Dead Man's Court

Chapter I

___E Cousin iPercg. (fij%SUHm~~ UH E N J wrote this story, I did not p^MBgll [ intend it for publication, or, at ((■ |z pSNi^'^o V a^ events, not for many years to vlfrfiffeA? V come. I simply set down the ■-A'-KJW/ v» incidents in narrative-form whilst <-> they were fresh in my memory, six months ago ; and then I locked away the manuscript, in the full determination that, if ever it did reach the printer's hands, it should be when the surviving actors in the drama should have passed away. But fate, in the shape of a literary friend (I had almost said fiend) has forced my hand. In an evil hour I entrusted the MS. to this friend-fiend, upon a solemn understanding that it should neither leave his possession nor be shown to any other person. He presently wrote to me from New York, whither he had gone upon some literary business, informing me that he had scrupulously observed the conditions I had imposed, but that he could not reconcile it with his conscience to allow the present generation to be deprived of the outline at least of the story ; and, that if I adhered to my obstinate determination not to publish it, he would himself write a tale upon the same incidents, which he would subsequently dramatise.

In vain I wrote back up braiding him indignantly for his proposed treachery. He replied, in a vein of banter, that I might take my choice : either publish the MS., or let him use the materials. He pointed out that I could not play the part of the Dog in the Manger, even if I wished to, since he had possession of the pabulum ; and that he considered my previous intention to be reprehensibly selfish. Under the circumstances, I gave way ; pre ferring that the story should be faithfully given than be utilised as the groundwork for a shilling shocker or for a transpontine melodrama. And thus it is that the story of Dead Man's Court is prematurely given to the world. In the early part of 1892 I shared rooms, or chambers as we preferred to call them, with a fellow student of the Inner Temple named Christopher Marsden.

But, although Templars, we did not reside within Temple precincts ; for we were both depend ent, for the comforts at least of life, upon our pens, and we had, for several reasons, pitched our tent in the neighbourhood of Dean's Close, Westminster, — no matter the precise street. We considered our selves to be freer, more comfortable, and (important consideration) under less rent, than we should have been in the vicinity of Fleet Street. Of course we were undergoing the three years' apprenticeship of periodical dinners in Hall, with a prospective examination to wind up with, known as " reading for the Bar ; " but, inasmuch as the dinners were few and the examination an easy one, we had abundance of spare time on hand, which, as I have said, we devoted to literary work. Our flights were not very ambitious nor were our average receipts very dazzling ; but as we each had about £200 a year of our own, we contrived to pull along very comfortably in a quiet way.

Upon April 13th we had just finished breakfast and were enjoying a post - prandial pipe before starting work, when an impatient rapping at the door heralded the entrance of my cousin, Percy Wentworth, with a bull-dog of forbidding aspect at his heels. From the glasses slung over his shoulders, it was evident that Percy was upon racing thoughts intent, and I remembered that it was in fact the City and Suburban day. Percy Wentworth was twenty-two (just my own age), and, in virtue of an unencumbered twelve hundred a-year, to which he had succeeded upon attaining his majority, was something of a Man about Town, and a pronounced pupil of the Masher school. But he was as good-natured and genuine as he was good-looking and stalwart. I often thought that the twelve hundred a-year had rather spoilt a young fellow who, had he been compelled to eke out a small income as I was, would have made a mark in any one of half-a-dozen fields of usefulness.

However, there he was, an idle man, with absolutely nothing to think about save his own amusements. I can see him now as he burst noisily in upon us, his blue eyes full of seductive mischief. " You 're a pretty pair of midnight-oil burners ! " he exclaimed, throwing himself into an arm-chair. " Past eleven, and only just finished breakfast ! No, thanks, none for me. I 've had a snack that will carry me over till lunch down at Epsom. By the way, I could do a whisky-and-soda, though." I got him the desired peg, whilst Kit Marsden prepared a plateful of scraps for the dog, which that animal proceeded to devour, with a hideous scowl of gratitude. " Now then, Dick," pursued Percy, lighting a huge Bock, " I want you to do me two favours. Come down with me to Epsom to see Buccaneer land me a big haul ; and wind up the evening by a bit of a fly round."

" Can't manage it, my dear fellow," I replied. Dead Mails Court. 12 "I have two articles which I must finish by four o'clock, and — " Oh, bother the articles ! " interrupted Percy. " Let them wait ; I 've a fancy for asking you to accompany me to-day. Call it superstition, if you like ; but come along, there 's a good chap ! " But I was in an inflexible mood, and positively refused to abandon my articles, which indeed were overdue and important. " Well," said my cousin, finding entreaty of no avail, "will you dine with me this evening, say eight o'clock, at Cavour's ? " "All right," I answered, "I'll be there. And now finish up your peg and clear out. Time is precious this morning." Percy laughed and rose from his chair " Oh ! before I go," he said, " I wish you would take a snap-shot I got at a pretty girl, out of this pin you gave me, and develop it for me.

Such a stunner ! Never saw such brown eyes and copper hair in jour life ! She was crossing Regent Street with a middle-aged foreigner (Spaniard, I fancy), and they both lost their heads between two hansoms. I was just in time to pull her clear, and whilst the thanksgiving business was going on, I took a snap shot at her. The father (for such he turned out to be) was overwhelmingly grateful, and we exchanged cards. Gentlemanly fellow enough, and speaks English perfectly. Seen service, I should think, for he has a deep scar over the right eye and he 's a finger short in the left hand. But the girl's mother must have been an Englishwoman. She never got her eyes and complexion from him ! " Percy's affaires de cœur were numberless, and so his enthusiasm over his latest discovery was nothing out of the way.

The pin to which he referred was a present I had recently made him and which I had purchased in Paris. To all appearance, it was merely a circular crystal disc, about the size of a shilling, set in a gold rim. But behind the crystal was a small receptacle for sensitised plates, — a di minutive detective -camera, in fact, mounted as a scarf-pin. The camera worked by air-pressure, generated by squeezing an india-rubber ball, and communicated through a fine tube. These toys can be bought everywhere now, of course ; but three years ago they were a novelty, and this one had been specially made to order. I had shown it to Percy, who had taken such a fancy to it that I had given it to him. But, understanding nothing about photo graphy, or the mechanism of the toy, he often brought it to me to readjust.

He now handed me the pin. I removed the plate which he wished developed, and replaced the pin in his scarf. " I shall take a shot at Buccaneer as he romps past the post," said Percy, producing a roll of bank notes. " Three hundred, Dick, and all going on Buccaneer in a pp. bet ! I shall return a regular Crœsus." My cousin's wagers were, of course, no business of mine, and I knew of old the uselessness of advising him not to bet. He was especially hard to convert from his gambling proclivities because, either through good luck or good judgment, he generally won. " I say, Dick," he added, as I finally got him to the door, " I wish you would keep Spring here for me till I get back. Bring him on with you to Cavour's. It will save me returning to my rooms." To this I assented, for the dog was quiet, despite his ferocious aspect, and knew me quite well.

Half way downstairs, Percy stopped. " For the last time, Dick, are you coming to Epsom ? You '11 be sorry if you don't. Buccaneer is bound to win the City and Sub.! " Poor Percy ! He was right in both predictions. Buccaneer did win, and I was sorry I did not go down — sorry, with a deep, abiding sorrow. I was fond of my cousin ; for, apart from being such a thoroughly good fellow, we were both only-children and orphans, and he was my nearest living relative. But as fate willed it, I adhered to my refusal. Had I gone, this story would most probably never have been written. Kit Marsden and I worked, and chatted, and smoked. He was rather a thorn in my flesh that afternoon, because my articles needed very careful thought, and his own work impelled him to consult me with irritating frequency. He was writing some sort of a Sherlock Holmes short story, and had tied his mystery in such a knot that Holmes himself would have been puzzled to solve it without fastening the crime on the apparent perpetrator.

" For Heaven's sake, Kit," said I, at length, " go across to Scotland Yard and give the profes sionals a turn, or I shall be running your con founded plot into the Eastern Question ! " " That 's a capital idea of yours ! " exclaimed Kit, seizing his hat and note-book. " I '11 take counsel's opinion." I contrived to get my own copy finished and posted by five o'clock, and then sallied forth with Spring to kill time until the hour fixed for dinner at Cavour's. I learnt from an evening paper that Buccaneer had won the City and Suburban, and knew that Percy would come back with his pockets well filled. He often made large pp. wagers, having some idea that they brought him luck. At the quoted starting-price of eight to one, he should have won £2,400, in addition to the £300 he had taken with him.

His rooms were in Half-Moon Street, Piccadilly, and there I presently left Spring. Eight o'clock found me discussing a sherry-and bitters at Cavour's bar, awaiting Percy's arrival. At half-past eight I concluded that he had some how been detained and gave him up, proceeding to dine alone at a table near the entrance, so that I might see him should he arrive later. But, although I dawdled over my dinner until ten o'clock, I could get no glimpse of him. The head-waiter knew him and promised to send him to Half-Moon Street should he turn up. I then went there myself to make inquiries. At any other time I should have thought little of his non-appearance, especially on a race-day ; but the fact that he probably had a very large sum of money in his pocket-book somehow made me feel a bit uneasy. He had not returned to his rooms ; so I left a note telling him that I had gone on to the Tivoli, which was rather a favourite haunt of his.

I saw the programme through. Then I took a hansom and hunted him up in every haunt that I could think of, but I could neither see nor hear of him. Not until two a.m. did I give up the search. Then I returned to my own rooms and went to bed, with an uneasy suspicion on my mind that Percy had gone upon some wild spree and would probably wake up in the morning minus his pocket-book. However, I derived some consolation by reflecting that the loss would not seriously affect him, if indeed it did not serve as a wholesome lesson ; and that, after all, the result would have been the same had Buccaneer failed to win the race. Of course next morning I told Kit Marsden of Percy's non-appearance and of my suspicions as to the cause, and I could see that my chum already viewed the affair as the nucleus of another short story.

" It's a little bit played out," he remarked, " this incident of the rich young swell who wins a pot of money and afterwards gets inveigled into Circe's toils and robbed ; but still there may be new features in Wentworth's case. Let us go and hunt him up. Perhaps, after all, he merely took a few ' pegs ' too many and slept down at Epsom." Inquiries at Half-Moon Street revealed the fact that at all events he had not yet turned up at his rooms ; but this, his landlord assured me, was nothing unusual. Clearly the necessity for a change of clothing would ensure his return home some time during the day, and I left a second note asking him to let me know when he got back. Somewhat to my surprise, Spring followed us into the street, as though he too was uneasy at his master's prolonged absence. " Tell Mr. Wentworth I have taken the dog for a run down to my chambers," I said to the landlord.

But Spring had his own ideas upon the subject, and instead of following us into St. James's Park — our shortest way home — trotted off towards Piccadilly Circus, stopping several times to see if we were going with him. This I decided to do, whilst Marsden elected to return to Westminster. Seeing me behind him, the dog moved sedately onwards, turned into the Burlington Arcade, took a look in at a couple of the shops, and finally entered the Blue Posts in Cork Street, where he was evidently well known. But neither barmaids nor waiters had seen aught of my cousin. Spring visited half-a-dozen other places in succession, including Percy's club, but I still received the same replies. At length he led me to a somewhat disreputable-looking house approached by an archway at the angle of New Burlington Street, and very calmly proceeded to sit down upon the door-step.

My curiosity was aroused. 2 * Apparently the dog was accustomed to visit this unsavoury looking abode which, beyond some dirty blinds in the window, showed no signs of being inhabited. I pulled several times at the bell, but no one answered the summons. Seeing a policeman yawning at the corner, of him I besought half-a crown's worth of information. "It's a club of some sort," replied he, eyeing me doubtfully but palming the coin. " ' The Owls,' I think they call themselves. Not a bad name either, seeing as the place ain't visited in the daytime." " A gambling club ? " I ventured to suggest. " Not as I know of, sir," responded the constable, drily. " It is kept very quiet and respectable, and no complaints have ever reached us about it." It struck me that the man knew, or at least sus pected, more than his words suggested.

But then, if Bobby blabbed about everything that he sees around him in the West End, how ever could he provide for his old age ? I mentally resolved to ask Percy about the place, for I felt pretty sure it was one of the numerous gambling - hells which still flourish sub rosd within a furlong of Piccadilly. And having, with some difficulty, persuaded Spring of the uselessness of squatting outside a deserted house, we proceeded together to Westminster. I called twice again at Half-Moon Street, once late at night ; but no tidings had been received of my cousin. Not until the following day did the landlord express any uneasiness. Then he confessed that such a prolonged absence was unaccountable on ordinary grounds, and even suggested that a few cautious enquiries at a police - station might be advisable.

But I was now thoroughly alarmed for Percy's safety, and decided to place the matter in the hands of the Scotland Yard authorities. Marsden was acquainted with some of the officials, and accompanied me to the head-quarters of the Law's bloodhounds. After briefly stating the case and answering several well - put questions, the Inspector on duty became very grave. "We have just received information," he said, " which may throw light upon your cousin's disap pearance. I sincerely hope not; but your description tallies almost exactly with that of a body found, about an hour ago, near Chelsea Bridge." Dcad_\Man's Court. 22 " Great God ! " I exclaimed, horror - stricken. " Percy drowned ! The thing cannot be ! Let me see the description." With trembling hand I seized a telegram, which the Inspector offered me, and read : "At 1.40 body found near Chelsea Bridge.

Male, apparently under 25. Length, 5 feet 11 inches. Strongly built and well nourished. Hands and appearance those of a gentleman. Clean shaven, blue eyes, fair hair clipped short. Mark resembling recent burn on left breast. Dressed in flannel shirt, old blue serge suit, patched blucher boots, no socks. No papers or valuables, except id. in copper. Awaiting divisional surgeon to report." When I had finished I gave a sigh of relief. " Thank Heaven ! " I cried. " This is not Percy Wentworth. Except in the height, the colour of the eyes and hair, and the hands, this description in no way tallies. He wears a moustache ; his hair is rather curly and thick ; and the clothing is absurdly dissimilar to his." " I trust your opinion may be correct, sir," rejoined the Inspector. "But I tell you candidly, I do not attach any importance to the discrepancies you point out.

I shall ask you to accompany an Officer to Chelsea Station." And within two minutes, Marsden, a detective, and I were in a hansom speeding Chelseawards. At the first glance neither Marsden nor I recognised Percy Wentworth in the livid, discoloured face which we were shown. The absence of the moustache, the close -crop of the hair, and the action of the water, deceived us for a moment. But only for a moment. A good look convinced us that the ghastly countenance was indeed that of my unfortunate cousin ; and the discovery turned me so sick at heart that, but for some brandy hastily procured for me by the surgeon, I must have fainted straightway. The fact of the identification was at once tele phoned to Scotland Yard, and the divisional surgeon proceeded to make a preliminary examination of the corpse.

Subject to confirmation by a subsequent post-mortem examination he gave it as his opinion that death had been caused by a stab in the heart, the orifice of the wound having been subsequently seared by a hot iron — probably with a clumsily conceived design of masking the puncture ; that death had certainly preceded immersion in the water ; and that the body had been in the river about a day and a half. From the appearance of the upper lip, examined under a strong glass, he decided that the moustache had been shaved off also after death. The clothes, of course, told their own tale. Percy Wentworth had been foully murdered, and his murderer had taken such precautions as had occurred to him to prevent recognition of his victim's body. That evening, and for days afterwards, all London rang with the murder ; and Marsden and I had to hide ourselves from the inquisitive visits of eager reporters.

Then followed the coroner's inquest, which we both attended. Several gentlemen (including a particular friend of Percy's, Lord Crasherton) testified to having seen the deceased at Epsom. Half-a-dozen bookmakers deposed to having paid him an aggregate sum of £2,400 over the City and Suburban handicap. But how, when, or in what company he had left the race-course there was no evidence to show. The medical testimony fully bore out the opinions ex pressed by the police-surgeon as to the cause of death, the instrument used having clearly been a very fine-bladed dagger or stiletto, which had pene trated the heart in a direction almost vertical. The contents of the stomach showed that death had taken place almost immediately after a meal, of which lobster formed the chief item and which was presumably, therefore, supper.

In the end a verdict of " Wilful murder against some person or persons unknown " was returned. The Police took up the case with great energy, and I offered a reward of £1,000 for information to guide their researches. But although the}' effected several arrests on suspicion, nothing came of their efforts ; and Marsden informed me that Scotland Yard had well-nigh abandoned all hopes of tracing the crime to its perpetrator. To myself, poor Percy's death made a vast difference so far as my worldly prospects were con cerned. Not only was I his natural heir, but he had left a short will, dated many months previously, entirely in my favour. From comparative poverty, I now found myself master of nearly fourteen hundred a year, and was consequently free to take life as leisurely or as seriously as I chose.

Literature, except for my own amusement, I gave up, and just read sufficient law from time to time to qualify me eventually for my call to the Bar. I gradually fell somewhat into my late cousin's Man about Town habits, as I suppose nine young fellows out of every ten would have done in my place. But I never for one hour forgot one thing. From the very first, I swore to myself that I would leave no stone un turned to trace Percy's murderer, and, although not even Marsden, with all his Sherlock Holmes in stincts, could find me a clue to follow, I never lost sight of my object. I had a large faith in the Chapter of Accidents.

Chapter II

Ht Jfault. I V E N the fact that a gentleman has been murdered and robbed of a large sum of money won at a race-meeting, and one need not be a detective to form the theory that the murderer thief is most probably himself a frequenter of race-courses. The bookmakers with whom Percy had done business made no mystery of the fact that they had paid over the money more or less publicly, as they generally do in the case of pp. wagers ; and the inference was that dozens of onlookers might have seen Percy stuffing the notes into his pocket-book. What more reasonable to suppose than that one or more of the black-sheep, which infest even the most sacred turf precincts, had witnessed the transactions and sub sequently shadowed the winner to his death? The -7 bookmakers concerned were themselves men entirely above suspicion, well-known and highly-respected members of Tattersall's ; but I had reason to know that the detectives were watching even them very narrowly, whilst every possible quiet research was being made amongst the less reputable hangers on of the Turf.

If the obvious theory were the correct one, and the criminal in any way belonged to the racing division of humanity, there was every probability that the keen-scented sleuth-hounds of Scotland Yard would, sooner or later, run him down. I felt therefore that any individual inquiries which I might seek to make, in this quarter, would be superfluous, if indeed they did not work more harm than good by putting the guilty persons on their guard. And, abandoning this field to the profes sional experts, I pursued my own investigations upon other and very different lines. The evidence proved that Percy had been murdered late upon the very night of the race meeting ; that, whilst I was dining at Cavour's, he was in the toils of the assassin. Consequently he had returned to London after the races and, most probably, in time to have kept his appointment with me.

What inducements could have been held out to him to make him change his plans and abandon me ? He might have drunk too much (though I had never seen him seriously affected by liquor) and so have forgotten the appointment, or remembered it too late to make it worth while keeping it. That was conceivable. He had not been quite as steady as a rock when he had asked for whisky in my chambers, and racing is thirsty work. Perhaps even, knowing himself to have exceeded decorous limits, he had purposely avoided Cavour's, taking it for granted I would not wait long for him. That also was possible. And the conclusion, in either case, was that he had made himself too drunk to appear in a public room frequented by gentlemen. This also would account for his not even calling at his rooms. He would not wish his landlord or servant to see him intoxicated.

So far my theory appeared to be based upon firm ground. Here I found myself wishing that medical analysis had been able to give more definite infor mation as to the meals of which he had partaken. If he had not dined, then clearly he had not been sober enough to dine ; but the doctors were silent on this point. All that seemingly had been clear to them was that he had eaten some lobster very shortly before he had been murdered. Now one usually eats lobster at supper and not earlier than midnight. Percy had consequently sufficiently re covered (assuming the drunken theory) to eat supper. Lobsters are not commonly found in such private houses as he would probably have visited in his then state. He had, most likely, supped in some restaurant, from which he had been decoyed to some place near the river and forthwith assassinated.

These reasonings, which I felt convinced were mainly accurate, reduced me to the question, What would naturally be the decoy used in the case of a young, hot-blooded fellow like Percy ? The question answered itself. A woman there was and must be at the bottom of the mystery. Moreover, my knowledge of my cousin's character and tastes en abled me to form an idea as to what sort of a woman she must have been. A chance nymph of the pavement was not to be thought of, for he was very fastidious in his admiration of the fair sex. She would need to be something very far removed from the common herd of temptresses, something, outwardly, at least, refined and good form. Pretty she would also need to be, and young. But pretty, refined, ladylike girls are not often discovered and successfully wooed by young gentlemen, who return intoxicated from a race-meeting.

Moreover such paragons do not plan and carry out deliberate murders within a few hours. Hence I was driven to the conclusion that Percy had been in the society of some girl whom he already knew and that she had, wittingly or unwittingly, aided a preconcerted plot to murder and rob him. It was not necessary to assume that she was cognisant of the plot against his life. Such might or might not have been the case. Finally my theory concentrated as follows : Percy came back from Epsom, unfit to face Cavour's or his landlord, and shadowed by his subsequent murderer who had followed him anticipating an easy victim in a drunken man. He betook himself to the abode of some Lais of his acquaintance, most probably in Chelsea, where he had slept off the effects of his excessive potations. He had later on accompanied her to supper in some neighbouring restaurant ; and, upon subsequently leaving her, in his sober senses, had been waylaid, murdered, robbed, and thrown into the river.

My first object must therefore be to find out the girl and learn from her where she and Percy had supped ; for, that he had supped with a girl and at a restaurant, seemed to me to be absolutely certain. Possibly she might have noticed, or the waiters might have noticed, other guests present of sus picious aspect ; or some one may have been seen hovering about the premises outside. Once upon the right track, unexpected clues often turn up. Lord Crasherton had, as I have said, been a friend of Percy's and, in our grief at his terrible death, we had become somewhat intimate. He was heir to an earldom with an enormous rent roll, twenty-four years of age, belonged to a very fast set, and was not overburdened with brains ; but he was the very essence of good-nature and deservedly popular with everybody.

He had rooms next door to those lately occupied by Percy and which I had taken over with the rest of the poor fellow's belong ings ; and we therefore saw a good deal of each other. To him I communicated my views regarding the murder. " By Jove, Denville," he remarked in his quiet, drawling way, " that 's deuced clever, don't you know, to piece the affair together so clearly. I daresay it came about exactly as you say." "Tell me," I asked, "when you saw my cousin on the course was he sober? " " He seemed a bit excited," was the reply, "especially after the big race ; but it did not strike me that he was 'tight.' He had come down by train, but I offered him a seat back in my trap. This he accepted, but I lost the run of him after the Handicap. My idea afterwards was that he suddenly took it into his head to return at once to town and that he didn't wait to see the other races.