"By George, he had! A purple spot; but not large enough to spoil his looks."
"I thought so!" said the detective, joyously. "So it was Arthur Ferris did it."
"Arthur who?" asked Lackland, gruffly.
"Arthur Ferris, of Chelsea, artist. He pawned the necklace; he stole the diamonds; he murdered Miss Gilmar. Hurrah! we've got him."
[CHAPTER XIII]
ARTHUR FERRIS
The unexpected discovery that Ferris had pawned the necklace, spurred Gebb to unusual activity. No longer doubtful how to act, he hastened to procure a warrant of arrest against the young man; yet before doing so, and to be certain that his belief was not a false one, he called first at Aaron and Nathan's. These worthy Jews he questioned closely concerning the necklace, and the man who had pawned it. The ornament corresponded in every way with the description furnished by Prain; and the individual, on the evidence of his appearance, and of the birth-mark on his right cheek, could not be mistaken for any one but Ferris. Furthermore, his connection with Edith, who in her turn was connected with the murdered woman, gave colour to Gebb's assumption that Ferris was the guilty person.
"I understand now why Miss Wedderburn fainted," said Gebb to himself. "She thought, when I mentioned him as her lover, that I had discovered the truth, and feared for his safety. No doubt, having informed him about that necklace, and Miss Gilmar's fear of death, he killed and robbed the woman in the hope that Dean would be blamed."
If things were as Gebb surmised, Ferris, in hoping that his crime would be laid to the charge of Dean, displayed an amount of cunning hardly compatible with his disposal of the plunder. He had accomplished the crime so cleverly, and had escaped so mysteriously, that Gebb could not understand why he had pawned the necklace so openly, the very next day, under the obviously false name of James Brown. The rashness nullified his former caution, for he might have guessed that information concerning the jewels would be sent to all pawnshops. As a criminal, Ferris evidently had to learn the A.B.C. of his craft.
"Why did he not wait until the storm blew over before pawning the necklace," murmured Gebb, much perplexed, "or, at least, take the stones out of their setting and sell them separately, either in London, Paris, or Amsterdam? Discovery would have been more difficult in that case. And why did he pawn them so hurriedly unless he intended to leave England? But in that case Edith Wedderburn would have known of his intended departure, and probably would have gone with him. Rum sort of cove he must be."