A woman's debt

by William Le Queux

This young man might be one of these. He might be hard pressed for money, the victim even of some blackmailer who had become possessed of a terrible secret in his double life, and had risked all his bright prospects on the chance that Morrice would disbelieve the evidence of his senses, and accept his bare denial that he was innocent, in spite of the damning evidence against him.

But if he was clever enough to scheme out such an artfully-planned robbery, either alone or with the aid of a confederate, would he not be clever enough to see that scrupulous honesty and fidelity to his employer was the best policy? For Morrice, according to Rosabelle’s account, had treated him like a son; there was little doubt that he intended to take him into partnership at an early date, and would leave him a considerable slice of his vast fortune. There was no doubt of his wealth, for, by common consent, he was reputed to be amongst the half-dozen richest men in England.

Then there was no doubt that the two young people were lovers. Would a man, capable of a moment’s sane thought, put in certain jeopardy his chances of happiness with this charming and lovable girl?

But then, of course, crimes would never be perpetrated if the criminals could foresee all the consequences likely to flow from their yielding to sudden impulses. At the fatal moment they appeared to be driven forward by some blind force which, for the moment, they were unable to fight against. And so it might have happened in the case of this young man, who, according to Rosabelle’s testimony, had led such a regular and blameless life.

Turning his attention to the other of the two men, Rupert Morrice himself, the detective found the situation one of greater complexity. Strange as it may sound, men have robbed themselves before now and done their best to fix the guilt upon others, from more than one sinister motive. For instance, a man knowing himself to be on the verge of bankruptcy might, in desperation, purloin some of his own property to put it in a safe place beyond the reach of his creditors. In the case of this wealthy financier, whose credit stood so high, such a theory might be at once dismissed.

At first blush, the refusal to apply to Scotland Yard might seem a trifle suspicious, might suggest that he had a personal interest in stifling independent investigation. But when one considered the unusual circumstances, the action seemed only a natural one.

According to Rosabelle’s statement, Morrice had treated the young man as a son; not only had he a great affection for him, but that affection had been accentuated by the elder man’s passionate love for the mother. However deep his belief in his guilt, a father does not hand over a son to be dealt with by the stern processes of justice. He may dismiss him from his house, he may refuse to hold further intercourse with him, but he shields him, where possible, from the fatal consequences of his rash act.

There was, however, one point on which he wished to be assured, and which caused him to put a certain question to the girl.

“I am going to ask you something, Miss Sheldon, not, believe me, from any spirit of impertinent curiosity, but because it is essential that I should be acquainted with every little fact. I am assuming that your interest in Mr. Croxton arises from a warmer feeling than that of mere friendship. Am I not right in saying that there is a close bond between you; that, to put it in plain words, you are lovers?”

Rosabelle admitted quite frankly that Lane was right in his surmise.