CHAPTER VII
THE ASSURANCE MONEY
Mrs. Vrain's fainting fit was of no great duration, and she shortlyrecovered her senses, but not her sprightliness. Her excuse was that thelong discussion of her husband's murder, and the too precise detailsrelated to her by Link before Denzil's arrival, had so wrought on hernerves as to occasion her temporary indisposition.
This reason, which was a trifle weak, since she seemed to bear herhusband's loss with great stoicism, awakened suspicions in Lucian's mindas to her truthfulness. However, these were too vague and confused to beput into words, so the young man remained silent until Mrs. Vrain andher father departed. This they did almost immediately, after the widowhad given her London and country addresses to the detective, in case heshould require her in the conduct of the case.
This matter being attended to, she left the room, with a parting smileand especial bow to Lucian.
Link smiled in his turn as he observed this Parthian shaft, the shootingof which was certainly out of keeping with Mrs. Vrain's character of amourning widow.
"You seem to have made an impression on the lady, Mr. Denzil," he said,with a slight cough to conceal his amusement.
"Nonsense!" replied Lucian, his fair face crimsoning with vexation. "Sheseems to me one of those shallow women who would sooner flirt with atinker than pass unnoticed by the male sex. I don't like her," heconcluded, with some abruptness.
"On what grounds?"
"Well, she spoke very hardly about her husband, and seemed rather moreconcerned about this assurance money than his death. She is a flippantdoll, with a good deal of the adventuress about her. I don't think,"said the barrister significantly, "that she is altogether so ignorant ofthis matter as she pretends to be."
The detective raised his eyebrows. "You don't propose to accuse her ofthe murder?" he asked sceptically.
"Oh, no!" answered Denzil hastily. "I don't say she is as guilty as allthat; but she knows something, or suspects something."
"How do you make that out?"
"She fainted at the mention of stiletto; and I am convinced thatVrain--as I suppose we must call him now--was killed with one. Andagain, Link, this woman admitted that she had married her elderlyhusband in Florence. Now, Florence, as you know, is an Italian town; astiletto is an Italian weapon. Putting these two things together, whatdo you make of Mrs. Vrain's fainting?"
"I make nothing of it, Mr. Denzil. You are too suspicious. The womanhad no reason to rid herself of her husband as you hint."
"What about the assurance money?"
"There is a motive there, certainly--a motive of gain. Still, I thinkyou are making a mountain out of a molehill, for I am satisfied that sheknows no more who committed the crime than does the Pope himself."
"It is as well to look in every direction," said Lucian obstinately.
"Meaning that I should follow this clue you suggest, which has noexistence save in your own fancy. Well, I'll keep my eye on Mrs. Vrain,you may be sure of that. It won't be difficult, as she will certainlystay in town until she identifies the body of her dead husband and getsthe money. If she is guilty, I'll track her down; but I am certain shehas nothing to do with the crime. If she had, it is not likely that shewould enter the lion's den by coming to see me. No, no, Mr. Denzil; youhave found a mare's nest."
Lucian shrugged his shoulders, and took up his hat to go.
"You may be right," said he reluctantly, "but I have my doubts of Mrs.Vrain, and shall continue to have them until she supplies a morefeasible explanation of her fainting. In the meantime, I'll leave you tofollow out the case in the manner you judge best. We shall see who isright in the long run," and Denzil, still holding to his opinion, tookhis departure, leaving Link confident that the young man did not knowwhat he was talking about.
As the detective sat thinking over the late conversation, and wonderingif he could shape any definite course out of it, Denzil put his head inat the door.
"I say, Link," he called out, "you'd better find out if Mrs. Vrain isreally the wife of this dead man before you are guided by her story!"After which speech he hurriedly withdrew, leaving Link to digest it athis leisure.
At first, Link was indignant that Denzil should deem him so easilyhoodwinked as the speech implied. Afterwards he began to laugh.
"Wife!" said he to himself. "Of course she is the man's wife! She knowstoo much about him to be otherwise; but even granting that Denzil isright--which I don't for a moment admit--there is no need for me toprove the truth of his assumption. If this pretty woman is not the truewife of Berwin, or Vrain, or whatever this dead man's name actually maybe, the assurance company will get at the rights of the matter beforepaying over the money."
Subsequent events reflected credit on this philosophical speech anddetermination of Mr. Link. Had Mrs. Vrain been an imposter, her house ofcards would have been knocked down, as soon as reared, by the searchinginquiry instituted by the Sirius Assurance Company. It appeared that thelife of the late Mark Vrain was on the books of the company for no lessa sum than twenty thousand pounds; and under the will this was to bepaid over to Lydia Vrain, _nee_ Clyne. The widow, aided by herfather--who was a shrewd business man, in spite of his innocentlooks--and the family lawyer of the Vrains, went systematically to workto establish her own identity, the death of her husband, and herconsequent right to the money.
The first thing to be done was to prove that the dead man was reallyVrain. There was some little difficulty in obtaining an order from theauthorities for the opening of the grave and the exhumation of the body;but finally the consent of those in power was obtained, and there waslittle difficulty in the identification of the remains. The lawyer, Mr.Clyne, Mrs. Vrain herself, and several people brought up from Bath bythe assurance company, swore that the corpse--buried under the falsename of Berwin--was that of Mark Vrain, for decomposition had notproceeded so far but what the features could be recognised. There waseven no need to unwrap the body from its cerements, as the face itself,and the scar thereon, were quite sufficient for the friends of thedeceased to swear to the corpse. Thereupon the assurance company, on thefullest of evidence, was compelled to admit that their client was dead,and expressed themselves ready to pay over the money to Mrs. Vrain assoon as the will should be proved.
Pending the legal process necessary to do this, the widow made a greatparade of her grief and affection for the dead man. She had the bodyre-enclosed in a new and sumptuous coffin, and removed the same toBerwin Manor, near Bath, where, after a short lapse of time, it was dulyplaced in the family vault of the Vrains.
The widow, having thus disposed of her husband, bethought herself of herstepdaughter, who at that time was on a visit to some friends inAustralia. A long letter, giving full details, was despatched by Mrs.Vrain, and the daughter was requested, both by the widow and the lawyer,to come back to England at once and take up her abode in Berwin Manor,which, with its surrounding acres, had been left to her under the will.
Matters connected with the death and its consequences having beendisposed of thus far, Mrs. Vrain sat down, and, folding her hands,waited till such time as she would receive the assurance money, andbegin a new life as a wealthy and fascinating widow. Every one said thatthe little woman had behaved very well, and that Vrain--weak-headed ashe was supposed to be--had shown excellent judgment in dividing hisproperty, real and personal, so equally between the two claimants. MissVrain, as became the child of the first wife, received the home andacres of her ancestors; while the second wife obtained the assurancemoney, which every one candidly admitted she quite deserved for havingsacrificed her youth and beauty to an old man like Vrain. In those days,when all these details were being settled, the widow was the mostpopular personage in Bath.
Matters went smoothly with Mrs. Vrain in every respect. The will wasduly proved, the twenty thousand pounds was duly paid over; so, findingherself rich, the widow came with her father to take up her abode inLondon. When settled there one of her first acts was to send a note toLucian, telling him that she
was in town. The good looks of the youngman had made a considerable impression on Mrs. Vrain, and she appearedanxious to renew the acquaintance, although it had been soinauspiciously begun in the purlieus of the police courts.
On his part, Lucian lost no time in paying his respects, for after thesearching inquiry conducted by the Sirius Assurance Company, out ofwhich ordeal Mrs. Vrain had emerged unscathed, he began to think that hehad been too hasty in condemning the little widow. So he called upon heralmost immediately after receiving the invitation, and found her, afterthe lapse of three months, as pretty as ever, and clothed in less heavymourning.
"It's real sweet of you to call, Mr. Denzil," said she vivaciously. "Ihaven't seen anything of you since we met in Mr. Link's office. Andsakes! have I not had a heap of trouble since then?"
"Your trouble has done you no harm, Mrs. Vrain. So far as your looks go,three minutes, rather than three months, might have passed."
"Oh, that's all right. I guess it's not good enough to cry one's selfsick for what can't be helped. But I want to ask you, Mr. Denzil, howthat policeman is progressing with the case."
"He has found out nothing," replied Lucian, shaking his head, "and, sofar as I can see, there's not much chance of learning the truth."
"I never thought there was," said Mrs. Vrain, with a shrug. "Seems to meyou don't get round much in this old country. Well, it don't seem as Ican do much more. I've told all I know, and I've offered a reward ofL500 to discover the man who stuck Mark. If he ain't found for dollarshe won't be found at all."
"Probably not, Mrs. Vrain. It is now over three months since the crimewas committed, and every day makes the chance of discovery less."
"But for all that, Diana Vrain's going on the trail, Mr. Denzil."
"Diana Vrain! Who is she?"
"My stepdaughter--Mark's only child. She was in Australia--out in thewild west of that country--and only lately got the news of her father'sdeath. I got a letter from her last week, and it seems as she's comingback here to find out who laid her poppa out."
"I am afraid she'll not succeed," said Denzil dubiously.
"She'll do her best to," replied Mrs. Vrain, with a shrug. "She's asobstinate as a battery mule; but it's no use talking, she will have herown way," and dismissing the subject of Miss Vrain, the pretty widow,with an air of relief, talked on more frivolous subjects until Luciantook his departure.