The White Room

CHAPTER XX
THE HOUSE IN THE FIELDS

While these events were taking place, Professor Bocaros was having rather an unpleasant time with Emily Doon. One morning she came crying to him, with the information that Mrs. Fane had dismissed her for her treachery. "And it's all your fault," said Emily.

"I am very sorry," began the professor.

"What's the use of sorrow?" lamented Miss Doon. "Will sorrow keep bread and butter in my mouth? I have been dismissed without a character, and where am I to go?"

"There's your sister-"

"Oh, thank you, baron," flamed up the girl; "but I can arrange my own affairs. You had no business telling Mrs. Fane. Had I known you intended to play me so dirty a trick I should not have spoken."

"It was necessary that I should do so, for my schemes."

"Well, and what are your schemes coming to? Here am I without a situation, and with hardly a penny. I shan't go to Fanny's. She would keep me toiling and moiling in her horrid lodging-house from morning to night. I am not used to hard work. Keep your promise and marry me."

"I am only too glad to do that," said Bocaros quickly. "You know that I love you very dearly."

"You wouldn't treat me so badly if you did. What about the money?"

Bocaros frowned. "I can't say yet," he said. "But get that money I will. As to your dismissal, I shall see Mrs. Fane and put it right."

"Not with her," said Emily, rising. "She's a hard one, she is, and I shan't go back to be sneered at. Money or no money, I marry you."

"But if I don't get the money," said Bocaros doubtfully.

"I'll still have the title, and one can do so much with the title."

"The professor seized her wrist. When you marry me you will have to behave yourself," he said. "I am not going to give you my honoured name for you to drag in the mud."

"I'll do as I like," gasped Emily defiantly.

"You will not. Become my wife if you choose, for I love you too well to give you up, money or no money. But once you are the Baroness Bocaros, you will be above suspicion. Play me false, soil my name, and I'll kill you."

"You look just the sort to kill a woman," said Miss Doon, wrenching her hand away. "For all I know, you killed that cousin of yours to get the money."

The professor shook her hard. "How dare you say that!" he exclaimed furiously. "I do not know who killed my cousin. But I more than suspect Arnold Calvert. I spoke to your mistress. She can prove much, and she will. The money-the money-" Bocaros convulsively opened and shut his hand. "I must have that money."

"Well," said Emily, rising to go, "you hear me. I'm going to Fanny for a week, and I shall expect to hear from you. I'll marry you as soon as you can get the licence, and I'll behave as I like."

"No," said Bocaros savagely.

"Yes," she retorted. "Don't you think I'm a fool, baron, because I'm not. I can play my own game. If you don't marry me, I'll tell the police what I told you."

"You'll ruin your mistress if you do."

"She's ruined me," retorted Miss Doon, her hand on the door, "and I always pay my debts. I don't know what game you are playing, but, as I say, I can play my own."

Bocaros made a dash at her, but she was too quick for him. With wonderful dexterity she whipped through the door, and was outside, walking rapidly away, before he had time to recover from his rage. He went back to his chair, and flung himself down with a curse. Mrs. Fane had evidently played him false, since she had behaved so with her maid. Bocaros had thought she was in his power, but the dismissal of Emily showed that Mrs. Fane was quite prepared to make the matter public. If this were the case, she might not be ready to assist him in punishing Arnold, since she would not care to be mixed up with a murder case. And the whole chance of getting the money out of Calvert lay in the fact of the matter being kept quiet. From Arnold's demeanour Bocaros did not think he was guilty, but he fancied he could frighten him, and so gain his ends. But if Mrs. Fane made the whole affair public, Calvert might-and probably would-face the worst. No money would be forthcoming then. So Bocaros sat gnawing his fingers, filled with perplexing thoughts and looking old and worn.

"I'll see Jasher," he said to himself, "and tell him all. He may see a way out of the matter. I'll write to him to come here this evening."

So saying, the professor sat down and wrote a letter, which he directed to the Private Inquiry-Office. He closed the envelope and stamped it, and then returned to his seat. Hardly had he sat down when a sharp knock came to the door. Glancing through the window, the professor saw Calvert and Tracey on the step. Here was the very man he was wishing to circumvent putting his head into the lion's mouth. But Bocaros did not like the presence of Tracey, as the American was so sharp. He could deal with Arnold, but Tracey was beyond him. At first he decided to remain quiet in the hope that the two men would depart, but his curiosity got the better of his prudence, and he opened the door, to be met by the smile of Luther.

"Well, professor, and how are you?" said Luther, stepping inside without an invitation. "I have brought Mr. Calvert to see you. We want to say a few words."

"I am delighted to see you, Mr. Calvert," said Bocaros, very much on his guard from this polite demeanour of Tracey. "Come in. I hope you will excuse my humble abode. With your money, you are used to palaces."

"Only to Bloomsbury lodgings," said Arnold, taking a seat. "You forget I have only come into my kingdom lately. By the way, was not that Mrs. Fane's maid I saw leaving your house?"

"It was. She came on an errand."

"Arnold glanced curiously at the man. He did not know the truth, nor could he guess what errand had brought Miss Doon to this lonely house. He was seated near the window, and the professor went to get another chair. Tracey, who was walking about, spied the letter to Jasher on the desk. Taking it up, he looked at the address, then without a moment's hesitation slipped it into his pocket. Arnold did not see this proceeding, or he might have objected. But Luther had considered the matter. He suspected Bocaros, and wondered what devilry he was up to in corresponding with Jasher. He therefore took the letter to read at his leisure, and should it be harmless he would send it on. But Tracey was unscrupulous, and thinking he was dealing with a rogue, resolved-as in the present instance-to beat him with his own weapons. Having thus accomplished his purpose, he returned to his seat, when Bocaros, with an extra chair, entered the room.

"Well, gentlemen," said the professor when seated, "what can I do?"

"That's rather a difficult question to answer, professor," said Calvert, signing to Tracey to hold his too fluent tongue. "Mr. Tracey and I have come to see you about this murder."

"What have I to do with it?" asked Bocaros coldly.

"Well, you asked me to search for the criminal, and said if I did not, you would do so yourself. Have you?"

"Yes," replied Bocaros, "I have searched with Jasher. From all I have learned, sir-since we are to speak plainly-I think you are the guilty person."

"And if I am, professor, what will you do?"

"Bocaros rose. I don't exactly know. I hate you for killing Flora, who was a charming woman; but since you are a relative of mine-"

"Only a relative by marriage," interrupted Calvert. "That hardly counts, I think."

"Still, you are a relative," persisted the professor, "so I am willing to hush the matter up."

"For money, I guess," said Tracey, who had not lost a word.

"Certainly, for money," said Bocaros dryly. "The fortune of my cousin should be mine. She changed her mind and left it to you. I claim half."

"And you will hold your tongue if I give you five thousand a year?"

"Yes; I will certainly do that," said the professor, thinking he was getting on capitally.

"What about the detective?" asked Luther.

"Jasher? Well, you will have to settle with him also. He will require money also."

"And if I refuse to pay you or Jasher?" asked Arnold.

"I shall ask Jasher to see Inspector Derrick and tell what we know."

Arnold looked curiously at Bocaros, and wondered at the hardihood of his threat. "Merely out of curiosity, professor, I should like to know what evidence you have against me."

"That is easy," said Bocaros promptly. "You were not at the theatre till after nine, and Flora was killed before then. The money you wanted very badly. I heard about the stage dagger from Mrs. Fane's maid, and I know you used it, and-"

"Wait," said Arnold quickly. "All these things I can disprove by an alibi. I was at my rooms till nearly half-past nine, as my landlady, Mrs. Varney, can prove. I then went down and finished acting the part, when Hart was unexpectedly taken ill."

"But you were at the house," said Bocaros savagely. "Yes; later. But Mrs. Brand was murdered before nine by your own showing, professor, so you can prove nothing against me."

"I can make your doings on that night public," said the other, feeling the money slipping away from him.

"Hardly, unless you want to find yourself in a very unpleasant position, my good man."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that Mrs. Brand left a diary behind her, which was discovered by me and Mr. Tracey. In it, she relates your visits to her-and you paid more than two, professor."

"What if I did visit her?" said Bocaros, the perspiration rising on his forehead. "She was my cousin, and-"

"And you had every right to do so. Quite so. But had you a right to tell her about Fane?"

"Fane?" stammered the Greek, completely taken aback.

"Yes. You knew before July that Fane and Brand were one and the same."

"I did not-I did not."

"I guess you did," said Tracey; "see here, professor, what's the use of slinging lies? I guess we've got the bulge on you this trip. Mrs. B.'s diary gave away the whole thing, and now we have come to ask what you were doing in the house on the night of the murder?"

"Or, to put it plainly," said Arnold quietly, "why you killed Flora?"

Bocaros, as Fane had done before him, leaped to his feet. "I did not kill the woman! I swear I did not."

"Fane said the same thing."

"But Fane did. He was in the house."

"How do you know that?" asked Luther; and Bocaros, seeing he had gone too far, was silent. "I reckon," went on the American, "that this is what the law calls a conspiracy. You've been building up card-castles to get that money, and they've tumbled. Now it's our turn to threaten to make things public, professor, and if you don't speak out you will be arrested."

"I arrested!" gasped Bocaros, stepping back a pace.

"Yes-for murder," said Arnold solemnly.

"I did not kill her."

"We have yet to be sure that you did not. At all events, you wrote letters to me and to Miss Mason, so that you might bring us to the house on that night, so as to implicate us in the matter. It was very clever, Bocaros, and, but that I overslept myself on that night, I would have been at Ajax Villa. Then, I grant you, my position would have been awkward, seeing I inherit the money. As it is I can prove that I had nothing to do with the matter. If you did not kill the woman, who did?"

"Fane," said Bocaros, with dry lips. "Yes, Fane came up from Southend, and Fane struck the blow to rid himself of an encumbrance."

"He says he didn't," said Tracey; "we've put him through his paces, and, although he's a mean white, I guess he's not a murderer. How did you know he came up from Southend? Did you write the letter to lure him there also?"

"No; Flora wrote it herself."

"Under your direction?"

"I shan't say."

"You'll have to say," said Arnold quickly; "we will have you arrested otherwise. What has become of the locket Mrs. Baldwin gave you?"

Bocaros looked up doggedly. "She gave me no locket."

"She did," insisted Calvert. "A small round locket, with her photograph inside. You wore it on your watch-chain; and when Flora was struck, she turned round and tore it off in her death-agony. It was found in her clenched hand by Fane."

"I never had any locket," said Bocaros, with dry lips. "I am innocent."

"You'll find that hard to prove. However, both myself and Tracey are willing to give you a hearing."

"What will you do if I confess?"

"I will send you out of the country."

"I guess that's so. We don't want your sort dumped here," said Tracey.

"Will you give me money, so that I may not starve?" said Bocaros, taking no notice of this speech, and addressing himself to Arnold.

"I don't think you deserve a penny, seeing how you proposed to blackmail me. However, if you can prove your innocence, and can tell us who is the real criminal, I will help you."

"I don't know who killed Flora, unless it was Fane."

"Well then, Fane didn't," said Luther sharply. "Now, fire ahead and reel out your yarn. No lies, mind, or there'll be trouble."

"Sir," said Bocaros, with a dignity which never deserted him throughout this very trying interview, "you forget I am a nobleman."

"I know. They sell your sort at a penny a bunch abroad," retorted Tracey. "Go on. Talk away. I want to hear of this conspiracy."

"There is no conspiracy," protested Bocaros. "I merely wished to get back my own."

"Ah, you look upon the ten thousand a year as your own," said Arnold; "may I ask how you make that out?"

"Flora left the money to me."

"She did, and changed her mind. How did you induce her to make a will in your favour?"

"It was her own good heart."

"Rubbish!" said Arnold roughly; "if you tell lies, professor, I won't help you. Come-the truth now."

Bocaros meditated. He wanted money badly, and if he went abroad-and Calvert had the power to force him to take such a course-he would certainly starve. The school, small as the salary was, kept him alive; but even this slender means of subsistence would be taken from him should he be banished from England. And by the stern faces of the two men, he saw very well that he would be judged with justice. He therefore made up his mind to earn the money by telling the truth. Anything was better than starvation, even loss of dignity. But for all that, and although he was fallen from his high estate, Bocaros kept up a dignified appearance, and spoke in his best style.

"I met my cousin, as I told you before," he said, "and I frequently went to see her."

"Why did you say you only paid three visits?" asked Calvert.

"For obvious reasons," said Tracey; "he wanted to keep his cards under the table."

"I don't know what you mean," said the professor quietly; "but I admit that I did not wish you to learn the part I had taken in this matter. I visited my cousin frequently. I saw a portrait of her husband, and recognised Mr. Fane."

"Where did you see him?"

"One day-no, on two occasions, I saw him walking with Miss Mason. I asked who he was. She told me her brother-in-law. When I saw Fane while calling on Mrs. Fane the other day I remembered his face again. But for the moment I forgot where I had seen him."

"Come now," cried Luther, "you couldn't forget a face like that-especially the face of a man whom you were trying to ruin."

"Bocaros put his hand to his head. My brain is not very clear at times," he faltered. "I often think I will take leave of my senses. I assure you, gentlemen, that I forgot where I had seen Mr. Fane when we came face to face the other day."

"Well, it doesn't matter," said Tracey, seeing that the man spoke truly; "go on, and tell us what you did."

"I said nothing to Mrs. Brand for a time, although I knew that her husband was married to another woman. She and her husband did not get on well together, and I did not want to make them more unhappy. Then she inherited the money, and before that Brand went presumably to Australia."

"He was here under the name of Fane," said Arnold.

"He was. I saw him at times. Well, Flora got the money. I wanted some. She talked of making a will in her husband's favour, for she still loved him. I then hinted that he was married. She nearly went out of her mind. I refused to tell her the truth until she made a will in my favour. She did. And she treated me very badly," burst out Bocaros, warm with the memory of his wrongs; "she changed the will after she got the truth out of me. When I heard of her death, I quite thought the money would come to me. Instead of that-"

"It was a case of the biter bit," said Arnold. "I think Flora did quite right. You had no right to levy blackmail."

"It was not blackmail," said Bocaros indignantly, and really he seemed to believe what he said. "I made her leave the money to me, and then I told her the truth."

"The whole truth?"

"Not then. I did not wish her to make trouble at once. I told her that her husband's real name was Fane, and that he had a wife and child. But I did not say where the house was."

"Well, what happened?"

"Fane came back as Brand, saying he had changed his mind about going to Australia. I advised Flora to take an impression of his latch-key, so that she could prove the house was Fane's, by its opening the door. She thought this a good idea. Also, she wished to get inside to see the White Room about which I had told her. She took the impression when Fane was asleep. I had the keys made."

"How many?" asked Arnold quickly; "one was sent to me by you."

"No; I did not send that. Three keys were made. One Flora kept herself, and two she gave me. I used one to enter the house myself-"

"Oh, you acknowledge you were in the house?"

"I do. I lost the other key."

"Where?" demanded Arnold, looking keenly at the man who seemed to speak in all good faith.

Bocaros again looked bewildered. "I hardly know. I left it in this room, and I never found it again."

"Did you not send the key to me?"

"No; I swear I did not."

"Then who did?"

"I can't say. The key was left here, and lost. I used the other."

"H'm!" said Arnold, after a pause. "Go on, and tell us about your doings on that night. We can talk of the missing key later. What happened?"

"I appointed to meet Mrs. Brand in the garden. She had the key, and so had I. She told me that she had written asking her husband to come up. She sent the letter to Ajax Villa, and thought it would be sent on. I was annoyed at this."

"Did she tell you this when you met?"

"No; because we did not meet on that night."

"How was that?"

"I was kept till late at the school and could not get away. It was ten o'clock before I left, as I could not get away earlier although I pleaded an engagement. I thought Flora would enter the house and wait. I arrived a few minutes after ten, and saw the light burning, I then thought she was waiting. I entered with my own key, and went upstairs to where the light was. It was the White Room. There I saw Flora dead-stabbed under the left shoulder-blade. On seeing this I grew afraid, and came away at once."

"Oh!" said Arnold, after another pause; "so it was you Fane heard in the house after ten o'clock?"

"I was there after ten, and I went away early at half-past."

"Who was with you?" asked Tracey; "Fane said there were two men."

"I was alone," said Bocaros; "there was no one with me. All happened as I say. I grew afraid, seeing that I was Flora's cousin, and that it was I who had brought her to the house. Also, I had got the keys for her, and she had made a will in my favour. I fancied if I were found I would be arrested and hanged."

"There was certainly enough evidence to hang you," said Calvert. "I also was afraid when I found the body; I fled also. We all seemed to have lost our heads."

"I don't think you did, Calvert," said Tracey, "considering the slim way you lured that policeman away. Well, professor, did you see any one in the house?"

"Not a soul. I was there only for a quarter of an hour or so."

Luther nodded. "Yes; Fane said he heard you go out. But Fane fancied there were two men."

"I was alone," said the professor positively, and the others believed him. He had no reason to tell lies, seeing the position in which he was placed. His only chance of safety lay in telling the truth-the exact truth, and he appeared to be doing so.

"Now then," said Calvert, when he and Tracey had digested this information, "what about the forged letters?"

"I did not write them. Why should I?"

"Well, you might have made up your mind to kill Flora, and then have arranged for me to be lured there, so that I might be accused."

"But I did not kill her; and had I written the letter to lure you, I should not have sent one to Miss Mason also. I could not accuse her."

"That's true enough," said Arnold perplexed; "so the key was lost in this room. Have you many visitors, professor?"

"Very few," said Bocaros, glancing at Tracey. "You often come," this was to the American.

"I do," assented that gentleman; "are you going to accuse me of taking the key?"

"The key has gone."

"That is as much as to say I took it, and killed Mrs. Brand," said the other, with a shrug; "but who else comes? That maid?"

"She only paid me a visit after the murder."

"Well, she can't be guilty. Who else?"

Bocaros reluctantly admitted that Mrs. Baldwin sometimes came.

On hearing this, Tracey looked disturbed. "Can she have taken the key?"

"Nonsense!" said Arnold decisively-"a fat, lazy woman like that? Besides, the person who had the key would write the letters, seeing that the key came in one. Why should Mrs. Baldwin desire to get me and Laura into trouble?"

"I don't know," murmured Tracey anxiously, and recalling Mrs. Baldwin's behaviour at the Hampstead cottage. "She's a queer fish. Then that locket with her picture-"

"I have seen Mrs. Baldwin with such a locket," said Bocaros.

"Oh, you have." Tracey, much alarmed, looked at Calvert. "I say, you don't think she killed Mrs. Brand?"

Grave as the situation was, Calvert smiled at the idea of Mrs. Baldwin in the character of Lady Macbeth. "I would as soon think of my having done it myself," he declared. "There is some mystery about all this. Can you solve it, professor?"

"No," said Bocaros. "I have told you all. What will you do?"

"Interview Mrs. Baldwin, and ask her about the locket," said Arnold, rising. "By the way, I must see Jasher. He may have made some discovery."

"He will be here this evening," said Bocaros. "I have written to him."

Tracey tapped his coat. "I have the letter, and will post it. In fact, now I have his address, I will send a wire."

"But how dare you take my letters?"

"Go slow, professor. I'm running this show now. We'll come here to meet Jasher this evening, and thresh out the matter. You take it lying down, or you won't get any money. And now, Arnold Calvert, Esquire?"

"We will see Mrs. Baldwin about the locket," said Arnold.