The Hundred £ Note.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XII, Issue XX, 19 May 1894, Page 466

The Hundred £ Note.

By

George R Sims

N the 14th of October, 189—, all London was liL7vA\ startled by the report that the Hon. Tom TIPivB Lanreston, a young officer in the Guards, had been fouud dead in Regent’s Park with a hundred » pound note firmly clutched in his hand. From the first it was evident that a mysterious crime had been committed. The body was first noticed by a working-man going to his work at five in the morning. It lay close against the railings of the park opposite Hanover terrace. The man went at once through Hanover gate into Park road in search of a policeman, who returned with him, ringing up a doctor on his way. The doctor, directly he arrived upon the scene, pronounced life extinct, and expressed his opinion that death had occurred about five hours previously, or shortly after midnight. A closer examination of the body showed that there was a terrible wound in the back of the skull; but this was accounted for by the presence of a large jagged flint stone on the pathway. The unfortunate man had evidently in his fall struck his head violently upon this, and the injury was sufficient to cause death. But that the fall had not been caused by fainting or anything of that kind was proved by the state of the face, on which there were marks of violence. It was evident that the dead man had been subjected to a severe assault, and it was probable that he had been brutally ill-treated, knocked down, and left to his fate. The hundred pound note clasped in the man’s hand was a puzzle to the police, who took up the case vigorously as soon as they bad ascertained who the dead man was. Their first theory was that an attempt had been made to rob Mr Laureston, and that be had clutched the note to prevent his assailant taking it from him. But the pockets of the victim had evidently not been touched. Gold was found upon him. The number of the note was 2 k 70,006, and this was traced at once. It had been paid over the counter of the West end branch of the London and County Bank to Tom Laureston himself about a week previously. Mr Laureston’s movements on the fatal evening were also traced. He had occupied a stall at a West End theatre, where a popular play was being performed, and he had afterward walked as far as Clarence gate with a friend who was living in St. John’s Wood, and had then said good-night. He himself was staying at the time with hie mother, who had a house in Hanover Terrace, and he was on his way home when attacked. The idea of an attempted robbery was eventually dismissed by the police. A thief would have searched the senseless man’s pockets, and also have taken the note from his hand. Directly it was agreed that the young officer was not the victim of a midnight robbery, the mystery became deeper. What object could anyone have in brutally assaulting him and leaving him for dead on a public thoroughfare! ' Though closely questioned, the friends and brother officers of Tom Laureston could give no information. Laureston was a man immensely popular. He was not known to have a single enemy, and no one who knew him could offer the slightest suggestion which would furnish a due for the police' to follow up. But there was one person who could have given the information, and that was Miss Sibyl Carlyon, the charming soprano, who had lately taken London by storm in a new opera bouffe. Sibyl Carlyon first heard of the murder when she arrived at the theatre the following evening. Everybody was talking about it. * Tom Laureston murdered I* she exclaimed, and for a moment it looked as though she were going to faint. But she recovered herself with a great effort. * How—how did it happen f she gasped. * Tell me all about it.* The woman who told her watched her narrowly. It was known in theatrical circles that Tom Laureston had been one of her acquaintances, and it had been whispered that he had fallen violently in love with her. But she had always laughed when his name was mentioned and said, * Oh, nonsense I He’s a charming fellow and we are excellent friends, but that is all.* Sibyl Carlyon heard the story through to the end, and went to her dressing room. How she got through that evening she wondered herself. But her nerves were strong and het will indomitable. But after the performance was over and she was alone at home in her charming little flat she paced up and down the room and grew hysterical.

* My note 1* she cried ; * my note, the note Tom gave me, the note sent to Frank Dormer 1 What does it mean—what can it mean 1’ She went to her despatch box and opened it ahd took out her little red morocco memorandum book. She looked at one of the pages and then at an evening newspaper. * Yes,’ she exclaimed, •it is certain—2 K 70,006.’ She had taken the precaution to make a memorandum of the number before sending it away in a registered letter. Having satisfied herself, on this point she went to the fire, dropped the little red morocco book into it and waited until it was burned. Then she sat down and tried to imagine what it could mean, and to make up her mind what she ought to do. Her position was a terrible one. In a few days her engagement to a young earl, who had fallen madly in love with her and asked her to be his wife, would be made known. If she came forward and gave information that this note had been in her possession, and that she herself had received it from Tom Laureston and posted it to Frank Dormer, there would be a public scandal. And Frank—what would happen to him ? In whal way was he connected with the tragedy ? Sibyl Carlyon thought and thought far into the night, but she could see no course open to her but absolute silence, and so, with a great effort dismissing the tragedy from her mind, she went to bed and slept.

The next morning she rose early, went herself to the Post Office and sent a telegram. It was addressed to Frank Dormer, at his chambers in Langham-street, and wat a request that he would come and see her at once. That afternoon Frank Dormer called, and Sibyl, directly she saw him, knew that her worst fears were realised. He was so altered that she scarcely knew him. He was barely thirty, and he looked forty. His face was deathly pale, and bis brown beard already had streaks of grey in it. * You sent for me,’ he said, as he held out his hand, which she did not take. * What do you want with met’

* You know what I want. I want to hear from your own lips what you know of Tom Laureston’s death.’ * You want the truth T* * Yes, the whole truth 1* The young man looked at her sternly for a moment, and then in a cold, hard voice he said, * I did it.* * You, Frank—you 1’ ‘ Yes; can’t you guess why t’ * I know how madly jealous yon were, but you never had any right to be jealous of Laureston.’ * Not jealous of him !’ cried the man, clenching his fists and speaking fiercely and quickly. * Not jealous or the man whose money yon sent to me, your lover—God forgive me—your miserable dupe.’ Sibyl Carlyon shrugged her shoulders. * If yon say so it is useless for me to attempt to deny it. I ceased to care for you because of your insults, your insane jealousy, your mad rages, but Tom Laureston was never my lover.’ *He gave you that money, I tell you I know it. When I received the hundred pounds and your cold, cruel letter, saying that you begged to return the sum yon had borrowed from me and that you did not wish to see me again, I knew yon must have obtained the money from a man. You are too heavily in debt to have found it without assistance. I watched you. I watched outside your house day after day and I saw Lanreston go in. When I received the note I set to work at once and traced it to Lanreston. Then I went mad. It was a foul, cowardly insult to send me that money at all—to send me his money was infamous. I determined that I would meet him, tell him what you wei e, and give him'his money back again. * I saw him in the theatre that night. I followed him till he went into the Park, then I touched him on the shoulder and he turned round. * “ Who are you ! What do yon want T” he said. * I told him that I was the lover of Sibyl Carlyon, that it was for him she had put me aside, and I begged to return him his money. I thrust the note into his hand. * Then he said something which maddened me. He told me that I was a coward to betray a woman in such a way, and then scarcely knowing what I did I seized him by the throat and struck him full in the face with all my force. He reeled and fell and I walked away. It was only the next morning that I learned he was dead.’ * You killed him, you 1’ cried the woman, her black eyes glistening with rage. ‘ You betrayed me to him like the coward that you are and killed him, and he was never my lover, only my friend, who helped me to pay you the miserable debt I owed yon.’ *lt was an insult to me yon know it; was no debt. It was given to you freely when you wanted money.’ * I did not choose any longer to be under any obligation to yon.’ * But yon put yourself under one to him ’ * Yes, but it was an honourable one. Well, it serves me right for ever caring for such a man as yon have proved yourself to be. Now, what are you going to do ?’ * Give myself up. I should have done so at once but for yon. Your name must be mixed up with the story if I tell the truth.*

* No, no, you mustn’t do that; no living souls but ourselves must know. Frank I’ said Sibyl, changing her tone and looking at her former lover gently, *do you—do you care for me a little still J’ * Care for you, Sibyl! Do you think I should have been - the madman that I was that night if I had not loved you , still with my whole heart and soul T * Then prove your love I’ * How can I do it T’ * By carrying this secret with yon to the grave 1’ * For your sake ’ * For my sake I It is all too terrible. I know and you know that as far as poor Tom Laureston’s death is concerned it was an accident, but you struck him and left him senseless on the gronnd. God knows how it might appear against you, and what hope would there ever be for me again of, if—oh, I cannot bear to think of it. For your own sake as well as for mine the secret of Tom Laureston’s death must be kept by both of as until our dying day. No one knows that I sent you that note. I never told Laureston 'what it was for. No one ever saw yon with it in your possession— ?’ * No one.’

* Then as nothing can undo the past silence is beat for ua both. Come, promise.*! Frank Dormer looked steadily at this woman who had wrecked his life for ever. He knew her now. He knew the was without heart, without honour j only a selfish* worthless woman, but his love for her remained unchanged. He wanted to go to the police and tell the truth and boldly answer for his crime, but he felt that it would be ruin to her, that in some way it must be bound to come out that he had been her lover and that he was jealous of Laureston. and then —yes, he would do as she asked. She held out her hand to him. He took it, clasped it for a moment and then without another word he went out of her sight and Sibyl Carlyon never saw him again. A week afterward he sailed from Liverpool for America. When the vessel arrived at New York the captain reported that when three days out a passenger had jumped overboard, and every effort to save him had been in vainThat passenger was Frank Dormer. When Sibyl Carlyon heard of the suicide she gave a sigh of relief. She had been haunted by the fear that in spite of his promise Frank Dormer might one day betray himself Now the last fear was gone. The secret of Tom Lanreston’s death was hers alone, and she was quite safe in her own hands.

Three months after the suicide of Frank Dormer the engagement of the beautiful soprano, Sibyl Carlyon, to the young Earl of Galvaton was announced in the society papers. Lord Galvaton was a young man of five and twenty, blessed with a large fortune, which had been made in trade by his grandfather, a successful and miserly Scotch merchant, who to the day of his death lived in a small house in an unpretentious street, and went to bed early in order to save the gas. Lord Galvaton’s father made a better use of the money, became a politician, and for his great services, political and financial, to the Conservative cause, was made a peer immediately after ageneral election. He did not survive his honours long, ana was succeeded by hie son, a lad of twenty, who at once commenced to honour the drama with his patronage. He was popularly supposed to be the mainstay of a West End Temple of Art, in which comic opera was produced from time to time with a luxury of dress and appointments which made it absolutely impossible as a profitable speculation, and rumour had it, that a young lady who sang badly and acted worse, but who always had the best parte given her, was the magnet which constantly attracted iresh supplies of capital to the manager’s yawning coffers. When, therefore, the announcement of Lord Galvaton’s engagement to Sibyl Carlyon, who was the star of another house, appeared in the society papers, the people who knew something—or thought they knew something—were taken completely by surprise. No one had ever seen Lord Galvaton and Sibyl together, except at certain aristocratic houses where the host and hostess laid themselves out for the entertainment of fashionable Taesp a us, and peei esses and actors and actresses and peers mixed together on friendly terms, and bored or amused each other as the case might be. Sibyl had fascinated the young Earl at once, and he had contrived to get invitations to several Belgravian luncheon parties at which she was the Bohemian star. But he was a little frightened of her and had hesitated to allow his admiration, to be generally observed. But Sibyl, who was quick-witted in such matters, had not been slow to pursue herconquest, and, knowingthe weakness of Galvaton’s character, she had at once determined to make a bold coup for a coronet. Her first move was to quarrel with Frank Dormer and rid herself of his jealous espionage. She knew how sensitive he was, and she had resolved to insult him in a way which she believed he would was with this idea ®hat she had borrowed LlOO from Tom Laureston and sent it to her former • friend.* She didn t mind Frank being jealous of Laureston, as • there was nothing in it, but she was particularly anxious that he l kn l °'\“° thln g of her plans with regard to Galvaton until she had that young nobleman absolutely at her mercy.

It did not take her very long to bring Galvaton to his knees, and he soon found out that if he intended to court ■ 1 1 1 i w ? u . have to k® P° ur I* b° n motif. He was so completely fascinated by her that when after an attempt on his part to make her understand what his offer of ’sincere ■ nendship meant, she sent him a curt note requesting that would not call upon her again, he sat down at once and wrote her a long explanation, in which he declared that he nad not the slightest intention of insulting her. and that

the proudest moment of his life would be the one in which •he consented to become Lady Galvaton. To that letter he received a guarded reply. Sibyl waa naturally flattered by his offer, she wrote, and she waa not at all insensible to the love he professed for her, but she waa not a deaigning woman, and she felt that in a matter in which the whole happiness of their future lives waa concerned they could not be too cautious. She would meet Lord Galvaton, if he wished it, in public at the houses of their mutual friends, but on no account could •he allow him to pose as her lover, to call upon her except aa the ordinary visitor, or to see her at the theatre. She was bound to consider her own reputation, and it would be exceedingly dangerous to her if after being seen about with her continually he were to change his mind or to yield to family influence and endeavour to be released from his promise. If Lord Galvaton wished she would be engaged to him for three months without in any way appearing to be more than acquaintances, and if at the end of that time he chose to renew his offer she would accept it and allow the engagement to be made public. To this arrangement the young lord eventually consented. To a certain extent it suited him as it gave him time to withdraw himself from the theatrical speculation in which he was involved, and to gradually drop the * act ’ with which he was mixed up in connection with it. Sibyl Carlyon played her cards well, and after the first shock of Lanreston’s death and Frank Dormer’s suicide wore off she dismissed both tragedies from her mind completely, and comported herself with that modesty and dignity which she felt waa moat befitting under the altered circumstances. At the end of the three months Lord Galvaton formally renewed his offer of marriage and Sibyl accepted it, and then the first serious difficulty arose. Lord Galvaton had kept his engagement secret from every one, and • every one ’ included the members of his own family. His mother, an excellent woman with strong ideas on certain subjects, heard of it first through the press announcements, and at once came up to town to see her son and to request him to assure her that the report waa absolutely without foundation. The young Earl had dreaded the interview, for he stood in considerable awe of his mother. But he knew it would have to come, and he braced himself up for the occasion, and in his own expressive language prepared himself ‘ to face the music.’

He apologised to his mother for not having informed her of his engagement—he knew that he had acted wrongly, but he thought he should like to have an opportunity of introducing Sybil to her after the engagement was announced, instead of before. He knew his mother’s prejudice against the stage, and he dreaded her opposition. He assured her Siby 1 Carlyon was a lady of irreproachable character and excellent birth. Her father had been a gentleman farmer (as a matter of fact he had been a small farmer and cattle dealer in Hertfordshire, and had been twice bankrupt), and she had only taken to the profession as a means of supporting an invalid mother, who had lived with her until she died a year ago. Sibyl was, in fact, everything that was good, and -he felt sure that his mother had only to see her to approve hie choice. Lady Galvaton listened to all her son had to say, but it made no impression on her. She disapproved of the theatre, she disapproved of actresses, and sbe determined to do all in her power to break the engagement off She was a lady not to talk, but to do, so, finding her son insensible to argument, she bade him good day and drove off at once to Mr Frodsham, the family solicitor, to ask for his advice. Mr Frodsham had heard the startling news—in fact, he had read it in the papers, and he had expected a visit from her ladyship. As a man of the world, he felt that it was not a desirable marriage for the young earl. As a man of the world, he knew something of the theatre, and had a little private information with regard to Sibyl Carlyon which did not quite bear out the story the earl had told his mother.

Lady Galvaton was anxious to know what that private information was, and on condition that she would consider it as absolutely confidential until he gave her permission to use it, he imparted it to her. Mr Frodsham was the solicitor of the Laureston family, and the papers of poor Tom Laureston had come into his possession. Among the letters was one from Sibyl Carlyon written only a few days before the murder took place—viz., on the 9th of October. It was a short little letter, but Mr Frodsham thought it might be important. At any rate he had, directly he found it, employed a private inquiry agent to look into certain matters, and he was now awaiting his report with considerable curiosity. The letter which Mr Frodsham handed to .Lady Galvaton to read waa as follows

Dear Mr Laureston.—Thank you very much for your kind offer. I will repay you at the very first opportunity. Let it be notes and not a cheque, as It is to send away to a person who Is worrying me. Yours sincerely.—Sibyl Carlyon.’

Lady Galvaton read the note twice and laid it down. •I don’t see,’ she said, * that this proves anything except that Miss Carlyon borrowed money from Mr Laureston. There is nothing in the note to suggest anything but that it was a kind offer of assistance on his part. * ’Quite so,* replied the lawyer, • but Tom Laureston was murdered on the night of the 13th of the same month—that is four days afterwards—and in his hand was found a hun • dred pound note. That note he drew from his bank on the 10th of October, which would be the day on which he received Miss Carlyon’s acceptance of his offer. It is quite on the cards that the secret of that mysterious hundred pound note is in Miss Carlyon’s possession, and if it is * — • Well, if it is ’—

* I don’t think we shall have much trouble with her. The is still in my possession. I asked the family to be allowed to keep it as I have always believed it would one day be a clue to Lanreston’s death, although the police refused to see any connection between the note and the motive of the murder. They believed he had it about him, •ua when assaulted, thinking it was with the intention of robbery, he took the note from his pocket, and clutched it in his hand to save it.* * But surely you do not suspect the woman ’ — Had anything to do with the attack on Laureston 1 No, not for a moment, but I believe the person who was *• worrying her,” and wanted money, had. At any rate, I’m going to follow up the clue for what it is worth, and I’ll let you know the result as soon as possible.*

Mr Frodsham was an elderly solicitor with an aristocratic family connection, and as such he had become strongly impressed in the course of a long career with the truth of the excellent French proverb Cherchez la Jemma. From the first he had inclined to the belief that the mystery of Tom Lanreston’s death would never be explained nntil he had found the woman.

Directly he came upon Sibyl Carlyon’s letter among the Unfortunate young Guardsman’s papers, he felt convinced that at last he haa a clue. Whither that clue would lead him he didn’t endeavour to think. All he wanted to do was to follow it up and see exactly how far it would lead, and if he had needed any further incentive to activity it was furnished by the visit of Lady Galvaton, and the announcement of the young lord’s engagement to the ‘popular actress.*

When the agent he had set to work came with his report it was not a very elaborate one, but it was at least consistent with the solicitor’s theory, and established a direct connection between Miss Carlyon and Tom Laureston. On the day that Mr Laureston had cashed his cheque at the bank and received a hundred pound note in exchange he had been driven to the bank in a hansom cab. The cabman had been found, and had stated that after Mr Laureston came out of the bank he drove him to his club, where he remained some little time, and then came out and told the cabman to drive him to No. 10 street, Russell Square, where Mr Laureston got out and handed a note to the attendant who was at the door, got into the cab again and drove to the barracks, where he dismissed the cabman. The inquiry agent had been to No. 10, a house let out in flats, and had ascertained the names of all the people living there at that date, and had taken them down. Among them the lawyer found the name of Sibyl Carlyon. She was living there at that time, but had since moved. The attendant who was there at the time had left, and no one could, give any information as to a note being left that day. This was so far satisfactory. It established the fact that Tom Laureston, with a hundred pounds in his possession, had driven to his club, written a letter and left it at Sibyl Carlyon’s house, and that was probably his reply to her request to send ‘notes.’ He haa enclosed one note and left it himself. The next day Mr Frodsham, having ascertained Miss Carlyon s address, put on hie pleasantest professional smile, and set out to call upon the lady. He had not written to say he was coming, having determined to take his chance. He sent np hie card with a request that he might see Miss Carlyon on a matter of business, and was presently ushered into the lady’s apartment. ‘ You must pardon this visit, Miss Carlyon,’ said the solicitor, fixing his eyes upon the young lady and mentally calculating her powers of dissimulation, * but in going oyer the papers of a client of mine who died some time since, I found a letter addressed to him by you.’ * Indeed 1’ exclaimed Sibyl uneasily. ‘ And what was your client's name ?’ ‘ Tom Laureston.’ Sibyl Carlyon started, but regained her composure instantly. ‘ Poor fellow 1’ she said. • I knew him, but not very well, you know. I don’t remember sending him a letter beyond ordinary courtesy. Do you call upon all the ladies whose letters you may happen to find among a dead client’s ' papers T ‘ Oh, no ; I burn them as a rule, but in this instance the letter suggested that you may be able to give me a little explanation.’ 'lndeed. Pray, proceed.* ‘The letter, my dear young lady, is dated the 9th of October, and it requests my client to send you some unstated amount of money in note?.’ The colour began to leave Sibyl Carlyon’s face. She remembered that letter now. She had always believed that Laureston would naturally have destroyed it directlv he received it. ' This is rather unusual, Mr Frodsham,’ she exclaimed, glancing at the card, * and to me very painful. I really don’t think you have any right to come to me on such a matter.' ‘ You will excuse me, Miss Carlyon, I am sure, when I tell you that I come here at the request of Lady Galvaton, to whose son you are engaged.’ ‘ Lady Galvaton I’ gasped Sibyl ‘ Yes. lam also her solicitor.*

‘ You—yon have shown them my letter—a letter addressed to Mr Laureston. You have betrayed your trust—surely the papers of a client are sacred ?’

* Q lite so, but you see I thought it better to keep this matter in the family instead of handing it to the police as bearing perhaps on Mr Laureston's fate. That I have still a right to do if—* * If what—’ * If you do not tell me what yon did with the hundred pound note that Mr Laureston left at your honse for you on October 10th—the note which was found clutched in his hand when his body was discovered.

A quarter of an honr later Mr Frodsham bade Miss Carlyon good-day. He was satisfied that she bad told him the truth, and that no good purpose would be served by making the story public. Frank Dormer was dead and beyond the reach of justice, even if it could have been proved that he was actually guilty of Laureston’s death. But his visits and threats had answered their purpose. Sibyl Carlyon had by her conduct placed herself completely at his mercy, and he had made his terms. Two days afterward a paragraph appeared in most leading papers stating there was no truth in the announcement of a forthcoming marriage between Miss Carlyon and Lord Galvaton. And Lord Galvaton, when he heard the facts, was the first to congratulate himself upon the turn affairs had taken. Miss Carlyon shortly afterward accepted an engagement in New York, and she is still starring in America. The mystery of the death of Tom Laureston remains a mystery still, and to this day, when his fate is discussed, everyone has a special theory of his own abont the hundred pound note.— New York Herald.