The Moseley Mystery,

Northland Age, Volume 2, Issue 49, 10 July 1906, Page 7

The Moseley Mystery,

By John K. Leys, '£•}

AS TOLD BY A LADY EX-DETECTIVE.

Author of "Park Doings," "Th# Black Terror," "The l.'indsnys," “ihe Sign of the Golden Horn," k.^c, PART 10. CHAPTER XXVII. THE TRAIL IS LOST. ik \ Lister left London on Wednesday evening. We did not expect to hear from him till Friday morning ; hut we were rather surprised that when the postman came on that day he brought us no news from Ireland. We were still more surprised, however. when about ten o’clock in the forenoon, Mr. Lister himself made his appearance. He looked travelstained and haggard, and I saw in his face, before he opened his lips that he brought no tidings of my “I had better tell you in a word.’’ ho said, “I have failed. 1 have not been able to find any trace of your sister beyond Euston-squaro. One thing I have ascertained—that she did not cross the Channel. Fortunately the boat which left Holyhead on that evening in question was lying there when I reached the pier. I questioned the stewardess thoroughly She seemed a most trustworthy person. She had no remembrance whatever of a girl of fourteen travelling with a stout wevnan as her companion under the guardianship of a single gentleman. And she added there are so few lady passengers at this time of the year that she must have remembered her if she had crossed to Kingstown under her “Have you any idea, then, even the vaguest, where they can have gone ?" I asked, trying to keep the despair I felt from appearing in my “I confess that I have not,” Mr, Lister answered, gloomily. “On my way back to town I made very particular inquiries at the various stations along the line—Chester, Crewe. Rugby, and so y on—but it was all in vain. They must have left tho route somewhere. Guards and porters see so many passengers, that it seems quite hopeless, and even foolish, to expect them to remember a group of people, and that a by no means unusual one, ten or twelve days later." I sighed, and leaned my head on “There is one hope left to us, however," he said, "we can advertise. It is possible that the scoundrel is waiting for an advertisement to appear, in order that ho may communicate with us. Or, it is possible that your sister may seo the announcement herself, and have her suspicions aroused by it. Or, again, some stranger may see the announcement. and connect it with something he may have observed ; and that may lead to the clue which we want." “It .seems rather a poor chance," said I, with a sad smile. “I am afraid it is the only one I :an suggest," said my friend ; “but f ought to tell you this. Before I left London I put the police in possession of all the facts of the case, so far as the abduction of your sister is concerned. I thought that was clearly my duty ; but, as I expected. th»y have done nothing. I do not blame them, for they had very little to go upon—less, even, than we ourselves. Ilowevef, I thought it better to put the matter into their hards, so that you might, at least, have the poor satisfaction of knowing that nothing we could think of was left undone." Here Lady Farrell, who was sitting near by, interrupted the speaker I was glad to hear tho sound of her voice. Any suggestion, however useless and crude it might seem, was welcome at such a time. “Don’t the police keep photographs of bad characters ?’’ she asked. “I believe they do,” said Mr. Lister. “Then wouldn’t it be rather a good thing A.o ask one of the ladies who keep the school to go and look over the photographs of these criminals? She may recognise the man who pretended to b? a lawyer. And, if you go with her. Miss Ilambley, you might possibly sec the portrait of Mr. Gibbon. If you did, the police, knowing these men, might be able to trace them for you, or nt least, have some idea where to look for thorn." “A capital idea !" cried Mr. Lister starting to his feet. Mis*. Ilambley, would you mind putting on your hat and we will call on Miss Duncombe at once? There can’t be a doubt that the police will allow her to look over their albums as she has seen one who is ‘wanted ’ for this ofTence. And you, ns her companion will be able to see the photographs as well, it is just possible that you may light upon Gibbon’s likeness. But before you go tell me, Lady Far“He is really getting better, I think," was the answer, “and Dr. Fraser holds out hopes that he may ultimately recover a great part of his strength. He' can talk a little now ; but I have taken care not to risk exciting him hy putting any questions to him, either about Miss Troup or anything else. No doubt he is under the belief that his illness was quite natural ; and I am not sure if ho recovers, it would not be better to let him continue to think . . . M >e shock of finding t-hat the worn. .. he loved had attempted to take his life would be dreadful ; and if we can

simply frighten Miss Troup away, nod leave him to think that she has

Voluntarily abandoned him, it might be best. But for the present, we

mrnr-nw W-nma to tuinifSrtib not let. me detain you another minute." Mr. Listei' and I drove to St. John's Wood ; and as only one of the two Miss Buncombe’s could leave the school at that hour, 1 asked Miss Martha to come with us. I fancied that she was more observant and more quick-witted than her sister.

From ITolmwood House wo went straight to Scotland Yard ; and as soon as we made known our errand to the authorities we obtained permission to inspect an immense number of photographs. My eyes soon grew tired of looking at them. I was astonished at the variety of faces shown to me. Some were scowling, heavy-browed, ruffianly ; some were grinning in the hope of defeating tho aim of the photographer, and rendering recognition impossible ; a few wore a pensive and injured look ; and one or two gave evidence of culture, and even of intellectual strength. Of course, they represented men of all ages and I almost might say, of all ranks and classes in life. All these were portraits of men ; and I could imagine from the few sheets of phot ogre phs of female prisoners that we saw, that the same might bo said of them My eyes l>ecame so tired of scanning those likenesses that they soon became positively painful, and I had to rest them occasionally. Miss Martha Duncombe, however, -perched on a high stool, and havwig her eyes guarded by thick, blue spectacles, seemed not to know what the word fatigue meant. She plodded on through hundreds of photograph?, till, at last, without a word, but with a triumphant gleam in her eyes she pounced down her loan forefinger on one of tho faces before her. “That’s him !" she said, when we had gathered round her. She still kept her finger on the portrait, as if she were afraid the minute she took it off the photograph would vanish. When she removed it we saw the face

of a good-looking, intelligent young man, somewhere about thirty years of age, not distinguishable in appearance Xrom any one of a thousand London clerks.

When wc pointed out the portrait to the inspector in charge, he referred to a number inscribed on it, and turned up a corresponding number in an enormous volume like a ledger.

“Here he is,’’ he said, with his eyes fixed on the page before him.

“Eustace Howard ; that’s his true name—at least, that’s what he called himself before his first offence. Said first offence was embezzling a cheque for thirty-five pounds—sentence, six months. Second, being concerned in robbing a brewerytwelve months. Tbiid. forging a cheque, only a small sum though,— seven pound ten—and let of! with nine months. Came out of prison just two months ago. The very man I should s> ay, to do the job you report, ladies."

So saying tho inspector shut up his huge record with a bang.

“And have you any idea where that man is likely to be found ?" inquired Mr. Lister.

The inspector shook his head. “Not being subject to police supervision, and not being, as I may say, d regular criminal—that is, known by head mark to the detectives—we have very little chance of finding him But I’ll send round his picture so the different police stations, and some of the men might light on him. If I might give you a piece of advice, I would say, offer a moderate reward for news of him. It does make the men a bit more watchful, when they know there’s a five-pound note waiting for them if they spot a criminal that’s wanted."

Mr. Lister laughed. “It is only natural that it should be so," he said. “By all moans let it be known that ten pounds will be paid to the constable who apprehends this man Curtis, or Howard."

And having arranged that we should have the earliest news of any incident that seemed to offer a chance of tracing him, we left the police-office.

We had not forgotten the suggestion that we should advertise, faint as the hope was that anything would come of it ; and, thanks to Lady Farroll’s generosity, we advertised largely, both in the London and in the country newspapers. A few of these notices were meant to attract, the attention of Nora herself ; while others were meant to arouse tho suspicions of servants, lodging-house keepers, and people who might be living in the same house with Mr. Gibbon, or near him. Some of these advertisements being worded in rather too vague a way, produced shoals of replies, which gave us endless trouble. Whenever we ventured to insert a word or two which made the announcement more precise and certain, it remained without an answer. The insertion of these notices led to no good result. We might as well have saved Lady Farrell’s purse and our own time and labour. CHAPTER XXVIII. MY NEW IDEA. Several days passed, and not a ray of hope lit up our horizon. Nora was as much lost to me as if she had been transported into the wilds of central China. One afternoon, while I was brooding, as I often did, over the incidents that had occurred before that fatal twentieth of October, a circumstance occurred to my mind, which, the longer I pondered it, seemed the more worthy of my attention. I argued in this way. It was plain that if Mr. Gibbon was (as I had no doubt he was) tho man who had committed this outrage, no circumstance connected with him ought to be left uninvestigated ; ami I was not at all satisfied that I had got to the bottom of the connection between him and Miss Troup. The theory I had built up fitted some of the facts, but it did not account for all of them.

Why should Harvey Gibbon go out of his way to commit a murder, or help Miss Troup commit one ? Not out of love for her, I felt pretty certain. I had settled in my own mind, oven before the prbofs wote known to me, that Miss Troup had had a hand in the attempt on Frank Moseley’s life, because she stood in

Hanger from him. But Harvey Gibbon was in no such danger. I had gathered from the conversations between him and Miss Troup that te had had no share in the robbery that Miss Troup and her confederate Barton had committed on Lady Farrell. Why should he run the ripk of aiding Miss Troup to take Frank Moseley’s life ?

Another question of exactly the same kind suggested itself to me. Why should Harvey Gibbon incur the risk and expense of carrying off my sister Nora ? If it had been Miss Troup who had done it, I could understand that she had wished to divert my attention from herself and her doings ; though certainly it would have been at the best a very roundabout method of saving herself. But it was not Miss Troup who had stolen Nora away. Had Gibbon done it then, for the sake" of securing Miss Troup’s safety? Impossible ! I was convinced that the man was a heartless impostor, who had used Miss Troup as his tool and had hoped to make use of me in the same way. But if he had not committed the crime of abducting Nora to secure Miss Troup’s safety, neither had he done it to secure his own, for he had no reason to think that he was suspected of having anything to do with poisoning Frank Moseley—unless, indeed, he had seen me on that night when I had overheard him and Miss Troup talking in the summer-house ! But I came to the conclusion that if ho had seen me on that occasion he would never have rested satisfied with attacking me through Nora. He would either have fled in terror at once, or would have concocted some plot against me personally. To pause in his flight to commit a crime that would cause me pain, indeed, but would not in any way profit him was inexplicable conduct. And yet the description given by the Boots at the hotel, and the railway porter at Euston-square, were so precise, that I had no real doubt that Gibbon was the guilty man. My object was to discover the reason for the crime, in the hope of hitting upon some idea which would help me to discover his hiding-place; and the fresh thought that occurred to me was this :

I had connected Miss Troup with the attempt ou Frank Moseley's life for this reason, that the attack was

committed on the evening of the very daj r on which Miss Troup had discovered danger threatening her through Mr. Moseley. But on that same day something else had happened—Mr. Gibbon had met Frank Moseley face to face !; ‘lt was on the stairs of a lawyer’s office, where Frank had gone in consequence of some unexplained advertisement that Mr. Moseley had seen Harvey Gibbon I remembered that poor Frank had told us about it during dinner on the very night that his life had been attempted. I had before suspected that Gibbon had looked forward to having some dealings with Frank, on account of the anger and annoyance he had shown on learning from Miss Troup that she had told Frank an untruth about his name. What if Frank all unknown to himself had constituted a danger to Harvey Gibbon ? What if Gibbon found that Lady Farrell’s nephew stood in his way ? That would account for his willingness to help Miss Troup to murder him in cold blood.

And that, too, might account for his carrying off Nora. For I was firmly convinced of this, that whatever would explain the attempted murder would explain the later crime. The one, I had no doubt, whatever, was the consequence of the other. Gibbon and Frank had encountered one another on a staircase leading to a lawj'er’s office. If we could find the lawyer, he might be able to tell us something about Harvey Gibbon.

I was impatient until I should sec Mr. Lister and confide in him my new idea ; but I did not like to summon him to Cumberland-square after all tho trouble ho had given himself on my account ; and still less did I like the idea of going to his Chambers in the Temple. At length, however, my patience was rewarded. Mr. Lister called one evening after dinner—which was he said, the best, and indeed the only tolerable part of the day in which a call could be paid—and I found an opportunity of speaking to him alone In a few words I told him what I had been thinking, and suggested that we should try and reach Gibbon through the lawyer. “A first-rate idea !" cried my companion. “Why did we not think of it before ?"

“It made very little impression on me at the time," I answered.

“It was a very odd thing that Mr. Moseley should have been advertised for in that way," said Mr. Lister, ruminating as he spoke. “Very odd! What did the lawyer want with him? What had he to say to him ? What was the reason that Moseley was advertised for ?"

“Mr. Moseley did not (as far as I remember) speak very clearly on these points," I replied. ‘ f My impression is that ho said the interview was broken off by the lawyer saying he was not the person wanted or that if he turned out to be the person wanted he would receive some communication from him—or something to that effect." “It is queer. I shall make it my business to see that lawyer at once. What is his name ?" “Mr. Moseley did not mention it." “But he is well enough tio tell us how."

“Yes ; but it is not necessary to disturb his mind by questioning him on the subject,” said I. “There is a much better way of getting what we want. We know the very day of Mr. Moseley’s illness ; and we know that very day the advertisement caught his eyo. We have only to search the newspapers of that day's date to find the solicitor's name and address." t “Very true. I'll have the address by eleven to-morrow. Should you like to go to the lawyer’s office with me?" he added. “Vefy much indeed !" I cried. “That is settled then-*-supposing always that Lady Farrell has no objection," said Mr. Lister, with .a.

smale ; ahei we arranged to meet at the fountain in the Temple the next day at twelve o'clock. That night, somehow, I could not sleep. I had a presentiment that the morrow would bring us, if not a solution of the mystery, at least an important clue, by which it might be solved. I felt more hopeful than I had .yet been able to do, though I had hardly *any foundation in reason for my feelings. In the morning something prompted me to change my mind as to putting one or two questions to Frank Moseley concerning the lawyer whom we were about to visit. I reasoned that his illness was not of such a .nature that ho could be much injured, if injured at all, by a little excitement, or by having his curiosity aroused, yet left for the present, ungratified ; while on the other hand, a word from him might be of immense importance to us. I therefore begged Lady Farrell to allow me to accompany her on her morning visit to her nephew,

We found him sitting up in bed, looking over the newspaper, which was propped up before him as he was not yet able to hold it for himseltj-. lie greeted us with a smile, and said, “Good morning," though in a voice that was to me hardly intelligible, I let Lady Farrell talk to him for some minutes ; and when my turn came I bent forward, and said, without any preface : “You remember meeting Miss Troup's cousin on your birthday ?" He looked intensely surprised, but shut his eyes to signify that he recollected the circumstance.

“Do you think he was going to see the same man whom you had just left—the lawyer, 1 mean ?" Again the look of surprise, and again Frank Moseley made the gesture which served him for a nod of assent.

“You feel sure of that ?" The movement was repeated more emphatically. Already there was something gained ! My suspicion had become a certainty. “Did Miss Troup’s cousin speak to you ?"- Frank Moseley feebly shook his head. “Did ho look as though he knew you ?" A look which I knew meant doubt came over his face ; but finally he shut his eyes as he had done at first “Have you heard from the lawyer since that day ?" • This time the answer was vocal—“No !" “He seemed to think you were not the man he wanted, if I remember what you said ?" He said something which I could not catch ; and then seeing that I looked puzzled, he answered with his eyelids—“ Yes." “What sort of a person was this The poor fellow tried hard to speak intelligibly ; and at last the nurse putting her ear to his mouth, said, with a smile on her face, “I think he says, ‘Queer fish.’ " A pleased look on Frank Moseley's face told me that she had caught his words. “I hope you are done with your questions," said Lady Farrell to me. “Only one more, pleuse. Did the lawyer seem to you to be a man to be trusted ?"

A clearly spoken ‘No,’ was the ariswer to this.

Lady Farrell, fearing that the excitement would injure her nephew, prevented me from saying a word more. But it was drawing near the hour when I had to meet Mr. Lister. I left the house, called a cab, and drove straight to tho Temple. CHAPTER XXIX. IN MR. HUMPHREY’S OFFICE. The little court which surrounds the fountain in the Temple Gardens is a pleasant place in spring- and summer, but in the month of November it is dreary enough. I was heartily glad, when I had paced once or twice up and down the court, to see Mr. Lister’s bright face. “How can 1 apologise enough for not being first on the spot ?” he said as we shook hands. “I have only been hero a minute, I assure you," I replied.

“I was detained,” he said, “waiting to see a man who was said to know this lawyer, this Mr. Humphrey—for I found that was his name. My friend tells me that Humphrey has the reputation of being a remarkably sharp-witted, and not over-scrupulous person. He seemed to think that our chance of getting any information out of. him was remarkably small, unless in some way we made Mr. Humphrey see that it was to his interest to speak. So I have thought it would be a good plan to consult him in a regular professional -way. My friend gave me leave to use his name, so that it will serve as an introduction, if necessary." “1 will be guided by you entirely," I said, after a moment’s reflection. We then left the Temple and drove into the City. Mr. Humphrey's office was very small and dingy. One could not gather from the surroundings that very mu«h business of any kind was transacted there. Never in all my life have I seen a human face so full of wrinkles as Mr Daniel Humphrey's. It was exactly as if he had had some disease which lei t wrinkles behind it, as small-pox leaves pock-marks. When we had bowed and taken our seats, Mr. Lister began by mentioning the name of his friend (which was received graciously by the old lawyer), and went on to say that he wished to consult Mr. Humphrey professionally about a very delicate and difficult matter. He then went on to give the lawyer a short account of Nora's abduction, and of his own abortive efforts to trace her “The odd thing is," he said in conclusion, “we know the name of the man who stole the child, if we could only find hfln.” “Indeed !*’ “His- name is Harvey Gibbon." I was watching the old lawyer '.closely.4iad . ft^Lbese. j^ere

spoken an indescribable change came over hte face. “What reason have you for thinking that ?" he asked quickly. “The description of tho Boots at the, Regent's Hotel, and of the porter at Eust on-square apply to him exactly." “That is very narrow ground to go upon," said Mr. Humphrey, moving his arm from the writing-table before hjm, upon which he had been resting it. I noticed, as ho moved it that he carried it stiffly, not lightly and easily. “What motive could this man—what did you call him ?—Gibbert? Gibbon ?—what motive could he possibly have for committing such a serious offence ?"•

“I can only guess at an answer to that question," returned Mr. Lister. “And what is your guess, may I ask ?"

“He wanted to gratify his passion of revenge," said Mr. Lister. “Of revenge !” echoed Mr. Humphrey, knitting his brows. “I don’t think I quite understand you." “It seems that this man Gibbon made an offer of marriage to a lady. The lady refused him ; and ho chose to think himself much injured and insulted in consequence. He thought to strike at her through her sister. Is not that your impression, Miss Ilambley ?" he added, turning to me to confirm what he had said. He stretched out his arm ancl took up my card. I could see that his hand trembled. Mr. Lister and I exchanged a wondering look. It was my name, not Harvey Gibbon’s, that had startled the lawyer out of his reserve.

He took up my card, and put on his spectacles deliberately. “I beg your pardon," he said, after inspecting the bit of pasteboard. “My sight is not very good, and I thought the name on the card was Hamilton. I now see that the name of Hamilton has been struck out in pencil, and the name of Ilambley substituted. The pencil-marks hardly showed on the glazed surface. But you are Miss Hambley ?" he inquired, turning to me with a smile. “I am," I replied. “T assumed the same of Hamilton for “I hardly think we need go into that at present, Miss Hambley," said Mr. Lis'ter, with an affectation of impatience. “The point is that Nora is your sister, to whom Gibbon knew you were exceedinglj' attached—that is so, isn't it ?" “Certainly," said I.

“And he was greatly enraged, I believe at your refusing to marry him ?" “Yes."

Outwardly Mr. Humphrey was listening to this ; but I could see that his attention had wandered —that his mind was fixed on some point which was beyond our ken.

“May I ask " he inquired, in gentle tones, “why you thought of consulting me in this matter ?"

This was a blow straight from the shoulder, and there was but one way of replying to it. “Because Harvey Gibbon has been seen frequenting this office, and we thought you might be able to trace him," answered Mr. Lister, looking the crafty old man straight in the laoe.

“And supposing that he were a client of mine, which I do not admit do you imagine that I would give you his address to his prejudice ? I see you are a member of the Bar,, sir Do you think it is professional, or even honourable conduct, to try to get me to betray a client?" Hugh Lister's face flushed as he answered :

“It is not betraying a client in the professional sense of the word, to give up his address when he is hiding from justice ; at least it io not dishonourable for one who has been wronged as Miss Hambley has been to try to find him by any means in her power." Mr. Humphrey. with a wave of his arm dismissed mo out of the case. “Miss Hambley's conduct is not in question," he said. “And Harvey Gibbon—a man about whom I know yery little, by the way—is not, so ia-r. as I know, fleeing from justice. I have no evidence, and you have none—none worth speaking of —that he was concerned in this case of abduction. It is pure surmise—fancyspeculation. That a man should commit the crime of abduction to revenge himself upon a sister, because she refused to marry him ! Ridiculous ! Absurd ! I have no hesitation in refusing to help you to Mr. Gibbon’s address, if your object is to bring against him a trutmpedup charge of this kind. As for advice', I fancy you want none from me."

And with these words Mr. Humphrey stretched out his hand to the bell which stood on his table, to summon a clerk to show us the door “Wait a bit, Mr. Humphrey," said my companion. He saw that tho time had come for striking with his last weapon. “I advise you not to adopt the course of shielding this man Gibbon without due consideration. This is not his only offence against the law. In a few days—hours, rather—the police will be on his tracks on account of a much more serious charge." The quiet sneer which had rested on Mr. Humphrey's wrinkled features gradually wore away as my friend continued to speak. “What charge ?" he asked. “The charge of attempted murder"

Again Mr. Humphrey started—so violently that his hand came down upon the hand-bell, over which it was still suspended, and rang it sharply.

It was answered at once ; and the lawyer, waving his hand, dismissed the boy who had attended the summons. The little incident gave the old man time to recover.

“A charge of attempting to murder whom ?"

“Mr. Frank Moseley." “There is no evidence of any such charge," said Mr. Humphrey—“at least you have shown me none." The recovery was not unskilful ; but the slip had been made. 1 was certain now, that the lawyer knew of the attempt on Frank Moseley’s life and had associated Gibbon with the attempt in his own mind. Otherwise .it would never have occurred to him

to say that there was no evidence against him before he heard what evidence might be in our possession “We have conclusive evidence," said my companion; ‘•and I will only say this “What is the evidence ?" interrupted the old man.

“That I decline to tell you," said Hugh Lister, firmly. “It exists, however. It is in our possession at this minute. I intend to lay it at once before thp police, and ask them to apply for a warrant against this man Gibbon. I shall also mention, in the interests of justice, that you are acquainted with this man, and refuse to disclose his address." “I have not refused to disclose it since I heard this last charge against him," said Mr. Humphrey, sharply.

He took a minute or two to consider, coolly surveying in turn the four corners of the window, as if to aid his ppwers of reflection.

“It is some weeks since I saw Mr. Gibbon," continued the old lawyer. “He then lived at No. 34, Mont rosestreet, Russel 1-square. That, at least was the address he gave me ; ancl I believe that letters sent to that address reached him. Whether he is to be found there now or not, I cannot tell."

“Thank you for the address," said my companion, coolly, as he jotted it down in his note-book. “If you are wise, sir," he added, in a stern voice, “you will not identify yourself with the fortune or character of Harvey Gibbon more than you can help." To this the old. man made no reply whatever, ancl we immediately left the room. It was with a sense of relief that we found ourselves once more in the street. To be Continued. (1000.)