The Lone Inn: A Mystery

by Fergus Hume

CHAPTER IX.

[ANOTHER SURPRISE.]

Dr. Merrick was delighted to see me again so speedily, and assured me that he had thought of nothing else but the Lone Inn crime. The peculiar circumstances of the case fascinated him greatly. "Decidedly I should be a detective," he said laughingly. "I have been inventing all kinds of theories in connection with this matter. By the way, my idea of searching the shipping list was a good one."

"Excellent. You received my letter?"

"I did, with much pleasure. So Francis did not arrive in England until the 6th of June?"

"No! Therefore it was Francis whom I met at the Fen Inn, who was killed by his brother, and it is Felix who now passes himself off to Olivia Bellin as Francis."

"Does she not guess the imposture?"

"No! So far as I can see she firmly believes Felix to be Francis. You were also right about the hiding of the corpse."

"You don't say so!" cried Merrick, highly delighted; "did Felix ride out to the Fen Inn and hide the body as I surmised?"

"He did! I have the evidence of the livery-stable keeper to prove that he hired a horse on the 11th and did not return till midnight."

"During which time he disposed of his brother's body."

"Precisely! I tracked his horse's hoof marks to the pool wherein I am convinced the body lies hidden."

"Egad! You are a wonderful man, Denham! Did you have the pool dragged for the body?"

"Not yet. I wish to tell you all my discoveries before doing so."

"Many thanks. I am so interested in this case that it is a great pleasure for me to follow it step by step."

"I wish no thanks from you, Merrick," said I heartily. "It is rather the other way, as your reasonings have led me to these important discoveries: First, that Felix was in Paris; second, that Francis did not arrive from Chili till this month; and third, that Felix himself hid the corpse. By myself I should never have discovered so much. But I have made one most famous discovery."

"Yes! And that is?"

"I know how the crime was committed and by whom."

"You don't say so!" exclaimed Merrick, in much excitement. "Have you seen Strent?"

"No; it was not Strent who killed Francis Briarfield."

"You don't mean to say it was Rose Strent?"

"No; it was Felix himself."

Merrick uttered an ejaculation of surprise, and remained silent for a few minutes.

"But you said yourself that Felix never came to the inn on that night," he objected.

"So I thought, but it appears that I was mistaken. Fundy, the livery-stable keeper, told me that. Felix hired a horse from him on the 10th and 11th of June. On both occasions he did not return till midnight. Now, Francis was murdered on the 10th, and his corpse disappeared on the 11th. Felix is therefore responsible for both the murder and the concealment of the body."

"That is purely circumstantial evidence."

I laid down the arrowhead on the table.

"This is proof positive," I said triumphantly. "With that piece of flint Francis was killed."

"Really?" said Merrick skeptically, picking up the arrowhead. "With such a clumsy instrument he must have bungled the job considerably."

"Not at all. That arrowhead is steeped in virulent poison."

"The deuce!" cried Merrick, dropping it hastily. "Why did you not warn me of its danger? I might have cut myself and gone the same way as poor Francis Briarfield. How do you know the murder was so executed?"

"I told you about the discolored wound in the palm of the right hand?"

Merrick nodded.

"Well," I continued, "that was the cause of death, as there was neither scratch nor violence on any other part of the body. I picked up that arrowhead in the fireplace of the dining room of the Fen Inn, where it had doubtless been thrown by Felix after the committal of the crime."

"Where did he get the arrowhead?"

"That is just what puzzled me for a long time. Fortunately, I remembered that the entrance to Bellin Hall was decked with a perfect armory of savage weapons. I made an excuse of looking at the picture gallery, and so gained admission to the Hall."

"Did you find anything likely to confirm your suspicions?"

"Yes! I found that an arrow had been removed from the wall."

"How could you tell that?"

"Because the weapons were arranged in patterns, and one of the patterns was incomplete. Moreover, on comparing that arrowhead with those on the wall I found it was precisely similar in appearance."

"Humph," said Merrick thoughtfully, "there is only one deduction to be taken from all this. Felix stole the arrowhead, and, knowing it to be poisoned, rode off to the Fen Inn to kill his brother. He is a clever scoundrel."

"Very clever indeed," I answered dryly; "but for you, Merrick, he would have baffled me altogether."

"I think you have him this time," said Merrick, laughing. "Now, what do you intend to do next?"

"Have the pool dragged for the body and Felix Briarfield arrested."

"Before doing so it would be advisable to find Rose Strent or her father."

"Why so?"

"Because they only can give positive evidence as to the committal of the crime. Failing them, Felix may slip through your fingers."

"They won't show up or give evidence for their own sake."

"In that case they must be found and forced into confession," said the doctor quickly. "And what about Felix and Miss Bellin?"

"They are now in town--Mrs. and Miss Bellin in Swansea Square, and Felix at his chambers in Jermyn Street."

"I wonder if Felix is still in communication with Rose Strent?" queried Merrick, half to himself.

"It's not impossible! Whatever Rose Strent was or is, she is not a waiting maid. I believe some guilty bond unites the pair, and that Rose assisted Felix in his scoundrelly schemes out of pure love."

"Hardly," responded Merrick thoughtfully. "If Rose loved Felix, she would not assist him to marry Olivia, and by removing Francis she certainly did so."

"How would it do to see Felix at his chambers and bully him into confession?"

"You won't manage that--the man is too clever."

"He can't do much against the proofs in my possession."

"He'll deny anything!"

"At all events I'll try, Merrick. This evening I'll call on Felix and swear that I am going to have him arrested for the murder of his brother. That will bring him to his knees."

"It might and it might not. Better look for Rose Strent."

"If anyone knows where she is to be found, it is Felix. I can't do better than see him."

"Try it, by all means," said the doctor doubtfully, "but I'm afraid you won't get much satisfaction out of him. First find Rose Strent, have the pool dragged and the body found; then, what with the evidence of Fundy and that arrowhead, you will have no difficulty in getting a warrant for his arrest. At present Felix will simply order you out of his rooms."

"I'll run the risk of that," I answered, and shortly afterward took my departure.

I could not now complain of lack of interest in my life. It took me all my time to keep the many details of this case in mind. There was no doubt that I had already solved the mystery and that Felix was guilty of his brother's death. Yet, as Merrick said, it would be necessary to find the body and thus establish conclusive proof of the crime before the murderer could be convicted. When this was done, the evidence in hand would be sufficient to insure his condemnation. For my part I believed that he would be driven into a corner and forced to confess his complicity in the crime.

Firmly convinced of this man's guilt, I was determined he should not marry Olivia. The crime had been committed for her sake, and, seeing that he had behaved in so cowardly a fashion, it was a fit retribution that he should not achieve his purpose. It was no use my warning Olivia as to the true character of Felix, as she firmly believed him to be Francis, and would decline to believe my story. Under these circumstances I judged it advisable to see Felix at his chambers, and warn him that I knew all. Terrified by the predicament in which he found himself, he might leave England, and thus Olivia would be saved from lifelong misery. His punishment for the crime would occur later on; as, notwithstanding his flight, he could be arrested on the Continent while extradition treaties were in force.

After dinner I therefore went to call on Felix. His rooms were in Jermyn Street, and, as mine were just round the corner in Duke Street, I had not far to go. My visit was paid on the chance of finding him in, as I did not wish to put him on his guard by notifying my wish for an interview. As the twins, in spite of constant disagreement, occupied the same rooms, I could not but wonder at the nerve of Felix in coming back to the apartments where every familiar object would remind him of his fratricidal act.

It was just eight o'clock when I reached the door of the chambers. At the foot of the stairs I found the caretaker ensconced in a glass box like an insect. To him I addressed myself. He was an old friend of mine, and rather an oddity in his way.

"Is Mr. Briarfield within?"

"Mr. Francis Briarfield is in his rooms," said the caretaker; "but Mr. Felix is in Paris."

Of course I guessed that this would be the answer, and secretly admired the dexterity with which Felix had carried out his plans. Doubtless in the end when his brother did not return, or rather when his pretended self did not reappear, he would account for it by an accident in the Eastern deserts. However, my business was with Felix, alias Francis, so I made no comment on the caretaker's remark.

"Pray take up my card to Mr. Briarfield," I said. "I want to see him at once."

"I can't take it up now, sir," said the caretaker civilly. "Mr. Briarfield is engaged, and gave particular orders that he was not to be disturbed."

"Ah! but doubtless he is engaged with a friend of mine," I hinted ambiguously.

"Is the lady a friend of yours, sir?"

A lady! My thoughts at once reverted to Rose Strent; but, then, the chances were that it might be Olivia.

"Yes, Miss Bellin?"

"That's the young lady, sir, to whom Mr. Briarfield is engaged?" asked the caretaker, who was a confirmed gossip.

"Yes!"

"It is not her, sir. I know her well by sight, as she has been here with Mrs. Bellin. It's another lady."

My surmise was right, and I felt confident that while I stood there Felix was having an interview with his accomplice. I could not disturb them, yet wished to assure myself of the identity of Rose Strent. When I found out all about her, there might be a possibility of solving the mystery.

"Well, no matter," I answered carelessly, stuffing the card back into my case. "I'll see Mr. Briarfield another time."

"Will you leave your name, sir?"

"No, it doesn't matter. I'll call about nine on the chance of finding him in."

Having thus baffled the inquiries of the caretaker, I strolled into the street, and, taking up my station at the corner, kept my eyes on the door. If Rose Strent was with Felix, she must certainly come out in a short time. Then I intended to follow her up and speak to her if I got a chance. Failing Briarfield, I might possibly extort a confession from the weaker vessel.

In about a quarter of an hour the woman came out. She wore no veil, and, as it was still fairly light, I had no difficulty in seeing her face. She passed hurriedly by me in the direction of the Haymarket without observing me, and I recognized her at a glance. It was, as I thought, Rose Strent, and none other. In place of the waiting maid's linen dress she was arrayed in a smart tailor-made costume, and looked very fashionable indeed. Her face wore a triumphant expression, as though she had been successful with Felix. I guessed the interview had been for the purpose of extorting blackmail. With her knowledge of his secret Felix was certainly at her mercy.

Following her up at some little distance, she went down the Hay-market and turned into one of the side streets; turned off there into a dirty little alley, and finally disappeared into a swing door over which was a lamp inscribed with some letters. I looked up and saw written thereon "Stage Door."

"An actress!" said I, and went round to the front of the theater to inspect the play-bill. It was the Frivolity Theater, and they were playing the burlesque of "As You Don't Like It." Glancing down the list of characters, I saw that _Orlando_ was played by Miss Rose Gernon.

"A leading lady," I thought, transfixed with astonishment. "A burlesque actress, doubtless, in the receipt of a good salary. What in Heaven's name took her to the Fen Inn?"

This question I was of course unable to answer, but I guessed it had something to do with love and Felix Briarfield. Leaving the matter alone for a few moments, I secured a stall, and entered the theater. When _Orlando_ came on, I was thoroughly satisfied. Rose Strent was Rose Gernon, and I had seen her play the part of waiting maid at the Fen Inn on the 10th of June, that fatal night of the murder.