from Reading to view the spot where Nelly had been found,and in addition to the local detectives, Inspector Swayne, a well-knownofficer from Scotland Yard, had been sent down to direct the inquiries.
At the inquest, held at the King's Head, two days later, it was expectedby everybody that some interesting facts would be brought to light.Erle Brooker had never troubled to earn the good will of his neighbours,therefore they were now spitefully eager for any scandal that might beelicited, and long before the hour for which the jury had been summoned,congregated around the village inn. It was known that on the dayfollowing the tragedy the Captain had paid a mysterious visit to London,and the object of this trip had been a subject of much discussioneverywhere. The murder of his adopted daughter had been a terrible blowto him, and when seen on his way to the station it was noticed that hisface, usually smiling and good-humoured, wore a heavy, preoccupied look.
As he walked with Liane from his cottage to the inn, the crowd, gapingand hushed, opened a way for them to pass in; then, when they hadentered, there was an outburst of sympathy and sneers, many of thelatter reaching the ears of George Stratfield when, a few moments later,he followed them.
After a long wait, the Coroner at length took his seat, the jury wereduly sworn, and the witnesses, ordered out of the crowded room, wereushered into a small ante-room, the table of which had recently beenpolished with stale beer. Here Liane introduced her lover to herfather, and the men exchanged greetings. George, however, did not failto notice the rustiness of the Captain's shabby frock-coat, nor the factthat his black trousers were shiny at the knees; yet as they graspedhands, the ring of genuine bonhomie about his voice favourably impressedhim. By his tone and manner George instinctively knew that ErleBrooker, the man against whom his dead father entertained such anintense dislike, was a gentleman.
"Our meeting is in very tragic circumstances, Mr Stratfield," theCaptain observed huskily, his grave face unusually pale. "They told methat you had discovered poor Nelly, but I had not the pleasure of youracquaintance, although I had, of course, heard of you often from thevillagers."
Liane and George looked at one another significantly.
"I must regret your sad bereavement, and both you and Liane have mysincerest sympathy," the young man answered.
The Captain glanced quickly at the Baronet's son with a strange, puzzledexpression. He had spoken of his daughter familiarly by her Christianname, and evidently knew her well. He had not before suspected this.
At that moment, however, the door opened, and a constable putting hishead inside called his name. In obedience to the policeman's request herose and followed him into the room wherein the court of inquiry hadassembled. Having advanced to the table and been sworn, the Coroneraddressing him, said,--
"Your name is Captain Erle Brooker, late of the Guards, I believe?"
"Yes."
"And you identify the body of the deceased. Who was she?"
"Helen Mary Bridson, daughter of a brother officer, Captain Bridson.She was left an orphan eleven years ago, and I brought her up."
"Did her father die in London?"
"No, on the Continent."
"Had she no relatives on her mother's side?"
The Captain slowly stroked his moustache, then answered.
"I knew of none."
"Were you acquainted with her mother?"
"No, I was not," he replied after a moment's reflection.
"And you have no suggestion to make, I suppose, regarding any person whomight have entertained ill-will towards the unfortunate girl?" inquiredthe grey-haired Coroner.
"None whatever."
"When did you last see her alive?"
"On Monday evening, when she accompanied a visitor to the station to seehim off on his return to London. She rode her cycle, and announced herintention of going on to Burghfield to make a purchase. She was foundlater on," he added, hoarsely.
"Who was this visitor? What was his name?"
"He was a friend, but I decline to give his name publicly," the Captainreplied firmly. "I will, however, write it for your information, if youdesire," and taking a pencil from his pocket he wrote the name of PrinceZertho d'Auzac and handed it to the Coroner.
The eager onlookers were disappointed. They had expected somesensational developments, but it seemed as though the crime was tooenshrouded in mystery to prove of any very real interest. They did not,however, fail to notice that when the Coroner read what the Captain hadwritten, an expression of astonishment crossed his face.
"Are you certain that the--this gentleman--left by the train he went tocatch?" he asked.
"Quite," answered Brooker. "Not only have the police made inquiry at myinstigation, but I have also accompanied a detective to London, where wefound my visitor. Inspector Swayne, as a result of his investigations,was entirely satisfied."
"Had the unfortunate young lady any admirer?"
"I think not."
"Then you can tell us absolutely nothing further?" observed the Coroner,toying with his quill.
"Unfortunately I cannot."
The Captain, after signing his depositions, was directed to one of a rowof empty chairs near the Coroner's table, and his daughter was called.
Liane, pale and nervous, neatly dressed in black, entered quietly,removed her right glove, and took the oath. Having given her name, theCoroner asked,--
"When did you last see the deceased, Miss Brooker?"
"When she set out to go to the railway station," she answered, in a lowfaltering voice.
"Have you any idea why she should have gone to Cross Lane? It wasentirely out of her way home from Burghfield to Stratfield Mortimer, wasit not?"
"I cannot tell," Liane replied. "We went along that road on our cyclesonly on one occasion, and found it so rough that we agreed never toattempt it again."
"I presume, Miss Brooker, that the deceased was your most intimatefriend?" observed the Coroner. "She would therefore be likely to tellyou if she had a lover. Were you aware of the existence of any suchperson?"
"No," she replied, flushing slightly and glancing slowly around the hot,crowded room.
"You had a visitor whose name your father has just given me upon thispaper," observed the Coroner. "Was that visitor known to the deceased?"
The eyes of the father and daughter met for a single instant as sheglanced around upon the long lines of expectant countenances.
"Oh, yes," she replied. "The gentleman who came unexpectedly to see ushas been known to us all for fully five or six years."
"And has always been very friendly towards the unfortunate girl?"
"Always."
"The only thing taken from the young lady appears to have been a diamondbrooch. Do you know anything of it?"
"Of what?" gasped Liane nervously, her face paling almost imperceptiblybehind her black veil.
"Of the brooch, of course."
"I only know that she prized it very much, as it was a present from agentleman she had met while on the Riviera eighteen months ago."
"He was not her lover?" inquired the grave-faced man, without looking upfrom the sheet of blue foolscap whereon he was writing her statement.
"Not exactly. I have no knowledge of her possessing any admirer."
The Coroner at last paused and put down his quill. "And this miniature,which was discovered beside the body, have you ever before seen it inthe possession of the deceased?" he asked, holding it up to her gaze.
"No," she answered. "Never."
The jury not desiring to ask any questions, Liane was then allowed toretire to a chair next her father, and the doctor was called.
"Will you kindly tell us the result of the _post mortem_, Dr Lewis?" theCoroner requested, when the medical man had been sworn.
At once the doctor explained in technical language the injuries he haddiscovered, and described the exact position in which he had found thebody when he reached the spot.
"And what, in your opinion, was the cause of death?" asked the Corone
rin dry, business-like tones.
"She was shot at close quarters while ascending the incline leading fromthe railway arch towards Stratfield Mortimer. The weapon used was anArmy revolver. I produce the bullet I have extracted," he answered,taking it from his vest-pocket and handing it across the table. "Thedeceased's assailant stood on her left-hand side, and must have shot heras she rode along. She evidently mounted her cycle at the commencementof the incline, and having run down swiftly and passed beneath the arch,was again descending when the shot was fired."
"Was death instantaneous?" inquired the foreman of the jury.
"Scarcely," answered the doctor. "Such a wound must, however,