CHAPTER XIV
THE NEW TENANT
Arnold one day received a note from Luther Tracey asking him to call at Fairy Lodge, Coleridge Lane, Hampstead. Wondering what the American was doing in that house, Calvert lost no time in obeying the summons. He knew Tracey very slightly, having only met him when paying a visit to the Baldwins, when Laura was stopping there. But he was aware that Tracey was a smart man, and long-headed. It struck Calvert as possible that Laura might have consulted with the American about the matter of the murder, and that this invitation might be the outcome of a consultation between them. And it was creditable to Calvert's sagacity that this is precisely what had happened.
On arriving at Fairy Lodge, Arnold saw the engineer in the garden with his inevitable cigarette in his mouth.
"Well, I guess you're a smart chap," said Tracey, shaking hands heartily. "You don't let the grass grow under your feet like the majority of these English. No!"
"I think curiosity brings me up so quickly," said Arnold as they strolled up to the door. "I was wondering what you were doing in this galley."
"All in good time, sir," replied the imperturbable Luther. "Just slide your eye round the ranch before you go in. Not a bad shanty? No; I surmise that poor woman was death on flowers, and hadn't the dollars to start an orchid-house."
"She was poor," said Arnold, a trifle sadly. "Her husband did not allow her much money, she told me; but perhaps he didn't make much."
"Well, a drummer in our land generally can rake in the dollars. Did you ever see this Brand?"
"No," replied Calvert emphatically, "I never did."
Luther looked sideways out of the corner of his eye, and saw that the colour was rising in the young man's face. "Know something about him, maybe. Yes?"
"I know very little," answered Arnold coldly. "Only what Mrs. Brand told me, and she was rather reserved on the subject. Brand, as I learned from her, was a commercial traveller."
"What line did he travel in?"
"I don't know; I never asked. But his business took him away a great deal, and my cousin was left a lot to herself."
"Any children?"
"None. They had been married five or six years, I believe. The fact is," he added, "Mrs. Brand did not speak very kindly of her husband. She seemed to think he was keeping something from her."
Luther pitched away his cigarette and lighted another. "Well, now, I guess that's my idea right along. There's a mystery about Brand, and not a very straight one, seeing he couldn't tell the woman he swore to love, honour, and obey. There ain't nothing about leaving for long periods in the marriage service, I reckon. And it's strange he's not turned up, seeing she's murdered."
"Well," said Arnold slowly, and following the American into the room, "I believe Brand went to Australia to see if he was related to the man who left Flora this fortune."
"Yes. It's queer his name should be Brand also. A woman generally marries out of her name. It's a fact. Well, if he's in Australia I expect he won't turn up for some time. When he does-"
"What will happen?" asked Calvert, with a troubled look.
"The truth will come to light."
"Do you mean to say that the man killed her?"
"I guess I don't mean to say anything," returned Tracey coolly, and stretching his long limbs on a couch. "But now we're tiled in-you ain't a mason, I suppose? No. But we're private here, so fire along."
"What about?"
"I want to know-"
"So do I," broke in Arnold. "I want to know what you are doing here?"
"Oh, there's nothing low about me, sir. I had a yarn with that young lady who is as sweet as a daisy, and she told me enough to make me take root in this place. Such a time I had with the old hermit who owns the shanty. I had to give references and pay rent in advance, and do all kinds of things to fix up matters. But yesterday I moved in, and wrote you straight away. And here I stay till I learn the truth. And a mighty long time that'll be, anyhow."
Arnold, who was sitting in the chair with his face turned to the light, stared. "I don't quite understand!"
"No! Ah, that's the fault of you English. You want a heap of explanations, like that Old Methuselah who let me the ranch. It's this way. I'm engaged to Gerty B., and she's a friend of Miss Mason. Now I've cottoned to Miss Mason, and I've sized you up as a decent sort of old horse, so I'm going to see if I can pull you out of this mess. Yes, sir. Luther Tracey don't go back on a friend. I guess I stop here till the husband comes home from Australia and drops in here to see his loving wife. And he don't leave that front door until I get the truth out of him. I'm a clean shot, too," added Mr. Tracey, musingly. "There ain't no flies on me. No!"
Arnold was puzzled. "What do you know about me, that you talk so?"
"All that Miss Mason could tell me. She landed round to see Gerty B. in a devil of a state. That stuck-up sister had been lathering into her, I guess. She wouldn't tell Gerty B., and just howled. So I came along and sent Gerty B. to look after old momma Baldwin-to keep her on the tiles. Yes, sir. Then I sat down and extracted the truth out of Miss Mason."
"What?" the blood rushed violently to Mr. Calvert's face. "Did Laura tell you-"
"Everything. You bet she did, and I wiped her pretty eyes with my silk handkerchief. There ain't no call to fire up. I'm engaged to Gerty B., and I don't loot another man's shanty. No, sir. I'm square and straight. Miss Mason told me everything about your going to the villa, and the dagger and all that poppy-cock. I told her to go slow and lie down, and then lighted out for this rookery. Now I've got you here I want you to tell me everything I don't know."
Arnold, reserved like all Englishmen, was annoyed that this inquisitive Yankee should interfere in his affairs. But the face of the man was so genial, and displayed such interest, that he could not help laughing. "It's very kind of you, Tracey," he admitted, "and there is no one whose help I would like better. But I have already engaged a detective to look after the matter."
"Right enough," responded Luther, lighting another cigarette. "But I work for the love of Gerty B., who's death on seeing you and Miss Mason hitched in double harness. I'll do better than your 'tec, I guess. Now come along and put your soul into the matter."
"But I've got nothing more to say, man. Miss Mason has apparently told you everything."
"In the way women do tell-generally and without the detail I want, sir. But Miss Mason was crying so, and I was consoling her so, that I didn't catch on to everything, Calvert." Here Tracey's voice became more earnest. "Just you trust me to the hilt. I'm your friend, right away through, and God knows you need one."
"Do you think I am in danger?"
"On the face of it, I do."
"But I can produce an
alibi
."
"Good again. What's that, anyhow?"
"Just this. I was asleep in my lodgings up till nine o'clock on that night, and only went down to the theatre half an hour later. I believe that the woman was killed between eight and nine."
"That's all right enough," assented the American, looking at the ash of his cigarette. "But you were in the house later, and you've come in for the money, and the dagger was yours. There may be a way of the prosecution getting out of the woman having been killed so early, and then you get left."
"Tracey, I swear when I saw the body it was almost cold."
"Then why didn't you call in the police?"
"Because I lost my head," said Arnold, much distressed.
Luther shook his head. "The very time when you should have kept it. If you had called in the police and explained how you came to be at the villa, all would have been well."
"But the money being left to me," expostulated Calvert.
"You didn't know that at the time?"
"No. I only knew when Merry wrote me."
"Then there's no motive, though the prosecution might try to prove you knew from Mrs. Brand beforehand."
"Tracey, why do you talk about prosecution? There's no chance of-"
"Of arrest," finished the American, neatly. "There just is, and don't you make any mistake about it. That professor chap won't give up the money without a try to get some."
"You mistrust him?"
"Oh, I reckon so. When he kept to his studies he was a harmless sort of cuss, but now he's taken a hand in this game with the chance of a fortune if he wins, why, he'll stick at nothing to land his stake. You go ahead, Calvert, and tell me what you told Miss Mason. Then I'll smooth it out and tot up."
Seeing that the American really wished to be a friend, and having considerable belief in his cleverness, Arnold related all that had taken place from the time he received the forged letter. When he ended, Tracey expressed a desire to see the letters. But Arnold, unprepared for this conversation, had not brought them with him.
"Can you remember the dates?" asked Tracey. "Both were written on the twenty-third."
"Hum! And posted on the twenty-fourth. Close running, that."
"Only one was posted. That supposed to be an answer from me to Laura."
"And the other was brought by a messenger?" asked Tracey.
"Yes."
"Did you reply to the forged letter?"
"No. Remember I only received it late in the afternoon. Believing it really came from Laura, I thought I would see her quicker than a letter could be delivered."
"Did Miss Mason look at the post-mark?"
"No. She burnt the envelope too."
"That's a pity. We might have found in what district the letter was posted. However, we may learn from the district telegraph office, who gave in the letter to be delivered on the twenty-fourth."
"We don't know the office."
"I'll find it," said Luther coolly, "if I hunt through every office of that sort in London. By the way, when you were in the house did you hear any one about?"
"No. Not a soul. And yet-" he hesitated.
"Who was singing while you talked to Mulligan?"
Arnold jumped up and shuddered. "Tracey, I declare that was the most horrible thing about the business. I don't know."
"Yet you were in the room."
"I was, and I saw the dead body, which I recognised as that of my cousin. I saw the policeman pass and repass out of the window. Then, thinking he was gone, I went out."
"Wait a bit. You told Miss Mason, that you saw him leaning over the gate? Don't make any mistake. This is important."
Arnold coloured. "I am telling you the exact truth. I was so confused over the whole business that I mix up things. I left the room before the singing commenced. I waited in the hall for ten minutes, hoping the policeman would not come back. Then I opened the door-"
"Hold on a shake. Why didn't you go up and see who was singing?"
"Tracey, I couldn't. My nerve was already shaken when I left the room with the dead in it. I recognised my peril, seeing I knew who she was-the dead woman, I mean. In the darkness of the hall I was waiting when I heard a woman's voice singing 'Kathleen Mavourneen.' I was so shaken that I scarcely knew what to do. All my desire was to get away from that horrible house. I opened the door, and saw the policeman at the gate. I hesitated and then faced him-the rest you know."
Tracey looked at his pointed boots and considered. "What a fool you were not to steal upstairs and see who was singing. You might have found the murderess."
"Murderess!"
"Yes," said Tracey, getting off the couch, "from the fact of the singing I guess it was a woman who killed Mrs. Brand."
"No," said Arnold decidedly; "if a woman had done so, she certainly would not have risked my return."
"Oh, I guess she knew you were scared to death. And perhaps she believed you had cleared out."
"She would have heard the door close."
"Not she. You closed it quietly, I reckon."
"So quietly that Mulligan did not hear."
"There you see." Luther took a turn up and down the room. "See here, I'm going to camp out here and search."
"For what?" asked Calvert, puzzled.
"For letters, pictures, diaries, and all that sort of thing."
"You won't find any. Derrick discovered that everything had been removed, by the murderer no doubt, so that the reason for the crime would not be discovered."
"That's so. And you hang on to the fact that it was a woman who engineered this job. A man wouldn't be so 'cute. She came right along when all was quiet and looted the house. But I guess Derrick's a fool. There may be all kinds of papers hanging round. And he didn't examine the dustbin. Now, I did, and I found a torn photo-"
"Of Brand?" asked Calvert breathlessly.
"No; of Mrs. Brand."
Calvert looked disappointed.
"Derrick has one already."
"I guess so, and he don't know what use to make of it. I find on the photograph, very naturally, the name of the photographer."
"Well, what of that?"
"You make me tired," said Tracey impatiently. "I'm going to see if that man's got a photograph of the husband. Married people sometimes get taken together. If Mrs. Brand had a photo taken at this man's place, she would probably, when she wanted another, or to be photographed with her husband, go there. Don't you catch on? Besides, the husband may have gone with her without being taken. Oh, I'll get his picture."
"But what good will that do?"
"Well, it might put a clue into our hands. He may have loved the woman who stabbed his wife."
"It's all theory," said Arnold impatiently.
"And I guess it will be, till we get down to the bed-rock of the business," said the American dryly. "However-hullo Snakes, what's that row?"
"It's a ring at the bell," said Arnold, peering out of the window. He then drew back with a look of surprise. "It's Jasher."
"Great Scot! What's he come here for? All the better: we'll interview him. I'd like to see the sort of man you have running the biz. We might syndicate. Yes-oh I guess so."
In a few minutes Jasher, round and rosy and fat and short of breath, was in the room, expressing his surprise at the sight of his employer.
"I just came up to have a look at the house," said he; "and never expected to see you here, or Mr. Tracey either."
"What's that?" queried Tracey, "you know my name?"
"Jasher sat down and wiped his bald forehead.
"I had the pleasure of seeing you out of the window of Professor Bocaros's house. You were walking with a young lady. He told me your name and-"
"That's all right. Well, sir, I'm hanging out here, looking after this case. Yes, you bet I've taken a hand."
"Jasher looked annoyed, and turned to Calvert.
"You gave the case into my hands, sir," he said in an aggrieved tone.
"That's as right as a pie," said Tracey coolly, and before Arnold could speak; "but I guess you're paid, and I'm an amateur. There's no law against my joining in this old country, is there?"
"No," said Jasher stiffly; "but I prefer to work alone."
"Right you are. I'll swing on my own peg. Well" – Tracey lighted his sixth cigarette-"what's doing?"
Jasher, with marked annoyance, turned his broad back on the man who was meddling-as he considered it-with his business, and addressed himself to Arnold.
"Do you wish me to report, sir?"
"If you please," said Calvert, amused by the detective's anger.
"I would rather do it alone."
Tracey lifted his shoulders.
"I'll take a hand at patience in another room," said he, sauntering to the door. "Call me when the pow-pow's over, Calvert," and he went out singing, with Jasher looking after him distrustfully.
"Well, Jasher, what is it?" asked Calvert, sitting down again.
The detective took a seat, and looked sadly at his employer. The two could hear Tracey singing in the back garden, so they talked in their ordinary tones. Shortly the singing stopped, but then Jasher was too much engrossed to think Tracey might be listening. However, he set the door of the room ajar so that the American's ear should not be at the keyhole. Having taken this precaution, he sat down, and as above stated looked sadly at his employer.
"Why don't you trust me, sir?" he asked reproachfully.
"In what way?" asked Calvert, turning cold.
"Well, sir, you mayn't know it, but Professor Bocaros grudges you this fortune, and wants to get up a case against you."
"I fancy he'll find that difficult. Has he been troubling you?"
"He wanted me to play low down," said Jasher gloomily; "but as you are my employer, and have the money-I must be frank," he broke off in a burst of confidence-"you have the cash and Bocaros hasn't, so I stick to you."
"Thanks!" said Arnold dryly. "Well?"
"I am still friends with Bocaros," went on Jasher calmly, "as I don't want him to suspect, and I must keep an eye on him. However, he's found out several things." Here Jasher stopped and looked at Arnold firmly. "You, sir, were the man with the pointed beard who spoke to Mulligan, and had the latch-key."
"How can you prove that?" asked Calvert quietly.
"Well, sir, I went to the theatre and saw that your make-up was the same as that described by Mulligan; also the clothes. Then Bocaros and I found out from your understudy that you were away from the theatre till after nine, and the woman was killed about that time. Finally, Mrs. Fane's maid told me that a stage dagger of the sort you wear in the second act of the play was found in the dustbin of Ajax Villa. You inherit the fortune, sir, and that taken in conjunction with these circumstances makes Bocaros think you killed the poor woman yourself. I'm afraid I wasn't so careful with the professor as I should have been," said Jasher apologetically; "but, now I know he is your enemy, I will keep my eye on him."
"The professor knows all this?"
"Yes. He learned something of it from Mrs. Fane's maid, and he was at supper with me, when we spoke to your understudy, Hart. Bocaros wanted to go to Derrick with the information; but I persuaded him not to do so for the present. But there's no denying that you are in a difficult position, and the professor is dangerous."
"Calvert pitched his cigarette on the floor and glanced out of the window. He was not so surprised as Jasher expected him to be, as he had always mistrusted Bocaros. But he recognised his danger, and spoke frankly.
"What do you think, Jasher?"
"I don't think you did it, sir, if that's what you ask me."
"Why not. I was the young man who spoke to Mulligan. I went to Troy in my make-up. I was in the house, and I recognised the body. And the dagger found in the dustbin is mine. Now, what do you say?"
"I say that I'm more certain than ever you ain't guilty," said Jasher doggedly; "you wouldn't put your neck into the noose if you were the man wanted. And you wouldn't have engaged me to hunt you down to get hanged."
"You are very clever, Jasher," said Calvert, with a nervous laugh. "I am innocent, as you say. This woman was killed before nine."
"So the doctor said at the inquest, sir."
"Then, if you will ask my landlady you will find that I was asleep in my room at that time. A messenger came from the theatre asking me to finish the piece as-"
"As Hart was ill. I know that. But did you go later?"
"Yes. I went to keep an appointment with Miss Mason. It was made for half-past nine, and when I got to the villa she wasn't there. I entered the house, and after seeing the dead body I came out, dreading lest I should be accused of killing my cousin. The dagger I left in this house by mistake, so I have no doubt she took it with her to Ajax Villa for some purpose, and was killed with it. Who killed her I am not in a position to say. So you see, Jasher, I can prove an
alibi
."
Jasher nodded and seemed relieved.
"I'm glad you have so clear a defence, sir," said he heartily. "I should not like to have been the means of hunting you down. But what was Mrs. Brand doing at the villa?"
"Ah! that I can't tell you."
"Jasher asked a great many questions, mostly of the sort which Luther had asked, and seemed quite puzzled. Calvert told Jasher that the American suspected a woman of having killed Mrs. Brand. This, however, Jasher shook his head at.
"A woman wouldn't have the nerve," he said. "However, I'll think over that. There's Mrs. Fane, of course."
"What about her?" asked Arnold angrily.
"Well, sir, she (as I learn from the professor, who heard it from Miss Baldwin) hates you, and doesn't want you to marry her sister. The song sung was hers. So she might have-"
"Rubbish!" said Arnold, jumping up. "I am surprised at you, man. Mrs. Fane was at Westcliff-on-Sea."
"Yes; and I guess she ran away with my car," cried Tracey.
"What!" said Jasher, pink to the ears. "Have you been listening?"
"You bet," said Luther coolly; "had my ear to the wall the whole time. This house is a shell. Now the conversation's come round to my way of thinking, I've come to sail in. You're a smart man," said Luther, wringing the detective's hand. "I agree with you. A woman did the trick, and Mrs. Fane's the woman."
Jasher felt complimented. "Well, sir, now you are in and know all, I don't mind your remaining. Mrs. Fane-"
"I won't hear it," cried Arnold; "it is ridiculous!"
"Don't see it," argued Tracey. "She's one of these tall women who could easily overpower a little woman like Mrs. Brand."
"But what reason had she to kill Mrs. Brand?"
"She wanted to lay the blame on you and stop your marriage."
"Stuff and nonsense! Why should she kill Mrs. Brand for that? She did not know the woman was my cousin, or that money was coming to me; I didn't know myself till the lawyers wrote after the death."
"It's a rum case altogether," said Jasher, nursing his chin on his fat hand. "I can't see my way."
"I can," said Luther briskly; "you go right along and make inquiries about Mrs. Fane, and I'll go on my own. Then come here and we'll size the business up when we pool the notes."
"But Mrs. Fane was at Westcliff-on-Sea," said Arnold distracted.
"And she took my motor-car to get back."
"To Charing Cross?" asked Jasher disbelievingly.
"You bet. That was a blind. There's a late train to Westcliff-on-Sea on Saturday night. Mrs. Fane could leave this house when you, Calvert, left it about eleven. She could rip along in my flier to Charing Cross in twenty minutes, and then leaving the car there, she could take the underground to Bishopsgate to catch the late train. That's what she did. Oh, I've worked it out."
"Jasher seemed struck with this speech. I'll make inquiries at Liverpool Street station," he said. "But, sir," he added, turning to Calvert, "seeing that there is a danger of your being arrested, will you go on with this case?"
"Why not? I am innocent!"
Jasher shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, it's none of my business," said he. "I know you are innocent, as you can prove the
alibi
, or it would be my duty to arrest you. But unless you can close the mouth of Bocaros, he will tell Derrick, and then-"
"Then I'll face the business out," said Arnold proudly. "I have been a fool; but I am not a knave or a murderer. What do you say, Tracey?"
"I'm with you," said the American; "go through with the biz."
"Jasher shrugged his shoulders. It would be better to bribe the professor to silence," he said. "However, I have my orders, and I'll go o