CHAPTER XIX
PLOTS AND COUNTERPLOTS
On hearing from Tolomeo that Beryl was the guilty person, Durham was notso surprised as he might have been. He had always suspected that Juliuswas in some way connected with the crime, although he had not thoughthim personally guilty. But the story of Guiseppe, and the production ofthe handkerchief marked with Beryl's name seemed to put the matterbeyond doubt. Durham remembered how Conniston had always said that whenthe lost handkerchief was found the assassin would be identified.Apparently his prophecy had come true. Here was the handkerchief, sofortunately picked up by Tolomeo, and it belonged to Julius. AlsoJulius, according to the Italian, had entered the house in Crimea Squareabout the time the murder was supposed to have been committed.
"And there's no doubt that Beryl sent Jerry for Bernard, so that hemight be brought to the spot for accusation," thought the lawyer whenTolomeo had gone. "The whole thing was a plant. I expect he arranged togo to the Curtain Theatre so as to have an _alibi_. But the theatre isnear Crimea Square and it would be easy for Beryl to slip round betweenthe acts. Humph! Evidently he did kill the old man--this handkerchief isproof enough, to say nothing of Tolomeo's evidence. What's to be donenext?"
The question was answered next day while Durham was still puzzling overthe matter. Julius himself made his appearance, as meek-looking and mildas ever. The lawyer received him coldly and was on his guard. It wasdifficult to know why Beryl should pay a visit to an avowed enemy. ButJulius soon explained the reason for his call.
"I have something extremely private to say to you, Mr. Durham," heremarked in a confidential way, and after assuring himselfostentatiously that the door was closed.
"I am not your legal adviser," said Durham, quickly.
"You are Bernard's."
"I _was_ Bernard's, you mean."
"Does that intimate that you have quarrelled with Bernard?"
"You forget," said the solicitor, looking at him sharply. "Bernard issupposed to be dead."
"I don't think you ever believed that," said Beryl, smiling.
"That has nothing to do with you."
"Oh yes, it has. See here, Durham, I wrote to Miss Malleson some timeago, stating that I had seen Bernard in London."
"So I understand," said Durham, calmly. "Why did you not stop him?"
"I was not quick enough. He walked on the other side of the street, andbefore I could cross over, which was difficult on account of thetraffic, Bernard disappeared. Then I was not quite sure if he really wasalive. Now I am."
"Indeed?" said Durham, with a qualm, for he fancied Julius might havelearned of Gore's whereabouts.
"Yes! That young Moon wrote a letter to me saying that Bernard had cometo the Bower, starving and in rags."
It was on the tip of Durham's tongue to say that no doubt Jerry had beenplaced as a spy at the Bower, but he suppressed this remark. He firmlybelieved that Julius was a murderer, but as yet he saw some difficultyin bringing the crime home to him. He thought it would be best to givethe man rope enough to hang himself. In other words, to listen quietlyto what he had to say and act accordingly. Durham did not like havinganything to do with such a scoundrel, but in the interests of Gore hehad to smother all feelings save strictly professional ones. Hetherefore confined himself to silence, and to looking inquiringly atBeryl.
"You don't seem surprised," said Julius, annoyed.
"Because I can hardy believe your statement. Jerry may be making amistake."
"Oh no. I went down on the receipt of his letter, and insisted on seeingmy cousin. Miss Plantagenet--as I knew she would,--denied that he wasthere; but afterwards, when I threatened to bring the police on to thescene, she gave way and let me see Bernard."
"You are sure, then, that Bernard committed the crime?"
"Wait one moment, Mr. Durham," said Beryl, wagging his finger in a mostirritating way. "Let us understand one another clearly. You know, andyou have known for some time, that Bernard was at the Bower?"
"I am not bound to answer that question," said the lawyer, stiffly.
"Bernard answered it for you. He told me you had been to see him, andthat in spite of the change in his looks you knew who he was."
Durham drew figures on his blotting-paper. He wondered if Julius reallybelieved the man at the Bower to be Bernard Gore, or if he was trying tolearn what he--Durham--thought himself. After some reflection the lawyerresolved to accept Michael as the man in question. Julius could notpossibly know that the real Bernard was alive, and therefore it would beas wise to keep the knowledge from him until such time as light wouldcome to show Durham how to move. "Yes," he said at length, throwing downhis pen and taking up a position on the hearth-rug. "I was informed byMiss Plantagenet that Bernard had sought refuge with her, and I wentdown to see him."
"Why did you not tell me?" asked Julius, sharply.
Durham shrugged his shoulders. "By your own showing, seeing you wishedto call in the police, you are not a friend to Bernard," he said. "Whyshould I have summoned you? To assist you to arrest him?"
"I do not wish him to be arrested," said Julius, mildly. "On thecontrary, I wish the poor fellow to die in peace."
"To die--what do you mean?"
"What I say, Mr. Durham. Payne tells me that Bernard has been soexhausted by his wandering when in hiding, that he cannot recover. Hisdeath is only a question of days. Mind you"--Julius wagged his fingeragain--"I really believe he killed Sir Simon, but as he is dying, why, Ishall do nothing. I am not a vindictive man. Besides," added Julius,looking sideways at the lawyer, "Bernard and I are friends now. I amalso friendly with Miss Malleson."
"Indeed! And how did you bring that about?"
"By acting straightforward and honorably, as I always do," said the meekJulius. "Miss Malleson acknowledged to me that Bernard was sadly changedby the hardships he had undergone. All the same she recognized him.Unfortunately, the poor fellow is too feeble to tell her of the perilshe underwent, so she has not had an opportunity of talking much to him."
It struck Durham from this speech that Julius was doubtful of theidentity of Bernard with the man at the Bower. Else why should he makethis remark about Alice not having had time to question the sick man,seeing that Alice alone could prove if he were Bernard or not? Durhamwas perplexed, and wondered what Julius was driving at, and how much heknew. A clue came with the next words.
"And being friends with Bernard," went on Beryl, "he is sorry that wequarrelled. Feeling that he is not long for this world he wants to makehis will in my favor."
Durham nearly uttered an exclamation, for all of a sudden the wholerascally business became clear. Julius knew that the man at the Bowerwas Michael, and he was prepared to extract from him a forged will, inthe hope that the real Bernard was dead. Having made use of Michael tobring about the accusation of Gore, he now used him to the very last toget the money. However, Durham kept his temper under, and pretended tobelieve that Julius was speaking in all good faith. He simply bowed hishead. Every word that Julius said was weaving a rope for his own neck.
"Are you surprised then at my calling?" said Julius, anxiously.
"No," said Durham, returning to his seat. "If Gore wishes to make awill, I suppose I am the man to draw it up. I must go down and receivehis instructions."
"I have them with me," said Julius, bringing out a sealed letter.
Durham, inwardly boiling at this rascality, but outwardly calm, openedthe letter, while Julius kept a sharp look-out on him. He found a longletter, written in the same style as Bernard Gore usually wrote, settingforth directions for the will. These included an income of five hundreda year to Alice Malleson, and the extra allowance of four hundred toMrs. Gilroy, making her income five hundred in all. The rest of theestate, real and personal, went to Julius Beryl. Durham smiled inwardlyas he read this document. It was exactly the kind of will Julius wanted.Michael was simply his instrument, and Durham shrewdly suspected thatfrom some knowledge of the forged check Be
ryl had obtained thisextraordinary influence.
"Well, it seems clear enough," said the lawyer, laying down the letter,"but I think Miss Malleson, seeing what she loses, should have more."
"I think she has quite enough," said Julius, tartly.
"Then Mrs. Gilroy," said Durham, pretending ignorance. "Why shouldBernard leave her this extra money?"
"I can't say. Bernard will probably tell you himself. Will you pleasedraw out the will, Mr. Durham, and bring it down to the Bower for Goreto sign?"
For the sake of appearances Durham went on making objections. All thesewere met by Julius with infernal cleverness, until the lawyer--on theface of it--had not a leg to stand on, as the saying goes. Finally heconsented to draw up the will as instructed by the letter, and agreed tomeet Julius next day at Liverpool Street Station to go down with him tothe Hall. Julius drew a long breath of relief when the lawyer so agreed,and apparently had no idea that he was being tricked all the time.
"I am much obliged to you, Mr. Durham," said he, holding out his hand,"and when I come into possession of the estate you will find me a goodclient."
Durham, for the sake of keeping up the deception, had to shake hands,although he loathed himself for doing so. When the door closed on thearch plotter the solicitor went at once to wash his hands.
"What a complete scoundrel!" said Durham to himself. "And howconfoundedly clever. Of course, if the real Bernard were dead this willmight stand. At all events, even if Miss Malleson could prove thatMichael is not her lover, the new will might lead to litigation.However, as Bernard is alive and well we can produce him at the eleventhhour to frighten Beryl. I am afraid that young man will be hanged afterall, though I am unwilling, for the sake of the family, that thingsshould come to that pass."
However, Durham, true to his appointment, arrived at the station thenext day and had the will in his pocket. Julius read it in the traingoing down and expressed his approval of it. It was now Durham's cue tobehave politely to Julius, and as though he truly believed in him and inthe false Bernard Gore. But on the previous night he had written a longletter to Miss Berengaria, which was to be read to Alice. In it Durhamtold the whole of Beryl's scheme to get possession of the property. Butfor obvious reasons he said nothing of Tolomeo's story or Beryl's realguilt. He thought, very truly, that even Miss Berengaria's nerves couldnot stand being brought into such close relationship with a provenmurderer, let alone that Alice might reveal the truth out of sheerdisgust. But the letter prepared the minds of both ladies for theexecution of the will.
On arriving at the Bower the two men were met by Jerry, looking moreinnocent and child-like than ever. "Please, missus says will you go intothe drawing-room?" said the infant, casting down his eyes.
Durham looked hard at the young scoundrel who was such a worthyinstrument of Beryl's. He would have liked to examine him then and theretouching his luring of Bernard to Crimea Square, but the present momentwas not propitious, so he passed on. Julius, however, in a mostbenevolent way spoke to the boy--"I hope you are giving your goodmistress satisfaction?"
"Oh yes, sir. But she was angry at me writing and telling you about thepoor sick gentleman."
"By the way, Jerry, how did you find out about him?" asked Durham.
"I saw him arrive," said Jerry, ingenuously. "I was in the garden whenhe came. I wouldn't have written, sir, if I had known that my dearmissus wanted it kept dark. But Mr. Beryl was so anxious about SirBernard that I thought he would be glad to know he was alive."
"How did you know this gentleman was Sir Bernard?"
"I heard James the coachman describe him, and then I knew."
"All the same, Jerry," said Julius, benevolently, "if Miss Berengariawished the fact of Sir Bernard's being here kept quiet, you should nothave disclosed it even to me."
"But I wished to set your mind at rest," murmured Jerry, looking up withdove-like eyes. "I owe you so much, sir."
Julius smiled and patting his head, walked on to the drawing-room. Itwas a very pretty comedy, but Durham was not to be taken in. He knewwell enough that the boy was a mere tool and a dangerous one. As amatter of fact, he did not know until later how dangerous the lad reallycould be.
Miss Berengaria and Alice were in the drawing-room, and both smiled awelcome when the two men entered. Alice darted a look of terror andrepulsion at Beryl, but as he was shaking hands with the old lady he didnot see it, else he might have suspected. Durham guessed this andtouched her hand. She nodded, and when Julius shook hands with her shewelcomed him again with a smile, although her very flesh crept when shetouched him. As for Miss Berengaria, that indomitable old lady neverturned a hair. She smiled and chatted, and was bland to Julius. He mighthave been her dearest friend from the amount of attention she bestowedon him.
"So poor Bernard is going to make his will," she said briskly. "I hopehe has left Alice something."
"Five hundred a year, and the like amount to Mrs. Gilroy."
"Indeed, Mr. Durham; and why to Mrs. Gilroy?"
"Bernard looks upon her as a second mother," said Julius, hastily; "atleast he told me so. Of course, I know nothing about her. I hope,however, she will reappear to claim her legacy."
"There may be no chance for anyone to claim legacies for a long time,"said Miss Berengaria, tartly. "I hope Bernard will not die."
"I hope so also," said Alice, fervently; and she really meant it, eventhough she was thinking of the young scamp upstairs.
Julius shook his head. "Dr. Payne assures me he cannot live. I am gladhe has decided to make this will."
"Yes, you would be," said Miss Berengaria ironically, and she might havebeen rash enough to say more, but that Durham intervened.
"I hope none of the servants know that Bernard is here?"
"They all know by this time," said Miss Berengaria, calmly. "We kept thematter from them as long as possible; and with Alice I waited on Bernardmyself. But Jerry told the servants as well as Mr. Beryl."
"Will the knowledge go any further?" said the lawyer, keeping up thecomedy. "I don't want Bernard arrested."
"My servants will not speak under pain of dismissal, if that is what youmean," said Miss Plantagenet, sharply. "As to Jerry----"
"He is one of your servants also," said Beryl, softly; "but I have someinfluence over Jerry, and I will see that he holds his tongue."
"You can take him away altogether," snapped Miss Berengaria. "I don'tapprove of having boys with long tongues in my house. Jerry had no rightto be hanging round the garden when Bernard arrived, much less to writeand tell you that he was here."
"He thought I was anxious."
"I daresay you are," said the old dame, "to see Bernard hanged."
"Indeed, no," replied Julius, earnestly. "I wish him to die in peace."
"Having got all you can out of him," muttered Miss Berengaria, rubbingher nose. "Well," she added sharply, "are we to go upstairs and witnessthis will?"
"Yes! Mr. Beryl can't witness as he is the residuary legatee. Nor canMiss Alice, since she is mentioned in the will. But you, MissPlantagenet, and----"
"And yourself?"
"No. I am the executor."
"Then Maria can witness the will. She is my own maid and can be dependedupon. Are you coming, Julius?"
"Thank you, no," said Beryl, with a gentle smile. "I think as I havesuch a large interest in the will that it is better I should remainaway. I shall stay here. And you, Miss Malleson?"
"I shall stop also," said Alice in reply to a look from Durham. "You goup with Mr. Durham, aunt."
"Come along then," said Miss Berengaria, hastening out of the room; "thesooner this is over the better. Ugh! I hate wills. They put me in mindof the family vault, and I can't last long now."
The lawyer followed, and Miss Berengaria led him up a narrow stair whichconducted to the turret-room in which the false Bernard was lying. Atthe foot of this stair she stopped. "Durham," she said abruptly, "do youmean to let this man execute this false will?"
"Yes. I wish Julius Beryl to co
mmit himself beyond recall."
"What will you do then?"
"I can't say. One thing at a time. When the will is executed we willwatch Beryl's attitude. Something will happen," added Durham, thinkingof the incriminating handkerchief in his possession.
"Yes," said Miss Berengaria, climbing the stairs with a brisknesssurprising in a woman of her years, "something will happen. This poorforesworn wretch upstairs will die."
"But I thought you said----"
"I know I did. I could help him back to life with careful nursing, and Iwish to do so, since I think there is good in the rascal. But Beryl,having had the will made, will--kill him. Yes," added she, nodding,"there will be a repetition of the crime. I believe Beryl himself killedSimon--the old--no, he is dead. Let us be just."
"What makes you think Julius Beryl killed Sir Simon?"
"Nothing," snapped Miss Berengaria; "he looks like a murderer." Durhamsmiled to himself as he went up the stairs and wondered at her acutenessin thus hitting the nail on the head. When the will was executed Juliuscertainly might attempt to get rid of the instrument he had used, as hehad rid himself of Sir Simon, but in the house of Miss Berengaria thiswould be a more difficult matter. "And if he tries anything of that sorton," thought Durham, "I'll have him arrested at once for the firstmurder. Meantime, let us see how far he will proceed with the plot."
The young man lying in bed was very weak. His face was thin and pale andhis scrubby beard was now longer. He looked haggard and anxious, andstarted up when the door opened. "It is only Mr. Durham and I, Bernard,"said Miss Berengaria in a soft voice. "We have come about the will."
Michael raised himself on his elbow. "Have you got it?" he asked.
"Yes," said Durham, producing the document. "Miss Plantagenet, will youplease call up your maid to witness it?"
While the old lady rang the bell and Michael read the will, the lawyerlooked closely at the invalid. He was wonderfully like Bernard, and butthat Durham knew that the real Gore was in another place he might havebeen deceived. Michael was clever enough to feign illness as an excusefor talking little, as he evidently dreaded to say much lest Alice orDurham should question his identity. The whole deception was cleverlycarried out. Michael even attempted to account for any difference in hissignature.
"I feel so weak I can't write as firmly as I used to," he said, when themaid entered the room. "So you must not be surprised if my signature isunlike my usual one."
"If it is as good as the writing in your letter, I shan't complain,"said Durham, wheeling a small table near to the bed.
Michael looked at him sharply, and seemed relieved by this remark. Heevidently thought that all was well and safe, and heard Durham read thewill with closed eyes. Then, raising himself on his elbow, he signed hisname with apparent difficulty. It was wonderfully like the signature ofBernard. Miss Plantagenet and Maria appended their signatures aswitnesses. Then Durham put the will into an envelope and prepared to godown. Michael stopped him.
"Mark," he said, using the name Bernard usually called the lawyer by,"don't you think I am looking better?"
"I think you are very ill," said Durham, gently.
"But you don't think I'll die?"
"I hope not. With nursing you may get better."
Michael's face assumed an expression of terror. "I won't die," hemoaned, sinking back. "I want to get well and enjoy myself."
"Hush! hush!" said Miss Berengaria, folding the clothes round him, "nomore of this unhealthy talk. You will get well."
With Durham they left the room while Maria remained to attend on thepatient. "Well," said Durham, in a low voice, "you see he expects to getwell, now that he has signed the will. I daresay he will disappear. Thebody of Bernard will be found, and Michael will share the estate withBeryl."
"I don't think so," said Miss Plantagenet, grimly. "Beryl will nowmurder this poor reptile, and take all the money to himself."
"I fear his expectations will be disappointed," said the lawyer, dryly.