The Carbuncle Clue. A mystery

Front matter

THE CARBUNCLE CLUE A MYSTERY BY FERGUS HUME AUTHOR OF 'THE MYSTERY OF A HANSOM CAB," "MONSIEUR JUDAS," "THE WHITE PRIOR," ETC. LONDON FREDERICK WARNE & CO. AND NEW YORK CONTENTS. CH A_TER PAUE I. The Murder i_ Gaeey Street .... 9 II. What Mrs. Phorney Heard 17 III. Doolan's Statement 25 IV. The Man from Lima 33 V. The Accused 41 VT. The Key of the Chamber 49 VII. The Folded Paper 57 VIII. Lena Darrel 67 IX. The Other Woman 75 X. The Dead Man's Name 83 XI. A Leader in the " Morning Planet " . .92 XII. Sixpence 99 xiii. Pretty Mrs. Brynmaur 108 XIV . Diplomacy 117 XV. The Carved Stick 126 XVI. An Important Discovery 134 XV_C. A Duel of Words 140 XVIII. Another Surprise 149 XIX. Stele est the Dark 157 XX. Mrs. Brynmaur's " At Home " . . . . 165 XXI. A Mysterious Individual 173 XXII. A Daughter's Devotion CONTENTS.

CHAPTER PAOE XXIII. The Dead Man's Diary 189 XXP7. The Missing Link 197 XXV. Mrs. Brynmaur's Story 205 XXVI. The Secret of the Staff 217 XXVII. Madrazo at Bay 224 XXVin. Run to Earth 234 XXIX. A Full Confession 243 XXX. The Opinion of Octavius Rixton . . CHAPTEE I. THE MUEDEE IN GAEEY STEEET. In the month of July, '94, at 6.40, the Plymouth ex press was slowing down for Swindon Junction. Here the majority of the passengers alighted for a few minutes to stretch their legs, to refresh themselves, and to purchase the country editions of the London evening papers. Octavius Fanks, detective, bought the "Globe," "Westminster," and "Star," hastily swaUowed a glass of wine at the buffet, and returned to the first-class smoking compartment which he had been fortunate enough to secure at Bristol. Here he settled himself in a corner to learn what events had taken place since his absence from the Metropobs.

The perusal of the three newspapers afforded him ample food for reflection ; he guessed that they would, from the harrowing shriek of Smiths' newsboys. " 'Orrid murder in Garry Street ; mj Tsterus crime in Westminster. Hextra speshill ; arrist of th' mur direr. Full details an' 'igh bfe revilations. ' Star,' ' Hecho,' ' Westminster.' 'Ere y'are, sir. Murder !" As a detective, Fanks was naturally interested in 1! the announcement, and when the express moved out of the station he unfolded the " Star " and settled down to read full details of the crime. The report of the latest London tragedy was set forth with sen sational headlines, as follows : — ■ " MYSTERIOUS MURDER IN WESTMINSTER CHAMBERS. "aeeest of a well-known HAN-ABOUT-TOWN. " Revelations in High Life. "At twelve o'clock last night a dead man was discovered in tlie chambers of Mr. Gerald Conway, Garry Street, Westminster.

Chapter II. What Mes

PHOENEY HEAED. As Rixton surmised, the case had been placed in the hands of Crate, but a representation to the proper authorities soon remedied this mistake : the more so as Crate recognised that the problem was beyond his powers to solve. Since the affair of the Chinese Jar. he had ceased to be envious of his brother officer, and contented himself with the simplest matters connected with criminal escapades. As he frankly admitted to his former rival, he pitied rather than envied him his task. Indeed, he hinted that by arresting Conway, the law had penetrated the mystery and concluded the case. Rixton differed altogether from this view of the affair. " You make yourself easy, Crate," he said, quietly, " Conway will be standing free, and innocent, in a few weeks." "And by your instrumentality the true criminal will be in goal ?"

" Oh ! I don't say that : I confess the matter is beyond me at present. I can say nothing until I see c the room wherein the murder took place, and inter view the owner of that room." " Pooh ! pooh ! Conway admits that he alone has the key of his chambers, so without his aid the dead man could not have entered." "And that very admission is to my mind a proof of Conway's innocence," said Rixton drily. "If he were guilty he could not afford to make so damaging a statement." " Oh !" remarked Crate, after a pause, "I suppose you assume that Doolan admitted this unknown per son, and then murdered him ? Eh, Mr. Fanks ?" " I assume nothing of the sort. Doolan would hardly be such a fool as to murder a man and after wards remain in the house with the daina<_rin<? evidence of the dead body. There is one thing, Crate, which I wish to mention.

Just now voti called me ' Fanks.' In conducting this case I desire to be known as an amateur detective, Rixton." "Your real name! Why?" " Because my work will be mostly in the West-end, where I cannot conceal my identity. I do not wish it to be known that I am connected with Scotland Yard. Therefore, when you call on me at Duke Street, or should you meet me while investigating this matter, you can address me as Rixton, and assume the lordly manner you affected towards me before I solved the mystery of the Chinese Jar.' " I thought you had forgiven me for that," said Crate, reddening. " So I have : you now admit that I can do some thing. But as regards my change of name " WHAT MRS. PHORNEY HEARD. 19 " I understand, Mr. Rixton : your secret will be kept by me. But how do you intend to begin, and when?"

" At Garry Street, this instant," said Rixton, putting on his hat. " I have now secured the necessary authority to enable me to act. Good-bye, Crate. Should you wish to know how I succeed, look me up at Duke Street any evening between six and eight. I may require your assistance." " All right, sir," replied Crate, and looked reveren tially after the retiring form of his late enemy. He now idolized Fanks, and was as ready to praise, as for merly he had been to condemn him. " Oh, he'll find out the truth," said Crate, returning to his work ; " he can see through a brick wall, he can. He'll start with the carbuncle clue and end with the assassin. But who the deuce can he be ? I say this Mr. Conway." A great many people, arguing the case on the same grounds, said the same thing ; but Rixton was of the contrary opinion.

He knew Gerald Conway too well to think him capable of so dastardly a crime ; das tardly in the extreme, as the victim, having been stabbed in the back, must have been taken unawares. It was also impossible that Doolan should be guilty, seeing that he remained in the chambers to run the risk of being arrested red-handed. Yet these two men alone had access to the rooms, and alone could have admitted the third. Rixton owned himself puzzled by this feature of the case, yet he held firmly to the innocence of Conway and his servant. As to the identity of the guilty person, he could not even form an opinion. " I mtist find out the name of the dead man," thought Rixton, as he walked to Westminster; "learn his past career, and discover if it was to anybody's in terest that he should be removed. I may then find out why he came to Conway's chambers, and who was with him during the visit.

Firstly, I shall examine the room; secondly, interview Conway in Holloway Goal ; then I shall be in a better position to form a theory." He was not sanguine of the result as he turned into Garry Street, and found himself at Conway's chambers. On entering the general hall of the house, Rixton found his further progress barred by an excited female, armed with a dustpan and a feather brush. An apron was pinned round her grey hair, another kept clean her dress of brown wincey, and over her ample shoulders she had draped a small shawl of Rob Roy tartan. This stout but not uncomely person was Mrs. Phorney, who looked after the chambers, and who had her dwelling in the basement, whence she had that moment emerged with a view to clean out and tidy up the ground-floor rooms. An odour of gin per meated the atmosphere as she advanced, showing that the late catastrophe had demanded frequent appli cations to Geneva.

" No, sir," said Mis. Phorney, blocking the stairs, " you don't go up to get goose-flesh by looking at them rooms if I can help it. There's a chamber of 'orrors at Madame Toosod's if you wants your 'air to rise and your flesh to creep ; but I beg as you won't go lowering the rents 'ere by putting gashley things in the noospapers." WHAT MRS. PHORNEY HEARD. 21 "You don't recognise me, Mrs. Phorney?" The woman bent forward, and then sat down on the lowest step of the stairs, where she flung her apron over her head, and rocked herself to and fro. " I'm that upset, Mr. Rixtons, as I never knowed you," she moaned, from behind the apron. " Excuse me sitting, sir, but my blessed nerves are packthreads at this minute. Ah ! well, I knew what was coming, for last week, when after a supper of sheep's trotters, I dreamed of snakeses ; for snakeses," declared Mrs. Phorney, " is blood and merders."

Rixton was too well acquainted with Mrs. Phorney's eccentricities to object to her behaviour in the present instance. Moreover, knowing her to be garrulous and curious, he thought it possible that he might extract from her some fact likely to throw light on the mystery. To this end he pretended a friendly anxiety to learn the details, and refreshed Mrs. Phor ney's memory with the fee of half-a-crown ; all this purely as a sympathizing acquaintance. " Thank you, sir," said the lady, rising to accept the gift. "It ain't the first as I've had from you, or from 'im, sir — pore, dear, young innocent as is now in a dunging a-clanking of 'is fetters." "Then you think that Mr. Conway is innocent?" " As an unborn hinfant, Mr. Rixtons. I 'eared the Habbey chimes, and then him a-ebmbing the stairs arter twelve."

" Oh, you did ! Were you up at that time ?" " No, sir, I were in bed, and 'ad bin since ten ; but I was wakeful with a bad cold as tickled my throat, and prevented sleepin'. Oh, I 'eard 'im." " How do you know it was Mr. Conway ?" " I 'eard his step on these stoneses, sir," said Mrs. Phorney, tapping the pavement of the hall. " I knows all their steps, Mr. Rixtons. The ground-floor's a 'evy gent as walks bke a' earthquake : the first floorer being gouty tap-taps with 'is stick: but Mr. Conway's a light-'earted gent as runs up the stairs like a young 'un of eighteen. The third-floorer " "Never mind the third floor," said Rixton, inter rupting the flow of Mrs. Phorney's speech. " You are sure that Mr. Conway came in at midnight ?" " With a 'op an' a skip an' a jump, Mr. Rixtons." " Did you hear anyone else come in ?"

Mrs. Phorney looked queerly at Rixton, and bit the top of her feather duster. " Well, I did 'ear a a strange step, sir — I 'eard two of 'em," she said, gravely. " Indeed ! At what time ?" " Both between eleving an' twelve, Mr. Rixtons." " Didn't it occur to you to go upstairs and see who these strangers were?" " Why, no, it didn't," said Mrs. Phorney, rubbing her nose ; " both Mr. Conway an' the second-floorer 'ave people to see 'em. It wasn't none of my business to be pokin' and pryin', let alone a wish not to make my cold wuss. From a warm bed to a cold passage Mr. Rixtons," concluded Mrs. Phorney, shakin« her head, " you wouldn't do it yourself, sir." " If you were in bed, how could you distinguish the steps ?" " My room's imejetly under the 'all door, sir : I can 'ear the oiler ekering of anyone who comes in."

WHAT MRS. PHORNEY HEARD. 23 " You thought, then, that some of the tenants had brought in friends?" " I did, sir ; an' why not ?• — youth is youth, 'owever you puts it. No one could 'ave got in without keyses ; and the four gentlemen who live 'ere 'ave a key each." "A key for the street door, and one for their chambers, I suppose ? " "No, Mr. Rixtons, it's a Yale lock on that street door, sir, and the key as opens it opens the rooms of each ; but," added Mrs. Phorney, with emphasis, " though the keyses fits the front door, all keyses don't fit all locks in the 'ouse. Only Mr. Conway could get into 'is rooms ! " " I know the Yale key," said Rixton, taking note of this information ; " by the way, were the other tenants in on that night ? " " Only Mr. Madrazo, sir ! the foreign gent as bves on the third floor.

The ground is a M.P., and was at the 'Ouse; the first-floorer were visitin' 'is aunt in Briting, an' the second-floorer is, as you know, sfr, pore dear Mr. Conway." " Did Mr. Madrazo hear anything ? " " No, sir ! 'E told the perlice as he didn't." " Did you hear anything, Mrs. Phorney ? " asked Rixton, looking sharply at her. "A scream, a struggle " "Not a scream, not a struggle," protested Mrs. Phorney. "' I should 'ave bin out 'anging on to the nearest perliceman if I'd 'eard the merdering. But, lor bless you, Mr. Rixtons, my ears ain't mikerscopes. I can 'ear who comes in imejetly above my 'ead, but I can't 'ear up to the second floor." " What does Doolan say ? " " Mr. Doolan went to bed at ten and 'eard nothing. You know as 'e's deaf, Mr. Rixtons; a post ain't deafer." It certainly was odd that a murder should have taken place without anyone in the house hearing aught of a struggle.

Doolan on the same floor, Madrazo on the floor above, both denied having heard the slightest noise. Rixton had been assured of this by the pobce, but he was ill-satisfied with both denials, and he resolved to interview the servant and the third floor tenant on his own account. " Is Mr. Madrazo in now ? " he asked Mrs. Phorney. " Well, he might and he mightn't be, sfr," said Airs. Phorney, ambiguously ; " I wouldn't swear to it. He's a pleasant gent, though darkish an' messy in his 'abit of throwing his clothes about." " About these steps you heard," said Rixton, re verting to the subject. " Can you describe them ? " " One was 'ard and sharp and firm-like," said Mrs. Phorney, promptly; "a man's step it was, the other ," here she hesitated. " Well ! " said Rixton, sharply. "I wouldn't tell it to the perbce," sighed Mis.

Phorney, hurriedly ; " but I'll tell you, sir, as you ain't the perbce." " Tell me what ? " demanded Rixton, appreciating the irony of the situation. " About the other step, sir. It was a woman." " A woman ? " "As sure as I am of the sex, sir — it was the lio-ht step of a woman."

Chapter III. Doolan's Statement

Rixton resumed his way upstairs with a sufficiency of matter for reflection. " Mrs. Phorney has compbcated matters," thought Rixton, as he touched the electric button at Conway's door ; " it remains to be seen whether Doolan's ex planation can reduce them to order." It was not Doolan who opened the door, but a young pobceman who had been placed in charge of the chambers. A few words satisfied this guardian that the visitor was empowered to enter, and he conducted Rixton to the library where the murder had taken place. " Thank you," said Rixton, taking a chair ; " now send the servant Doolan in, and hold your tongue on all matters connected with me and with my business. I am a visitor here, nothing more." "Very good, sir," replied the policeman, deferen tially, and forthwith departed to the kitchen, where he was discussing a bottle of beer with Doolan.

Rixton, to whom the room was familiar, let his eyes D travel from desk to bookcases, thence to the paper-rack by the mantelpiece ; finally to the many photographs in silver frames standing before the oval mirror. One of these photographs, representing a charming and pretty girl, he examined with great attention. " Poor Lena Darrel," he murmured, admiring the beautiful face ; " I daresay she is broken-hearted by the arrest of her lover." Further sobloquy on this subject was forbidden, as Doolan entered the room while Rixton was replacing the picture on the mantelshelf. The servant was a young man of medium height, with red hair, blue eyes, and a shrewd, good-natured face of a pecubarly Irish east. He was clean-shaven, with his ruddy locks cut short and carefully sleeked down, and dressed in a suit of black with a blue livery waistcoat; he stood before Rixton with folded hands.

With his head a little on one side to catch the shg-htest sound, a habit induced by his deafness, he looked the picture of a well-trained servant, quiet and deferential. There was something pecubarly likeable about the man, and Rixton knew how highly he was valued by his younc master. "This is a sad business, Doolan," said Rixton, noting the red eyes and haggard looks of the man. "Very sad, sir." "I have called here," pursued Rixton, artfully, " merely as a friend, to see if I can be of any service to Mr. Conway." " Thank you, sir. Have you seen my master, sir ? " " Why, no ; not yet, Doolan ; but it is my intention to call at Holloway shortly ; I wish to help Mr Con- DOOLAN'S STATEMENT. way out of the dangerous position in which he is now placed." " It is very good of you, sir," said the servant, re spectfully ; " but if I may be permitted to speak, sir, you wUl find it difficult."

It may be here observed that although the name and looks of Doolan were eminently Irish, his speech was singularly free from brogue, both in construction of sentences and pronunciation. This may be accounted for by the fact that Mr. Doolan was an Irish-American, and had passed his entire bfe in the States and in South America. Rixton knew this, and also that Doolan, educated by experience and travel, was a smart, clear-headed, intelbgent man, who might be trusted to help his master in the present emergency. He therefore took silent note of the significance of his last remark, and commented thereon after a minute's pause. " Why do you think it wiU be difficult, Doolan?" " If I may speak boldly, sir " " By all means ; speak as openly and freely as you please. TeU me all that you know, and perhaps, with your assistance, I may be able to aid your master more than you imagine."

" Thank you again, sir," said Doolan, bowing. " I hope my master will be acquitted; to accuso him of that murder is a lie, sir — a be. Mr. Conway is too good and kind a gentleman to be a criminal. I owe him everything, Mr. Rixton : when I came here from Lima, sir, I had no friend in London but him, I brought to him a letter, sir, from Mr. Bennett," "His cousin?" "Yes, sir; the gentleman who died at Lima, to whose property he succeeded. I was servant to Mr. Bennett, and before he died he gave me a letter to his cousin. I delivered it to Mr. Conway, who took me into his service. I have been with him for four years, and a kinder gentleman never breathed." "Humph!" said Rixton, looking doubtingly at him. " Your hearing is remarkably good to-day, Doolan." "It is, sir; in fine weather my hearing is always better.

And you speak very clearly, sir. As a schoolmaster, and a deaf man, I appreciate clear speech." " Were you a schoolmaster? " " In the States, sir, before I went to Lima. I was unfortunate, sir, and sank in the world." " Humph ! " said Rixton again, letting his eyes thoughtfully wander over the man's face ; " that accounts for your excellent speech ; but let me hear what you know of this matter," he added, as Doolan bowed for this compliment ; " there is no time to be lost." "I know very little, sir. I retired to bed at ten o'clock, as my master gave me permission to do so, and I was only roused by the bell over my head. I came in here and found Mr. Conway standing yonder looking at the dead body on the floor." " Did Mr. Conway say that he knew the man? " " No, sir ; he never set eyes on him before."

"And you?" "Nor I, sir; the dead man had never visited Mi-. Conway, to my knowledge." DOOLAN'S STATEMENT. 29 " At what hour did Mr. Conway leave the house ? " " At seven o'clock, sir. I called a cab for him." " He was due at the theatre, I believe ? " " At the Curtain Theatre, sir." " The performance at that theatre does not begin till half-past eight. Why did your master leave here so early ? " " I fancy, sir, that he went first to his club. He received a letter by the six o'clock post, and men tioned to me that it was an appointment he would have to keep before going to the theatre." "Was he agitated?" " Very much so, when he received that letter." " Did you see the letter ? " " No, sir ; I did not." " Did Mr. Conway make any remark other than the one about this appointment ? " Doolan hesitated, and looked down as if considering his answer.

" I may as well admit, sir, that Mr. Conway made a very strange remark." "What was that?" " He asked me if I was certain that Mr. Bennett had died in Lima." " Humph. Was that question suggested by the letter?" " I think so, sir ; of course, I told him that I saw Mr. Bennett die." " Oh, you saw him die ? " repeated Rixton, with a sharp glance. " Yes, sir," said Doolan, meeting that inquiring look without flinching; "I was Mr. Bennett's servant, and he died of fever at Lima fouryears ago. Before he died, sir, he gave me a letter to his cousin, Mr. Conway, and that is how I came to be in Mr. Conway's service." Rixton thoughtfully tapped his leg with the bght cane he carried, and reflected on the foregoing observations. He was aware that Conway inherited the Barnleigh estate through the death of his cousin, Horace Bennett, so he could not but connect that strange question with a doubt on the part of Conway that his cousin had died.

Evidently the letter making the appointment at the club had to do with Bennett and his death at Lima, hence the inquiry so pointedly addressed to Doolan. But all this threw no bght on the mystery of the murder, unless . Rixton resolved to abandon this point until he could question Conway himself. At present he could see nothing to link the appointment at the club with the violent death in the Garry Street rooms. In respectful silence Doolan waited further questioning, and after a few minutes' cogitation, Rixton resumed the conversation in another strain. " Have you a key of these chambers, Doolan? " " No, sir ; my master has a dislike to anvone having a key but himself." " Do you not find that rather awkward?" " "Why, no, Mr. Rixton. I do not go out very often, and my master is usuaUy indoors writing."

"Yes, I know that he is devoted to bterary pur suits." " Well, sir," resumed Doolan, quietly, " if rny master is out and I find the door closed on my return DOOLAN'S STATEMENT. 31 I wait downstairs with Mrs. Phorney till he comes back. Mr. Conway is a strange gentleman in some ways, sir," added the man, pointedly, "this is one of them." " Then nobody could have entered here unless ad mitted by Mr. Conway ? " " No, sir ; I don't see how they could." " Did your hear anything on that night ? " " No, sir ; I was in bed and asleep. I heard nothing till roused by Mr. Conway's bell, and then I saw the dead man." " You did not know him ? " " No, sfr." " Mr. Conway did not know him ?" " No, sir." " Did your master expect a lady to supper after the theatre." " I don't think so, Mr. Rixton ; I received no orders to lay out supper.

Miss Darrel and her father have sometimes been here to supper, but no one else." " They were not expected on that especial night? " " Not to my knowledge, sir." Rixton shrugged his shoulders, and finding the conversation unsatisfactory, he rose from his seat and threw himself into the chair before the desk — the chair in which the dead man had sat. Idly he took up a pen, and put it to his lips in a mediative manner. Suddenly his face bghted up, and he placed the pen to his nostrils ; then, bending down, he nosed the blotting-pad. " Does your master use any special kind of scent ? " he asked, sharply. "No, sir," repbed Doolan, very much astonished. " He uses no scent at all ; in fact, sir, he dislikes aU perfumes." The most powerful of all aids to memory is the sense of smell. Sardou knew this, and used it in " Dora " for the purpose of unmasking the adventuress Zicka.

Rixton thought of that scene the moment he smelt the faint odour which clung to pen and blotting pad. At one bound his memory ran back to the last occasion when he had breathed the perfume. A fashionable "At Home," a chattering crowd, a secluded corner, a woman, and — that odour. " Good heavens ! " he muttered, rising to his feet ; " what was she doing here on that night ? " Who the " she " was he did not explain.

Chapter IV. The Man Feom Lima

Shortly after the discovery — and it was one which astonished him not a little — Rixton left Conway's chambers, and paused on the stairs to consider his next move. He greatly desired to call on Madrazo to ascertain if he had heard any suspicious noise on the night of the murder ; but he hardly knew how to introduce himself to this foreign individual. It would be necessary to make some excuse for calling, and in his character of detective, Rixton would have had a sufficient pretext for doing so ; but to appear simply as a sympathising friend, looked like forcing his acquaintance on the man. .While in this dilemma, Fate settled the matter off-hand. Madrazo descended the stairs, and, seeing Rixton on the landing, before the door of Conway's chambers, he took off his hat with the natural courtesy of a foreigner.

He was a tall, sallow man, with a thin, black moustache and a pair of piercing black eyes. Carefully and quietly dressed, he looked a gentleman in easy circumstances, but there was the indefinite E air about him which, to Rixton's experienced eye, suggested the scamp and adventurer. " Can I give my service to you, sir ? " he asked, taking a comprehensive view of Rixton. " I am afraid you will not be able to enter the rooms of Mr. Conway. You heard of the murder ? " " Yes, I am a friend of Mr. Conway's," repbed Rixton, seizing the opportunity, " and I came to see him if I could." " Alas ! sir, he is in the prison, and the pobce are with him." " Ah ! " said Rixton, feigning ignorance, " in that case I may as well postpone my visit. But I am anxious to know about the crime, and perhaps, as you bve here, sfr, you may be able to tell me something."

Madrazo flashed an interrogative look on Rixton, but seeing nothing likely to cause distrust, he re placed his hat with a shrug, and spread out his hands with feigned regret. The racial difference between the two men was emphasized by that gesture. " I know nothing — nothing. I was in bed and asleep. The pobce asked — oh, yes, they have asked ; but what? I know nothing. Truly, sir, this is a mystery. You are a friend of Mr. Conway's ? " asked Madrazo, as they turned and descended the stairs by mutual consent. "Yes, my name is Rixton; here is my card Octavius Rixton." "Manuel Madrazo, at your service, sir," said the Spaniard, returning the compliment. " My card sir. All I have is to you, Mr. Rixton." " You come from Spain, Senor Madrazo P" THE MAN FROM LIMA. 35 " No, sir ; I come from Peru — from Lima.