“Because it was essential that, in close association with us, we should have a doctor of reputation, able to assist when necessary, and give death-certificates for production to the various life insurance companies. You were known to us by repute as a clever but impecunious man, therefore it was decided that you should become our accomplice. With that object Tattersett, accompanied by a young woman, whom he paid to represent herself as Beryl Wynd, went to Doctors’ Commons, and petitioned for a special licence. Possession was obtained of the house in Queen’s-gate Gardens which I had occupied two years previously under the name of Ashwicke—for we used each other’s names just as circumstances required—paying the caretaker a ten-pound note; and, when all was in readiness, you were called and bribed to marry Beryl, who was already there, rendered helpless with unbalanced brain by the deadly vayana. I posed, as you will remember, as Wyndham Wynd, father of the young lady, and, after the marriage, in order to entrap you into becoming our accomplice, tempted you to take her life. You refused, therefore you also fell a victim to a cigarette steeped in a decoction of curare, handed you by the Major, and were sent out of the country, it being our intention, on your return, to threaten you with being a party to a fraudulent marriage, and thus compel you to become our accomplice.”
“But this paper which I found beneath her pillow?” And I took from my pocket the sheet of paper with the name of La Gioia upon it.
“It is a note I sent her, on the day before her visit to Queen’s-gate Gardens, in order to induce her to come and consult with me. She had evidently carried it in her pocket.”
“And this photograph?” I asked, showing him the picture I had found concealed in the Colonel’s study.
“We took that picture of her as she lay, apparently dead, for production afterwards to the life insurance company. The Colonel, who was a friend of Tattersett’s, must have found it in the latter’s room and secured it. It was only because two days after the marriage Sir Henry’s wife overheard a conversation between myself and Tattersett, in which you were mentioned, that we were prevented from making our gigantic coup against the life offices. While Beryl was asleep her ladyship found the wedding-ring. Then, knowing your address—for she had seen you with Doctor Raymond—she sought your acquaintance on your return, and, by ingenious questioning, became half convinced that you were actually Beryl’s husband. Your friend Raymond was slightly acquainted with her, and had been introduced to Beryl some months before.”
“But I cannot see why I should have been specially chosen as victim of this extraordinary plot,” my wife exclaimed, her arm linked in mine. “You say that Tattersett made a discovery which caused him to alter his plans. What was it?”
“He discovered a few hours after your marriage that you were his daughter!”
“His daughter—the daughter of that man?” she cried.
“Yes,” he answered seriously. “He did not know it, however, until when you were lying insensible after the marriage, he discovered upon your chest the tattoo-mark of the three hearts, which he himself had placed there years before. Then, overcome by remorse, he administered an antidote, placed you upon a seat in Hyde Park, and witched until you recovered consciousness and returned to Gloucester Square. It had before been arranged that an insurance already effected upon you should be claimed. The truth is,” he went on, “that Wyndham Ashwicke, alias Major Tattersett, first married in York the daughter of a cavalry officer, and by her you were born. A year afterwards, however, they separated, your mother died, and you were placed in the convent at Brunoy under the name of Wynd, while your father plunged into a life of dissipation on the Continent which ended in the marriage with this lady, then known as La Gioia.”
“It seems incredible?” my love declared. “I cannot believe it?”