THE WRONG ROAD

Evening Star, Issue 7449, 18 February 1888, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE WRONG ROAD

ISY HOOK OR CROOK.

]’>v Ma.i, k Akthcr Griffiths, Author of 1 Fast ani> I.oosk,’ ‘Lockup Ui’,’ Etc. | (AH Uh,jhts Itrxtrnil.) VOL, 1.-CHAPTER XIV. iththkr iNciriuv. it was a case of wilful murder. No one in Thnrpeshire had a doubt of that. Sir Carysfort Lezaire had been murdered, poisoned wickedly and secretly in his own home, by some person or persons unknown. The news spread through the county quickly, creating immense excitement. Who had done it and why ? This was the question that everyone asked, ana everyone wanted to solve. There must be an inquiry, everyone was agreed. i But what was everybody’s was nobody a business. The davs slipped by, yet nothing was done. At " length several of the magnates and leading magistrates put then heads together, and it was decided, alto consultation with the chief constable, to employ the police, the details being loft to the chief. Lady Lezaire iiad been much more prompt. The moment her lirst paroxysm of grief had subsided, she had communicated with Mr Tinson, of Lincoln's Inn Fields. The presence of the family lawyer was indeed necessaiy at Straddlethorpe to regulate the affairs of the succession, and it was only right that lie should attend the young baronet's funeral. Mr Tinson’a first visit on arrival was to Lady Lezaire, with whom he was closeted for more than an hour. Thence he went to his own room, where a message was brought to him that Colonel St. Evelyn would like to speak to him at once. The Colonel received him in his study. “ It is only by accident, Mr Tinson, that I have learnt your presence here,” he said, rather stillly, to the lawyer, as he motioned him to a seat ; “ you might, I think “ Lady Lezaire sent for me, and naturally I went straight to her,” interrupted Mr Tinson. “That was right enough. You arc, I suppose, her legal adviser, while you are not necessarily miue, or rather my wife’s.” Mr Tinson instantly became more civil. “I should, of course, have come to pay, my respects, Colonel St. Evelyn, and to take any instructions.” The lawyer knew that Colonel St. Evelyn, through his wife, was now the master of Straddlethorpe, and he had no desire to lose the legal business of so line a property. “I have no instructions. It would he indecent to talk about business so soon. 1 , was only complaining of the want of j courtesy you have displayed in not coming I to see me.” i “Nothing of the kind was intended, Ij assure you. Lady Lezaire had much to . say to me, so I went to her first.” j “ How she hates mo, that woman ! ’’cried : St. Evelyn, emphatically ; “ I can’t for the life of mo think why.” | Mr Tinson looked at him curiously. _ i “Lady Lezaire was wrapped up in her son.” “ Well, is not Rachel, my wife, her ■ daughter ? We are both of us ready to devote ourselves to Lady Lezaire—to make , up to her somehow for the grievous Mss she has sustained. But she. keeps Rachel at a distance, and won’t see me at all.’ j “ So I understand.” i “ Did she tell you so?” _ 1 “I think, if you will permit me, I will not repeat anything that occurred at my interview with Lady Lezaire. She is my client, as you say, and lawyers, like doctors, are hound to be silent.” “ It is quite impossible, if this continues, that we should go on living together. \\ e can hardly remain under the same roof.” “ Do you mean that yon wish to leave Straddlethorpe?” “Is it our place to leave ? To whom dots Straddlethorpe now belong ? ” i “ I bad forgotten.” said the lawyer, btwic!;: “fori could not bring myself to believe that Mrs St. Evelyn wished to turn her mother out of doors.” “ Nor does Hit—yet. Fur the present wo are coing away. It would be most painful to remain here unucr the circumstances.’ “ 'That I can quite believe,” observed Mr Tbir-on, drilv. “After this terrible heart-breaking accident.” went on Colonel St, Evelyn. “ Accident! ” cried Air Tinson, in evident rurpiise at the expression, “ Certainly accident. 1 have no doubt in my own mind that poor (arysfort met his death through some shocking imprudence. He was "always miming wild about the country of course I have much reluctance in saying this of the poor dear hoy —hut it is the truth. Ile was here, there, and everywhere with his friend Hubert I'odifat, and he must have picked up, somewhere or other, the stulf that proved fatal to him.” “But unless I am mistaken,” protested Mr Tinson, “the verdict of the inquest, hacked up as it was by the clearest medical evidence, declared that he had been poisoned by arsenic. Now arsenic, you must admit, is not to lie picked up anywhere. You would not find it easy, Colonel, to buy arsenic.” , j “1! why should I buy arsenic ? ! The two men looked fixedly at cacn other. But Colonel St. Evelyn’s eyes did not quail before M r Tinson’s piercing gaze. j “ But I am not so fully convinced, as yon appear to bo. that arsenic was the cause of, death.” j “ You can’t get over the verdict, and Sir j Peregrine Falcon’s opinion. It s the highest j in the medical profession.” “ Pshaw ! doctors have been wrong before now, and Falcon admitted that the quantity of poisonous matter discovered in the intestines was extremely small. No ; I shall not be easily persuaded that there was foul play. Something more tangible must be elicited, and I do not see at present how it is to be obtained.” There was an accent of interrogations his speech, so Mr Tinson thought, which put the suspicious lawyer on his guard._ “ Do you propose to institute an inquiry?” was Ins evasive reply. “I do not sec the least necessity for it. Does Lady Lezaire ? ” “The subject is far too delicate to be touched on at present with her ladyship. At least 1 should not like to mention it to her. Perhaps she will broach the subject to you.” “ I tell you she will not see or speak to me. But if she wants to do so, it must be soon.” “ You think of leaving the Hall, you say ? ” “ Yes. Directly after the luneral we shall start for the seaside for two or three months. After that, we shall return to establish ourselves here, and I take this opportunity of informing you that we hope to have the Hall to ourselves.” “ Is that intended as a message for me to convey to Lady Lezaire ? ” “It is. She is a client of yours, as you say, and as she chooses to have no communication with me direct, I cannot do better than speak to her through you.” “ When do you wish me to tell her this ?” “ Oh, not immediately, of course. You had better wait a few days, till after the funeral, or until we arc out of the place. Thank you ; that is all I have to say to you, Mr Tinson. Business, as I told you, will keep.” And the Colonel showed Mr Tinson tiie door. Sir Carysfort’a funeral was very largely attended. Everyone of position in the county came in person or sent his carriage. All the servants at the Hall, Hubert I’odifat, most of the tenants on the estate, and many of the tradesmen from Market Reepham, followed. Colonel St Evelyn represented the family as chief mourner, much against Lady Lezaire’s wish—indeed in spite of her. But there were no relatives, near or far; the baronetcy was now extinct, and but for the son-in-law the Straddlethorpe carriage would have been empty, _ A solemn and decorous gravity, as became the occasion, sat upon the face of the man who was really heir to the deceased. But there were no symptoms of very keen sorrow, and his demeanor was cold and repel ent to the few who approached him in the churchyard and after the ceremony with expressions of sympathy. They were few, these friends and he might see for himself, if he looked round at this great county gathering, that public opinion was against him.

Within a day or two the St. Evelyns left the Hall. It was then that loeal gossip, ted by vague but increasing suspicion, took more practical shape. The Colonel s hasty departure was exaggerated into disgraceful flight; and it w'as decided, as has been said, to make further inquiry into the circumstances of .Sir Carysfort’s death.

CHAPTER XV. Till: rol.H’l! AT WORK. On the same day that the St Evelyns left, Mr Tinson drove over to Market Reepham in a fly ordered from the town, to meet the afternoon express from London. Ho was waiting on the platform when it disgorged its half-dozen passengers, and he seemed to have no difficulty in recognising the person he wanted amongst the number. “Ah, it’s you, Faske ! I’m glad they’ve sent you down,” was his greeting of a thickset, quietly-dressed man, with sharp eyes and a determined face. “ Well, as you mentioned my name, Mr Tinson, they could do no less at the Yard,” replied the other, rocking his head slightly, as though to balance a rather too looselyfitting hat on the top of it ; “ but 1 shan’t be able to stop in these parts long.” Mr Tinson’a face fell. “ You see we’re so busy just now. Them Irish are giving no end of trouble, and I’m in that Clerkcnwell job. But surely you’ve got some of the locals at work ? ” ‘•The chief constable has been told by the Justice to pick out a young fellow to take charge of the case, and I’ve just seen him. But nothing has been done yet.” “ Wnat like is ho? Where is he ? Young, you say ? Any gumption ? I don’t care much for hoys with short police experience. They’re so cocky—had no failures, you see, and think they can teach ns old hands their work. But whore is this young chap? We’d better have a confab without more loss of time.” “He’s at the police-station waiting. Shall we go round ? ” In a few minutes more they had been introduced by the chief constable to a young man—he looked like a young gentleman— of pleasant address and excellent maimers. Alfred Earswick, as he was called, had studied medicine, and had taken his diploma, but he had not fallen on his feet as regards practice. After a hard struggle for existence, he had turned his back on his profession and joined the police. He had entered as a common constable, just to get bread, but he had hopes that his superior education aud general aptitude might some day give him advancement in county or borough police. In appearance Earswick was tall, and rather awkwardly put together ._ He had a small head for his height, with straight, sandy, reddish hair, which he parted in the middle, and wore rather long. Under pale straw-colored eyebrows were a pair of small but piercing and very mobile grey eyes He had a slight moustache of the prevailing tone of his hair, but lighter, aud a very large mouth plentifully stocked with brilliant white teeth, which he showed a f'ood deal. No one would call him handsome, yet he was not exactly plain, and his face lighted up pleasantly when he talked. “ Yon are already well up in the case ? ” asked the chief constable of the Loudon detective. “So far as it has been published—nothing more. Is there anything to tell? Have you come upon any new facts ? ” Tiie latter part of this speech was addressed to the young local detective. “ I have only to-day been instructed to act. I am still quite in the dark as to tiie whole affair,” answered Earswick. “ You’ve read the report of the inquest, I supnose ? ” said Mr Faske rather contemptuously. “No; I cannot s.ay that I have. But that won’t take long. I think you have it, sir,” he said, addressing the chief constable. While the young man read his brief, Mr Faske nursed his left leg and consulted his shoe-string, as his custom was. “ The first thing in all these eases, according to my idea,” lie said at length, witn the air of a man who had reason to lie proud of his ideas, “ is to look about and consider who is likely to be most benefited by the crime, if crime there has been.” “ As to that there is not the slightest mystery. Sir Carysfort Lezaire’s death benefited one person considerably,” said Mr Tinson promptly, “ Yes ? To whom do the estates go ? ” “To the sister, Mrs St. Evelyn.” “His sister!” A shade of disappointment crossed Mr Faske’s face. “It is hardly likely that Air could have committed the crime.” “ Certainly not. No one would think of accusing her—a sweet woman, a little weak, perhaps, hut no other fault. It is her weakness that brings her so completely under her husband’s subjection.” “ Her husband is living, then ? ” “ Very much so.” “ What sort of a character does lie bear ? Does he live in these parts ? Who and what is he ? ” “ I cannot answer all those questions at once,” said Mr Tinson with some hesitation, and looking at the chief constable to help him, “Captain Bracebridge here has known him—Colonel St. Evelyn, 1 mean—nearly as long as I have.” “ I ? Oli, don’t ask me ! I nave nothing to say against Colonel St. Evelyn,” protested the chief constable with evident reluctance. “ Hang it all I ” cried Faske ; “ why this beating about the bush ? I must know all you know ” “ We hioir nothing,” said both almost in a breath. “ Well, all you think. You must make a clean breast of it always to the police as you would to a doctor. Come.” “ For my part I am possessed of only the vaguest suspicions. But I wish to keep nothing from yon—don’t imagine that.” And Air Tinson told the detective everything he knew about St. Evelyn and the Lezaircs. He began with the Colonel’s appointment as guardian ; went on to the marriage; then described the stay at the Hall, and the Colonel’s behaviour there ; his masterful arbitrary ways ; the quarrels with the young baronet, and the hatred engendered. Last of all, he recounted the closing scenes of the poor lad’s short life. “ You say tiie Colonel made light of the lost illness?” ‘ ‘ Distinctly. He laughed at the necessity for calling in a doctor; he opposed Lady Lezaire’s sending to London for Falcon ; when Falcon came, St. Evelyn kept him as long as possible from the bedside.” “Had the Colonel access to the sickroom ? ” “ Continually.” “ Alone ? ” “ There is nothing to show that, but it is highly probable.” “ Other people went into the sick-room, of course ? ” “Naturally. But why suspect any of them ? The mother and sister ; the housekeeper, a neutral person ; a young fellow, the baronet’s most devoted friend— were they likely to do the deed ? Why should they ?” . , , i “ Mrs St. Evelyn might, under her husband’s compulsion.” “Impossible. You would say so if you knew her.” “ And the others—of course I exclude the mother —had no interest in the baronet s death ? ” , “The only people who benefited hy it were the St. Evelyns.” Mr Faske was silent for a time. “ Then you believe the Colonel administered the poison ? ” he said suddenly to Mr Tinson. “ 1 never said so,” replied the lawyer quickly. “ No; but you plainly implied your belief. Do not bo afraid of sticking to it. Frankly—l quite agree with you.” “I knew you would,”cried Mr Tinson, delighted. “But you have no proof —not the slightest proof,” interposed the chief constable. “ For that we must depend upon our young friend here, ” said Faske patronisingly, as he put his hand upon Earswick’s shoulder. “We must send him into the enemy’s camp.” “ To the Hall ?” asked Earswick. “Certainly. Are you afraid? The Colonel won’t eat you. Besides ’’ “The Colonel’s not there—ho left this morning.” “ Gone ? Abroad ? Yes Do you mean

to tell me you Thorpeshirc police have let him slip through your fingers like that?” “ He has only gone to France.” “France! Pshaw I There’s extradition with France. You’ll hear of him next in .Sweden nr in Spain somewhere beyond the reach of a warrant. Yah ! Fancy that! ” It is impossible to express tiie London detective’s disgust. He promptly gave up nursing his leg, and jumping to his feet strode up and down the room. “ To bolt would be to give up all profit from the murder. Would he do that, do you think, and while he still believes there is no evidence against him ? ” suggested the chief constable. “ There’s something in that," said Faske, becoming more calm. “ Whether or not, the mystery ought to he unravelled,” put in Earswick, who was all eagerness to got to work. “The proofs should be forthcoming, the case prepared. Fearing nothing, he will no doubt return one of these fine days, and then ” “ You’re right, young man, must proceed with the inquiry, so far as it will go—at least you must, Mr Earswick, So prepare to take up your quarters at the Hall.” “Shall! go openly?” asked the young police oliicer. “ Are you known there ? ” “ I don’t think so. But some of the servants may have seen me in the town here at Sessions’ time.” “It will he hotter to remain hicoij. You will be freer, and may get your information easier,” said Faske. “ How shall I disguise myself ? ” “ What will be best, Mr Tinson ? Can’t we get him in without exciting suspicion ?” “He could go as my clerk,” replied the lawyer. “The change of ownership must lead to lots of work—taking inventories, sorting papers, and so forth. It would be quite natural for me or one of my people to be constantly at the Hall.” “ Of course Lady Lezaire would have to know,” suggested the chief constable, “ Is she safe ? ” asked Faske anxiously. “As any of us. Lady Lezaire will only too gladly help the law._ She would he truly rejoiced, I feel sure, if the real murderer met with his deserts,” “ Can you make up like a lawyer’s clerk, Mr Earswick ? ” was Faske’s next question. “Why not? Wait half an hour, and tell me if yon know mo, or would take me for anyone else.” The man who by-and-bye returned to the police office bore no resemblance to the young detective. He was a lantern-jawed, lank-haired, middle-aged man, dressed untidily in rustic black, with a wisp of white neckcloth and crumpled linen. His hair, his eyebrows, and his moustache were dyed and a pair of steel-rimmed spectacles hid tire brightness of his inquisitive eyes. “That will do first-rate,” said Faske, approvingly. “You’re not a clerk to he proud of,” added Mr Tinson with a laugh. “ But I’ve seen fellows like you. Come along. I’ll oive you a blue hag and some bundles of papers, and we ll drive straight to the Hall.” “Stay!” said the chief constable to his subordinate. “How are we to communicate ? ” “By post. There is a letter-box just at the Lodge gates,” said the lawyer. “Remember you must post everything yourself, and he careful. Cautious and cunning, that’s yonr motto, But use both your eyes and your ears.” This was Faske’s parting advice as the detective followed Mr Tinson into the tty. (7h hr nn/Hiiuril.)