The Crowned Skull

by Fergus Hume

  This story was new to Forde.

  ‘Who says that?’ he asked sharply, and wondering if the tale was true.

  ‘Mr. Polwin, for one, sir.’

  ‘Sir Hannibal’s steward?’

  ‘Yes, sir. Mr. Josiah Polwin; and, being the preacher also at Gwynne Chapel, he wouldn’t tell a lie.’

  ‘How does Mr. Polwin substantiate his statement?—no, stop! I won’t have the story second-hand. Send a note to Mr. Polwin and say that he is to come here and see me. I have a message for him from Sir Hannibal.’

  ‘Did you see him in London, sir?’ asked the landlady eagerly.

  ‘Yes. He is very indignant at the way in which he has been treated.’

  ‘Ah, sir, he’s not so indignant as the quarrymen, seeing that Miss Stretton sent them on a fool’s errand to the Grange. They went there, and nearly scared Mrs. Krent out of her wits when they found Sir Hannibal wasn’t there, as Miss Stretton said. She has had to keep quiet, as the quarrymen are so angry.’

  ‘Do you mean to say that they would attack her for saving the property of Sir Hannibal from an unprovoked assault?’

  ‘They are angry, sir,’ said Mrs. Tregar, evasively.

  ‘Where are the police?’

  ‘Oh, the police are looking after the matter, sir, and questioned Miss Stretton. She told how she had driven to Gwynne Station with Sir Hannibal, and the police are now watching the house she is staying at, so that she may be safe.’

  ‘Mrs. Tregar, all this is simply ridiculous. Miss Stretton has more brains in her head than all your people. Were Sir Hannibal guilty in any way, did the evidence point ever so slightly towards him as the author of the crime, he would have been arrested by the police. He is absolutely innocent, and has gone to town to complain about the quarrymen to the proper authorities. There will be some trouble over this riot, as it may be called.’

  ‘I’m sure I know very little about it, sir,’ said Mrs. Tregar, rather scared, and promptly disclaiming having anything to do with the matter. ‘I never did believe, myself, that Sir Hannibal had anything to do with killing the poor gentleman, in spite of Mr. Polwin’s talk.’

  ‘I am glad to hear that,’ said Forde dryly, ‘since it is Sir Hannibal’s intention on his return to sift this matter to the bottom and to punish those people who have maligned his character. Also, he will have the leader of the rioters arrested.’

  ‘That’s Anak,’ said Mrs. Tregar, decisively.

  ‘Who is Anak?’

  ‘Well, sir, it’s not rightly known. His mother is an old witch.’

  ‘What rubbish, Mrs. Tregar.’

  ‘It’s truth, sir. Anak is called so because he is so big; but his mother, Mrs. Carney, was deserted years ago by her husband, and now she lives near the quarry and gets her living by telling fortunes. Anak works in the quarries, and he led the men to the Dower House.’

  ‘In that case he will go to gaol, Mrs. Tregar. People cannot do these things without suffering for them. and you can take it from me, Mrs. Tregar, and you can tell everyone that Sir Hannibal Trevick is perfectly innocent, since he was at the fete when the crime was committed, and also had no motive for killing Mr. Bowring, seeing that the money has only been left to him in trust for the marriage.’

  ‘Well, it might be so, sir,’ said the landlady doubtfully.

  ‘It is so, and you had better tell everyone.’

  ‘I will, sir; and I’m sure you are a very kind young gentleman to speak so of Sir Hannibal, when he is parting you from Miss Dericka.’

  ‘We are not parted yet,’ said Forde dryly. ‘Sir Hannibal wishes the marriage with young Bowring to take place, but Miss Dericka objects.’

  ‘And quite right, too, sir, seeing what a handsome young gentleman you are. To think that she should marry that mad creature Morgan Bowring,’ cried Mrs. Tregar, raising her hands, ‘is too awful.’

  ‘You would like to see Miss Dericka married to me?’

  ‘Of course, sir, seeing how I have known you for years and years, and Miss Dericka is a kind, good young lady.’

  ‘Then, Mrs. Tregar, you can do me a good turn by telling everyone that Sir Hannibal is innocent on the grounds I have set forth. He will then know that I have defended him, and perhaps will let me marry Miss Dericka. Do you see?’

  ‘Yes, sir; but will he give back the money?’

  ‘Oh, a compromise of some sort will be arrived at,’ said Forde easily, and not wishing to say too much; ‘but help me and Miss Dericka if you can, Mrs. Tregar. You know the way.’

  The landlady nodded vigorously and withdrew to send a message to Polwin and to spread the new gossip. Forde leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee, certain that he had done the best that could be done. Once people began to believe that Sir Hannibal might possibly be innocent, and once they heard that he intended to defend his good name, the probability was that the scandal would die a natural death. The truth of Sir Hannibal’s innocence would soon filter down to the quarrymen, and then the baronet would be able to come back and settle matters in his own way. On the whole, the train had been fairly fired, and the consequent explosion would undoubtedly blow Sir Hannibal back into the niche he had occupied before the crime had taken place.

  Mr. Polwin did not hesitate to obey the summons. Within half an hour he made his appearance in Forde’s sitting-room, a timid, short, broad man, with pale eyes, and a blank white face like a full moon. He was badly dressed in ill-fitting black clothes, and appeared wonderfully harmless. A sheep would have shown more spirit. Mr. Forde thought it strange that Sir Hannibal should employ so obviously foolish a man. On the face of it, Josiah Polwin appeared incapable of managing any property, however small. Standing first on one leg and then on the other, he faced the keen-eyed young barrister, twisting a cloth cap in his hands and waiting to be addressed.

  ‘Well, Mr. Polwin,’ said Oswald briskly, and straddling his legs before the fire with his hands under his coat-tails, ‘and what is this tale you have been telling about your employer?’

  ‘What tale, sir?’ asked the other in a low, but not unpleasant voice.

  ‘Why, that Sir Hannibal left the Dower House on a motor-bicycle on the day, and about the time, Mr. Bowring was killed.’

  ‘Pardon me, sir,’ replied Polwin meekly. ‘I did not spread such a report, nor did I accuse Sir Hannibal of having anything to do with the matter. He certainly did go out that day, and on his motor-bicycle: I met him on the road.’

  ‘On the road where the murder was committed?’

  ‘No, sir. On the other road, which runs behind the hill.’

  ‘Then, to get to the spot where the granite fell Sir Hannibal would have to scramble over the hill from the other road?’

  ‘I never suggested such a thing, sir.’

  ‘Why did you speak of the matter at all?’

  Polwin went on balancing himself, first on one leg and then on the other, hesitating in his reply.

  ‘It was this way, sir. I was coming along the second road as I had been to see Mrs. Carney—’

  ‘She is Anak’s mother?’

  Polwin looked up swiftly, and then again dropped his eyes.

  ‘Yes, sir. She is a poor woman, to whom I go occasionally to carry a word of comfort. Her son Anak is employed in the quarries, which Sir Hannibal let to Mr. Bowring. I had been to see Mrs. Carney and was returning. Just outside the town on the second road, I met Sir Hannibal on his motor-bicycle. He asked me if I had seen Mr. Penrith driving Miss Stretton, as they had left the fete and he had come after them to give a letter to Miss Stretton. I said that I had not.’

  ‘I quite understand,’ said Forde. ‘They went by the first road, where the murder took place, and drove back when they heard the shot. Well?’

  ‘Sir Hannibal then said that he wanted a letter given to Miss Stretton, and asked me to take it, since he was wanted at the fete. I took the letter and went along the second road on the motor—’

  ‘How did Sir Hannibal return?’

  ‘On foot. H
e went back to the fete; at least, he said that he would.’

  ‘Did you catch up with Miss Stretton and Mr. Penrith?’

  ‘No, sir, because I was on the wrong road. They did go by the first road, as you know. I travelled along on the motor-bicycle as far as Mr. Penrith’s place, where Miss Stretton was staying, and there I left the letter. Then I came back again.’

  ‘By the same road?’

  ‘Yes, sir—by the second road. I returned to the Dower House, and some of the servants expressed surprise that I was riding Sir Hannibal’s bicycle, as he was so particular. I explained how the matter came about.’

  ‘Humph! The story is clear enough, and quite exonerates Sir Hannibal.’

  ‘I beg your pardon sir, but Anak—’

  ‘Yes; what about him?’

  ‘He declared to me that he saw Sir Hannibal near the quarries, where the murder was committed.’

  Chapter X A Strange Disappearance

  Forde stared at the meek steward, scarcely believing his ears when he heard what he was saying.

  ‘When did Anak say that?’

  ‘Only the other day,’ replied Polwin. ‘I have said nothing about it to anyone, and beg you to observe, Mr. Forde, that I never in any way accused Sir Hannibal of being concerned in this crime. All I said was that Sir Hannibal went out on his bicycle. I expect the feeling against my master arises from the accusation brought by Mrs. Krent.’

  ‘Oh, you know of that, do you, Polwin?’

  ‘Yes, sir; everyone knows of it. Mrs. Krent makes no secret that she thinks Sir Hannibal killed Mr. Bowring. That is, she did say so, but lately she seems to have changed her mind.’

  ‘Quite so,’ rejoined the barrister, thinking of the bribe which was to be paid to the malignant housekeeper. ‘Mrs. Krent, as a woman, would say things in a hurry, which were not true. You can see for yourself, Polwin, that Sir Hannibal, having left you on the second road near St. Ewalds, could not have got over to the place where the crime was committed.’

  ‘Across the moors he could, sir.’

  ‘Good heavens, man, do you insinuate—’

  ‘Nothing, sir, nothing,’ said the steward hurriedly. ‘Only Anak did say that he saw Sir Hannibal near the spot. I daresay he told the quarrymen that, and so they went to wreck the Dower House.’

  ‘Humph! Why should these quarrymen take up the cudgels so warmly on behalf of Bowring?’

  ‘Well, sir, Mr. Bowring was an extremely good master, and paid them large wages.’

  ‘Sir Hannibal, who now again possesses the quarries, will do the same.’

  ‘Sir Hannibal was never famous for liberality,’ said Polwin dryly; ‘and the quarrymen liked Mr. Bowring, who used to talk to them as though he were one of themselves.’

  ‘As I believe he was,’ snapped Forde, considerably upset by the information of the steward. ‘He was born hereabouts of poor parents, and only became a gentleman, so-called, after he returned from Africa. By the way, Mr. Polwin, did you know him there?’

  ‘Slightly. He and Sir Hannibal did business in some diamond transaction. I was very hard up in Africa, and there Sir Hannibal was kind to me in giving me employment.’

  ‘All the more reason that you should defend him now, Polwin.’

  ‘I am perfectly willing to do so, sir,’ said the steward earnestly. ‘Believe me, Mr. Forde, I am deeply grateful to Sir Hannibal for what he did for me. It was not I who set the rumour afloat, but Anak, and—and—’ Polwin hesitated, ‘and Miss Warry,’ he ended.

  ‘Miss Warry!’ Forde stared in surprise. ‘I thought she had gone to London.’

  ‘She is going, sir; but has not departed as yet. She went to Mrs. Carney, who knows about fortune-telling, and had a talk with her. Mrs. Carney asked her how she came to prophesy so truly, but she refused to give an explanation.’

  ‘Naturally, seeing that she wishes it to be thought that she prophesied the death from a knowledge of the unseen.’

  ‘Don’t you believe she did, Mr. Forde?’

  ‘No, Polwin, I do not. Miss Warry knows something.’

  Polwin nursed his chin in the hollow of his hand.

  ‘I believe she does, sir. She has stated very plainly that she believed Sir Hannibal to be guilty. And what with her story and Anak’s story, and a perversion of what I said about my master having gone out on the bicycle, the police are beginning to believe that Sir Hannibal is guilty.’

  ‘Good heavens! Things are indeed becoming serious, Polwin. But if the police suspect Sir Hannibal, why did they not arrest him?’

  ‘They would have done so, sir, had he not gone away. At least, Miss Stretton says so.’

  ‘I’ll see Miss Stretton, and also Miss Warry. Where is she?’

  Polwin mentioned a quiet boarding house a stone-throw from the mansion of Sir Hannibal.

  ‘You’ll see Anak also, sir?’

  ‘Certainly; he must have made a mistake.’

  ‘Then you don’t believe, sir, that Sir Hannibal killed—’

  ‘Assuredly I do not, Polwin,’ interrupted the young man angrily. ‘I can see no reason why Sir Hannibal should have killed Mr. Bowring.’

  ‘They say that the money—’

  Forde interrupted again. ‘Ridiculous! Sir Hannibal knew nothing about the will making him the heir. And, again, Polwin, you can tell everyone that the money is left in trust for Miss Trevick and Morgan Bowring on condition that they marry.’

  Polwin started and appeared disturbed.

  ‘Is that marriage likely to take place, sir?’

  ‘Perhaps. At all events, Sir Hannibal is agreeable.’

  ‘And the young lady, sir? I thought,’—Polwin looked very directly at the barrister—‘that Miss Dericka had other views.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Forde again, and somewhat carelessly. ‘At all events I understand that such a match may take place. But you can see, Polwin, that if the money was thus left there was no reason why Sir Hannibal should murder Mr. Bowring. Unless,’ added Forde keenly, ‘you, Mr. Polwin, know of some reason.’

  ‘How should I know, sir?’

  ‘What about Sir Hannibal and Mr. Bowring in Africa?’ asked Forde, abruptly.

  ‘They were partners, sir, in some diamond transactions.’

  ‘And good friends?’

  ‘I really cannot say, sir,’ said Polwin, coldly; ‘they appeared to be good friends.’

  ‘Humph!’ said Oswald, rather dissatisfied. ‘And the skull?’

  ‘What skull, Mr. Forde?’

  ‘That placed in Miss Warry’s tent by an unknown person.’

  ‘I know nothing about that, Mr. Forde. Sir Hannibal will be the most likely person to explain.’

  ‘Sir Hannibal declares he knows nothing. Come, now, Mr. Polwin; you must be aware of some circumstance in Mr. Bowring’s past life—in Africa, we’ll say—which is connected with his fear of the skull.’

  ‘I swear I know nothing,’ replied Polwin, a trifle sullenly; then his face cleared and he looked pleadingly towards the young man. ‘Sir, I am only too anxious to be of service to Sir Hannibal, who has been a kind and good friend to me.’

  ‘That sounds genuine enough,’ said Forde, looking keenly into the meek face of the steward. ‘Well, Mr. Polwin, and what do you advise?’

  ‘What you have already suggested, sir. See Miss Warry and Anak and Miss Stretton and Mrs. Carney.’

  ‘Why Mrs. Carney?’

  ‘Miss Warry may have said something to her about her prophecy of Mr. Bowring’s death.’

  ‘But you told me that Miss Warry refuses to speak.’

  ‘Mrs. Carney told me so, sir, but Mrs. Carney may tell you otherwise. I daresay Miss Warry paid Mrs. Carney to hold her tongue.’

  Forde looked at the ground and moved the hearthrug with his foot dreamily.

  ‘There seems to be considerable muddling over this matter, and I don’t quite see my way. However, it will be best to do what you say, Mr. Polwin. I’ll see the people you mention.’

  ‘And advise
Sir Hannibal to keep away, sir,’ advised Polwin earnestly, ‘else he may be arrested.’

  ‘That will be the very best thing that can happen,’ said Forde in a grim tone. ‘Sir Hannibal, being innocent, will have no hesitation in facing his accusers.’