Samuel Boyd of Catchpole Square: A Mystery

by B. L. Farjeon

  CHAPTER LII.

  ARRESTED FOR MURDER.

  "A moment, Reginald," said Uncle Rob, in a low tone, laying his handon the young man's arm.

  As the men fell back a pace or two they came face to face with Mrs.Death. In his heart Reginald believed Abel Death to be innocent, andeven in the midst of his own trouble he would have addressed a word ofcomfort to her, but she, distracted by grief and indignant horror,held up her hands as if to ward him off, and brushed past him into theopen. She had been present during the whole of the inquest, but hermind was in too agitated a state to pay close attention to any of theevidence except those parts which affected her husband, and she hadtherefore, until she heard the Coroner's address to the jury, missedthe significance of the contradiction she had given to the statementof Dr. Pye as to the hour he had seen a man come from Samuel Boyd'shouse in Catchpole Square. In justice to her it must be said that evenif she had recognised it when she was under examination she would nothave withheld it, for she was a fair-minded woman, and was stillgrateful for the kindness the young man had once shown them. But itseemed to her now that in weakening the case against Reginald she hadstrengthened it against her husband, and it was this that caused herto reject with horror the advances which Reginald had made towardsher.

  "She believes me guilty," thought Reginald, as she disappeared throughthe door of the court; and then, turning to Uncle Rob, he said, "Whatis it?"

  "Detective Lambert is waiting outside," said Uncle Rob in a low tone.

  "For me?"

  "For you."

  Reginald could not help being startled, though he had been all dayinwardly preparing himself. Stepping to Aunt Rob's side he said, in atone of assumed lightness, "We are full of secrets just now. I haveone for you; Florence won't mind." Drawing her away he whispered,"Take Florence home."

  He had not time to say more, for Florence, although she had not heardwhat had passed had caught its sense, and she now glided swiftly tohis side, and clung close to his arm.

  "Go home, dearest," he said. "I am going to walk with your father tothe station."

  "We will walk with you," said Florence, and then in an imploring tone,"Do not send me away from you till the last moment!"

  "Why, Florence, my love," said Reginald, as if in surprise, but hereAunt Rob interposed.

  "There must be no more secrets. Don't keep anything from us, father.Tell us the worst; we can bear it."

  Uncle Rob looked at Reginald, who nodded, and passed his arm roundFlorence's waist.

  "Lambert has been talking to me," said Uncle Rob; "he has behaved veryconsiderately, and asked me to break it to you." His voice faltered."He has a warrant for Reginald's arrest. Courage, my dears, courage!"

  This little party, at whom so terrible a blow was dealt, now stoodapart and alone, and what they said could be heard only by themselves.Aunt Rob drew a long breath.

  "It's what we've been waiting for," she said, "and it had to come.Reginald will face it like a man, and will fling the lie into theirfaces. Keep a stout heart, my lad."

  "If I suffer," he replied, "it is because of the grief I have broughtinto my dear Florence's life."

  "It is not a grief of your creating, dear," said Florence, "and youhave brought nothing into my life which has not strengthened my lovefor you. I put my trust in God." She bent down, and pressed her lipsupon his hand; the night had fallen, and those at a distance could notsee the action. "Oh, my dear, my dear! He will not allow the innocentto suffer."

  "Be brave, for my sake, dearest."

  "I will be. I am." And in her heart was the prayer, "God shield mybeloved! God protect him!"

  They issued into the open air, and stood by Lambert's side in silence.The only movement he made was to beckon to a constable, and,whispering a few words to him, to point somewhat conspicuously to thejuror who had shown himself so inimical to Reginald. All the otherjurymen had taken their departure; this man alone was waiting.

  If Lambert's aim was to arouse in him the aggressive spirit of whichhe had given frequent instances during the inquest, it was gained, forthe juror walked up to the detective, and inquired if he had pointedat him with any particular design, and if so, what it was and what hemeant by it. Lambert stroked his chin and did not answer.

  "The road's free to all, I suppose," pursued the man, nettled atLambert's silence; his voice was loud and offensive.

  "Now you mention it," observed Lambert, slowly considering theproposition, "it is."

  "I thought so," said the man, and was at a loss what next to say, forLambert had fallen into a meditative mood, and to feel for a pimple onhis chin seemed to be of assistance to him.

  The appearance of another person upon the scene, who halted, however,at a distance of a dozen yards or so, with her black eyes fixed uponthe juror, was not noticed by any of them, except perhaps by themeditative detective.

  "Move on," said the constable whom Lambert had addressed, and someidlers, who had shown a disposition to linger, sauntered away. Thejuror held his ground, but was not at his ease, for he felt thatLambert's eye was on him, and to be thus meditatively observed by animperturbable detective was enough to make any man uneasy. PresentlyLambert roused himself from his brown study.

  "Which direction are you going to take?" he said to the Juror.

  "Why do you want to know?" asked the man.

  "Because I will take the other, and I've a hundred things to attendto."

  "Who's hindering you?"

  "You, Mr. Rawdon. That's your name, I believe."

  "I'm not ashamed of it," said Mr. Rawdon, with a slight start.

  "Why should you be?" remarked Lambert quietly. "It's the name you wereborn to. I'm not ashamed of mine; to tell you the truth, I'm ratherproud of it. What we've got to do with our names, whether we like 'emor not, is to make 'em a credit to ourselves and our families. Andwe're born, not only to names that stick to us, but to tempers thatstick to us. Now, when I see a man showing a nasty temper, I castabout in my mind for something that will soothe his ruffled feelings.That's what I've been thinking about. 'What can I do,' says I tomyself, 'that will soothe Mr. Rawdon's ruffled feelings?' And it'scome over me to put it in the shape of a question, if you've noobjection."

  "Let's hear what it is," said Mr. Rawdon, upon whom the detective'swords did not seem to have a soothing effect.

  "It's a question," continued Lambert, "that I wouldn't put to youpublicly if it wasn't that we're playing a sort of game, you and me, asort of trying to tire one another out, because, you know, Mr. Rawdon,there's many a thing in a man's life he'd prefer to keep to himself.As for tiring me out, you couldn't do it, Mr. Rawdon. It's well knownthat Detective Lambert is the most patient man in the whole policeforce, and it's well known, too, that he never mixes himself up withother people's private affairs unless he has the best of reasons forit."

  "Aren't you losing sight of your question?" asked Mr. Rawdon sullenly.

  "No, I'm not; I'm coming to it; but I'm naturally a slow man--slow_and_ sure. It's happened on occasions that I've been a long timetaking aim; but then I never miss; and I never do anythingdefinite--anything definite, mind--or say anything definite (which iswhat I'm going to say now), without a motive. Now, _do_ you understandthat?" No voice could be more persuasive than that in which heexplained himself to Mr. Rawdon.

  "Oh, I understand it," said that individual.

  "And so could a blind dog, if it was put to him forcible. It eases mymind; I give you my word, it eases my mind. Pay particular attentionto the question, Mr. Rawdon: there's a lot hanging to it that thepresent company--my friend Inspector Robson and his good wife, and myfriend Mr. Reginald Boyd and _his_ good wife--haven't the slightestunderstanding of. Which makes it all the more comfortable for you andme, because it's between us. Are you ready, Mr. Rawdon?"

  "Quite ready, Mr. Lambert."

  "Well, then. What is the amount of the judgment obtained against youby Mr. Ezra Lynn, how much do you owe him altogether, and
whatarrangement has lately been made between you? And if that's threequestions instead of one I hope you'll excuse me."

  So saying, Detective Lambert rubbed his chin, and shed a genial smileupon Mr. Rawdon, whose perturbation was so great that he seemed to bedeprived of the power of speech.

  "If you want time to chew it over," continued Lambert, "take time.There's been many a knotty point raised in this inquiry into theCatchpole Square Mystery; one or two more or less won't matter much.Take your time, Mr. Rawdon, take your time. Go home and chew it over."

  In obedience to a motion of his eyebrows imperceptible to all but theconstable, that official bustled forward with his "Move on, please,move on"; and as though he were glad of an excuse to set his limbs inmotion Mr. Rawdon moved slowly away, in the opposite direction to theBishop Street Police Station. The other person, little Gracie, who hadbeen watching the group, moved stealthily after him, and in a momentor two the man and the girl had turned the corner of the street.

  Lambert smiled in self-approval, and the next moment became grave ashe touched Reginald on the arm. "Now, Mr. Boyd."

  Florence quivered as though she had been stung, but instantlyrecovered herself.

  "I am at your disposal, Mr. Lambert," said Reginald. "You have awarrant for my arrest."

  "I have; and I'll read it to you at the Bishop Street Police Station.I would take you to another, but as I've already explained to theInspector it is the proper station to take you to, as the charge willhave to be heard at the Bishop Street Police Court."

  "Will it be heard to-morrow?"

  "To-morrow. It will be merely formal, and there'll be a remand, for aweek I should say. That is what will be asked for. I am acting underinstructions." He turned to Florence and Aunt Rob. "I hope you'll nottake it amiss, ladies. Duty's duty, and it's hard to do sometimes. Mr.Boyd and I will walk quietly to the station with Inspector Robson.I'll keep people off while you say good-bye." He turned his back tothem, from motives of delicacy, and to serve as a screen.

  "Would there be any objection, Mr. Lambert," said Aunt Rob, "to ourwalking with him as far as the station?" She spoke stiffly andseverely: despite the manifest friendliness of the detective she couldnot forgive him.

  "None in the world, if you wish it."

  "We do wish it," said Florence, timidly.

  "Give an arm to the ladies," said Lambert to Reginald. "The Inspectorand I will walk on behind. You would hardly believe it, but at thistime every Thursday night I get a singing in my ears that makes mequite deaf. An old complaint; had it from childhood; it comes onsuddenly; I've got it now."

  He fell back with Uncle Rob, and no person meeting them would havesupposed that a man was being arrested for murder. Within two or threehundred yards of Bishop Street Dick ran up to them, and he sawimmediately what was transpiring.

  "You have come in good time, Dick," said Reginald, pressing thefriendly hand. "Florence and Aunt Rob have no one to take them home.You see what is going on." Dick nodded. "Now that the suspense is overI feel relieved. I have something to face, and I can speak outboldly."

  "He must have a lawyer, Dick," said Aunt Rob.

  "It is being attended to, aunt."

  "I would have preferred to defend myself," said Reginald, "but Isuppose it would be unwise."

  "It would be folly," said Dick. "I saw your solicitor this afternoon,and we have agreed upon the barrister, Mr. Edward Pallaret. He rankshigh, and is generally on the right side."

  "On the just side, Dick."

  "That is what I meant, aunt."

  "Did you expect this, that you have gone so far?" she asked.

  "I have been expecting it all along. Is Lambert acting on his ownresponsibility?"

  "No, under instructions, he says."

  "Ah. Do you approve of Mr. Pallaret, Reginald?"

  "Yes. He is an honourable man."

  "He is; and a man that judges and magistrates listen to with respect.That is not the case with all lawyers. There are black sheep amongthem that damn a case the moment their names appear in it. I have apair of solicitors in my mind now, a couple of sharp, sneakingscoundrels who never yet have had the handling of a reputable case.Mr. Lamb is not a very eminent solicitor, but he is a respectable man,and it was he who suggested Mr. Pallaret. Don't be faint-hearted,Reginald; we'll pull you out of this with flying colours. Have any ofyou seen little Gracie Death to-day?"

  No, none of them had seen her.

  "She'll be at your house to-night, aunt, with news, perhaps. Here weare at the station."

  He made a secret motion to his uncle as they entered, and saying tothe others that they would join them presently, he and the Inspectorretired to a small room at the back of the office, where the latterkept his accoutrements, which he now proceeded to put on for the sadduties of the night.

  "Do you remember the talk we had together, Dick," said the Inspectormournfully, "on the night of the fog, when Mrs. Abel Death came inwith her little girl, and told us of the disappearance of her husband.We argued it out together, and the thought of a murder done was in ourminds. It's little more than a week ago, and it seems a year. Wedidn't think it would come to this."

  To Dick, also, it seemed as if months had passed instead of days, andas if he himself were a different being. Aimless, purposeless, then,with no object in life to lift him out of the lethargic state intowhich he had fallen, the hours now were all too short for the strangeand desperate task to which he had set his hand, the strangest andmost hazardous part of which had yet to be performed.

  "Lambert speaks fair," continued the Inspector, "but you are the rockupon which we must lean for safety. Oh, Dick, my lad, save my Florenceif you can from life-long misery!"

  "I'm bound to do it, uncle," said Dick, "or sink. Something whispersto me that I shall succeed. And now let me tell you--I may not haveanother opportunity. I'm going to see Florence and Aunt Rob home,where I've asked little Gracie to come and have a chat with me. Afterto-night it's on the cards that I shall disappear----"

  "Disappear!" cried the Inspector, catching his nephew by the arm.

  "Hush! They must not hear us. I mean that neither you nor they willknow where I am for a few days. There will be a notice stuck up on thehouse in Catchpole Square to the effect that all inquiries for me areto be made at your house, and that all letters for me are to be leftthere. If any inquiries are made, tell Aunt Rob and Florence thatthey're to say they are expecting me home at any moment, and don'tknow where I have gone to. Nothing more than that. I must leave thisto you, for I cannot confide in them. I am bound to keep my secret,and I could not answer the questions they would put to me in theiranxiety."

  "But, Dick----"

  Dick held up his hand. "There isn't a step I've taken in this affairthat hasn't been taken with only one end in view, the end we are allpraying for, and perhaps there are things I've kept from you becauseit would never have done to tell them to a police inspector. There wasyour duty as a public officer, and there were your feelings as afather. Would it have been right of me to bring these into conflict?"

  "I see that, my lad, I see that, and it has been a torture to me."

  "Look me in the face, uncle." He moved into the light, so that itcould be clearly seen. "Is it an honest face?"

  "Yes, my lad."

  "A face you can trust?"

  "Yes."

  "Then trust it, and act as I desire. You ask me to save Florence frommisery, and, with God's help and my own wits, that's what I feel I_shall_ do if I'm left free to follow out my plans. If I am hamperedin any way Reginald will lose his best defender. I've been in dangeronce to-day, and my wits saved me. We must get back to them, orthey'll be suspecting something. If you are satisfied with what I'vesaid, uncle, give me your hand."

  They clasped hands, and returned to the front office. Inspector Robsonstiffened himself, and walked to his desk. Then Lambert, who held thewarrant in his hand, read it aloud, but in a low tone, and advisedReginald to say nothing.

  "I am not afraid to speak," Reginald answered,
with a proud, defiantlook. "Until my innocence is proved I will proclaim it to all theworld."

  "Well said, my son," said Aunt Rob.

  Inspector Robson did not utter a word, but with a set face entered thecharge. Then Detective Lambert bade the Inspector good night, andpassed out of the scene. He offered no good-bye greeting to theothers, and seemingly took no notice of Aunt Rob's action when sheheld her skirts aside, so that he should not touch them. It was not inher heart to forgive him for the part he had played.

  When all the formalities were concluded Florence and Reginald, claspedin each other's arms, exchanged tender words of comfort and hope.

  "God bless you, my beloved husband," said the girl-wife. "He will makeyour innocence clear."

  "I have no fears," said Reginald. "God preserve you?"

  "Good night, my son," said Aunt Rob.

  There was not a tear in their eyes; each strove by outward calmness tosustain the other in this bitter trial. Inspector Robson never raisedhis eyes from the charge sheet.

  "Take care of her, Dick," said Reginald.

  "Trust to me, Reginald," said Dick, with a bright smile.

  So they left him, and proceeded through the dimly lighted streets toAunt Rob's house, and there they found Gracie waiting outside forDick.