CHAPTER X
A BOLT FROM THE BLUE
Paul's reason for advertising the name of Lemuel Krill was a verynatural one. He believed that in the past of the dead man was to befound his reason for changing his name and living in Gwynne Street. Andin that past before he became a second-hand bookseller and a secretpawnbroker might be found the motive for the crime. Therefore, if areward was offered for the discovery of the murderer of Lemuel Krill,_alias_ Aaron Norman, something might come to light relative to theman's early life. Once that was known, the clue might be obtained. Thenthe truth would surely be discovered. He explained this to Hurd.
"I think you're right, Mr. Beecot," said the detective, in his genialway, and looking as brown as a coffee bean. "I have made inquiries fromthe two servants, and from the neighbors, and from what customers Icould find. Aaron Norman certainly lived a very quiet and respectablelife here. But Lemuel Krill may have lived a very different one, and themere fact that he changed his name shows that he had something toconceal. When we learn that something we may arrive at the motive forthe murder, and, given that, the assassin may be caught."
"The assassin!" echoed Paul. "Then you think there was only one."
Hurd shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows?" he said. "I speak generally.From the strange circumstances of the crime I am inclined to think thatthere is more than one person concerned in this matter. However, thebest thing to be done is to have hand-bills printed offering the fivehundred pounds reward. People will do a lot to earn so much money, andsomeone may come forward with details about Mr. Krill which will solvethe mystery of Norman's death."
"I hope you will gain the reward yourself, Hurd."
The detective nodded. "I hope so too. I have lately married the sweetestlittle wife in the world, and I want to keep her in the way she has beenaccustomed to be kept. She married beneath her, as I'm only athief-catcher, and no very famous one either."
"But if you solve this mystery it will do you a lot of good."
"That it will," agreed Billy, heartily, "and it will mean advancementand extra screw: besides the reward if I can get it. You may be verysure, Mr. Beecot, that I'll do my best. Oh, by the way," he added, "haveyou heard that Mr. Pash is being asked for many of those jewels?"
"No. Who are asking for them? Not that nautical man?"
Hurd shook his head. "He's not such a fool," said he. "No! But thepeople who pledged the jewels are getting them back--redeeming them, infact. Pash is doing all the business thoroughly well, and will keep whatjewels remain for the time allowed by law, so that all those who wish toredeem them can do so. If not, they can be sold, and that will mean moremoney to Miss Norman--by the way, I presume she intends to remain MissNorman."
"Until I make her Mrs. Beecot," said Paul, smiling.
"Well," replied Hurd, very heartily, "I trust you will both be happy. Ithink Miss Norman will get a good husband in you, and you will gain thesweetest wife in the world bar one."
"Everyone thinks his own crow the whitest," laughed Beecot. "But nowthat business is ended and you know what you are to do, will you tell meplainly why you warned me against Grexon Hay?"
"Hum," said the detective, looking at Paul with keen eyes, "what do youknow about him, sir?"
Beecot detailed his early friendship with Hay at Torrington, and thenrelated the meeting in Oxford Street. "And so far as I have seen," addedPaul, justly, "there's nothing about the man to make me think he is abad lot."
"It is natural you should think well of him as you know no wrong, Mr.Beecot. All the same, Grexon Hay is a man on the market."
"You made use of that expression before. What does it mean?"
"Ask Mr. Hay. He can explain best."
"I did ask him, and he said it meant a man who was on the marriagemarket."
Hurd laughed. "Very ingenious and untrue."
"Untrue!"
"Certainly. Mr. Hay knows better than that. If that were all he wouldn'tthink a working man would warn anyone against him."
"He guessed you were not a working man," said Paul, "and intimated thathe had a _liaison_ with a married woman, and that the husband had setyou to watch."
"Wrong again. My interest in Mr. Hay doesn't spring from divorceproceedings. He paints himself blacker than he is in that respect, Mr.Beecot. My gentleman is too selfish to love, and too cautious to commithimself to a divorce case where there would be a chance of damages. No!He's simply a man on the market, and what that is no one knows betterthan he does."
"Well, I am ignorant."
"You shall be enlightened, sir, and I hope what I tell you will lead youto drop this gentleman's acquaintance, especially now that you will be arich man through your promised wife."
"Miss Norman's money is her own," said Paul, with a quick flush. "Idon't propose to live on what she inherits."
"Of course not, because you are an honorable man. But I'll lay anythingyou like that Mr. Hay won't have your scruples, and as soon as he findsyour wife is rich he'll try and get money from her through you."
"He'll fail then," rejoined Beecot, calmly. "I am not up to your Londonways, perhaps, but I am not quite such a fool. Perhaps you willenlighten me as you say."
Hurd nodded and caught his smooth chin with his finger and thumb. "A manon the market," he explained slowly, "is a social highwayman."
"I am still in the dark, Hurd."
"Well, to be more particular, Hay is one of those well-dressedblackguards who live on mugs. He has no money--"
"I beg your pardon, he told me himself that his uncle had left him athousand a year."
"Pooh, he might as well have doubled the sum and increased the value ofthe lie. He hasn't a penny. What he did have, he got through prettyquickly in order to buy his experience. Now that he is hard up hepractises on others what was practised on himself. Hay is well-bred,good-looking, well-dressed and plausible. He has well-furnished roomsand keeps a valet. He goes into rather shady society, as decent people,having found him out, won't have anything to do with him. But he is acard-sharper and a fraudulent company-promoter. He'll borrow money fromany juggins who is ass enough to lend it to him. He haunts Piccadilly,Bond Street and the Burlington Arcade, and is always smart, and bland,and fascinating. If he sees a likely victim he makes his acquaintance ina hundred ways, and then proceeds to fleece him. In a word, Mr. Beecot,you may put it that Mr. Hay is Captain Hawk, and those he swindles arepigeons."
Paul was quite startled by this revelation, and it was painful to hearit of an old school friend. "He does not look like a man of that sort,"he remonstrated.
"It's not his business to look like a man of that sort," rejoined thedetective. "He masks his batteries. All the same he is one of the mostdangerous men on the market at the present in town. A young peer whom heplucked two years ago lost everything to him, and got into trouble oversome woman. It was a nasty case and Hay was mixed up in it. Therelatives of the victim--I needn't give his title--asked me to putthings right. I got the young nobleman away, and he is now travelling toacquire the sense he so sadly needed. I have given Mr. Hay a warningonce or twice, and he knows that he is being watched by us. When heslips, as he is bound to do, sooner or later, then he'll have to dealwith me. Oh I know how he hunts for clients in fashionable hotels, smartrestaurants, theatres and such-like places. He is clever, and althoughhe has fleeced several lambs since he plucked the pigeon I saved, hehas, as yet, been too clever to be caught. When I saw you with him, Mr.Beecot, I thought it just as well to put you on your guard."
"I fear he'll get little out of me," said Paul. "I am too poor."
"You are rich now through your promised wife, and Hay will find it out."
"I repeat that Miss Norman's money has nothing to do with me. And I maymention that as soon as the case is in your hands, Mr. Hurd--"
"Which it is now," interpolated the detective.
"I intend to marry Miss Norman and then we will travel for a time."
"That's very wise of you. Give Hay a wide berth. Of course, if you meethim, you need
n't tell him what I have told you. But when he tries tocome Captain Hawk over you, be on your guard."
"I shall, and thanks for the warning."
So the two parted. Hurd went away to have the bills printed, and Paulreturned to Gwynne Street to arrange with Sylvia about their earlymarriage. Deborah was in the seventh heaven of delight that her youngmistress would soon be in a safe haven and enjoy the protection of anhonorable man. Knowing that she would soon be relieved from care, shetold Bart Tawsey that they would be married at the same time as theyoung couple, and that the laundry would be started as soon as Mr. andMrs. Beecot left for the Continent. Bart, of course, agreed--he alwaysdid agree with Deborah--and so everything was nicely arranged.
Meanwhile Pash worked to prove the will, pay the death-duties, and toplace Sylvia in full possession of her property. He found in one of thesafes the certificate of the girl's birth, and also the marriagecertificate of Aaron Norman in the name of Lemuel Krill. The manevidently had his doubts of the marriage being a legal one if contractedunder his _alias_. He had married Lillian Garner, who was described as aspinster. But who she was and where she came from, and what her positionin life might be could not be discovered. Krill was married in a quietcity church, and Pash, having searched, found everything in order. Mrs.Krill--or Norman as she was known--lived only a year or two after hermarriage, and then died, leaving Sylvia to the care of her husband.There were several nurses in succession, until Deborah grew old enoughto attend alone on her young mistress. Then Norman dismissed the nurse,and Deborah had been Sylvia's slave and Aaron's servant until the tragichour of his death. So, everything being in order, there was nodifficulty in placing Sylvia in possession of her property.
Pash was engaged in this congenial work for several weeks, and duringthat time all went smoothly. Paul paid daily visits to the Gwynne Streethouse, which was to be vacated as soon as he made Sylvia his wife.Deborah searched for her laundry and obtained the premises she wanted ata moderate rental. Sylvia basked in the sunshine of her future husband'slove, and Hurd hunted for the assassin of the late Mr. Norman withoutsuccess. The hand-bills with his portrait and real name, and adescription of the circumstances of his death, were scattered broadcastover the country from Land's End to John-O'Groats, but hitherto no onehad applied for the reward. The name of Krill seemed to be a rare one,and the dead man apparently had no relatives, for no one took theslightest interest in the bills beyond envying the lucky person whowould gain the large reward offered for the conviction of the murderer.
Then, one day Deborah, while cleaning out the cellar, found a piece ofpaper which had slipped down behind one of the safes. These had not beenremoved for many years, and the paper, apparently placed carelessly ontop, had accidentally dropped behind. Deborah, always thinking somethingmight reveal the past to Sylvia and afford a clue to the assassin,brought the paper to her mistress. It proved to be a few lines of aletter, commenced but never finished. But the few lines were of deepinterest.
"My dear daughter," these ran, "when I die you will find that I marriedyour mother under the name of Lemuel Krill. That is my real name, but Iwish you to continue to call yourself Norman for necessary reasons. Ifthe name of Krill gets into the papers there will be great trouble. Keepit from the public. I can tell you where to find the reasons for this asI have written--" Here the letter ended abruptly without any signature.Norman apparently was writing it when interrupted, and had placed itunfinished on the top of the safe, whence it had fallen behind to bediscovered by Deborah. And now it had strangely come to light, but toolate for the request to be carried out.
"Oh, Paul," said Sylvia, in dismay, when they read this together, "andthe bills are already published with the real name of my father."
"It is unfortunate," admitted Paul, frowning. "But, after all, yourfather may have been troubled unnecessarily. For over the fortnight thebills have been out and no one seems to take an interest in the matter."
"But I think we ought to call the bills in," said Sylvia, uneasily.
"That's not such an easy matter. They are scattered broadcast, and itwill be next to impossible to collect them. Besides, the mischief isdone. Everyone knows by this time that Aaron Norman is Lemuel Krill, sothe trouble whatever it may be, must come."
"What can it be?" asked the girl anxiously.
Paul shook his head. "Heaven only knows," said he, with a heavy heart."There is certainly something in your father's past life which he didnot wish known and which led to his death. But since the blow has fallenand he is gone, I do not see how the matter can affect you, my darling.I'll show this to Pash and see what he says. I expect he knows moreabout your father's past than he will admit."
"But if there should be trouble, Paul--"
"You will have me to take it off your shoulders," he replied, kissingher. "My dearest, do not look so pale. Whatever may happen you willalways have me to stand by you. And Deborah also. She is worth aregiment in her fidelity."
So Sylvia was comforted, and Paul, putting the unfinished letter in hispocket, went round to see Pash in his Chancery Lane office. He wasstopped in the outer room by a saucy urchin with an impudent face and abold manner. "Mr. Pash is engaged," said this official, "so you'll 'aveto wait, Mr. Beecot."
Paul looked down at the brat, who was curly-headed and as sharp as aneedle. "How do you know my name?" he asked. "I never saw you before."
"I'm the new office-boy," said the urchin, "wishin' to be respectableand leave street-'awking, which ain't what it was. M'name's Tray, an'I've seen you afore, mister. I 'elped to pull you out from them wheelswith the 'aughty gent as guv me a bob fur doin' it."
"Oh, so you helped," said Paul, smiling. "Well, here is anothershilling. I am much obliged to you, Master Tray. But from what DeborahJunk says you were a guttersnipe. How did you get this post?"
"I talked m'self int' it," said Tray, importantly. "Newspapers ain'tgood enough, and you gets pains in wet weather. So I turns a goodboy"--he grinned evilly--"and goes to a ragged kids' school to do the'oly. The superintendent ses I'm a promising case, and he arsked Mr.Pash, as is also Sunday inclined, to 'elp me. The orfice-boy 'ere went,and I come." Tray tossed the shilling and spat on it for luck as heslipped it into the pocket of quite a respectable pair of trousers. "SoI'm on m'waiy to bein' Lord Mayor turn agin Wittington, as they ses inthe panymine."
"Well," said Beecot, amused, "I hope you will prove yourself worthy."
Tray winked. "Ho! I'm straight es long es it's wuth m'while. I takesm'sal'ry 'ome to gran, and don't plaiy pitch an' torse n'more." Hewinked again, and looked as wicked a brat as ever walked.
Paul had his doubts as to what the outcome of Mr. Pash's charity wouldbe, and, being amused, was about to pursue the conversation, when theinner door opened and Pash, looking troubled, appeared. When he saw Paulhe started and came forward.
"I was just about to send Tray for you," said he, looking anxious."Something unpleasant has come to light in connection with Krill."
Beecot started and brought out the scrap of paper. "Look at that," hesaid, "and you will see that the man warned Sylvia."
Pash glanced hurriedly over the paper. "Most unfortunate," he said,folding it up and puffing out his cheeks; "but it's too late. The nameof Krill was in those printed bills--a portrait also, and now--"
"Well, what?" asked Paul, seeing the lawyer hesitated.
"Come inside and you'll see," said Pash, and conducted Beecot into theinner room.
Here sat two ladies. The elder was a woman of over fifty, but who lookedyounger, owing to her fresh complexion and plump figure. She had a firmface, with hard blue eyes and a rather full-lipped mouth. Her hair waswhite, and there was a great deal of it. Under a widow's cap it wasdressed _a la_ Marie Antoinette, and she looked very handsome in afull-blown, flowery way. She had firm, white hands, rather large, and,as she had removed her black gloves, these, Paul saw, were covered withcheap rings. Altogether a respectable, well-dressed widow, but evidentlynot a lady.
Nor was the girl beside her, who r
evealed sufficient similarity offeatures to announce herself the daughter of the widow. There was thesame fresh complexion, full red lips and hard blue eyes. But the hairwas of a golden color, and fashionably dressed. The young woman--shelikewise was not a lady--was also in black.
"This," said Pash, indicating the elder woman, who smiled, "is Mrs.Lemuel Krill."
"The wife of the man who called himself Aaron Norman," went on thewidow; "and this," she indicated her daughter, "is his heiress."