The Opal Serpent

by Fergus Hume

  CHAPTER XX

  PART OF THE TRUTH

  Captain Jessop ate as greedily as he drank strong waters, and did fulljustice to the curry, which was really excellent. Hurd did not broachany unpleasant topic immediately, as he wished the man to enjoy hismeal. If Jessop was guilty, this dainty dinner would be the last of itskind he would have for many a long day. Moreover, Hurd wished to learnmore of the mariner's character, and plied him with questions, which theunsuspecting sailor answered amiably enough.

  "Me an' you might become mates, as it were," said Jessop, extending hislarge hand again and again. "Put it there."

  "Well, we'd want to know something more about one another to become realmates," laughed Hurd.

  "Oh, you're a commercial traveller, as you say, and I'm the captain ofas fine a barkey as ever sailed under Capricorn. Leastways I was, aforeI gave up deep-sea voyages."

  "You must miss the ocean, living at Stowley."

  "Inland it is," admitted the mariner, pulling out a dirty clay pipe, atthe conclusion of the meal, "and ocean there ain't round about furmiles. But I've got a shanty there, and live respectable."

  "You are able to, with the stand-by," hinted Hurd.

  Jessop nodded and crammed black tobacco, very strong and rank, into thebowl of his pipe with a shaking hand. "It ain't much," he admitted;"folks being stingy. But if I wants more," he struck the table hard, "Ican get it. D'ye see, Mister Commercial?"

  "Yes, I see," replied Hurd, coolly. Jessop was again growing cross, andthe detective had to be careful. He knew well enough that next morning,when sober, Jessop would not be so disposed to talk, but being muzzy, heopened his heart freely. Still, it was evident that a trifle more liquorwould make him quarrelsome, so Hurd proposed coffee, a proposition towhich the sailor graciously assented.

  "Cawfee," he observed, lighting his pipe, and filling the room withevil-smelling smoke, "clears the 'ead, not as mine wants clearing, mindyou. But cawfee ain't bad, when rum ain't t' be 'ad."

  "You'll have more rum later," hinted Hurd.

  "Put it there," said Jessop, and again the detective was forced to winceat the strong grip of a horny hand.

  Miss Junk appeared in answer to the tinkle of the bell and removed thefood. Afterwards she brought in coffee, hot and strong and black, andJessop drank two cups, with the result that he became quieter. Then thetwo men settled down for a pleasant conversation. At least, Jessopthought so, for he frequently expressed the friendliest sentimentstowards his host. Then Matilda appeared with a bottle of rum, a kettleand two glasses. When she departed, Hurd intimated that he would notrequire her services again that night. This he whispered to her at thedoor, while Jessop was placing the kettle on the fire, and beforereturning to his seat, he quietly turned the key. So he had the marinerentirely to himself and got to business at once while the kettle boiled.

  "You have known this place for years I believe," said Hurd, taking achair opposite to that of Jessop. "Did you ever drop across a man, whoused to live here, called Lemuel Krill?"

  The other man started. "Whatever makes you arsk that?" he inquired in ahusky voice.

  "Well, you see, as a commercial I trade in books, and had to do with asecond-hand bookseller in Gwynne Street, Drury Lane. It seems that hewas murdered," and he eyed Jessop attentively.

  The sailor nodded and composed himself with a violent effort. "Yes,"said he in his husky voice, "so I heard. But what's he got to do withLemuel Krill?"

  "Oh," said Hurd, carelessly, "it is said Aaron Norman was Krill."

  "Might ha' bin. I don't know myself," was the gruff reply.

  "Ah! Then you did not know Lemuel Krill?"

  "Well," admitted the captain, reluctantly, "I did. He wos the landlordof this here pub, and a cuss to drink. Lor', 'ow he could drink, and didtoo. But he run away from his wife as used to keep this shanty, and shenever heard no more of him."

  "Until she found he was rich and could leave her five thousand a year,"said Hurd, absently; "so like a woman."

  "You seem to know all about it, mister?" said the sailor, uneasily.

  "Yes, I read the papers. A queer case that of Norman's death. I expectit was only right he should be strangled seeing he killed Lady RachelSandal in the same way."

  Jessop, resting his hands on the arms of his chair, pushed it back andstared with a white face. "You know of that?" he gasped.

  "Why not? It was public talk in this place over twenty years ago. Iunderstand you have been here-abouts for thirty years," went on Hurd,carelessly, "possibly you may recollect the case."

  Jessop wiped his forehead. "I heard something about it. That there ladycommitted suicide they say."

  "I know what they say, but I want to know what you say?"

  "I won't be arsked questions," shouted the captain, angrily.

  "Don't raise your voice," said the detective, smoothly; "we may as wellconduct this conversation pleasantly."

  "I don't converse no more," said Jessop in a shaky voice, and staggeredto his feet, rapidly growing sober under the influence of a deadly fear.Hurd did not move as the man crossed the room, but felt if the key wassafe in his pocket. The sailor tried to open the door, and then realizedthat it was locked. He turned on his host with a volley of bad language,and found himself facing a levelled revolver.

  "Sit down," said Hurd, quietly; "go back to your chair."

  Jessop, with staring eyes and outspread hands, backed to the wall. "Whoare you anyhow?" he demanded, hardly able to speak.

  "Perhaps that will tell you," said Hurd, and threw the warrant on thetable. Jessop staggered forward and looked at it. One glance wassufficient to inform him what it was, and he sank back into his chairwith a groan, leaving the warrant on the table. Hurd picked it up andslipped it into his pocket. He thought Jessop might destroy it; butthere was no fight in the mariner.

  "And now that we understand one another," said Hurd, putting away hisweapon, "I want to talk."

  "Sha'n't talk," said Jessop, savagely.

  "Oh, yes, I think so; otherwise I can make things unpleasant for you."

  "You can't arrest me. I've done nothing."

  "That may be so, but arrest you I can and I have done so now. To-morrowmorning you will go to London in charge of a plain-clothes policeman,while I go to Stowley."

  "To my crib. No, I'm blest if you do."

  "I sha'n't go immediately to your crib," rejoined Hurd, dryly, "though Imay do so later. My first visit will be to that old pawnbroker. I thinkif I describe you--and you are rather a noticeable man, CaptainJessop--he will recognize the individual who pawned an opal serpentbrooch with him shortly after the death of Lady Rachel Sandal, to whomthe said brooch belonged."

  "It's a lie," said Jessop hoarsely, and sober enough now.

  "Quite so, and perhaps it is also a lie that a man resembling yourselftried to get certain jewellery from a lawyer called Pash--"

  Jessop lost his self-control, which he was trying desperately topreserve, and rose to his feet, white-faced and haggard. "Who are you?"he shouted, "who are you?"

  "Doesn't the warrant tell you," replied his companion, not at all upset."My name is Billy Hurd. I am the detective in charge of the Normanmurder case. And I've been looking for you for a long time, Mr. Jessop."

  "I know nothing about it."

  "Yes, you do; so sit down and talk away."

  "I'll break your head," cried the captain, swinging his huge fists.

  "Try," Hurd whipped out his revolver, but did not rise, "at the risk ofgetting a bullet through you. Pshaw, man, don't be a fool. I'm makingthings as easy for you as possible. Create a disturbance, and I'll handyou over to the police. A night in the village lock-up may cool yourblood. Sit down I tell you."

  The sailor showed his teeth like those of a snarling dog and made as tostrike the seated detective; but suddenly changing his mind, for he sawwell enough in what danger he stood, he dropped into his chair, and,covering his face with his hands, groaned aloud. Hurd put away hisrevolver. "That's better," said he, pleasantly;
"take a tot of rum andtell me all you know."

  "I'm innocent," groaned Jessop.

  "Every man is innocent until convicted by a jury," said Hurd, calmly."Consider me a jury and I'll size up your case, when I hear all. Are youinnocent of both murders?"

  "Lady Rachel committed suicide," said Jessop, raising a haggard face."Yes--I stick to that, sir. As to Krill's death in London, I didn'ttouch him; I swear I didn't."

  "But you saw him on that night?"

  "How can you prove that?"

  "Very simply. Norman--or Krill if you prefer the old name--took certainjewellery to Pash for safe keeping shortly before his death. Youpresented to Pash a paper, undeniably written and signed by the old man,saying that the jewellery was to be given up to bearer. Now, beforetaking the jewellery to Pash, Krill could not have written that paper,so you must have seen him during the few hours which elapsed between hisvisit to Pash and his death."

  This was clearly argued, and Jessop could not contradict. "I left himquite well and hearty."

  "In the cellar in Gwynne Street?"

  "Yes, in the cellar," admitted Jessop.

  "At what time?"

  "About half-past eight--say between eight and nine."

  "Well, what happened?" asked Hurd, smoking quietly.

  The sailor twisted his big hands and groaned. Then he laid his head onthe table and began to sob, talking brokenly and huskily. "I'm donefor," he gasped. "I'd know'd it would come--no--I ain't sorry. I've hada nightmare of a time. Oh--since I pawned that brooch--"

  "Ah. Then you did pawn the brooch at Stowley?"

  Jessop sat up and wiped his eyes. "Yes, I did. But I pulled my cap downover my eyes and buttoned up my pea-jacket. I never thought old Tinkerwould ha' knowed me."

  "Wasn't it rather rash of you to pawn the brooch in a place where youwere well known?"

  "I wasn't well known. I only come at times, and then I went away. OldTinker hadn't seen me more nor once or twice, and then I pulled down mycap and--" Jessop, badly shaken, was beginning to tell the episode overagain, when Hurd stopped him.

  "See here," said the detective. "You say that you are innocent?"

  "I swear that I am," gasped Jessop.

  "Well, then, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. My business is notto hang innocent people. Take a glass of rum and tell me all you know,beginning with your first meeting with Krill and running down throughthe death of Lady Rachel to your last meeting in the Gwynne Streetcellar."

  "And when you know all?"

  "Then I'll see what is to be done."

  "Will you arrest me?"

  "I have arrested you. Don't make conditions with me, man," said Hurd,with a stern face. "The night is growing late and I want to get to thebottom of this business before we go to bed. Take some rum."

  Seeing there was nothing for it but to make a clean breast, CaptainJarvey Jessop wasted no further time in useless lamentation. He couldhave smashed Hurd easily enough, even though there was the risk of beingshot. But the fracas would bring others on the scene, and Jessop knew hecould not deal with the police. Therefore, he took a stiff peg andbecame quieter. In fact, when once started on his confession, heappeared to be rather relieved.

  "It's been a nightmare," said he, wiping his forehead. "I'm glad it'scome to the lawr, that I am. I met Krill, as he wos then, sometwenty-five year back by chance, as you may say"--he cast a strange lookat the detective, which the latter noted--"yes, by chance, Mr. Hurd. Ifound he kep' the pub here, and this bein' no distance from SouthamptonI took to runnin' down here when the barkey was at anchor. Me an' Krillbecame great mates, and I'd what you might call free quarters here--yes,sir--it's a frozen fact."

  "Very generous of Mr. Krill," remarked Hurd, dryly, and wondering whatthe man was keeping back.

  "Oh, he was right enough as a mate when not drunk; but the liquor made ahowling dorg of him. I've seen many drunk in many places," said Jessop,"but anyone who held his liquor wuss nor Krill I never did see. He'dknife you as soon as look at you when drunk."

  "But he evidently preferred strangling."

  "Hold on, mate," said Jessop, with another deep pull at the rum. "I'mcomin' to that night. We wos both on the bust, as y'may say, and Mrs.Krill she didn't like it, so got to bed with the child."

  "How old was the child?"

  "Maud? Oh, you might say she was thirteen or fifteen. I can't be sure ofher age. What's up?"

  For Hurd, seeing in this admission a confirmation that Maud was eithernot Krill's child or was illegitimate, and could not inherit the money,had showed his feelings. However, he made some trivial excuse, notwishing to be too confidential, and begged Jessop to proceed.

  "Well, mate," said the captain, filling another glass of rum, "y'seethe lady had come earlier and had been put to bed by the missus. I neversaw her myself, being drinking in this very room along o' Krill. But_he_ saw her," added Jessop, emphatically, "and said as she'd a fineopal brooch, which he wish he'd had, as he wanted money and the missuskept him tight."

  "Krill was a judge of jewels?"

  "Travelled in jewels once," said the captain. "Bless you, he could sizeup a precious stone in no time. But he sat drinking with me, and everynow and then got out of the room, when he'd stop away for perhaps aquarter of an hour at the time."

  "Did he mention the opal brooch again?"

  "No," said Jessop, after reflection, "he didn't. But he got so drunkthat he began to show fight, as he always did when boozy, though a timidchap when sober. I concluded, wishing no row, to git to my hammock, andcut up stairs. Then I went by mistake into the room of that pore lady,carrying a candle, and saw her tied to the bedpost stone dead, with asilk handkerchief round her neck. I shouted out blue murder, and Mrs.Krill with the kid came tumbling down. I was so feared," added Jessop,wiping his forehead at the recollection, "that I ran out of doors."

  "What good would that do?"

  "Lor', I dunno," confessed the man, shivering, "but I wos skeered out ofmy life. It wos rainin' pitchforks, as y'might say, and I raced onthrough the rain for an hour or so. Then I thought, as I wos innocent,I'd make tracks back, and I did. I found Krill had cut."

  "Did his wife tell you?"

  "Oh, she wos lying on the floor insensible where he'd knocked her down.And the kid--lor'," Jessop spat, "she was lying in the corner with herlips fastened together with the brooch."

  "What?" cried Hurd, starting to his feet. "The same as her--the same asNorman's was?"

  Jessop nodded and drank some rum. "Made me sick it did. I took th'brooch away and slipped it into my pocket. Then the kid said her fatherhad fastened her lips together and had knocked her mother flat when sheinterfered. I brought Mrs. Krill round and then left her with the kid,and walked off to Southampton. The police found me there, and I toldthem what I tell you."

  "Did you tell about the brooch?"

  "Well, no, I didn't," confessed Jessop, coolly, "an' as the kid and themother said nothing, I didn't see why I shouldn't keep it, wantin'money. So I went to Stowley and pawned it, then took a deep sea voyagefor a year. When I come back, all was over."

  "Do you think Krill murdered the woman?" asked Hurd, passing over forthe moment the fact that Jessop had stolen the brooch.

  "He said he didn't," rejoined the man with emphasis, "but I trulybelieve, mister, as he did, one of them times, when mad with drink andout of the room. He wanted the brooch, d'ye see, though why he shouldhave lost the loot by sealin' the kid's mouth with it I can't say."

  "When did you come across Krill again?"

  "Ho," said Jessop, drawing his hand across his mouth, "'twas this way,d'ye see. I come round here lots, and a swell come too, a cold--"

  "Grexon Hay," said Hurd, pointing to the photograph.

  "Yes. That's him," said Jessop, staring, "and I hated him just, with hiseye-glass and his sneerin' ways. He loved the kid, now a growed, finegal, as you know, and come here often. In June--at the end of itanyhow--he comes and I hears him tells Mrs. Krill, who was alwayslooking for her husband, that a one-eye
d bookseller in Gwynne Street,Drury Lane, had fainted when he saw the very identical brooch showed himby another cove."

  "Beecot. I know. Didn't you wonder how the brooch had left thepawnshop?" asked Hurd, very attentive.

  "No, I didn't," snarled Jessop, who was growing cross. "I knew oldTinker's assistant had sold the brooch and he didn't oughter t' havedone it, as I wanted it back. Mrs. Krill asked me about the brooch, andwanted it, so I said I'd get it back. Tinker said it was gone, but wroteto the gent as bought it."

  "Mr. Simon Beecot, of Wargrove, in Essex."

  "That wos him; but the gent wouldn't give it back, so I 'spose he'dgiven it to his son. Well, then, when Mrs. Krill heard of the one-eyedman fainting at sight of the brooch, she knew 'twas her husband, as he'done eye, she having knocked the other out when he was sober."

  "Did she go up and see him?"

  "Well," said Jessop, slowly, "I don't rightly know what she did do, butshe went up. I don't think she saw Krill at his shop, but she might haveseen that Pash, who was Mr. Hay's lawyer, and a dirty little ape o'sorts he is."

  "Ha," said Hurd, to himself, "I thought Pash knew about the womenbeforehand. No wonder he stuck to them and gave poor Miss Norman thego-bye," he rubbed his hands and chuckled. "Well, we'll see what willcome of the matter. Go on, Jessop."

  "There ain't much more to tell," grumbled the captain. "I heard of this,and I wasn't meant to hear. But I thought I'd go up and see if I couldget money out of Krill by saying I'd tell about the murder of LadyRachel."

  "You _are_ a scoundrel," said Hurd, coolly.

  "I wos 'ard up," apologized the captain, "or I wouldn't, not me. I'mstraight enough when in cash. So I went up in July."

  "On the sixth of July?"

  "If that was the day of the murder--yes. I went up and loafed rounduntil it wos dark, and then slipped through that side passage at eighto'clock to see Krill."

  "How did you know where to find him?"

  "Why, that Hay knew about the chap, and said as he did business in acellar after eight. So Krill let me in, thinking, I 'spose, I wos acustomer. He'd been drinking a little and was bold enough. But when Isaid, as I'd say, he'd killed Lady Rachel, he swore he was an innercentbabe, and cried, the drink dyin' out of him."

  "The same as it died out of you lately," said Hurd, smiling.

  "Go slow," grunted the captain, in a surly tone. "I ain't afraid now, asI ain't done nothing. I said to Krill I'd say nothin' if he'd give memoney. He wouldn't, but said he'd placed a lot of pawned things withPash, and I could have them. He then gave me a paper saying I was tohave the things, and I went to Pash the next morning and had trouble.But I heard by chance," again Jessop cast a strange look at Hurd, "thatKrill had been murdered, so I didn't wait for the lawyer to come back,but cut down to Southampton and went on a short voyage. Then I come hereand you nabbed me," and Jessop finished his rum. "That's all I know."

  "Do you swear you left Aaron Norman alive?"

  "Meaning Krill? I do. He wasn't no use to me dead, and I made him giveme the jewels Pash had, d'ye see."

  "But who warned you of the death when you were waiting?"

  Jessop seemed unwilling to speak, but when pressed burst out, "'Twas ameasily little kid with ragged clothes and a dirty face."

  "Tray," said Hurd. "Hum! I wonder how he knew of the murder before itgot into the papers?"