CHAPTER XXVIII
THE TRUTH
Four o'clock had struck, and the doors of the bank were closed when MissWickham and Viner hurried up to it, but there was a private entrance atthe side, and the man who answered their summons made no difficulty aboutadmitting them when Miss Wickham said who she was. And within a fewminutes they were closeted with a manager, who, surprised when theyentered, was astonished before many words had been exchanged. For duringtheir dash from the Whitechapel streets Viner had coached his companionas to the questions he wished her to put on arrival at the bank, and shewent straight to the point.
"I wanted to know if my companion, Mrs. Killenhall, had called here thisafternoon?" begun Miss Wickham.
"She has," answered the manager. "I happened to see her, and I attendedto her myself."
"Did she present a check from me?" inquired Miss Wickham.
"Certainly--and I cashed it," said the manager. He gave his customerand her companion a look of interrogation which had a good deal ofsurprise in it. "Why?" he continued, glancing at Miss Wickham, "wasn'tit in order?"
"That," replied Miss Wickham, "depends upon the amount."
"The amount!" he exclaimed. "You know--if the drawer! It was for tenthousand pounds!"
"Then Mrs. Killenhall has done me, or you, out of that," said MissWickham. "The check I gave her was to have been filled up for the amountof the usual weekly bills--twenty pounds or so. Ten thousand?Ridiculous!"
"But--it all seemed in order!" exclaimed the concerned manager. "She wasas plausible, and all that--and really, you know, Miss Wickham, we knowher very well--and, in addition to that, you have a very large balancelying here. Mrs. Killenhall merely mentioned that you wanted this amount,in notes, and that she had called for it--and of course, I cashed thecheck--your check, remember!--at once."
"I hadn't filled in the amount," remarked Miss Wickham.
"Mrs. Killenhall had often presented checks bearing your signature inwhich you hadn't filled in the amount," said the manager. "There wasnothing unusual, I assure you, in any detail of the affair."
"The most important detail, now," observed Viner dryly, "is to find Mrs.Killenhall."
The manager, who was obviously filled with amazement at Mrs. Killenhall'saudacity, looked from one to the other of his visitors, as if he couldscarcely credit their suggestion.
"You really mean me to believe that Mrs. Killenhall has got ten thousandpounds out of Miss Wickham by a trick?" he asked, fixing his gaze atlast on Viner.
"What I really mean you to believe," said Viner, rising, "is that arapid series of events this afternoon has proved to me that Mrs.Killenhall is one of a gang who are responsible for the murder of JohnAshton, who stole his diamond and certain papers, and who haveendeavoured, very cleverly, to foist one of their number, a scoundrellyclever actor, on the public, as a peer of the realm who had been missing.Mrs. Killenhall--who has another name--probably got wind of possibledetection about noon today, and took advantage of Miss Wickham's habit ofgiving her a weekly check, to provide herself with ample funds. That'sreally about the truth--and I think Miss Wickham and I had better beseeing the police."
"The very best thing you can do!" responded the manager with alacrity."And take my advice and go straight to headquarters--go to New ScotlandYard. Just think what this woman--and her accomplices--could do! If sheor they had one hour's start of you, they can have already put a gooddistance between themselves and London; they can be halfway to Dover, orHarwich, or Southampton. And therefore--"
"And therefore all the more reason why we should set somebody on theirtrail," interrupted Viner, and hurried Miss Wickham out of the manager'sroom and away to the taxicab which he had purposely kept in waiting. "Idon't think Mrs. Killenhall, or Killerby, or whatever her name is, willhave hurried away as quickly as all that," he remarked as they sped alongtoward Whitehall. "My own idea is that, having got hold of your money,she'll probably have made for the headquarters of this precious gang, sheand they are sure to have one, for I should say the place in Whitechapelwas only an outpost,--and they'll be better able to arrange an escapefrom there than she would to make an immediate flight. She--but what areyou thinking?"
"That I seem to be involved, somehow, in a very strange and curiouscombination of things," answered Miss Wickham.
"Just so!" agreed Viner. "So do I--and I was literally pitchforked intothe very midst of it all by sheer accident. If I hadn't happened to goout for a late stroll on the night on which it began, I should neverhave--but here we are!"
The official of the Criminal Investigation Department with whomthey were shortly closeted, listened carefully and silently toViner's account of all that had happened. He was one of thosenever-to-be-sufficiently-praised individuals who never interrupt andalways understand, and at the close of Viner's story he said exactly whatthe narrator was thinking. "The real truth of all this, Mr. Viner," hesaid, "is that this is probably one of the last chapters in the historyof the Lonsdale Passage murder. For if you find this woman and the menwho are undoubtedly her accomplices, you will most likely have found, inone or other of them, the murderer of John Ashton!"
"Precisely!" agreed Viner. "Precisely!"
The official rose from his seat and turned to the door.
"Drillford, of your nearest police-station, had this case in charge," heremarked. "I'll just call him on the telephone."
He left the room and was away for several minutes; when he returnedthere was something like a smile on his face.
"If you and Miss Wickham will drive along and see Drillford, Mr. Viner,"he said. "I think you'll find he's some news for you."
"Has he told it to you?" demanded Viner.
"Well--just a little," answered the official with another smile. "ButI won't rob him of the pleasure of telling you himself. You ought tobe disappointed. However, I'll just tell you enough to whet yourappetite for more--Drillford is confident that he's just arrested thereal man! No--no more!" he added, with a laugh. "You'll run up therein twenty minutes."
Drillford, cool and confident as ever, was alone in his office when Vinerand his companion were shown in. He looked at Miss Wickham withconsiderable curiosity as he handed her a chair, and Viner noticed thatthe bow he made her was unusually respectful. But he immediately plungedinto the pertinent subject, and turned to Viner with a laugh ofself-deprecation.
"Well, Mr. Viner!" he said. "You were right, and I was wrong. It wasn'tthat young fellow Hyde who killed Mr. Ashton. And now that I know whodid, I don't mind saying that I'm jolly glad that his innocence will beestablished."
"But do you know who did?" asked Viner eagerly.
"I do!" answered Drillford.
"Who, then?" exclaimed Viner.
"He's in the cells at the back, now," said Drillford, "and I only hopehe's not one of those chaps who are so clever that they can secretepoison to the very last moment and then cheat the gallows, for now that Iknow as much as I do, I should say he's as pretty a specimen of theaccomplished scoundrel as ever put on fine clothes. Dr. Cortelyon, ofyour square!"
This sudden and surprising revelation, made in ordinary matter-of-facttones, produced different effects on the two people to whom it was made.Viner, after a start and a smothered exclamation, stared silently atDrillford as if he scarcely comprehended his meaning. But Miss Wickham,with a quick flush which evidently denoted suddenly-awakenedrecollection, broke into words.
"Dr. Cortelyon!" she exclaimed. "Ah--I remember now. Mr. Ashton once toldme, in quite a casual way as we were passing through the square, that hehad known Dr. Cortelyon in Australia, years and years ago!"
Drillford glanced at Viner and smiled.
"I wish you'd remembered that little matter before, Miss Wickham!" hesaid. "It might have saved a lot of trouble. Well--Cortelyon's the man!And it all came about quite suddenly, this afternoon. Through your aunt,Mr. Viner--Miss Penkridge. Smart lady, sir!"
"My aunt!" exclaimed Viner. "Why, how on earth--"
"Some of your gentlemen had a conference with
that fellow Cave at yourhouse, after you left court this morning," said Drillford. "MissPenkridge was present. Cave told more of his cock-and-bull story, andproduced a certain letter which he said had been handed to him at thehotel he'd put up at. All that, and all the stuff he told at thepolice-court, was bluff--carefully concocted by himself and Cortelyon incase Cave was ever put in a tight corner. Now, according to what shetells me, Miss Penkridge immediately spotted something about that letterwhich none of you gentlemen were clever enough to see--"
"I know!" interrupted Viner. "She saw that the envelope and paper hadbeen supplied by Bigglesforth, of Craven Gardens, and that a certainletter in the typewriter which had been used was defective."
"Just so," laughed Drillford, "and so, being, as I say, a smart woman,she went round to Bigglesforth, got him to herself, and made someinquiries. And--it's very queer, Mr. Viner, how some of these apparentlyintricate cases are easily solved by one chance discovery!--she hadn'tbeen talking to Bigglesforth ten minutes before she was on the righttrack. Bigglesforth, when he'd got to know the main features of the case,was willing enough to help, and your aunt immediately brought him roundhere to see me. And I knew at once that we'd got right there!"
"Yes--but how, exactly?" asked Viner.
"Bigglesforth," answered Drillford, "told me that he'd suppliedstationery to Dr. Cortelyon for some time, and he'd no doubt that thepaper and envelope described by Miss Penkridge was some which he'dspecially secured for the Doctor. But he told something far moreimportant: Six months ago Cortelyon went to Bigglesforth and asked him ifhe could get him a good second-hand typewriter. Now, Bigglesforth had avery good one for which he'd no use, and he at once sold it to Cortelyon.Bigglesforth didn't mention the matter to his customer, for the machinewas perfect in all other respects, but one of the letters wasdefective--broken. That was the same letter, Mr. Viner, which wasdefective in the document which Cave showed to you gentlemen and spoke ofpreviously in court!"
"Extraordinary!" muttered Viner. "What a piece of luck!"
"No, sir!" said Drillford, stoutly. "No luck at all--just a bit of goodcommon-sense thinking on the part of a shrewd woman. But you'll want toknow what we did. I was so absolutely certain of the truth of MissPenkridge's theory that I immediately made preparations for a descent onCortelyon's house. I got a number of our best men--detectives, ofcourse--and we went round to Markendale Square, back and front. Inquiryshowed that Cortelyon was out, but we'd scarcely got that factascertained when he drove up in a taxicab with Cave himself. Theyhurriedly entered the house--I myself was watching from a good point ofvantage, and I saw that both men were, to say the least, anxious andexcited. Then I began to make final preparations. But before I'd finishedtelling my men exactly what to do, another party drove up--yourcompanion, Miss Wickham, Mrs. Killenhall. She too entered. Then Imoved--quick. Some of us went to the front--I with the others went in bythe back. We made straight for Cortelyon's surgery, and we were on himand the other two before they'd time to move, literally. The two mencertainly tried to draw revolvers, but we were too many for 'em, and asthey'd tried that game, I had 'em handcuffed there and then. It was allan affair of a moment--and of course, they saw it was all up. Now,equally of course, Mr. Viner, in all these cases, in my experience, thesubordinates immediately try to save their own skins by denouncing theprincipal, and it was so in this instance. Mrs. Killenhall and Cave atonce denounced Cortelyon as the mainspring, and the woman, who's aregular coward, got me aside and offered to turn King's evidence, andwhispered that Cortelyon actually killed Ashton himself, unaided, as helet him out of his back door into Lonsdale Passage!"
"So--that's settled!" exclaimed Viner.
"Yes, I think so," agreed Drillford. "Well, we brought 'em all here, andcharged 'em, and examined 'em. Nothing much on Cave, who, of course, isprecisely what Hyde said he was--a man named Nugent Starr, an oldactor--if he was as good a performer on the stage as he is in privatelife, he ought to have done well. But on Mrs. Killenhall we found tenthousand pounds in Bank of England notes, and one or two letters fromCortelyon, which she was a fool for keeping, for they clearly prove thatshe was an accessory. And on Cortelyon we'd a big find! That diamond thatAshton used to carry about, the other ring that Ashton was wearing whenhe was murdered, and--perhaps most important of all--certain papers whichhe'd no doubt taken from Ashton's body."
"What are they?" demanded Viner.
Drillford glanced at Miss Wickham.
"Well," he said, "I've only just had time to glance at them, but I shouldsay that they affect Miss Wickham in a very surprising fashion, and Ishall be glad to hand them over to her solicitors as soon as they comefor them. They're birth certificates, burial certificates, marriagecertificates, and a complete memorandum of a certain case, evidentlywritten out with great care by Ashton himself. And of course, knowingwhat I do now, it's very clear to me how Ashton's murder came about.Cortelyon knew that if Ashton was out of the way, and he himself inpossession of the papers, he could use some, suppress others, and foistoff an accomplice of his own as claimant to a title which, from what I'veseen, appears without doubt to belong to--"
Drillford was again glancing at Miss Wickham, but Viner contrived to stopany further revelations and got to his feet.
"Extraordinary!" he said. "But--my aunt? Where is she?"
"She remained here until we'd safely caged the birds," answeredDrillford. "Then she said she'd go home. And I suppose you'll findher there."
Viner took his companion away from the police-station in silence. But atthe end of the street Miss Wickham looked back.
"Are those three people really locked up--in cells--close by where wewere sitting with the inspector?" she asked.
"Just so," answered Viner.
"And will they all be hanged?" she whispered.
"I sincerely hope one will!" exclaimed Viner.
"What," she inquired, "did the inspector mean about the papers found onDr. Cortelyon? I have some uneasy feeling that--"
"I think you 'd better wait," said Viner. "There'll have to be somequeer explanations. We must let Mr. Pawle and Mr. Carless know of what'shappened--they're the proper people to deal with this affair."
And then, as they turned into Markendale Square, they saw Mr. Pawle andMr. Carless, who, with Lord Ellingham, were hurrying from Miss Wickham'shouse in the direction of Viner's. Mr. Carless quickened his pace andcame toward them.
"I was so upset when I heard from Perkwite that Miss Wickham has been inthat house in Whitechapel," he said, "that, on learning she'd gone offwith you, Viner, Lord Ellingham and I drove to Pawle's and brought him onhere to learn if she'd got home and what had happened."
"What had happened?" demanded Mr. Pawle. "What is it, Viner?"
Viner gathered them round him with a look.
"This has happened!" he said. "The whole thing's solved. Ashton'smurderer is found, and he and his accomplices are under lock and key.Listen, and I'll tell you all that's been done since one o'clock, uphere--while we've been at the other end of the town. But I'll only giveyou an outline. Well, then--"
The three men listened in dead silence until Viner had repeatedDrillford's story; then Mr. Pawle glanced round at the window ofViner's house.
"Miss Penkridge, by all that's wonderful!" he said in a deep voice. "Mostextraordinary! Where is she?"
"At home, I should imagine," answered Viner with a laugh.
"Then, my dear sir, by all means let us pay our respects to her!" saidMr. Pawle. "A tribute!"
"By all means!" exclaimed Mr. Carless. "A just tribute--richlydeserved!"
"I should like to add my small quota," said Lord Ellingham.
Viner led the way into his house and to the drawing-room. MissPenkridge, in her best cap, was calmly dispensing tea to the two Hydesisters, who were regarding her with obvious admiration. She lookedround on her nephew and the flood of callers as if to ask what most ofthem were doing there. And Viner, knowing Miss Penkridge's peculiarhumour, rose to the occasion.
"My dear aunt," he sa
id in a hushed voice, "these gentlemen, having heardof your extraordinary achievement this afternoon, have come to lay atyour feet their united tribute of--"
Miss Penkridge shot a warning glance through her steel-rimmed spectacles.
"Don't talk nonsense, Richard!" she exclaimed sharply. "Ring the bell formore cups and saucers!"