CHAPTER XIX
THE DEFENCE OF COUNT FERRUCI
"It is quite impossible!" cried Mrs. Vrain distractedly. "I can'tbelieve it nohow!"
The little woman was back again in her own drawing-room, talking toLucian about the discovery which had lately been made regardingFerruci's purchase of the cloak. Mrs. Vrain having proved her owninnocence by the evidence of the Pegall family, was now trying topersuade both herself and Denzil that the Count could not be possiblyimplicated in the matter. He had no motive to kill Vrain, she said, astatement with which Lucian at once disagreed.
"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Vrain, he had two motives," said the barristerquickly. "In the first place, he was in love, and wished to marry you;in the second, he was poor, and wanted money. By the death of yourhusband he hoped to gain both."
"He has gained neither, as yet," replied Lydia sharply. "I like Ercolewell enough, and at one time I was almost engaged to him. But he has anasty temper of his own, Mr. Denzil, so I shunted him pretty smart tomarry Mark Vrain. I wouldn't marry him now if he dumped down a milliondollars at my feet to-morrow. Besides, poppa don't like him at all. I'vegot my money, and I've got my freedom, and I don't fool away either theone or the other on that Italian dude!"
"Is the Count acquainted with these sentiments?" asked Lucian drily.
"I guess so, Mr. Denzil. He asked me to marry him two months afterMark's death, and I just up and told him pretty plain how the catjumped."
"In plain English, you refused him?"
"You bet I did!" cried Lydia vigorously. "So you see, Mr. Denzil, hecould not have killed Mark."
"Why not? He did not know your true mind until two months after themurder."
"That's a fact, anyhow," commented Mrs. Vrain. "But what the mischiefmade him buy that rabbit-skin cloak?"
"I expect he bought it for the woman I mistook for you."
"And who may she be?"
"That is just what I wish to find out. This woman who came to JerseyStreet so often wore this cloak; therefore, she must have obtained itfrom the Count. I'll make him tell me who she is, and what she has to dowith this crime."
"Do you think she has anything to do with it?" said Mrs. Vraindoubtfully.
"I am certain. It must have been her shadow I saw on the blind."
"And the man's shadow was the Count's?" questioned Lydia.
"I think so. He bought the cloak for the woman, visited the man Wrent atJersey Street, and was seen by the servant in the back yard. He did notact thus without some object, Mrs. Vrain, you may be sure of that."
"Sakes!" said Lydia, with a weary sigh. "I ain't sure of anything savethat my head is buzzing like a sawmill. Who is Wrent, anyhow?"
"I don't know. An old man with white beard and a skull-cap of blackvelvet."
"Ugh!" said Mrs. Vrain, with a shiver. "Mark used to wear a blackskull-cap, and the thought of it makes me freeze up. Sounds like a judgeof your courts ordering a man to be lynched. Well, Mr. Denzil, it seemsto me as you'd best hustle Ercole. If he knows who the woman is--and hewouldn't buy cloaks for her if he didn't--he'll know who this Wrent is.I guess he can supply all information."
"Where does he live?"
"Number 40, Marquis Street, St. James's. You go and look him up, while Itell poppa what a mean white he is. I guess poppa won't let him comenear me again. Pop's an honest man, though he ain't no Washington."
"Suppose I find out that he killed your husband?" asked Lucian, rising.
"Then you'd best lynch him right away," replied Lydia withouthesitation. "I draw the line at murder--some!"
The barrister was somewhat disgusted to hear Mrs. Vrain so coolly devoteher whilom admirer to a shameful death. However, he knew that her heartwas hard and her nature selfish; so there was little use in showing anyoutward displeasure at her want of charity. She had cleared herself fromsuspicion, and evidently cared not who suffered, so long as she was safeand well spoken of. Moreover, Lucian had learned all he wished about hermovements on the night of the crime, and taking a hasty leave, he wentoff to Marquis Street for the purpose of bringing Ferruci to book forhis share in the terrible business. However, the Count proved to be fromhome, and would not be back, so the servant said, until late that night.
Denzil therefore left a message that he would call at noon the next day,and drove from St. James's to Kensington, where he visited Diana. Herehe detailed what he had learned and done from the time he had visitedMrs. Bensusan up to the interview with Lydia. Also he displayed thecloak, and narrated how Mrs. Vrain had cleared herself of its purchase.
To all this Diana listened with the greatest interest, and when Lucianended she looked at him for some moments in silence. In fact, Diana,with all her wit and common sense, did not know how to regard thepresent position of affairs.
"Well, Miss Vrain," said Lucian, seeing that she did not speak, "whatdo you think of it all?"
"Mrs. Vrain appears to be innocent," said Diana in a low voice.
"Assuredly she is! The evidence of the Pegall family--given in allinnocence--proves that she could not have been in Geneva Square or inJersey Street on Christmas Eve."
"Then we come back to my original belief, Mr. Denzil. Lydia did notcommit the crime herself, but employed Ferruci to do so."
"No," replied Denzil decidedly. "Whether the Italian is guilty or not,Mrs. Vrain knows nothing about it. If she were cognisant of his guiltshe would not have risked going with me to Baxter & Co., and letting mediscover that Ferruci had bought the cloak. Nor would she so lightlysurrender a possible accomplice as she has done Ferruci. Whatever can besaid of Mrs. Vrain's conduct--and I admit that it is far fromperfect--yet I must say that she appears, by the strongest evidence, tobe totally innocent and ignorant. She knows no more about the matterthan her father does."
"Well," said Diana, unwilling to grant her stepmother too much grace,"we must give her the benefit of the doubt. What about Ferruci?"
"So far as I can see, Ferruci is guilty," replied Lucian. "To clearhimself he will have to give the same proof as Mrs. Vrain. Firstly, hewill have to show that he was not in Jersey Street on Christmas Eve;secondly, he will have to prove that he did not buy the cloak. But inthe face of the servant's evidence, and the statement of the shopwoman,he will find it difficult to clear himself. Yet," added Lucian,remembering his failure with Lydia, "it is always possible that he maydo so."
"It seems to me, Mr. Denzil, that your only chance of getting at thetruth is to see the Italian."
"I think so myself. I will see him to-morrow."
"Will you take Mr. Link with you?"
"No, Miss Vrain. As I have found out so much without Link, I may as wellproceed in the matter until his professional services are required toarrest Count Ferruci. By the way, I have never seen that gentleman. Canyou describe his appearance to me?"
"Oh, as far as looks go there is no fault to be found with him,"answered Diana. "He is a typical Italian, tall, slender, and olivecomplexioned. He speaks English very well, indeed, and appears to bepossessed of considerable education. Certainly, to look at him, and tospeak with him, you would not think he was a villain likely to murder adefenceless old man. But if he did not kill my poor father, I know notwho did."
"I'll call on him to-morrow at noon," said Lucian, "and later on I shallcome here to tell you what has passed between us."
This remark brought the business between them to a close, but Lucianwould fain have lingered to engage Diana in lighter conversation. MissVrain, however, was too much disturbed by the news he had brought herto indulge in frivolous talk. Her mind, busied with recollections of herdeceased father, and anxiously seeking some means whereby to avenge hisdeath, was ill attuned to encourage at the moment the aspirations whichshe knew Lucian entertained.
The barrister, therefore, sighed and hinted in vain. His Dulcinea wouldhave none of him or his courting, and he was compelled to retire, asdisconsolate a lover as could be seen. To slightly alter the saying ofShakespeare, "the course of true love never does run smooth," but therewer
e surely an unusual number of obstacles in the current of Denzil'sdesires. But as he consoled himself with reflecting that the greater theprize the harder it is to win, so it behooved him to do his devoir likea true knight.
The next day, at noon, Lucian, armed for the encounter with the evidenceof Rhoda and of the cloak, presented himself at the rooms which CountFerruci temporarily inhabited in Marquis Street. He not only found theItalian ready to receive him, but in full possession of the adventure ofthe cloak, which, as he admitted, he had learned from Lydia the previousevening. Also, Count Ferruci was extremely indignant, and informedLucian that he was easily able to clear himself of the suspicion. Whilehe raged on in his fiery Italian way, Denzil, who saw no chance ofstaying the torrent of words, examined him at his leisure.
Ercole Ferruci was, as Diana had said, a singularly handsome man ofthirty-five. He was dark, slender, and tall, with dark, flashing eyes, aheavy black moustache, and an alert military look about him which showedthat he had served in the army. The above description savours a trifleof the impossible hero of a young lady's dream; and, as a matter offact, Ferruci was not unlike that ideal personage. He had all the looksand graces which women admire, and seemed honest and fiery enough in amanly way--the last person, as Lucian thought, to gain his aims byunderhand ways, or to kill a helpless old man. But Lucian, legallyexperienced in human frailty, was not to be put off with volubleconversation and outward graces. He wished for proofs of innocence, andthese he tried to obtain as soon as Ferruci drew breath in his fieryharangue.
"If you are innocent, Count," said Lucian, in reply to the fluent,incorrect English of the Italian, "appearances are against you. However,you can prove yourself innocent, if you will."
"Sir!" cried Ferruci, "is not my word good?"
"Not good enough for an English court," replied Lucian coldly. "You sayyou were not in Jersey Street on Christmas Eve. Who can prove that?"
"My friend--my dear friend, Dr. Jorce of Hampstead, sir. I was with him;oh, yes, sir, he will tell you so."
"Very good! I hope his evidence will clear you," replied the morephlegmatic Englishman. "And this cloak?"
"I never bought the cloak! I saw it not before!"
"Then come with me to the shop in Bayswater, and hear what the girl whosold it says."
"I will come at once!" cried Ferruci hastily, catching up his cane andhat. "Come, then, my friend! Come! What does the woman say?"
"That she sold the cloak to a tall man--to a dark man with a moustache,and one who told her he was Italian."
"Bah!" retorted the Count, as they hailed a hansom. "Is all that she cansay? Why, all we Italians are supposed to be tall and dark, and wearmoustaches. Your common people in England never fancy one of us can befair."
"You are not fair," replied Lucian drily, "and your looks correspond tothe description."
"True! Oh, yes, sir! But that description might describe a dozen of mycountrymen. And, Mr. Denzil," added the Count, laughing, "I do not goround about saying to common people that I am an Italian. It is not mycustom to explain."
Lucian shrugged his shoulders, and said no more until they entered theshop in Bayswater. As he knew from the previous visit where thesaleswoman was located, he led the Count rapidly to the place. The girlwas there, as brisk and businesslike as ever. She looked up as theyapproached, and came forward to serve them, with a swift glance at both.
"I am sorry to trouble you again," said Lucian ceremoniously, "but youtold me yesterday that you sold a blue cloak, lined with rabbit skin,to an Italian gentleman, and--"
"And am I the gentleman?" interrupted Ferruci. "Did I buy a cloak?"
"No," replied the shopwoman, after a sharp glance. "This is not thegentleman who bought the cloak."