CHAPTER XXIV
[A QUEER MESSAGE]
Vass paused before answering this question and drank some more water. Now that he had commenced his confession he was much more at his ease, and seemed disposed to tell all he had hitherto kept back. He smiled faintly and repeated Darrel's remark before making any reply.
"How about going in place of Lydia?" he said. "Well that was because Miss Hargone never intended to go to Italy or South America with Grent."
"But he bought double tickets for Genoa," exclaimed Torry.
"I know he did. I looked into the envelope which contained them when it was left in Grent's private office. But Lydia was only fooling the old man."
"In that case why did she make the Mortality-lane appointment?"
"Because she wanted the ten thousand pounds. Yes; her fear of the society was all feigned, and she suggested the meeting-place and disguise to Grent so that in the event of any trouble over the loss of the money, he might be accused by reason of his suspicious conduct."
"The loss of the money," echoed Darrel. "Then she intended to rob him on that night?"
"She did; but I don't believe she intended murder. On the Friday night, when all was arranged with Grent, she refused to meet him in Mortality-lane, and asked Julia to go in her place."
"But why did Julia consent to undertake so dangerous a task?"
"Oh, that was my doing," said the secretary complacently.
"Your doing!"
"Yes. Julia called at the bank next day at noon to acquaint me with Miss Hargone's proposal. I saw a chance of getting the ten thousand into my own hands without suspicion, so I urged her to go. I knew from Mr. Leighbourne that he had changed the notes at Grent's request, so that they could not be traced by the numbers kept by Captain Manuel. Grent arranged that to benefit himself. When I heard Julia's story of Miss Hargone's proposal, I decided that they should benefit me. I told Julia to go to the rendezvous and get the money from Grent, then meet me at Cleopatra's Needle and give it to me. The next day I intended to send a note to the office feigning illness, and in the meantime, leave England for Australia with Julia and the money."
"You are a scoundrel, I must say."
"No, I am not," cried Vass, flushing. "If Grent had been true to me I should have been true to him. But he deceived me; he tried to get me into trouble. I saw him place the notes in the safe on Friday night, and, remembering that he was to shew them to Miss Hargone at Mortality-lane, I wondered how he was going to steal them. Donna Maria came the next day before Julia paid me her visit, and I suspected something, as it was unusual for her to come to the bank. She asked me to bring her a glass of water so as to get me out of the room. Suspecting the trick I watched her through a crack in the door, and saw her rob the safe. Then I guessed that Grent intended, like the scoundrel he was, that I should be accused of the robbery. I was so enraged that I wished to thwart him, and when Julia came with her story, I advised her to get the money for our mutual benefit. Since by Grent's cunning scheme to save his own reputation, I was to be accused as a thief; I did not see why I should not have the money. I felt that I might as well be killed for a sheep as a lamb, so I do not see that can blame me."
"Well, well," said Torry, impatient at this moralising; "let it pass. When one is soaked through, rain does not matter. How about Julia?"
"She obeyed me. The rendezvous with Grent was at midnight in Mortality-lane, so I arranged to meet her at Cleopatra's Needle at one o'clock on Sunday morning."
"Why not at your own lodgings?"
"Because it is not wise to leave a trail to one's own door," retorted Vass, with a cunning look. "Well, Julia went to the rendezvous disguised as Miss Hargone, in a fawn-coloured mantle which Grent knew well. She got the money."
"How? By murdering Grent?"
"No; he gave it to her thinking she was Miss Hargone. Then----"
"Well, well; then----"
"I don't know what happened," said Vass helplessly. "Julia had not time to tell me all, when she was murdered."
"By whom?" cried Torry eagerly.
"By a man I don't know. It was this way. I was at the Needle at one o'clock, but she did not come. I waited for half an hour and then she came running to me."
"From which direction?"
"Northumberland-avenue."
"H'm; that agrees with the cabman's story," muttered Torry. "Go on."
"She came up to me at once," continued Vass rapidly, "and thrust the notes into my hands. I put them into my pocket, and she began to talk about Grent being dead. I had no time to ask her what she meant, for a man in a long coat came running along from Northumberland-avenue direction, and threw himself on her with an open knife. I saw it flash in the faint starlight. Julia turned to face him with a cry, and the knife went right into her heart. I was so terrified and amazed that, as she fell, I took to my heels and ran along in the direction of the Strand."
"Did the man follow you?"
"Not immediately. From a backward glance I saw that he was bending over Julia's body, looking for the notes, I suppose. I ran on as hard as ever I could, but when I was racing up into the Strand I fancied my haste would look suspicious, so I walked as quickly as I could. In the Strand I picked up a cab and drove to Hyde Park corner, then I walked to Victoria Station and took a cab home to my lodgings in Westminster. I was too terrified to do anything but fly."
"You are sure you were not followed?"
"I fancied I heard the man running after me on the Embankment, but I am not sure. All I wished to do, since Julia was dead, was to save myself."
"What was the man like?"
"He had a long coat, a soft hat, and a black beard; but the whole thing passed so suddenly that I had no time to notice anything."
"Soft hat, long coat, black beard," said Torry; "exactly what Main described. There is no doubt that the man who killed Grent killed Julia. Well," he added, turning to Vass, with a grim look, "is that all you have to say?"
"Yes, all; except that I returned the money to Captain Manuel at his hotel."
"Oh," cried Darrel, "so you were the red-haired man."
"Yes. I was afraid to go without a disguise lest I should meet Manuel and be questioned by him."
"Why did you return the money?" asked Torry sharply.
"Because I had no use for it, If Julia had lived I should have taken her and the money to Australia as I said before, but as that villain killed her I had no heart to keep it."
"What villain do you mean?"
"The man who killed her."
"Don't you know who it was?"
"If I did," cried Vass, with a light flashing into his usually cold eyes, "I'd murder him."
"You have no suspicion?"
"No; I can think of no one. Julia might have told me the name. I daresay she would have done so, but that the wretch killed her."
"Just in time to save himself from being betrayed," said Torry. "And now, Mr. Vass, why did you not tell us this before?"
"I was afraid of being accused of the murder, so I held my tongue."
"More fool you. You might have saved us a deal of trouble had you been more open. As it is, I believe your story. You stole the notes, but you restored them; and I know you are innocent of the other crime. Well, sir, I won't execute this warrant so you can go back to your work on one condition."
"What is it?" said Vass, anxiously.
"That you hold your tongue."
"Oh, I'll do that," said the secretary joyfully, and departed in all haste, glad to have got off so easily in that terrible interview.
"Do you believe his story?" asked Darrel, when the door closed.
"Every word of it," was Torry's prompt reply. "That creature hasn't the spirit of a rabbit. Catch him committing one murder, let alone two. Not he; I expect the poor devil has been in torture with this on his mind. No doubt he is glad I made him confess."
"I don't like him; he's a sneak."
"So he is, and a coward, sir; but," added Torry with emphasis, "he is not a murderer."
After this conversation the detective went away to seek for more evidence, and Darrel remained to muse over all that had been obtained. In spite of all that was known, the case seemed as complicated as ever, and the mystery as deep. If Darrel had been writing this criminal matter as a fiction, his ingenuity would have suggested a fitting ending; but he could not see how Fate intended to work it out. Perhaps Fate designed to leave her matter-of-fact romance unfinished. Perplexed by the problem and the apparent impossibility of its solution, Frank left Fate to conclude her own story, and turned to continue one of his own. In a few moments he was oblivious to all but the words which were rapidly filling the paper before him under the influence of brain and hand.
But it seemed that he was doomed to be interrupted. Just as he was warming to his work, Blake entered to make a morning call; and as there was no chance of writing while this rattle-pated Irishman was in the room, Darrel put away his papers with some vexation.
"Well," said Blake, after the first greeting had passed, "how is the case getting on?"
"We have found some new evidence," replied Darrel; "but none likely to please you."
"Why not?"
"Because it proves beyond all doubt that Miss Hargone sent Julia to that rendezvous."
"Prove it by telling me the evidence," cried Blake flushing.
Darrel was nothing loth. Suppressing the fact that the money had been returned--a fact which Torry did not want known--he told Blake all that Donna Maria had said, and all that Vass had confessed. Roderick listened in silence, but his brow grew black as the story proceeded. When Darrel ended, he said:
"So Vass has the money; I hope he'll be punished for stealing it. As to the black-bearded man, I say now, as I said before, that he is Manuel. That Spaniard, and no other, killed those poor wretches."
"Do you think, from what I have told you, that Miss Hargone knows who went with Julia to Mortality-lane?"
"She might know," said Roderick scowling. "I'll ask her. Darrel, I am not at all satisfied with Lydia. If she played fast and loose with Grent, she will some day do the same with me. She seems to know more of this black business than she should do, and I'll marry no woman who is under such a cloud. I'll ask her to explain all about this Mortality-lane business, and if she can't explain to my satisfaction, I'll give her up."
"Indeed, I think you will be wise to do so, Roderick. I don't think she is a good woman. But if she confesses, you must tell me what she says."
"I'll come and see you as soon as I get the truth out of her. I hope she is innocent, for I love her, Darrel. But my heart misgives me; God help me, it misgives me slowly." And Blake, quite changed from his usual merry self, walked out of the room with hanging head. Darrel was quite sorry for the poor fellow, but found a morsel of philosophy in his grief.
"Ah, well," thought he, "Blake isn't the first man who has been deceived by a woman. It is better to find out a woman's character before marriage than after. I hope he'll escape Lydia Hargone's clutches. She's a snake in the grass, if ever there was one."
Two day's afterwards, Torry reappeared in Darrel's room, accompanied by Vass. Both men were very much excited, and laid before Frank a letter.
"There," said Torry smoothing out the envelope, "what do you think that is?"
"A letter to Mr. Vass," replied Frank, looking at the address.
"More than that," cried the secretary in his high, thin voice. "It is a letter from the man who killed Grent and Julia Brawn."