Whom did Mrs. Hillmer marry? Was her husband alive or dead?
Was the man who conveyed Lady Dyke’s body from Raleigh Mansions to Putney responsible also for her death?
Finally, why did he select that particular portion of the Thames banks for the bestowal of his terrible burden?
Many other minor features suggested themselves for careful attention, but the barrister knew that if he elucidated some of the major questions the rest would answer themselves.
The last query promised to yield a good crop of information should it be satisfactorily dealt with. Turning to his notes, he found that the former owner of the Putney house was a tutor or preparatory schoolmaster, named the Rev. Septimus Childe.
Could it be that this was the school in which both Sir Charles Dyke and Mensmore were fellow-students? If so, Bruce failed to see why he should not forthwith place the whole of the facts in his possession at the service of the police, and allow the law to take its course.
On this supposition, the case against Mensmore was very black; not, indeed, incapable of explanation—for circumstantial evidence occasionally plays strange pranks with logic—but of such a grave nature that no private individual would be justified in keeping his knowledge to himself.
The deduction was intensely disagreeable; but Bruce resolved to coerce his thoughts, and do that which was right, irrespective of consequences.
He did not possess a Clergy List. No letter came from Mrs. Hillmer, so he walked across the Park to his club in Pall Mall to consult the appropriately bound black and white volume which gives reference to the many degrees of the Church of England.