CHAPTER V
THE TALK OF THE TOWN
Nowadays, events, political, social, and criminal, crowd so closely onone another's heels that what was formerly a nine days' wonder isscarcely marvelled at the same number of minutes. Yet in certain casesepisodes of a mysterious or unexpected nature engage the attention of acareless world for a somewhat longer period, and provoke an immenseamount of discussion and surmise. In this category may be placed thecrime committed in Geneva Square; for when the extraordinarycircumstances of the case became known, much curiosity was manifestedregarding the possible criminal and his motive for committing soapparently useless a crime.
To add to the wonderment of the public, it came out in the evidence ofLucian Denzil at the inquest that Berwin was not the real name of thevictim; so here the authorities were confronted with a three-foldproblem. They had first to discover the name of the dead man; second, tolearn who it was had so foully murdered him; and third, to find out thereason why the unknown assassin should have slain an apparently harmlessman.
But these hidden things were not easily brought to light; and themeagre evidence collected by the police failed to do away with any oneof the three obstacles--at all events, until after the inquest. When thejury brought in a verdict that the deceased had been violently done todeath by some person or persons unknown, the twelve good men and truestated the full extent of knowledge gained by Justice in her futilescramble after clues. Berwin--so called--was dead, his assassin hadmelted into thin air, and the Silent House had added a second legend toits already uncanny reputation. Formerly it had been simply haunted, nowit was also blood-stained, and its last condition was worse than itsfirst.
The dead man had been found stabbed to the heart by some long, thin,sharp-pointed instrument which the murderer had taken away with him--orperhaps her, as the sex of the assassin, for obvious reasons, could notbe decided. Mrs. Kebby swore that she had left the deceased sitting overthe fire at eight o'clock on Christmas Eve, and that he had then beenfairly well, though far from enjoying the best of health. When shereturned, shortly after nine, on Christmas morning, the man was dead andcold. Medical aid was called in at the same time as the police weresummoned; and the evidence of the doctor who examined the body went toprove that Berwin had been dead at least ten hours; therefore, he musthave been assassinated between the hours of eleven and twelve of theprevious night.
Search was immediately made for the murderer, but no trace could befound of him, nor could it be ascertained how he had entered the house.The doors were all locked, the windows were all barred, and neither atthe back nor in the front was there any outlet left open whereby theman--if it was a man who had done the deed--could have escaped.
Blinders, the policeman on duty at the entrance of the square, gaveevidence that he had been on duty there all night, and that althoughmany servants and owners of houses belonging to the square had passed infrom their Christmas marketings, yet no stranger had entered. Thepoliceman knew every one, even to the errand-boys of the neighbourhood,who brought parcels of Christmas goods, and in many cases had exchangedgreetings with the passers-by; but he was prepared to swear, and, infact, did swear at the inquest, that no stranger either came into orwent out of Geneva Square.
Also he deposed that when the traffic died away after midnight he hadwalked round the square, and had looked at every window, including thatof No. 13, and had tried every door, also including that of No. 13, onlyto find that all was safe. Blinders declared on oath that he had not onChristmas Eve the slightest suspicion of the horrid tragedy which hadtaken place in the Silent House during the time he was on duty.
When the police took possession of the body and mansion, search was madein bedroom and sitting-room for papers likely to throw light on theidentity of the victim, but in vain. No letters or telegrams, or evenwriting of any kind, could be discovered; there was no name in the deadman's books, no mark on his clothes, no initials on his linen.
The landlord of the house declared that the deceased had hired themansion six months before, but had given no references, and as thelandlord was glad to let the haunted No. 13 on any terms, he had notinsisted upon having them. The deceased, said the landlord, had paid amonth's rent in advance in ready money, and at the end of every month hehad discharged his liability in the same way. He gave neither cheque nornotes, but paid always in gold; and beyond the fact that he calledhimself Mark Berwin, the landlord knew nothing about him.
The firm who had furnished the rooms made almost the same report, quiteas meagre and unsatisfactory. Mr. Berwin--so the deceased had given hisname--had ordered the furniture, and had paid for it in gold.Altogether, in spite of every effort, the police were obliged to declarethemselves beaten. They could not find out the name of the victim, andtherefore were unable to learn his past life, or trace thereby if he hadan enemy likely to harm him.
Beyond the report given by Lucian of his conversation with the man,which showed that Berwin certainly had some enemy whom he dreaded, therewas nothing discovered to show reason for the committal of the crime.
Berwin--so called--was dead; he was buried under his assumed name, andthere, so far as the obtainable evidence went, was an end to the strangetenant of the Silent House. Gordon Link, the detective charged with theconduct of the case, confessed as much to Denzil.
"I do not see the slightest chance of tracing Berwin's past," said he tothe barrister. "We are as ignorant about him as we are of the name ofthe assassin."
"Are you sure there is no clue, Mr. Link?"
"Absolutely none; even the weapon with which the crime was committedcannot be found."
"You have searched the house?"
"Every inch of it, and with the result that I have found nothing. Thesurroundings of the case are most mysterious. If we do not identify thedead we cannot hope to trace the murderer. How the wretch got into thehouse is more than I can discover."
"It is strange," admitted Lucian thoughtfully, "yet in some secret waypeople were in the habit of entering the house, and Berwin knew as much;not only that, but he protected them from curiosity by denying that theyeven existed."
"I don't quite follow you, Mr. Denzil."
"I allude to the shadows on the blind, which I saw myself a week beforethe murder took place. They were those of a man and a woman, and musthave been cast by bodies of flesh and blood. Therefore, two people musthave been in Berwin's sitting-room on that night; yet when I met Berwinwho was absent at the time--he denied that anyone could have entered hishouse without his knowledge. More, he actually insisted that I shouldsatisfy myself as to the truth of this by examining the house."
"Which you did?"
"Yes, but found nothing; yet," said Lucian, with an air of conviction,"however the man and woman entered, they were in the house."
"Then the assassin must have come in by the same way; but where that waycan be, or how it can be found, is more than I can say."
"Does the landlord know of any secret passages?"
"No; I asked him," replied the detective, "but he stated that housesnowadays were not built with secret passages. When Berwin denied thatanyone was in the house, was he afraid, Mr. Denzil?"
"Yes, he seemed to be nervous."
"And he told you he had enemies?"
"He hinted that there were people who wished to see him dead. From theway he spoke and the language he used I am satisfied that he was hidingfrom the vengeance of some one."
"Vengeance!" repeated Link, raising his eyebrows. "Is not that word atrifle melodramatic?"
"Perhaps; but to my mind there is more melodrama in actual life thanpeople fancy. However, Mr. Link," added Lucian, "I have come to certainconclusions. Firstly, that Berwin was in hiding; secondly, that he sawpeople secretly who entered in some way we cannot discover; andthirdly, that to solve the problem it will be necessary to look into thepast life of the dead man."
"Your third conclusion brings us round to the point whence we started,"retorted Link. "How am I to discover the man's past?"
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bsp; "By learning who he is, and what is his real name."
"An easy task," said the detective sarcastically, "considering themeagre material upon which we have to work. And how is the business tobe accomplished?"
"By advertisement."
"Advertisement!"
"Yes. I wonder the idea did not strike you before, seeing how often itis used in similar cases. Advertise a full description of the man whocalled himself Berwin, note his physical peculiarities and looks, andcirculate such description by means of handbills and newspapers."
Link looked angry, and laughed rather contemptuously, as hisprofessional pride was touched by the fact of being advised by anindividual not of his calling.
"I am not so ignorant of my business as you think," he said sharply."What you suggest has already been done. There are handbills describingthe appearance of Berwin in every police office in the kingdom."
"In the newspapers, also?" asked Lucian, nettled by the detective'stone.
"No; it is not necessary."
"I don't agree with you. Many people in private life are not likely tosee your handbills. I don't pretend to advise, Mr. Link," he added insoothing tones, "but would it not be wise to use the medium of the dailypapers?"
"I'll think of it," said Link, too jealous of his dignity to give way atonce.
"Oh, I quite rely on your discretion," said Denzil hastily. "You knowyour own business best. But if you succeed in identifying Berwin, willyou let me know?"
Link looked keenly at the young man.
"Why do you wish to know about the matter?" he asked.
"Out of simple curiosity. The case is so mysterious that I should liketo watch you unravel it."
"Well," said Link, rather gratified by this tribute to his power, "Ishall indulge your fancy."
The result of this conversation was that Lucian observed in thenewspapers next day an advertisement describing the looks and name, andphysical peculiarities of the deceased, with special mention of the lossof the left hand's little finger, and the strange cicatrice on the rightcheek. Satisfied that the only way to learn the truth had been adoptedby the authorities, Lucian impatiently waited for the development of thescheme.
Within the week he received a visit from the detective.
"You were right and I was wrong, Mr. Denzil," admitted Link generously."The newspapers were of more use than the handbills. Yesterday Ireceived a letter from a lady who is coming to see me to-morrow at myoffice. So if you care to be present at the interview you have only tosay so."
"I should like it above all things," said Lucian eagerly. "Who is thelady?"
"A Mrs. Vrain, who writes from Bath."
"Can she identify the dead man?"
"She thinks she can, but, of course, she cannot be certain until shesees the body. Going by the description, however," added Link, "she isinclined to believe that Berwin was her husband."