Devil's Dice

by William Le Queux

my story, I detailed the conversation I had overheard atBlatherwycke between Markwick and the Countess, described my visit tothe house in Gloucester Square, my encounter with Dora, the subsequentdiscovery of a body, and the theft of the half-burnt letters from my ownroom.

  When I had concluded he was silent for a long time. My story wasevidently more startling and complicated than he had expected, and hewas apparently weighing the evidence against the man suspected.

  "You say you still have the key of this house in your possession." Inodded.

  "Very well. We will search the place as a preliminary."

  "When?"

  "At once. I must have a few words with the Chief first; but if youdon't mind waiting ten minutes or so. I'll be ready to go with you."

  He brought me a newspaper, and for about a quarter of an hour I idledover it, until he again returned, accompanied by one of his men, whocarried in his hand a small crowbar, a police bull's-eye, and a box ofmatches. These he placed carefully in his pocket, while Grindlayglanced through some papers, and in a few minutes we all three entered acab, and drove rapidly to Radnor Place, alighting at some littledistance from the house.

  Noiselessly I opened the great hall-door and we entered. When I hadclosed the door again, the inspector turned to his companion, saying:

  "Remain here, and make no noise. It seems to me probable that someperson may be concealed here. Detain anyone who attempts to get out."

  "Very well, sir," the man answered, giving his superior the crowbar,lantern, and matches; and in a few moments I led Grindlay down to thecellar in which I had been imprisoned.

  We found it without difficulty, and on entering I saw that the trunkcontaining the body was in the same position in which I had left it.Eagerly the detective advanced, pushed the lid aside, and directed thelight upon its contents.

  "It's been put in face downwards," he said, as I stood back, dreading togaze upon a sight that I knew must be horrible. "It's a man, evidently,but in a fearful state of decomposition. Come, lend me a hand. We mustturn the box over, and get out of this place quickly. The smell isenough to give anybody a fever."

  Thus requested, I placed my hand at the end of the box, and together weemptied it out upon the flags.

  The sight was awful. The face was so terribly decomposed that it wasabsolutely unrecognisable; but the detective's keen eye noticed a gleamof gold amid the horrible mass of putrefaction, and, stooping, drewforth from the mass of decaying clothes a watch and chain. He rubbedthe watch upon a piece of old rag lying on the rubbish heap, then heldit close to the light. The back was elaborately engraved, and I sawthere was a monogram.

  "Initials," exclaimed the detective calmly. "This watch has alreadybeen described. It is his watch, and the letters are `G.S.'--GilbertSternroyd."

  "Gilbert!" I gasped. "Can it really be Sternroyd?" I cried, my eyesfixed upon the black awful heap.

  "No doubt whatever. The man is in evening dress. On his finger,there--can't you see it glittering?--is the diamond ring that Spink'ssupplied him with six weeks before his disappearance. This discovery atleast proves the theory I have held all along, that he has beenmurdered."

  "By whom?"

  "We have yet to discover that," he rejoined. "Do you know whatconnection your friend Bethune had with this house?"

  "None, as far as I am aware," I replied.

  "It is apparent though, that he was well acquainted with the lady towhom you were married here."

  I admitted the truth of these words, but he did not pursue the subjectfurther.

  Kneeling beside the body he took from its withered hand the ring he hadindicated and slipped it into his pocket, afterward examining theremains rather minutely. Then, rising, he made a cursory examination ofthe heap of lumber, looked at the narrow crevice above, and at lastsuggested that we should set forth to make a thorough search of theplace.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

  MOST REMARKABLE.

  My former experiences had unnerved me, so I armed myself, with thecrowbar, and together we went through the basement rooms, where onlyrats and dirt attracted our attention. Regaining the hall, Grindlayurged the necessity for making no noise, and having whispered the query"All right?" to his subordinate, receiving an assurance in theaffirmative from the man on guard, we together ascended the great flightof stairs.

  The place was silent as the grave, but our footsteps awoke no echoes aswe gained the staircase and softly crept into the once handsome, but nowfaded, moth-eaten drawing-room.

  Crossing the great apartment we came to the small door that Dora hadopened at the moment I had been struck down. The crimson-shaded lamp,now burned out, still stood upon the table, but the door leading to theinner chamber, wherein some unknown sight had so strangely affected her,was closed and secured by a wide, strong iron bar placed right across inthe manner that window shutters are barred.

  "Hulloa! What's this?" whispered the detective when he noticed it."There's some mystery here. Hold the lamp and lend me the jemmy."

  I handed him the tool, and inserting the pronged end between thewood-work and one of the great sockets he gave it such a sudden wrenchthat the socket snapped.

  In an instant he had unbarred the door, and, throwing it open, dashedforward.

  I followed, but a cry of amazement escaped my lips. The room into whichthe detective and myself effected a forced entrance was small andshabby. It had apparently once been a boudoir, but the greater part ofthe furniture had long ago been removed, and what remained was dusty,faded and decaying. The shutters were closed, and secured by a heavypadlocked bar, and the cheap white-shaded lamp that burned dimly uponthe table did not shed sufficient light to fully illuminate the place.

  Suddenly, as Grindlay took the bull's-eye from my hand and turned itslight upon the opposite side of the room, we were both amazed todiscover lying upon one of those cheap convertible chair-bedsteads thatare the delight of lower-class housewives, a female form in a lightdress. With one accord we both advanced toward her. The woman's facewas turned from us, but our entrance apparently aroused her, and sheslowly moved and raised her head.

  From my lips there escaped an anguished cry of amazement.

  The blanched features were familiar, but upon them was such a strange,wild look that I stopped short to assure myself that this strange scenewas not merely imaginary.

  "My God!" I cried. "Dora, is it you?"

  Raising herself upon her elbow with a sudden movement she pushed herhair from her white brow, glared for a few moments at me with anunnatural fire in her eyes, then, without replying to my question, gavevent to a long, loud, discordant laugh.

  "Speak!" I urged, rushing toward her, grasping her hand. "Tell me howit is that we discover you here, locked in this room?"

  But she answered not. The light in her clear eyes grew more brilliantas she fixed her gaze inquiringly upon me. She did not recognise me.Her face was drawn and haggard, around her eyes were dark rings, and herfeatures that had been so admired seemed now almost hideous, while thedress she wore, soiled and tumbled, was the same handsome evening gownin which I had seen her determinedly entering that room.

  "Go!" she screamed suddenly. "Do not torture me, you brute! Let medie, I say! Let me kill myself!" and as she uttered the words she toreat her throat with both hands in an attempt to strangle herself.

  Grindlay flew to her side and with difficulty gripped her hands. Butshe seemed possessed of demon strength, and even the detective, muscularand athletic as he was, found he had a hard task to hold her down.

  "Do you know her?" he gasped at last, turning to me. "Who is she?"

  "An old friend," I answered, with poignant sorrow. "Her name is Dora;she is younger daughter of Lady Stretton."

  "Lady Stretton--Stretton," the detective repeated thoughtfully. "Thename is familiar. Ah! I remember. The lady who benefits so largely bythe murdered man's will is eldest daughter of her ladyship, isn't she?"

  I nodded in the affirmative, but the violen
t struggles of the would-besuicide interrupted our conversation, and our combined efforts werenecessary in order to prevent her from accomplishing her purpose.

  The melancholy fact could not be disguised that Dora, whose beauty hadbeen so frequently commented upon by Society journals, and whoseappearance in ball-rooms since she "came out" had never failed to causea sensation, was actually insane. The bright fire of madness was in hereyes as she wildly accused me of unknown crimes. She did not address meby name, but evidently in her hallucination believed me to be an enemyof whom she had just cause for the bitterest hatred. When I tried toseize her hands she shrank from me as if my contact stung her, and whenI gripped her determinedly she fought and bit with a strength of which Ihad never believed a woman capable.

  In the fierce straggle the lamp was nearly overturned, and at lengthGrindlay, finding that all attempts to calm her proved futile, slipped apair of handcuffs from his pocket and with a murmur of apology fortreating any friend of mine, and especially a lady, with such indignity,he locked them upon her slender wrists.

  "It is the only way we can manage her," he said. "We must, however, becareful of her head."

  Already she was swaying her head from side to side, uttering strings ofwild, incoherent words, and after brief consultation it was arrangedthat the detective should call up his assistant, who had remained onguard below, and we should then convey the unfortunate girl to her home.

  After two shrill blasts upon the inspector's whistle we were quicklyjoined by his assistant, who, without betraying any surprise at thisdiscovery, recognised the position of affairs at a glance, and at onceheld Dora's head, in order to prevent her injuring herself.

  "Remain here, and keep a sharp eye on her while we search the place,"Grindlay commanded; and taking up the lantern and jemmy we returnedtogether to the spacious, faded room wherein the strange marriageceremony had taken place. The boudoir had no other door leading out ofit, except the one communicating with the larger apartment that we hadburst open, and with its window closely shuttered, the cries of anyperson held captive were not likely to be heard, for the windowoverlooked the garden, and there were no passers-by.

  From the floor whereon we had made this amazing discovery we ascended,searching diligently, even to the garrets, but found nothing noteworthy.Each room was dusty, neglected, and decaying, but they showed plainlythat the mansion had once been furnished in luxurious tasteful style,and that its splendour had long ago departed.

  When we had arrived at the topmost garret, Grindlay, who had movedquickly, almost silently, poking into every corner, and leaving no placeuninspected large enough for any person to conceal himself, paused, and,turning to me, said:

  "This affair is, I confess, a most remarkable one! In the same house,to all appearances closed and uninhabited, we find the body of themurdered man concealed, and the sister of the woman he admired insane,apparently held captive."

  "By whom?" I queried.

  "Ah! We must ascertain that," he said, flashing his lantern suddenlyinto a far corner, but finding nothing. "There must be someexceptionally strong motive for keeping your young lady friend away fromher home. Has she, as far as you are aware, ever before shown signs ofinsanity?"

  "Never; I have known her ever since a child, and her mind has beenalways normal. She was particularly intelligent, an excellent pianist,and a fair linguist."

  "Some sight unusually horrible, a paroxysm of bitter grief, or somegreat terror, may have temporarily unhinged her mind. Let us hope it isnot incurable," he said, sympathetically.

  "Do you think she is really demented?" I asked eagerly. "Will shenever recover?"

  "I really can't tell you; I'm not a mental specialist," he answered."It's true that I've seen two similar cases among women."

  "And did they recover?"

  He hesitated, then looking at me gravely he answered: "No; unfortunatelythey did not One woman, whose symptoms were similar, had murdered herchild. The other had so severely injured her husband by throwing alighted lamp at him that he is incurable. Both are now at WokingAsylum."

  "Is there no hope for them?"

  "None. In each case I made the arrest, and the doctor afterward told methat their condition of mind was consequent upon the realisation of theenormity of their crimes."

  Dora's symptoms were the same as those of murderesses. Such suggestionwas appalling.

  "Do you then suspect that Lady Stretton's daughter, Mabel, is--hascommitted a crime?"

  "Hardly that," he replied, quickly. "We must, I think, seek for theguilty one in another quarter." He seemed to speak with conviction.

  "In which quarter?" I eagerly inquired.

  "I have formed no definite opinion at present," he replied quietly. "Ifwe can induce your lady friend to speak rationally for a few minutes shemay confirm or dispel my suspicions. Our discoveries this evening havemade one fact plain, and they will be the cause of the withdrawal of onewarrant," he added, looking at me with a curious smile.

  "For whose arrest?"

  "Your own."

  "A warrant for my arrest!" I cried in dismay. "What do you mean? Ihave committed no offence."

  "Exactly. I have already proved that to my entire satisfaction, andthat is the reason the warrant in my pocket will to-morrow becancelled."

  "But why was it ever issued?" I demanded.

  "Because certain suspicions attached themselves to you. Did it neveroccur to you that it was you yourself upon whom I was keepingobservation on that evening we spent together at the Empire?"

  "It did; but the suggestion seemed so preposterous that I cast it aside.Now, however, I see that the reason you took me to Scotland Yard was toshow me two photographs in your book. One was a picture of myself, andthe other that of a woman I loved--"

  "You loved her--eh?" he interrupted.

  "Yes. But why do you speak in that tone?" I inquired. "You seem tosuggest that my affection was misdirected."

  "Pardon me," he said politely. "I suggest nothing--nothing beyond thefact that it was an indiscretion, as was surely proved by later events."

  "Later events!" I echoed. "Then you know the truth, Grindlay! Tellme--tell me all, if you are my friend."

  "Before we make an arrest our clues are secret," the inspector said, notunkindly. "By divulging any of them the ends of justice may bedefeated. All I can tell you at present is, that we held a warrant forthe arrest of that lady whose portrait adorns our collection, and it wasnot executed, for the reason stated below it in red ink."

  "Because she died. Yes; I am aware of it," I said. "I was present whenshe breathed her last, when the police burst into this house, and whenthey retired on finding the person `wanted' was no longer alive. Butfor what offence was that warrant issued? Surely I, her husband, have aright to know?"

  "I regret, Mr Ridgeway, I am unable to tell you," he replied evasively."You must be well aware that I was abroad at the time, and the warrant,therefore, did not pass through my hands."

  I saw in this a polite refusal to give me the information I sought, andwas piqued in consequence. Soon we descended the stairs to the roomwhere Dora remained, still uttering incoherent sentences, and afterconsultation the two police officers called a cab, and having placed theunfortunate girl in it we all drove to Lady Stretton's, the inspectorhaving first taken the precaution to send to the nearest police stationfor a "plain-clothes man" to mount guard over the house wherein the bodyof the murdered man was lying.

  Our arrival at Lady Stretton's caused the greatest consternation amongthe servants, her ladyship, and her two lady visitors. Lady Strettonherself fainted, the family doctor, a noted mental specialist, wasquickly summoned, and Dora taken to her room. From the servants Igathered that Dora had only been absent from home for two days, and thatvery little anxiety had been felt on her account, for it was believedthat having had some disagreement with her mother, and having announcedher intention of visiting some friends in Yorkshire, she had gonethither.

  It was, howeve
r, a most severe blow to all when she returned in thecustody of two police officers a raving lunatic.

  The doctor, who could obtain no rational reply to any of his questions,summoned another great specialist on mental ailments, who quicklypronounced the case as extremely grave, but not altogether incurable.Insanity of the character from which she was suffering frequently, hesaid, took a most acute form, but he was not without hope that, withcareful and proper treatment, the balance of her mind might again berestored. The family were instructed not to allow, on any account, anyquestion to be put to her regarding the manner in which the attack hadcommenced. The strain of endeavouring to recollect would, the doctorassured us, do her incalculable harm.

  Grindlay remained with me at Lady Stretton's for an hour or more, andwhen we left we drove together as far as my chambers, where I alighted,while he went on to Scotland Yard.

  "Remember," he said, before I wished him good-night, and promised to seehim on the morrow, "not a word to a soul that we have discovered thebody. Only by keeping our own counsel, and acting with the greatestdiscretion and patience, can we arrest the guilty one."

  "Grindlay, you suspect my friend, Captain Bethune," I said. "It'suseless to deny it."

  "It is the privilege of a man in my profession to suspect, and hissuspicions often fall on innocent persons," he said, with a faint smile."The body has now been discovered,