by Fergus Hume
CHAPTER XXIV
MRS. KRILL AT BAY
Next day Hurd did not go to see Mrs. Krill as he had intended, but spenthis time in hunting for the missing boy. Tray, however, was not to befound. Being a guttersnipe and accustomed to dealing with the police hewas thoroughly well able to look after himself, and doubtless hadconcealed himself in some low den where the officers of the law wouldnot think of searching for him. However, the fact remained that, inspite of the detective's search, he could not be caught, and theauthorities were much vexed. To unravel the case completely Tray was anecessary witness, especially as, even when examined at Jubileetown,Hurd shrewdly suspected he had not confessed all the truth. However,what could be done was done, and several plain-clothes detectives wereset to search for the missing boy.
Pash remained quiet for, at all events, the next four-and-twenty hours.Whether he saw Mrs. Krill or not during that time Hurd did not know and,truth to say, he cared very little. The lawyer had undoubtedly acteddishonestly, and if the matter were made public, there would be everychance that he would be struck off the rolls. To prevent this Pash wasquite ready to sell Mrs. Krill and anyone else connected with themystery. Also, he wished to keep the business of Miss Norman, supposingthe money--as he hinted might be the case through his assistance--cameback to her; and this might be used as a means to make him speak out.Hurd was now pretty sure that Mrs. Krill was the guilty person.
"She knew Pash through Hay," argued the detective, while thinking overthe case, "and undoubtedly came to see him before Norman's death, sothat Pash might suggest ways and means of getting the better of the oldman by means of the bigamy business. Mrs. Krill was in the Chancery Laneoffice when the brooch left by Tray was on the table, and Mrs. Krill,anxious to get it, no doubt slipped it into her pocket when Pash wastalking to his clerk in the outer room. Then I expect she decided topunish her husband by fastening his lips together as he had done thoseof her daughter twenty and more years ago. I can't exactly see why shestrangled him," mused Hurd, "as she could have got the money withoutproceeding to such an extreme measure. But the man's dead, and shekilled him sure enough. Now, I'll get a warrant out and arrest herstraight away. There's quite enough evidence to justify her being takenin charge. Hum! I wonder if she made use of that young devil of a Trayin any way? Well," he rose and stretched himself, "I may force her tospeak now that she is in a corner."
Having made up his mind Hurd went to work at once, and the next day,late in the afternoon, he was driving in a cab to No. 32A Hunter Street,Kensington, with the warrant in his pocket. He also had with him aletter which he had received from Miss Qian, and written from Beechillin Buckinghamshire. Aurora had made good use of her time and had learneda number of facts connected with Mrs. Krill's early life which Hurdthought would prove of interest to the woman. In one way and another thecase was becoming plain and clear, and the detective made sure that hewould gain the reward. The irony of the thing was, that Mrs. Krill,with a view to throwing dust in the eyes of the law, had offered a bribeof one thousand pounds for the discovery of the assassin. She littlethought when doing so that she was weaving a rope for her own neck.
Hurd had brought a plain-clothes policeman with him, and this manremained outside in a hansom while Hurd rang the bell. In a few minutesthe door was opened and the detective sent up his card. Mrs. Krillproved to be at home and consented to receive him, so, shortly, the manfound himself in an elegantly-furnished drawing-room bowing before thesilent and sedate daughter.
"You wish to see my mother," said Maud, with her eternal smile. "Shewill be down in a few minutes."
"I await her convenience," said Hurd, admiring the handsome looks of theyoung woman, although he plainly saw that she was--as he phrased it--"nochicken."
After a few words Miss Krill rang the bell. "I want these things takenaway," she said, pointing to a workbasket and some millinery with whichshe had been engaged when Hurd was announced, "then I shall leave you tospeak to my mother."
The detective wondered if she was too fine a lady to remove these thingsherself, but his surprise ceased when the door opened and no less aperson than Matilda Junk appeared. He guessed at once that the landladyof "The Red Pig" had come up to see her sister and had related detailsabout her visitor. Probably Mrs. Krill guessed that Hurd had been askingquestions, and Matilda had been introduced to see if he was the man. Hebecame certain of this when Miss Junk threw up her hands. "Thecommercial gent," she exclaimed.
"Oh, no," said Maud, smiling smoothly. "This is Mr. Hurd, the detective,who is searching for the assassin of my dear father."
"Lor,'" said Matilda, growing red. "And he's the man as came to askquestions at the 'otel. I do call it bold of you, Mister Policeman."
"Well," said Hurd, swinging his hat lazily, and looking from one to theother, quite taking in the situation, "you answered very few of myquestions, so that is all right."
"Why did you go down to Christchurch?" asked Miss Krill.
"If I have to find out who killed your father," said Hurd, with anaccent on the word "father," "it was necessary that I should learn abouthis past life as Lemuel Krill."
"My mother could have informed you, sir."
"I guessed as much, and, as Miss Junk would not speak, I have come toquestion Mrs. Krill. Ah, here she is." Hurd rose and bowed. "I am gladto see you, madam."
Mrs. Krill, who was as plump and smiling and smooth-faced and severe asever, bowed and rubbed her white hands together. At a sign from Maud,Matilda gathered up the fancy work and went out of the room with manybackward glances. These were mostly indignant, for she was angry atHurd's deception. "Do you wish my daughter to stay?" asked Mrs. Krill,smoothly.
"That is as she pleases," said the detective.
"No, thank you, mother," said Maud, shuddering, "I have heard quiteenough of my poor father's terrible death," and she swept out of thedrawing-room with a gracious smile.
"The poor child is so sensitive," sighed Mrs. Krill, taking a seat withher back to the window. Whether this was done to conceal her age, or theexpression of her face during a conversation which could not fail toprove trying, Hurd was unable to determine. "I trust, Mr. Hurd, you havecome with good news," said the widow.
"What would you call good news?" asked the detective, dryly.
"That you had traced the assassin," she replied coolly.
Hurd was amazed at this brazen assurance, and thought that Mrs. Krillmust be quite convinced that she had covered up every trail likely tolead to the discovery of her connection with the murder.
"I'll leave you to judge whether I have been successful," he saidcalmly.
"I shall be pleased to hear," was the equally calm reply. But as Mrs.Krill spoke she glanced towards a gorgeous tapestry curtain at the endof the room, and Hurd fancied he saw it shake. It suddenly occurred tohim that Maud was behind. Why she should choose this secret way oflistening when she could have remained it was difficult to say, and hehalf thought he was mistaken. However, listening openly or secretly, didnot matter so far as the daughter was concerned, so Hurd addressedhimself to Mrs. Krill in a loud and cheerful voice. She composed herselfto listen with a bland smile, and apparently was quite ignorant thatthere was anything wrong.
"I was lately down at Christchurch, madam--"
"So my servant, Matilda Junk, said."
"It was necessary that I should go there to search out your husband'spast life. In that past I fancied, might be found the motive for thecommission of the crime."
"I could have saved you the journey," said Mrs. Krill, shrugging herplump shoulders. "I can tell you what you wish to know."
"In that case I will relate all that I have learned, and perhaps youwill correct me if I am wrong."
Mrs. Krill bowed but did not commit herself to speech. For the sake ofeffect the detective took out a sheaf of notes, but in reality he hadthe various points of the case at his finger tips. "You will excuse meif I talk on very private matters," he said, apologetically, "but as weare alone," again Mrs. Krill glanced at the
curtain and therebyconfirmed Hurd's suspicions of an unseen listener, "you will not mind mybeing, perhaps, personal."
"Personal," echoed Mrs. Krill, a keen look coming into her hard eyes,and she stopped rubbing her hands together.
"Well, yes," admitted Hurd, with affected reluctance. "I had to lookinto your past as well as into that of your husband's."
Mrs. Krill's eyes grew harder than ever. She scented danger. "My past isa most uninteresting one," she said, coldly. "I was born at Stowley, inBuckinghamshire, and married Mr. Krill at Beechill, which is a few milesfrom that town. He was a traveller in jewellery, but as I did not likehis being away from me, I induced him to rent 'The Red Pig' atChristchurch, to which we removed. Then he left me--"
"On account of Lady Rachel Sandal's murder?"
Mrs. Krill controlled herself excellently, although she was startled bythis speech, as was evident from the expression of her eyes. "That poorlady committed suicide," she said deliberately. "The jury at the inquestbrought in a verdict of suicide--"
"By a majority of one," added Hurd, quickly. "There seemed to be aconsiderable amount of doubt as to the cause of the death."
"The death was caused by strangulation," said Mrs. Krill, in hard tones."Since you know all about the matter, you must be aware that I and mydaughter had retired after seeing Lady Rachel safe and sound for thenight. The death was discovered by a boon companion of my husband's,with whom he was drinking at the time."
"I know that. Also that you came down with your daughter when the alarmwas given. I also know that Krill fastened your daughter's lips togetherwith the opal brooch which was found in the parlor."
"Who told you that?" asked Mrs. Krill, agitated.
"Jessop--the boon companion you speak of."
"Yes," she said, suppressing her agitation with a powerful effort."Matilda said you had him to dine with you. What else did he say?" sheasked with some hesitation.
"Much less than I should have liked to know," retorted Hurd, prepared tothrow off the mask; "but he told me a great deal which interested mevery much. Amongst other things that Grexon Hay had been engaged to yourdaughter for two years."
"Well?" asked Mrs. Krill, coolly, "what of that?"
"Nothing particular," rejoined Hurd, just as coolly, "only I wonder youtook the trouble to pretend that you met Hay at Pash's office for thefirst time."
"That was some romantic rubbish of my daughter's. There was no reasonwhy we should not have acknowledged Mr. Hay as an old acquaintance."
"None in the world that I can see," said Hurd, smoothly. "He told youthat Aaron Norman was your husband."
"No," said Mrs. Krill, decidedly, "I first heard of my husband by seeinga chance hand-bill--"
"Not at all," answered Hurd, just as decidedly, "Hay has confessed."
"There was nothing to confess," cried Mrs. Krill, loudly and withemphasis.
"Oh, I think so," said the detective, noting that she was losing hertemper. "You didn't want it known that you were aware of Norman'sidentity before his death. Do you deny that?"
"I deny everything," gasped Mrs. Krill, her hands trembling.
"That's a pity, as I want you to corroborate certain facts connectedwith Anne Tyler. Do you know the name?"
"My maiden name," said the widow, and a look of fear crept into herhard, staring eyes. "How did you come to know of it?"
"From the marriage certificate supplied by Pash."
"He had no right to give it to you."
"He didn't. I possess only a copy. But that copy I sent down in chargeof a certain person to Beechill. This person found that you were marriedas Anne Tyler to Lemuel Krill in the parish church, twenty miles fromyour birthplace."
Mrs. Krill drew a long breath of relief. "Well?" she demanded defiantly,"is there anything wrong about that?"
"No. But this person also made inquiries at Stowley about you. You arethe daughter of a farmer."
"I mentioned that fact myself."
"Yes. But you didn't mention that your mother had been hanged forpoisoning your father."
Mrs. Krill turned ghastly pale. "No," she said in a suffocating voice,"such is the case; but can you wonder that I forebore to mention thatfact? My daughter knows nothing of that--nor did my husband--"
"Which husband do you mean, Krill or Jessop?" asked Hurd.
Mrs. Krill gasped and rose, swaying. "What do you mean, man?"
"This," said the detective, on his feet at once; "this person hunted outthe early life of Anne Tyler at Stowley. It was discovered that Anne wasthe daughter of a woman who had been hanged, and of a man who had beenmurdered. Also this person found that Anne Tyler married a sailor calledJarvey Jessop some years before she committed bigamy with Lemuel Krillin Beechill Church--"
"It's a lie!" screamed Mrs. Krill, losing her self-control. "How dareyou come here with these falsehoods?"
"They are not falsehoods, Anne Tyler, _alias_ Anne Jessop, _alias_ AnneKrill, etc.," retorted Hurd, speaking rapidly and emphasizing hisremarks with his finger in his usual fashion when in deadly earnest."You were married to Jessop in Stowley Church; you bore him a daughterwho was christened Maud Jessop in Stowley Church. The person I mentionedsent me copies of the marriage and birth certificates. So your marriagewith Lemuel Krill was false, and his second marriage with Lillian Garneris a good one in law. Which means, Mrs. Jessop," Hurd hurled the word ather and she shrank, "that Sylvia Norman or Sylvia Krill, as sherightfully is, owns that money which you wrongfully withhold from her.The will gave the five thousand a year to 'my daughter,' and Sylvia isthe only daughter and only child--the legitimate child, mark you--ofLemuel Krill."
"Lies--lies--lies!" raged Mrs. Krill, as she may still be called, thoughrightfully Jessop, "I'll defend the case on my daughter's behalf."
"_Your_ daughter, certainly," said Hurd, "but not Krill's."
"I say yes."
"And I say no. She was fifteen when Lady Rachel was murdered, as Jessop,her father, admitted. I knew the man was keeping something back, but Iwas far from suspecting that it was this early marriage. No wonder theman came to you and had free quarters at 'The Red Pig.' He could haveprosecuted you for bigamy, just as you would have prosecuted Krill, hadyou not murdered him."
Mrs. Krill gave a yell and her eyes blazed. "You hound!" she shouted,"do you accuse me of that?"
"I do more than accuse you, I arrest you." Hurd produced the warrant. "Aman is waiting in the cab. We'll get a four-wheeler, and you'll comealong with me to gaol, Mrs. Jessop."
"You can't prove it--you can't prove it," she panted, "and I sha'n'tgo--I sha'n't--I sha'n't!" and her eyes sought the tapestry.
"Miss Jessop can come out," said Hurd, coolly, "and, as to your notcoming, a few policemen will soon put that right."
"How dare you insult me and my daughter?"
"Come, come," said the detective, sternly, "I've had quite enough ofthis. You offered me one thousand pounds to learn who killed yourso-called husband, Krill. I have earned the reward--"
"Not one shilling shall you have."
"Oh, I think so. Miss Sylvia will pay it to me, and you--"
"I am innocent. I never touched the man."
"A jury will decide that, Mrs. Jessop."
"Krill--my name is Krill."
Hurd laughed and turned towards the tapestry.
"What do you say, Miss Jessop?" he asked.
Seeing that further concealment was at an end, Maud lifted the tapestry,which concealed a small door, through which she had silently stolen tolisten. She advanced calmly. "I have heard all your conversation with mymother," she declared with flashing eyes, "and not one word of it istrue. I am the daughter of Lemuel Krill."
"You'll find that hard to prove in the face of your birth certificateand your mother's marriage to Captain Jessop, your father."
"It will all be put right."
"Quite so, and Miss Norman will get the money."
"That girl--never!" cried Maud, fiercely. She looked very like hermother at the moment, but the more angry
she grew the calmer became Mrs.Krill, who kept darting anxious glances at her daughter. "And yousha'n't take my mother away," she cried threateningly.
"I don't want to make a scandal in the neighborhood," said Hurd, takinga small whistle from his pocket, "but if I blow this my man out therewill call the nearest policeman, and then--"
"There is no need," interrupted Mrs. Krill, who had recovered herself-control. "Maud, come over beside me. On what grounds, Mr. Hurd, doyou accuse me of the crime? I was not in town on--"
"Oh, yes, you were, Mrs. Jessop. Pash can prove that you were in hisoffice and took the brooch left by Tray from the table. I don't knowwhere you stopped on that night--"
"At Judson's Hotel, Strand," cried Maud, placing herself beside hermother, "and anyone there can prove that my mother and myself werewithin doors after we came from Terry's Theatre, where we spent theevening. As my father--for Krill _was_ my father--was killed aftertwelve, and we were both in bed in one room before then, your accusationfalls to the ground. My mother was with me, and she did not leave thewhole evening. Next day we went to Christchurch."
Hurd was rather staggered by the positive way in which the young womanspoke. But the facts were too plain for him to hesitate. "I must troubleyou to come along with me," he said. "No, don't go!"
"To put on my cloak and hat?" urged Mrs. Krill. "I'll come quietlyenough. I don't want a scandal. I am sure when the magistrate hears whatI have to say he will let me go free."
"I trust so. But you must not leave the room. Matilda will, no doubt,bring your things."
Mrs. Krill touched the electric button of the bell, while Maud walked upand down, deathly white and fuming. "Mr. Hay shall see to this," shesaid in a cold rage.
"Mr. Hay will have quite enough to do to look after himself," said thedetective, coolly; "you had better let your mother go quietly, and Iwon't say anything to Matilda Junk."
"Yes, do, Maud," urged the mother, placing an imploring hand on her talldaughter's shoulder; "it's better so. Everything will be put right whenthe magistrate hears my story."
"What will you tell him, mother?" asked Maud.
"That I am innocent, and that I am, as you are, ignorant of who killedyour unfortunate father."
Matilda entered the room and heard that Mrs. Krill had to go out onbusiness with Mr. Hurd. On receiving her orders she departed, andpresently returned with the cloak and hat. Mrs. Krill, who was now quitecool, put these on. Hurd could not but admire the brave way in which shefaced the terrible situation. Maud seemed to be far more upset, and Hurdwondered if the young woman knew the truth. Mrs. Krill kept soothingher. "It will be all right, my love. Don't excite yourself. It will beall right," she said several times.
Miss Junk departed, and Mrs. Krill said that she was ready to depart.Hurd offered her his arm, which she rejected, and walked to the doorwith a firm step, although her face was rather white. At the door shecaught her daughter round the neck and kissed her several times, afterwhich she whispered earnestly in her ear, and then went down the stairswith the detective in attendance. Maud, with white lips and cheeks, butwith dry eyes, followed. When her mother was safely in the cab, theplain-clothes policeman alighted, so that Hurd might take his place.Maud came quietly down the steps and seized the detective by the arm.
"You have ruined my mother," she said in a cold, hard tone; "you haverobbed me of my money and of the chance of marrying the man I love. Ican't hurt you; but that girl, Sylvia--she shall never get onepenny--so, remember!"
Hurd shook her off, and, stepping into the cab, drove away. Mrs. Krilllooked apprehensively at him. "What did Maud say?" she asked. Hurd toldher, and Mrs. Krill closed her lips firmly. "Maud is quite right," shesaid with a strange smile. "Sylvia will never get the money."