CHAPTER XII
THE VEIL AND ITS OWNER
As may be surmised, Lucian was considerably startled by the discovery ofthis important evidence so confirmative of Diana's suspicions. Yet theknowledge which Link had gained relative to Mrs. Vrain's remaining atBerwin Manor to keep Christmas seemed to contradict the fact; and hecould by no means reconcile her absence with the presence on the fenceof the fragment of gauze; still less with the supposition that she musthave climbed over a tolerably difficult obstacle to enter the yard, letalone the necessity--by no means easy to a woman--of descending into thedisused cellar by means of a shaky and fragile ladder.
"After all," thought Lucian, when he was seated that same evening at hisdinner, "I am no more certain that the veil is the property of Mrs.Vrain than I am that she was the woman whose shadow I saw on the blind.Whosoever it was that gained entrance by passing over fence and throughcellar, must have come across the yard belonging to the house facing theother road. Therefore, the person must be known to the owner of thathouse, and I must discover who the owner is. Miss Greeb will know."
Lucian made this last remark with the greatest confidence, as he wassatisfied, from a long acquaintance with his landlady, that there wasvery little concerning her own neighbourhood of which she was ignorant.The result verified his belief, for when Miss Greeb came in to clear thetable--a duty she invariably undertook so as to have a chance ofconversing with her admired lodger--she was able to afford him thefullest information on the subject. The position of the house inquestion; the name of its owner; the character of its tenants; she wasthoroughly well posted up in every item, and willingly imparted herknowledge with much detail and comment.
"No. 9 Jersey Street," said she, unhesitatingly; "that is the number ofthe house at the back of the haunted mansion, Mr. Denzil. I know it aswell as I know my ten fingers."
"To whom does it belong?" asked Lucian.
"Mr. Peacock; he owns most of the property round about here, havingbought up the land when the place was first built on. He's seventy yearsof age, you know, Mr. Denzil," continued Miss Greeb conversationally,"and rich!--Lord! I don't know how rich he is! Building houses cheap andletting them dear; he has made more out of that than in sanding hissugar and chicorying his coffee. He----"
"What is the name of the tenant?" interrupted Lucian, cutting shortthis rapid sketch of Peacock's life.
"Mrs. Bensusan, one of the largest women hereabouts."
"I don't quite understand."
"Fat, Mr. Denzil. She turns the scale at eighteen stone, and has prettywell broke every weighing machine in the place."
"What reputation has she, Miss Greeb?"
"Oh, pretty good," said the little woman, shrugging her shoulders,"though they do say she overcharges and underfeeds her lodgers."
"She keeps a boarding-house, then?"
"Well, she lets rooms," explained Miss Greeb in a very definite manner,"and those who live in them supply their own food, and pay for serviceand kitchen fire."
"Who is with her now?"
"No one," replied the landlady promptly. "She's had her bill up thesethree months. Her last lodger left about Christmas."
"What is his name--or her name?"
"Oh, it was a 'he,'" said Miss Greeb, smiling.
"Mrs. Bensusan prefers gentlemen, who are out of doors all day, toladies muddling and meddling all day about the house. I must say I do,too, Mr. Denzil," ended the lady, with a fascinating glance.
"What is his name, Miss Greeb?" repeated Lucian, quite impervious to thehint.
"Let me see," said Miss Greeb, discomfited at the result of her failure."A queer name that had to do with payments. Bill as the short forWilliam. No, it wasn't that, although it does suggest an account.Quarterday? No. But it had something to do with quarter-days. Rent!"finished Miss Greeb triumphantly. "Rent, with a 'W' before it."
"W-r-e-n-t!" spelled Lucian.
"Yes. Wrent! Mr. Wrent. A strange name, Mr. Denzil--a kind of charade,as I may say. He was with Mrs. Bensusan six months; came to her houseabout the time Mr. Berwin hired No. 13."
"Very strange!" assented Lucian, to stop further comment. "What kind ofa man was this Mr. Wrent?"
"I don't know. I never heard much about him," replied Miss Greebregretfully. "May I ask why you want to know all this, Mr. Denzil?"
Lucian hesitated, as he rather dreaded the chattering tongue of hislandlady, and did not wish his connection with the Vrain case to becomepublic property in Geneva Square. Still, Miss Greeb was a valuable ally,if only for her wide acquaintance with the neighbourhood, itsinhabitants, and their doings. Therefore, after a moment's reflection,he resolved to secure Miss Greeb as a coadjutor, and risk her excessivegarrulity.
"Can you keep a secret, Miss Greeb?" he asked, with impressivesolemnity.
Struck by his serious air, and at once on fire with curiosity to learnits reason, Miss Greeb loudly protested that she should sooner die thanbreathe a word of what her lodger was about to divulge. She hinted,with many a mysterious look and nod, that secrets endangering thedomestic happiness of every family in the square were known to her, andappealed to the fact that such families still lived in harmony as aproof that she was to be trusted.
"Wild horses wouldn't drag out of me what I know!" cried Miss Greebearnestly. "You can confide in me as you would in a"--she was about tosay mother, but recollecting her juvenile looks, substituted the word"sister."
"Very good," said Lucian, explaining just as much as would serve hispurpose. "Then I may tell you, Miss Greeb, that I suspect the assassinof Mr. Vrain entered through Mrs. Bensusan's house, and so got into theyard of No. 13."
"Lord!" cried Miss Greeb, taken by surprise. "You don't say, sir, thatMr. Wrent is a murdering villain, steeped in gore?"
"No! No!" replied Lucian, smiling at this highly-coloured description."Do not jump to conclusions, Miss Greeb. So far as I am aware, this Mr.Wrent you speak of is innocent. Do you know Mrs. Bensusan and her housewell?"
"I've visited both several times, Mr. Denzil."
"Well, then, tell me," continued the barrister, "is the house built witha full frontage like those in this square? I mean, to gain Mrs.Bensusan's back yard is it necessary to go through Mrs. Bensusan'shouse?"
"No," replied Miss Greeb, shutting her eyes to conjure up the image ofher friend's premises. "You can go round the back through the sidepassage which leads in from Jersey Road."
"H'm!" said Lucian in a dissatisfied tone. "That complicates matters."
"How so, sir?" demanded the curious landlady.
"Never mind just now, Miss Greeb. Do you think you could draw me a planof this passage of Mrs. Bensusan's house, and of No. 13, with the yardsbetween?"
"I never could sketch," said Miss Greeb regretfully, "and I am noartist, Mr. Denzil, but I think I can do what you want."
"Here is a sheet of paper and a pencil. Will you sketch me the houses asclearly as you can?"
With much reflection and nibbling of the pencil, and casting of her eyesup to the ceiling to aid her memory, Miss Greeb in ten minutes producedthe required sketch.
"There you are, Mr. Denzil," said Miss Greeb, placing this work of artbefore the barrister, "that's as good as I can draw."
"It is excellent, Miss Greeb," replied Lucian, examining the plan. "Isee that anyone can get into Mrs. Bensusan's yard through the sidepassage."
"Oh, yes; but I don't think a person could without being seen by Mrs.Bensusan or Rhoda."
"Who is Rhoda?"
"The servant. She's as sharp as a needle, but an idle slut, for allthat, Mr. Denzil. They say she's a gypsy of some kind."
"Is the gate of this passage locked at night?"
"Not that I know of."
"Then what is to prevent any one coming in under cover of darkness andclimbing the fence? He would escape then being seen by the landlady andher servant."
"I daresay; but he'd be seen climbing over the fence from the backwindows of the houses on each side of No. 13."
"Not if he ch
ose a dark night for the climbing."
"Well, even if he did, how could he get into No. 13?" argued Miss Greeb."You know I've read the report of the case, Mr. Denzil, and it couldn'tbe found out (as the kitchen door was locked, and no stranger enteredthe square) how the murdering assassin got in."
"I may discover even that," replied Lucian, not choosing to tell MissGreeb that he had already discovered the entrance. "With time andinquiry and observation we can do much. Thank you, Miss Greeb," hecontinued, slipping the drawing of the plan into his breast coat pocket."I am much obliged for your information. Of course you'll repeat ourconversation to no one?"
"I swear to breathe no word," said Miss Greeb dramatically, and left theroom greatly pleased with this secret understanding, which had quite theair of an innocent intrigue such as was detailed in journals designedfor the use of the family circle.
For the next day or two Lucian mused over the information he hadobtained, and made a fresh drawing of the plan for his own satisfaction;but he took no steps on this new evidence, as he was anxious to submithis discoveries to Miss Vrain before doing so. At the present time Dianawas at Bath, taking possession of her ancestral acres, and consultingthe family lawyer on various matters connected with the property.
Once she wrote to Lucian, advising him that she had heard several piecesof news likely to be useful in clearing up the mystery; but these sherefused to communicate save at a personal interview. Denzil was thuskept in suspense, and unable to rest until he knew precisely the valueof Miss Vrain's newly acquired information; therefore it was with afeeling of relief that he received a note from her asking him to call atthree o'clock on Sunday at the Royal John Hotel.
Since her going and coming a week had elapsed.
Now that his divinity had returned, and he was about to see her again,the sun shone once more in the heavens for Lucian, and he arrayedhimself for his visit with the utmost care. His heart beat violently andhis colour rose as he was ushered into the little sitting-room, and hethought less of the case at the moment than of the joy in seeing MissVrain once more, in hearing her speak, and watching her lovely face.
On her part, Diana, recollecting their last meeting, or moreparticularly their parting, blushed in her turn, and gave her hand tothe barrister with a new-born timidity. She also was inclined to likeLucian more than was reasonable for the peace of her heart; so these twopeople, each drawn to the other, should have come together as loverseven at this second meeting.
But, alas! for the prosaicness of this workaday world, they had toassume the attitudes of lawyer and client; and discourse of crimeinstead of love. The situation was a trifle ironical, and must haveprovoked the laughter of the gods.
"Well?" asked Miss Vrain, getting to business as soon as Lucian wasseated, "and what have you found out?"
"A great deal likely to be of service to us. And you?"
"I!" replied Miss Vrain in a satisfied tone. "I have discovered that thestiletto with the ribbon is gone from the library."
"Who took it away?"
"No one knows. I can't find out, although I asked all the servants; butit has been missing from its place for some months."
"Do you think Mrs. Vrain took it?"
"I can't say," replied Diana, "but I have made one discovery about Mrs.Vrain which implicates her still more in the crime. She was not inBerwin Manor on Christmas Eve, but in town."
"Really!" said Lucian much amazed. "But Link was told that she spentChristmas in the Manor at Bath."
"So she did. Link asked generally, and was answered generally. Mrs.Vrain went up to town on Christmas Eve and returned on Christmas Day;but," said Diana, with emphasis, "she spent the night in town, and onthat night the murder was committed."
Lucian produced his pocketbook and took therefrom the fragment of gauze,which he handed to Diana.
"I found this on the fence at the back of No. 13," he said. "It is aveil--a portion of a velvet-spotted veil."
"A velvet-spotted veil!" cried Diana, looking at it. "Then it belongs toLydia Vrain. She usually wears velvet-spotted veils. Mr. Denzil, theevidence is complete--that woman is guilty!"