CHAPTER XIX
CAPTAIN JESSOP
Apparently Matilda Junk was quite ignorant of anything being wrong abouther ladies, although she did shirk the question regarding their possiblevisit to London in July. However, Hurd had learned that Grexon Hay notonly was an old friend, but had been engaged to Maud for many months.This information made him the more certain that Hay had robbed Beecot ofthe opal brooch at the time of the accident, and that it had passed fromMr. Hay's hands into those of the assassin.
"I wonder if Mrs. Krill murdered her husband in that cruel way," thoughtthe detective, sitting over his tea; "but what could have been herobject? She could have gone up on learning from Hay that Aaron Normanwas her husband--as I believe she did--and could then have made him giveher the money, by threatening him with the murder of Lady Rachel. Idaresay Aaron Norman in his Krill days did strangle that lady to get theopal brooch and his wife could have used what she knew to govern him.There was no need of murder. Hum! I'll see about getting the truth outof Hay. Aurora," he cried. "Oh, there you are," he added, as she enteredthe room. "I want you to go back to town this night."
"What for, Billy?"
"Can you get Hay into trouble?"
Aurora nodded. "I have proofs of his cheating Lord George and others,if that's what you mean," she said; "but you didn't want them used."
"Nor do I. He's such an eel, he may wriggle out of our clutches. Butcan't you give a party and invite Lord George and Hay, and then get themto play cards. Should Hay cheat, denounce him to George Sandal."
"What good would that do?" asked Miss Qian, with widely open eyes.
"It will make Hay confess about the brooch to save himself from publicshame. His reputation is his life, remember, and if he is caughtred-handed cheating, he'll have to clear out of town."
"Pooh, as if that mattered. He's going to marry Miss Krill."
"If Miss Krill keeps the money, and I doubt if she will."
"But, Billy--"
"Never mind. Don't ask me any more questions, but go and pack. ThisCaptain Jessop is in the bar drinking. I may probably have to arresthim. I got a warrant on the chance of finding him here. I can arrest himon suspicion, and won't let him go until I get at the truth. Yourbusiness is to bring Hay to his knees and get the truth out of him aboutthe opal serpent. You know the case?"
"Yes," grumbled Aurora, "I know the case. But I don't like this longjourney to-night."
"Every moment is precious. If I arrest Jessop, Matilda Junk will tellher ladies, who will speak to Hay, and then he may slip away. As thebrooch evidence is so particular, and, as I believe he can give it, ifforced, you can see the importance of losing no time."
Miss Qian nodded and went away to pack. She wanted money and knew Billywould give her a goodly share of the reward. In a few minutes Miss Junk,of "The Red Pig," learned that Miss Qian was suddenly summoned to townand would leave in an hour. Quite unsuspectingly she assisted her topack, and shortly Aurora was driving in a hired vehicle to the railwaystation on her way to trap Grexon Hay.
When she was safely off the premises, Hurd walked to the telegraphoffice, and sent a cipher message to the Yard, asking for a couple ofplain clothes policemen to be sent down. He wanted to have Hokar andMiss Matilda Junk watched, also the house, in case Mrs. Krill and herdaughter should return. Captain Jessop he proposed to look afterhimself. But he was in no hurry to make that gentleman's acquaintance,as he intended to arrest him quietly in the sitting-room after dinner.Already he had informed Matilda that he would ask a gentleman to joinhim at the meal and taste Hokar's curry.
The thought of the curry brought the Indian to his mind, and when he gotback to the Red Pig, he strolled round the house, inspecting the place,but in reality keeping eyes and ears open to talk to the Hindoo.Thinking he might meet the man some time, Hurd had carefully learned afew phrases relating to Thuggism--in English of course, since he knewnothing of the Indian tongues. These he proposed to use in the course ofconversation with Hokar and watch the effect. Soon he found the mansitting cross-legged under a tree in the yard, smoking. Evidently hiswork for the day was over, and he was enjoying himself. Remembering thedescription given by Bart, the detective saw that this was the very manwho had entered the shop of Aaron Norman. He wore the same dress andlooked dirty and disreputable--quite a waif and a stray.
"Hullo," said Hurd, casually, "what are you doing. Talk English, eh?"
"Yes, sir," said Hokar, calmly. "I spike good Englis. Missionary teachHokar Englis."
"I'm glad of that; we can have a chat," said Hurd, producing his pipe.He also produced something else with which he had provided himself onthe way back from the post-office. In another minute Hokar was staringat a small parcel of coarse brown sugar. With all his Oriental phlegmthe man could not keep his countenance. His eyes rolled until theythreatened to drop out of his head, and he looked at Hurd with a certainamount of fear. "Goor," said that gentleman, pointing to the sugar withthe stem of his pipe, "goor!"
Hokar turned green under his dark skin, and half-rose to go away, buthis legs failed him, and he sat still trying to recover himself. "So youworship Bhowanee?" went on his tormentor.
The Indian's face expressed lively curiosity. "The great goddess."
"Yes. Kalee, you know. Did you make Tupounee after you used your roomalon Aaron Norman?"
Hokar gave a guttural cry and gasped. Tupounee is the sacrifice made bythe Thugs after a successful crime, and roomal the handkerchief withwhich they strangled their victims. All this was information culled fromColonel Meadow Taylor's book by the accomplished detective. "Well," saidHurd, smoking placidly, "what have you to say, Mr. Hokar?"
"I know nozzin'," said the man, sullenly, but in deadly fear.
"Yes, you do. Sit still," said Hurd, with sudden sternness. "If you tryto run away, I'll have you arrested. Eyes are on you, and you can't takea step without my knowing."
Some of this was Greek to the Indian, owing to his imperfect knowledgeof English. But he understood that the law would lay hold of him if hedid not obey this Sahib, and so sat still. "I know not anysing," herepeated, his teeth chattering.
"Yes, you do. You're a Thug."
"Zer no Thug."
"I agree with you," said Hurd; "you are the last of the Mohicans. I wantto know why you offered Aaron Norman to Bhowanee?"
Hokar made a strange sign on his forehead at the mention of the sacredname, and muttered something--perhaps a prayer--in his native tongue.Then he looked up. "I know nozzing."
"Don't repeat that rubbish," said Hurd, calmly; "you sold boot laces inthe shop in Gwynne Street on the day when its master was killed. And hewas the husband of the lady who helped you--Mrs. Krill."
"You say dat," said Hokar, stolidly.
"Yes, and I can prove it. The boy Tray--and I can lay my hands onhim--saw you, also Bart Tawsey, the shopman. You left a handful ofsugar, though why you did so instead of eating it, I can't understand."
Hokar's face lighted up, and he showed his teeth disdainfully. "Oh, youSahibs know nozzin'!" said he, spreading out his lean brown hands. "Zeshops--ah, yis. I there, yis. But I use no roomal."
"Not then, but you did later."
Hokar shook his head. "I use no roomal. Zat Sahib one eye--bad, ver bad.Bhowanee, no have one eye. No Bhungees, no Bhats, no--"
"What are you talking about?" said Hurd, angrily. His reading had nottold him that no maimed persons could be offered to the goddess of theThugs. Bhungees meant sweepers, and Bhats bards, both of which classeswere spared by the stranglers. "You killed that man. Now, who told youto kill him?"
"I know nozzin', I no kill. Bhowanee no take one-eye mans."
For want of an interpreter Hurd found it difficult to carry on theconversation. He rose and determined to postpone further examinationtill he would get someone who understood the Hindoo tongue. But in themeantime Hokar might run away, and Hurd rather regretted that he hadbeen so precipitate. However, he nodded to the man and went off, prettysure he would not fly at once.
Th
en Hurd went to the village police-office, and told a bucolicconstable to keep his eye on Miss Junk's "fureiner," as he learned Hokarwas called. The policeman, a smooth-faced individual, promised to do so,after Hurd produced his credentials, and sauntered towards "The RedPig," at some distance from the detective's heels. A timely questionabout the curry revealed, by the mouth of Miss Junk, that Hokar wasstill in the kitchen. "But he do seem alarmed-like," said Matilda,laying the cloth.
"Let's hope he won't spoil the curry," remarked Hurd. Then, knowingHokar was safe, he went into the bar to make the acquaintance of hisother victim.
Captain Jarvey Jessop quite answered to the description given by Pash.He was large and sailor-like, with red hair mixed with grey and a redbeard that scarcely concealed the scar running from temple to mouth. Hehad drunk enough to make him cheerful and was quite willing to fall intoconversation with Hurd, who explained himself unnecessarily. "I'm acommercial gent," said the detective, calling for two rums, plain, "andI like talking."
"Me, too," growled the sailor, grasping his glass. "I'm here on whatyou'd call a visit, but I go back to my home to-morrow. Then it's ho forCallao," he shouted in a sing-song voice.
Hurd knew the fierce old chanty and sized Captain Jarvey up at once. Hewas of the buccaneer type, and there was little he would not do to makemoney and have a roaring time. Failing Hokar, with his deadlyhandkerchief, here was the man who might have killed Aaron Norman."Drink up," shouted Hurd in his turn, "we'll have some more.
"On no condition, is extradition, Allowed in Callao."
"Gum," said Captain Jessop, "you know the chanty."
Hurd winked. "I've bin round about in my time."
Jessop stretched out a huge hand. "Put it there, mate," said he, with aroar like a fog-horn, "and drink up along o' me. My treat."
Hurd nodded and became jovial. "On condition you join me at dinner. Theymake good curries here."
"I've had curry," said Captain Jessop, heavily, "in Colombo andHong-Kong frequent, but Hokar's curries are the best."
"Ah!" said Hurd in a friendly curious way, "so you know this shanty?"
Jessop looked at him with contempt. "Know this shanty," said he, with agrin, "why, in coorse, I do. I've been swinging my hammock here time inand out for the last thirty year."
"You'll be a Christchurch man, then?"
"Not me, mate. I'm Buckinghamshire. Stowley born."
Hurd with difficulty suppressed a start. Stowley was the place where theall-important brooch had been pawned by a nautical man, and here was theman in question. "I should have thought you'd lived near the sea," hesaid cautiously, "say Southampton."
"Oh, I used t'go there for my ship," said the captain, draining hisglass, "but I don't go there no more."
"Retired, eh?"
Jessop nodded and looked at his friend--as he considered Hurd, since theinvitation to dinner--with a blood-shot pair of eyes. "Come storm, comecalm," he growled, "I've sailed the ocean for forty years. Yes, sir,you bet. I was a slip of a fifteen cabin-boy on my first cruise, andthen I got on to being skipper. Lord," Jessop smacked his knee, "thethings I've seen!"
"We'll have them to-night after dinner," said Hurd, nodding; "but now, Isuppose, you've made your fortune."
"No," said the captain, gloomily, "not what you'd call money. I've got astand-by, though," and he winked.
"Ah! Married to a rich wife?"
"Not me. I've had enough of marriage, having been the skipper of amermaid with a tongue. No, sir," he roared out another line of some songfloating in his muzzy head, "a saucy bachelor am I," then changed togruff talk, "and I intends being one all my days. Stand-by, Ihave--t'ain't a wife, but I can draw the money regular, and no questionsasked." Again he winked and drank another glass.
Hurd reflected that perhaps Jessop had killed Aaron Norman for Mrs.Krill, and she was paying him blood-money. But he did not dare to pressthe question, as Jessop was coming perilously near what the Irish call"the cross drop." He therefore proposed an adjournment to thesitting-room. Jessop agreed quite unsuspectingly, not guessing he wasbeing trapped. The man was so large and uncouth that Hurd felt behindhis waist to see that his revolver was loose and could be used shouldoccasion arise.
Miss Junk brought in the dinner with her own fair hands, and explainedthat Hokar had made the curry, but she didn't think it was as good asusual. "The man's shakin' like a jelly," said Matilda. "I don't knowwhy."
The detective nodded, but did not encourage conversation. He was quitesure that Hokar was being watched by the smooth-faced policeman, andcould not get away. Besides, he wished to talk to Captain Jessop. MissJunk, seeing that she was not needed, retreated, after bringing in thecurry, and left the gentlemen to help themselves. So here was Hurd in apleasant room, seated before a well-spread table, and with a roaringfire at his back, waiting his opportunity to make Captain Jarvey Jessopconfess his share in the dual murders of Lady Rachel Sandal and AaronNorman.