused by a lady exclaiming "Impossible! Impossible!"