As a rule first performances in Melbourne take place on Saturday night, consequently the criticisms on "Faust Upset" were in Monday's papers. Simultaneously with the notices of the burlesque, there appeared an announcement that the author of the piece had been arrested for the murder of Jacob Lazarus.
Keith was very little known in Melbourne, so his arrest personally caused little talk; but the fact that a successful author and a murderer were one and the same person caused a great sensation.
The criticisms on the burlesque were, as a rule, good, and though some of the papers picked out faults, yet it was generally agreed that the piece had been a wonderful success; but the sensation of a successful colonial production having taken place was merged in the greater sensation of the discovery of the Russell Street murderer.
Keith Stewart, protesting his innocence of the charge, had immediately been taken off to gaol, and Eugénie was unable to see him until she got the permission of the proper authorities; but feeling certain that he had not committed the crime, she called on Ezra at The Penny Whistle early on Monday morning.
On sending up her card, she was shown into Ezra's room, and there found that Naball was present. The detective, who was fully convinced of Keith's guilt, had called in order to find out for certain from Ezra all about the prisoner's movements on the night in question.
When Eugénie entered the room, Ezra, who looked pale and careworn, arose and greeted her warmly. He then introduced her to Naball, who looked keenly at the sad face of the woman who was engaged to the man he had hunted down.
"Mr. Naball," said Ezra, indicating the detective, "has called upon me to find out about Stewart's movements on the night my father was murdered."
"Yes; that's so," replied Naball, with a shrewd glance at the Jew.
"Well," said Eugénie impatiently, "surely you can explain them, for Keith told me you were with him all the time."
Ezra looked dismal.
"No, I wasn't with him all the time; I only met him at the Bon-Bon, and I left before he did."
"Yes," interposed the detective smoothly; "and, according to Mr. Mortimer, Stewart left there about half-past twelve o'clock."
"And then, I presume," said Eugénie, with fine disdain, "you think he went and murdered Lazarus right off?"
"Well," observed Naball, deliberately smoothing his gloves, "according to the doctor's evidence, the crime was committed about twelve o'clock, or a little later. Now Stewart can't say where he was between the time he left the theatre and the time he met Villiers."
"He was wandering about the streets," explained Eugénie.
Naball smiled cynically.
"Yes; so he says."
"And so every one else says who knows Keith Stewart," retorted the girl. "He is incapable of such an act."
Naball shrugged his shoulders as much as to say that he had nothing to urge against such an eminently feminine argument.
Eugénie looked angrily at the detective, and then turned in despair to the Jew.
"You don't believe him guilty?" she asked.
"No, on my soul, I do not," he replied fervently; "still appearances look black against him."
Miss Rainsford thought for a few moments, and at last bluntly asked Naball the same question.
"Do you believe him guilty?"
"As far as my experience goes," said the detective coolly, "I do."
"Why?"
Naball produced a little pocket-knife, and began to trim his nails.
"The evidence is circumstantial," he said, shrugging his shoulders, "but the evidence is conclusive."
"Would you mind telling me what the evidence is?"
The detective shut his knife with a sharp click, slipped it into his waistcoat pocket, and, leaning over the table, looked steadily at Eugénie.
"Miss Rainsford," he said gravely, "I admire you very much for the way you stand up for Stewart, but, believe me, that though I would gladly see him free, yet the proofs are too strong to suppose him innocent."
Eugénie bent her head coldly. "Would you mind telling me the evidence?" she reiterated.
Naball, rather perplexed, looked at Ezra. "Yes, tell her all you know," said that gentleman. "I think, myself, Stewart is innocent, and perhaps Miss Rainsford may throw some light on the mystery."
"I don't call it a mystery," retorted Naball impatiently; "it's as clear as day. I'm willing to tell all I know; but as to Miss Rainsford throwing any light on the subject, it's absurd."
Eugénie questioned him for the third time in the same words.
"Would you mind telling me the evidence?"
"Certainly," said Naball sharply. "Stewart was in employment of the deceased as his clerk. He came to Melbourne with no money, and, according to his own account, given in this very room, and in the presence of this gentleman, he becomes possessed of a sum of five hundred pounds, which was mysteriously placed to his credit at the Hibernian Bank. I went to the bank, and discovered from the manager that such a sum had been placed to the prisoner's credit, but he refused to tell me by whom, so, as was only natural, I concluded that Stewart had robbed his employer of the money, and under a feigned name placed it to his credit. My reasons for such a belief are this--he had full command of all the books, and could cook the accounts as he liked. He did so, and obtained this money. Lazarus, however, who I know was a very sharp man, had suspicions, and determined to examine the books; this, of course, meant ruin to Stewart, so he made up his mind to kill his master. He was at the Skylarks' Club on the night of the murder, and gave Mr. Fenton, the manager of The Never-say-die Insurance Company, his knife to open a champagne bottle; that knife was one given to him by the child of Kitty Marchurst, and has on it an inscription, 'From Meg.' On receiving it back, he placed it in the pocket of his overcoat, and walked to the Bon-Bon. After an interview with Mr. Mortimer, he left the Bon-Bon at half-past twelve o'clock, went up to Russell Street, and entering by the back window (the position of which he knew thoroughly), killed the old man; then he took the keys from under the pillow, and robbed the safe of various things, including bank-notes to the amount of one hundred pounds, which he knew were placed therein; while leaving the place, he dropped his knife outside the window; he then wanders about the streets, perhaps goes home, but horror-struck with the dread of being found out, returns to the scene of his crime, and there sees Villiers, whom he questions, but getting no response from him, thinks Villiers is drunk. Villiers, however, was only shamming, and tells me some time afterwards that he picked up a knife under the open window, and was cognisant of the murder. I obtain the knife, and it is the one Stewart had in the club, with the inscription on it. I think, therefore, the evidence is very clear."
"In what way?" asked Eugénie quietly.
The detective became a little exasperated.
"Good heavens!" he said in an annoyed tone of voice, "there are three strong proofs: first, he is possessed of a large sum of money he can't account for; second, he is unable to prove an alibi; and third, his knife, covered with blood, is found on the scene of the crime."
"So far so good," said Eugénie ironically; "your reasoning is excellent, Mr. Naball, but untrue."
"Untrue?"
"I repeat untrue," she replied. "With regard to the five hundred pounds--I paid that into his credit."
"You," said Ezra, while Naball stared at her thunder-struck, "a poor girl."
"I'm not a poor girl," said Miss Rainsford coolly. "On the contrary, I'm worth fifty thousand pounds left to me by a sharebroker in Sandhurst. I did not tell Keith of my fortune as I wanted him to love me for myself. But as I knew he was poor, I placed to his credit the sum of five hundred pounds; so that settles your first proof, Mr. Naball."
"Well, it's certainly very curious," said Naball, after a pause. "I hardly know what to think--what about my second proof?"
"Oh! that's more difficult to prove," said Eugénie; "but I quite believe he did wander about. He's rather absent-minded, I know."
"Your answer to my second proof is weak," replied Naball sardonically. "And the third--"
"About the knife? Well," said Miss Rainsford, knitting her brows, "he had it at the club, you say, and slipped it into his overcoat pocket."
"Exactly."
"Then he went to the Bon-Bon."
"He did."
"And what happened to his overcoat there?' asked Eugénie.
"I can tell you," replied Ezra. "He took it off, and in mistake Caprice carried it downstairs with her fur mantle."
"Oh, did she take it away with her?" asked Naball quickly.
"No," said Ezra quietly, "she found out she had it when she was putting on her mantle in the carriage, and called me back to return it. I took it upstairs again, and gave it to Keith, who put it on."
"And the knife was still in the pocket?" said Eugénie.
"I suppose so," replied Ezra, rather confused. "I didn't even know the knife was there."
"What do you think?" asked Miss Rainsford, turning to Naball.
That astute young man wrinkled his brows.
"I see what you are driving at," he said rapidly. "You think that Caprice took the knife out of the pocket, saw the whole chance in a flash, and committed the crime."
"No! no!" cried Eugénie, horror struck. "I'm sure I don't believe she could be guilty of a crime."
"Humph! I don't know so much about that," said Naball disbelievingly.
"What nonsense," broke in Ezra angrily; "she could not have done such a thing--she had no motive."
Naball did not reply to this remark, but rising from his seat, walked hurriedly up and down the room in a state of great excitement. He had been fully convinced of the guilt of Stewart, but the conversation of Eugénie had shaken his belief, and he began to puzzle over the new aspect of the case.
"I wonder if Caprice ever had any dealings with Lazarus?" he said to himself, thinking of the diamond robbery.
"Yes," broke in Eugénie sharply, "she had--at least," in answer to Naball's questioning look, "when I was at the theatre on Saturday night a boy near me said he had seen her at Lazarus's place."
"A boy," asked Ezra sharply, "what boy?"
"I don't know," she replied; "a thin, pale-faced Jewish-looking boy, with a shrill voice."
"Isaiah," said Naball and Ezra with one voice, and then looked at one another, amazed at this new discovery.
"By Jove!" said the detective, "this is becoming exciting. You are sure you heard the boy say that?"
"Yes, I'm sure--quite sure," answered Eugénie firmly; "but I don't think that could prove Caprice guilty. Much as I wish to serve Keith, I don't want to ruin her."
Naball glanced at her keenly, then turned to Ezra.
"Send for the boy," he said sharply, "and we'll find out all about Caprice's visits to your father's place."
"It mightn't have anything to do with the murder," said Ezra, ringing the bell for the messenger.
"True," replied Naball, "but, on the other hand, it might have a good deal to do with the diamond robbery."