Fergus Hume - The Secret Passage

Juliet nodded and appeared satisfied with this explanation. But she kept her eyes on her brother when he entered into details about the crime. Her emotions during the recital betrayed themselves markedly.

"I saw the detective," said Basil, with quicker speech than usual. "He is a first-rate chap called Jennings, and when he heard I was Miss Loach's nephew he didn't mind speaking freely."

"What did you learn?" asked Mr. Octagon.

"Enough to make the mystery surrounding the death deeper than ever."

"What do you mean?" asked his sister, restlessly. "Can't the murderer be found?"

"Not a trace of him can be discovered."

"Why do you say 'him.' It might have been a woman."

"No," rejoined Basil positively, "no woman could have struck so hard a blow. Aunt Selina was stabbed to the heart. She must have been killed as she was rising from her chair, and death, so the doctor says, must have been instantaneous."

"Has the weapon been found?" asked Juliet in a low voice.

Basil turned quickly in his chair, and looked at her sharply. "No!" he said, "not a sign of any weapon can be found, nor can it be discovered how anyone got into the house. Though to be sure, she might have admitted her visitor."

"Explain! explain," cried Mr. Octagon, ruffling his hair.

"Well, to tell the story in detail," said his step-son, "the way it happened is this. Aunt Selina had Mr. Hale and Mr. Clancy and Mrs. Herne to their usual game of whist. Clancy, as it appears from the report of what the new parlor-maid overheard, quarrelled with Hale and Mrs. Herne. They left before ten o'clock. At all events, when she entered the room in answer to my aunt's summons, she found only Mr. Clancy, and aunt was scolding him for having provoked Mrs. Herne by contradicting her. Apparently Mrs. Herne had gone away under the wing of Hale. Then aunt sent Clancy away at ten o'clock. The parlor-maid returned to the kitchen and there had supper. She heard the bell ring at eleven, and found aunt dead in the sitting-room, stabbed to the heart."

"Heard the bell ring?" echoed Juliet. "But how could aunt ring if she had been killed?"

"She might have rung as she was dying," said Basil, after a pause. "It seems she was seated near the button of the bell and could have touched it without rising. She might have rung with a last effort, and then have died before the parlor-maid could get to the room."

"Or else," said Mr. Octagon, anxious to prove his perspicuity, "the assassin may have stabbed her and then have touched the bell."

"What!" cried his step-son derisively, "to summon a witness. I don't think the assassin would be such a fool. However, that's all that can be discovered. Aunt Selina is dead, and no one knows who killed her."

"Was the house locked up?" "The front door was closed, and the windows were bolted and barred. Besides, a policeman was walking down Crooked Lane a few minutes before eleven, and would have seen anyone leaving the house. He reported that all was quiet."

"Then the assassin might have rung the bell at eleven," said Peter.

"Certainly not, for he could never have escaped immediately afterwards, without the policeman seeing him."

"He might have got out by the back," suggested Juliet.

"My dear girl, what are you thinking of. That wall round Lord Caranby's mansion blocks any exit at the back. Anyone leaving the house must go up the lane or through that part at the bottom. The policeman was near there shortly before eleven and saw no one leaving the house."

"But, look here," said Mr. Octagon, who had been ruminating; "if, as the doctor says, death was instantaneous, how could your aunt have rung the bell?"

"Yes," added Juliet. "And even had death not taken place at once, it could not have been more than a few minutes before eleven when the blow was struck. Aunt might have had strength to crawl to the bell and touch it, but the assassin could not have escaped from the house, seeing – as you say – the policeman was on guard."

"Aunt died instantaneously," insisted Basil.

"Then she could not have sounded the bell," said Juliet triumphantly.

"The assassin did that," said Peter.

"And thus called a witness," cried Basil. "Ridiculous!"

"Then how do you explain the matter?"

"I can't explain. Neither can the detective Jennings. It's a mystery."

"Could any of the servants – " began Peter.

"No," interrupted Saxon. "The four servants were having supper in the kitchen. They are innocent. Well, we'll see what the inquest reveals. Something may be found before then likely to elucidate the mystery. But here comes Mallow. He questioned Jennings also, so you can question him if you like. Does mother know?"

"Yes. And she doesn't want the fact of her relationship to your aunt talked about."

Basil understood at once. "No wonder," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "It is not a pleasant affair for a woman of mother's celebrity to be mixed up with."

Meantime, Juliet having heard the ring at the front door, escaped from the room to see her lover. She met him divesting himself of his overcoat in the hall, and ran to him with outstretched hands. "But why have you got on an overcoat this warm day?" she asked.

"I have a cold. I caught one last night," said Cuthbert, kissing her.

"Where were you last night?" asked Juliet, drawing him into a side room. "I thought you were coming to the Marlow Theatre with Basil and me."

"Yes. But my uncle arrived unexpectedly in England and sent for me to his hotel in Guelph street – the Avon Hotel, you know. He will insist on a fire even in June, and the room was so hot that I caught cold when I came out. I had to go down to Rexton to-day on his business, and put on a coat so as to avoid catching further cold. But why this room, Juliet?"

"Father and Basil are in the drawing-room. They are talking of the murder, and I don't want to hear any more about it."

"There are pleasanter things to talk about," said Mallow. "I knew Basil would come crammed with news. Has he told you – "

"He told us everything he could gather from the detective. It seems that the crime is quite a mystery."

"Quite. Why your aunt should be killed, or how the assassin escaped, after killing her, cannot be discovered. Jennings is in high glee about it. He loves a puzzle of this sort."

"Do you know him?" asked Juliet anxiously.

"Oh, yes. Jennings is a gentleman. He was at Eton with me. But he ran through his money and took up the detective business. He is very clever, and if anyone will learn the truth, he will. Now, my theory – "

Juliet put her hand over his mouth. "Don't," she said. "I have had enough horrors for this afternoon. Let us talk of ourselves."

"I would rather do this," said Mallow, and kissed her.

Mallow was a handsome fellow, tall and slim, with a rather military carriage. His face was clean-shaven save for a small straw-colored moustache, which showed up almost white against the bronze of his face. He was more of an athlete than a student, and this was one reason why Juliet was fond of him. She had seen so much of literary circles that she always vowed she would marry a man who never opened a book. Cuthbert nearly fulfilled this requirement, as he read little, save novels and newspapers. He was well known in sporting circles, and having a good private income, owned race-horses. He was always irreproachably dressed, good-humored and cheerful. Consequently he was popular, and if not overburdened with brains, managed to make himself agreeable to the world, and to have what the Americans call "a good time." He had travelled much and was fond of big-game shooting. To complete his characterization, it is necessary to mention that he had served in the Boer War, and had gained a D.S.O. But that was in the days before he met Juliet or he might not have risked a life so precious to her.