Dr. Jim slept very little that night. He was turning over in his mind Joyce's strange conduct. Now that he remembered, Robin had been very particular as to the details of his whereabouts. He had gone to Town on a Tuesday leaving Herrick at the Southberry Railway Inn. According to his story he had seen Frith and Frith the same afternoon, and again the next morning. The intervening night he had slept at the Hull Hotel in a side Street off the Strand. Then on Wednesday afternoon, he had rejoined Dr. Jim at Southberry and on Thursday morning had started to cross the Heath. It was on that same night, that the two had discovered the body of Colonel Carr. So far Herrick had believed this story.
But now, the fact that he had not called on the lawyers had put a different complexion on the affair. Also his statement concerning the money left to him was proved--by the evidence of the solicitors who paid the annuity--to be a lie. Robin therefore had not been so deeply plunged in grief as he appeared to be, when he could call a few days after his mother's death to see if he was to inherit the money. Herrick considered that probably when alone in the flat he had found some paper stating that the five hundred a year terminated at his mother's death, and had gone to Frith and Frith in order to ascertain if this were true. Besides his mother might have told him this on her deathbed. But what else had she told him? Colonel Carr was not the man to pay out money for nothing. Mrs. Joyce must have had some hold over him.
However the main point, and that which vexed Dr. Jim most, was the fact that Robin had not called on the solicitors, as he said he had done. At Southberry he had received a letter calling him up to town. Jim had not read the letter, but since Robin had told him the contents he never doubted that it was from the firm of Frith. If he had not called on them, why was the letter sent, and where was he during the two days he was in Town? Herrick reckoned back the dates. It was Thursday the twenty-sixth of July when they arrived at Saxham. Robin had gone to Town on the twenty-fourth, and on that same night Colonel Carr (according to the medical evidence) had been shot.
"Good Heavens!" said Jim when this came into his mind, "can it be possible that Joyce killed the man? There is no reason why he should. I am a suspicious fool. He was in London even though he did not call on the solicitors. There is no proof that he was at Saxham. He said himself when he went through the Pine wood that he did not know the country."
Then Jim recollected that it was Robin who had selected the route for the walking tour. Could it be possible that he knew of the existence of the House in the Pine Wood, and had designedly led Herrick that way in order that the murder should be discovered, and suspicion averted from himself? "No! No!" Cried Jim tossing and turning, "he could not have contrived so damnable a scheme. Besides he slept at the Hull Hotel."
In this way he kept arguing out the situation, but by the morning he had come to no conclusion. The evidence against Robin was not strong enough. But while shaving Dr. Jim made up his mind to call on Frith and Frith, and also to look in at the Hull Hotel. Nevertheless whatever he found, he resolved to hold his tongue so far as Robin was concerned. Joyce was far too intimate with Don Manuel to please Herrick. And Don Manuel, as the doctor remembered professed a hatred of Carr. He also might have something to do with the matter.
"Stephen" said Herrick at breakfast, "I want you to look after yourself again to-day. I have business to do."
"All right," replied Marsh, "I can amuse myself. There is The National Gallery to see; and the Tower, and Westminster Abbey. I should only bore you taking you to these places."
"I am never bored in your company," said Jim absently, his thoughts intent on what he had to do, "but I shall be at your service to-morrow.
"You have to see about your practice I suppose Herrick?"
"Yes. Also some other business. How long do you want to stay in Town?"
"A week is enough for the present," replied Marsh, "we came for two, did we not? I have got all the clothes, I need. They will be ready by the end of this week; then we can go back. You want to return?"
"Yes! I have an idea in my head. Later on I will tell it to you." Marsh turned to ask what Herrick meant but seeing that his friend was taken up with his own thoughts, he said nothing. After breakfast Jim left Marsh to look over the morning paper, and went out.
The first place he sought out was the lawyer's office. Mr. Frith the junior partner received him, all the more readily, when he heard the name. On the previous day, Stephen had been enthusiastic on the subject of his new friend. Frith junior took to Jim at once.
"I am glad to see you," he said pushing forward a chair, "Mr. Marsh-Carr told us all about you. I am glad he has had the good sense to select you as a companion. He needs shaking up."
"Marsh is a good fellow," replied Jim, "and anything I can do to make a man of him shall be done. But the material is there, Mr. Frith."
"Yes! But that step-mother of his did a great deal to ruin him. He could not call his soul his own. I do not think her death is much to be regretted," finished Frith with a dry smile.
"She was rather stormy, but I think she really loved her step-son. What are you smiling at?"
"I was recalling one or two interviews I had with the lady in question," said the young lawyer. "She was, as you say, stormy. Even the Colonel was afraid of her, so he sent her up to us."
"What did she come about?"
"An annuity for herself and an income for her son, the present owner of the estate. Colonel Carr refused to allow her one penny. He said that he had made his will in favour of Stephen Marsh, and that both he and Mrs. Marsh could wait until his death. I tried hard to persuade him to allow her something but he refused. Mrs. Marsh used to come up and make scenes in this office. Stormy!" chuckled Frith. "I should think she was."
"What was your opinion of Colonel Carr?"
"Well," drawled the lawyer with a quick glance, "that is rather a leading question. The man is dead, and he was a good client to us. But speaking as man to man and in confidence doctor, I think he was the greatest scoundrel in the Three Kingdoms."
"That's rather strong Mr. Frith."
"Yet it falls short of the truth Dr. Herrick. However the man is dead, so we may leave him at rest. He met with a terrible death, and his own familiar friend put an end to him. The Colonel had not much human feeling but when dying he must have felt a pang at the thought that the only creature he had been kind to was putting him out of the way."
"Humph!" said Jim using his favourite ejaculation, "do you believe that Frisco did kill him?"
"I do not know anyone else who could have done so. And if he did not, why did he run away? Why does he keep hidden? Yes, Dr. Herrick, I think the crime can be safely put down to his account. Queer man too," added Frith reflectively, "he was slangy and a good bit of a brute, yet there was something of the gentleman about him. He could speak good English when he chose, which was not often."
"The Colonel brought him from South America?"
"Did he now?" said Frith sharply, "I never knew that before. Frisco at times came up about Carr's business but he was careful to say nothing about himself. He seemed fond of his master. That is why it is so strange he should have killed him. But then we know that the collie, which is the most faithful of dogs, goes mad at times and attacks his master. I expect it was something of the same kind with Frisco."
"Do you know how the Colonel made his money?" asked Herrick.
"No! nor does anyone else that I know of. I am certain of one thing, that it was made in some shady way. Carr was an out and out bad lot. A kind of Captain Kidd."
"Strange that you should mention his name in conjunction with Kidd. He had a treasure likewise, had he not?"
"What do you mean by 'had a treasure likewise?'"
Herrick considered a minute before replying. As a rule he was not a man given to loose speaking, and preferred to do his own work without the assistance of any one. But he saw that Frith was a shrewd and capable man, and that in case of need, his advice was not to be despised. So far as Joyce was concerned, Jim did not intend to say anything at present, as he was not yet sure of his ground and even had he been sure, he would have hesitated to betray his friend, however guilty he might be. Concerning Don Manuel, he had no such scruples, so he then and there told the lawyer all that had passed at the flat. Frith listened attentively, but seemed in no way astonished.
"It is the sort of thing one would expect from Carr," he said. "The man was a bad lot, and I daresay if we knew all the details of that expedition we should find it less innocent than this Mexican has depicted. Still, leaving the man amongst the Indians was bad enough. So that was how he made his money. I always knew it was not made in any respectable way."
"Few fortunes are," said Herrick dryly.
"That is true; but some methods may be more damnable than others, as in this case. Carr I know went away many years ago, as poor as a rat. I have heard my father speak of him. He came back ten years ago with no end of money. We helped him to invest it. As the income is eight thousand a year Dr. Herrick, you may guess what the principal amounted to. Treasure-hunting sounds innocent enough, even romantic, but in Carr's hands I can guess what a piece of rascality it was. The man could not run straight. If there was a possibility of going the wrong way, he took that in preference to following the right path."
"Still," said Herrick approaching the main object of his visit, "the man had some good points. For instance, he was charitable to Mrs. Joyce."
"Of West Kensington?" said Frith with a stare. "How did you know about her."
"Joyce is a friend of mine. I was with him on a walking-tour when he received your letter asking him to call."
"Nonsense. We never wrote the man a letter in our lives!"
"Not on or about the twenty-third of July?"
"No! I am positive. I should have known. It is true that he called to see us a few days after his mother's death, about the annuity which Carr ordered to be paid to Mrs. Joyce. He wanted to know if he would have it also. We communicated with Colonel Carr, who replied in his characteristic way that Joyce could go to the devil. Afterwards Joyce called a second time and we told him the message."
"The second time was on the twenty-fourth of July?"
"No! It was towards the end of April. We have not seen him since, nor, as I say, have we written him any letter."
This concise explanation showed Herrick that Robin for reasons of his own had told a deliberate lie. Whatever he had come to London about, it was not to see the Solicitors as he had alleged to Herrick. Dr. Jim pulled his moustache reflectively. "Why was an annuity paid to Mrs. Joyce?"
"I don't know," replied Frith, "and even if I did, it would be a breach of professional etiquette to tell you. A year after the Colonel came back to England--about nine years ago--he ordered my father to send a monthly cheque to Mrs. Joyce at an address at Hampstead. She sent a receipt every time, but she never came to see us, and we had absolutely nothing to do with her. When she changed her address, which she did several times, she notified the fact and we sent her allowance to the new place. That is all I know of the annuity. And as I say the Colonel stopped it when she died. What it was for, I don't know. The Colonel was dark in many ways."
"He was evidently a most dangerous person," said, Herrick rising to take his leave. "However he has received the reward of his crimes. By the way I suppose all the business of Marsh is in your hands?"
"Yes! It is all in order. The Colonel was a most methodical man, and left his estate in the best of conditions. We are now arranging for letters patent for this change of name. Our client has arranged to call himself Marsh-Carr. I suppose he did not like the idea of Carr alone."
"Can you wonder at it considering the reputation of the name?"
"No! not a very nice name to give one's wife," laughed Frith rising. "Well good-bye Dr. Herrick. I am glad to have seen you, and still more glad to think that our client has so excellent a friend at his elbow."
Herrick laughed at this praise and departed, very pleased that he had been received in so friendly a way. He fancied at one time that Frith might have looked upon him as an interloper, and it was a great compliment to him, that these shrewd lawyers should be so satisfied with Stephen's choice of a friend.
From the city Herrick went to the Strand in search of the Hull Hotel. He was now very doubtful of Robin's honesty. If the man had lied in one thing he would in another. Jim was quite prepared to find that Joyce was not known at the Strand public-house, but in this instance he proved to be wrong. Directed by a friendly policeman, he soon found the place. It was a small pot-house of anything but a reputable appearance. Herrick stepped inside, and was confronted by a stout woman with a squint. In answer to his inquiry for the landlord, she announced that the house belonged to her, and demanded his business. Herrick seeing the necessity for caution went about his task in an artful way.
"There was a friend of mine who stayed here on the night of the twenty-fourth of July last," he said. "He wrote to me from this place on that date, and as I have received no letter since, I have come to inquire if he is still to be found here?"
"What is his name sir?"
"Mr. Robin Joyce."
"Don't know it," grunted the landlady. "Robin Joyce," she rubbed her nose, and then shouted. "Tilda! Do you know a party as stayed here called Robin Joyce? Look up the books--twenty-fourth July."
A smart-looking girl dressed in a tawdry manner made her appearance and requested her mother (the stout lady was her mother it appeared) not to make such a noise. Then she addressed herself to Herrick. "I need not look at the books sir. I remember Mr. Robin Joyce quite well. A little man is he not--clean-shaven--with rather long hair and big, big black eyes. Nervous manner sir."
"That is him," replied Herrick thankful to hear that his friend was known at the address he had given. "He slept here on the night of the twenty-fourth of July."
"Beg your pardon sir, but he did nothing of the sort. He came here after mid-day with a black bag and engaged a room. Then he went out almost at once, promising to be back to dinner. It was ordered, but he never came. No sir, I did not see him until mid-day next morning."
"You are certain he did not sleep here on that night."
"Quite certain sir. You remember mother, he told both of us when he came back that he had been staying with a friend."
"Yes! I remember now. Then he paid his bill and went away, to catch a train, he said."
"The Paddington train," put in the daughter. "I heard him tell the cabby to drive to Paddington."
Herrick thanked the two women for their information, and asked if Mr. Joyce had been there since. Both were positive he had not. "I saw him only once sir and he did not sleep here," were the last words of the daughter. So Herrick departed fully convinced that Robin had told him a second lie. Naturally the little man never thought that anything would happen likely to induce Herrick to make enquires. Nor would such have been the case, but for Stephen's remark about the annuity.
"The question now," said Herrick to himself, "is whether he was at Saxham on that night. If I can prove that--" he shook his head, and acknowledged that things were beginning to look black against Joyce.
For the moment he almost made up his mind to go at once to West Kensington and tell Joyce the whole story, demanding at the same time an explanation of these--apparently unnecessary lies. But on second thoughts he resolved to wait until he could make certain that Joyce had gone down to Saxham. Robin would probably take the afternoon train to Beorminster. In that case however he would have had to change at Southberry Junction and as Herrick was at the Junction he might not risk doing so. There was Heathcroft of course. That was six miles from Saxham, and could be reached by another line. He might have gone that way and walked the six miles. "But I cannot say anything for certain until I make enquiries," thought Herrick and so resolved to wait until he returned to "The Pines" with Marsh.
The next two or three days Herrick spent with Stephen. Not a word did he say about the business he had been employed upon. He did not even speak of Joyce, tried not to think of him, but gave himself up to the enjoyment of the moment. Owing to his recent bereavement Stephen would not go to any theatre, but the two managed to find amusement in exploring London. With the greatest good humour, Herrick permitted himself to be dragged to the Tower, the Abbey, and to several other places which Stephen had already visited. Also there was much shopping to do, clothes to be tried on, and all kinds of fascinating things to be bought. Stephen purchased a selection of presents for the Biffs, and made Herrick help him to choose them. They arranged to go back at the week's end, when "The Pines" would be ready to receive them.
"I expect it is all in order by this time," said Stephen, "and Ida promised to see after the servants for me. Bess is superintending the whole business. I have told her to do exactly as she pleases, and there is nothing she likes better. We shall find the place in apple-pie order when we go back."
"Why do you not marry Miss Bess?" said Herrick laughing.
"I like Bess very much, but she is not the wife for me," said Stephen seriously. "Ida is better suited to me."
Herrick felt a pang of jealousy. What chance had he against this wealthy favourite of fortune. Then he rebuked himself for the ungrateful feeling and swore if he saw the least love existing between Marsh and Ida that he would at once crush down his own passion. As yet (as he had told Joyce) it was not very strong; but in the sunshine of Ida's beauty and charm, it might easily assume gigantic proportions. If it did, and Stephen loved her, why then good-bye to his income. For Herrick felt that under the circumstances the situation would be so unbearable that he would be forced to leave Saxham. If Stephen would only say definitely if he loved the girl Herrick would know how to act. At present he was quite in the dark. Still until he could be quite sure he judged it wiser to hold himself well in hand.
Later on it occurred to him that he would see Joyce and ask him to come down to Saxham. If he had really committed the murder (and of this there was as yet no proof) he would naturally refuse to come. On the other hand he might dare as much. However, on the whole as straws show which way the wind blows and he knew what a nervous man Joyce was, Herrick thought he would be able to decide by his manner if he really had any dislike to Saxham.
He therefore one afternoon went to West Kensington. By this time he had settled with Grant about his practice, and arranged the manner of payment. His sole business was with Robin, and he went at once to the Mansions. The servant said that Mr. Joyce was absent, but was expected in soon, and that another gentleman was waiting in the drawing-room to see him. Herrick had his suspicions at once, and was not at all surprised to meet the smiling face of Don Manuel Santiago.
"Ah, you have come to see our friend," said the Mexican, shaking Herrick's hand in the most hearty manner. "I also. He will be back shortly."
"How are you Don Manuel?" said Herrick politely. "Well, I hope?"
The speech was obvious, but the fact is Herrick was observing the Mexican from under his eyelids. When Santiago thought himself unobserved he stole glances at his visitor. Apparently he neither liked nor trusted Herrick. The doctor wondered what bond bound Robin and this scamp together. Joyce was a scamp also and worse if his visit to Saxham could be proved. Manuel answered the inquiry with a careless speech and a puzzled look, evidently wondering why it was made. After a time he began to walk restlessly about the room exclaiming that he wanted a cigarette, and he had exhausted his own. Herrick politely offered his case, as he wanted to put the Mexican at his ease and get him to speak, in the hope of learning something from him, but Don Manuel refused the offer.
"I smoke only my own particular kind," he said, "ah! now I remember. I left some in Joyce's study. I will go and look for them. Will you come also, Se?or? We had better smoke in the study. Joyce does not like the smoke in this room--" he cast a look round and shrugged, "this ugly room," said Don Manuel spitefully.
Herrick followed rather because he wished to keep this shifty creature in sight than because he wanted to smoke. Manuel went to the writing table and shifted the papers about. He searched the mantelpiece, and then casting his eyes on a tobacco cabinette walked towards that.
"He had found them and put them in there," said Manuel and pulled open several drawers.
The Cabinet was at Herrick's elbow, and he could see into all the drawers as the Mexican opened them. In the lowest drawer was a pistol. Don Manuel took it out.
"A strange place to keep a revolver," he said. "No, it is not a revolver what can it be--so large--so clumsy, Se?or?"
Herrick took the weapon handed to him while Manuel continued his search for the cigarettes. A frightful suspicion flashed into his mind as he saw the old-fashioned weapon in the Mexican's hand. He remembered that the death wound had been inflicted by a roughly cast bullet, and that at the inquest it was said such had been fired from an antique pistol. Here was the very thing in his hand--an old pistol, silver-mounted, and clumsy in the extreme. The muzzle was large, and could well fire the big bullet that had passed through the heart of Carr to bury itself in the opposite wall. And this was in Joyce's house. Herrick felt sick.
Manuel turned to him with a shrug. "There are no cigarettes here," he said, "Joyce has smoked them. Se?or you look ill--pale."
"It is nothing," replied Herrick, replacing the weapon in the cabinet "I am subject to attacks of faintness. I think Don Manuel, that you had better say nothing, to Joyce about our finding that pistol. He might not like us to be prying into his cabinet."
"As you please," said Santiago with a shrug, "but Joyce would never be angry with me. What is the pistol Se?or?"
"Oh, some old-fashioned weapon that Joyce brought in a curiosity shop very probably," replied the doctor carelessly, "it certainly is not the kind of thing one would use."
"No," replied Don Manuel equally carelessly, "an ugly thing. I will say nothing. A cigarette? Se?or, I will take one of yours. Ah, there is my dear friend Joyce."
While the Mexican was lighting the cigarette Robin entered, and greeted Herrick rather stiffly. It was all Jim could do to bring himself to shake hands with the man he now believed to be a criminal. Yet in spite of all he had learned, in spite of the discovery of the old-fashioned pistol, he could not yet bring himself quite to believe in Robin's guilt. He still hoped for the best, and talked easily enough.
"How pale you are Jim," said Joyce abruptly, "what is the matter?"
"I am so much a countryman now, that London does not agree with me."
Joyce laughed at the joke. "I prefer London myself."
"That is a pity," said Herrick, "for I am returning to Saxham to-morrow, and I want you to come down for a few days next week."
"I shall be delighted," replied Robin at once. "I can put up at The Carr Arms. I do not know Marsh you know."
"I daresay when he meets you he will ask you to stay at 'The Pines,'" said Herrick, "but you will come down Robin? I have seen so little of you, and I do not want our friendship to end so abruptly."
"Certainly. I will come with pleasure," replied Joyce so warmly that Herrick's heart smote him for his treachery. But when he remembered how Joyce had deceived him, how he had led him to the very house in which to all appearance--he had committed a crime, the doctor's heart grew hard and he was quite prepared to play his part and trap this man. He was now beginning to regard Robin as a little reptile extremely dangerous who needed to be crushed.
"I shall come next week," said Joyce gaily, "and if Marsh likes me, he may as you say, ask me to 'The Pines.' You might come also Manuel."
"Perhaps, if I have a day to spare," said the Mexican. "I should like to see the place where my dear friend Carr died."
He glanced at Herrick as he spoke, but the doctor was not attending to him and did not see the look. Tea was being brought in, and Herrick wanted to get away at once. He felt that knowing what he did, he could never break bread with Robin again. He fervently hoped that the man was innocent, but things looked black.
"I must go now Robin," said Herrick hurriedly, "remember you _must_ come."
"I promise. Won't you have tea?"
"No thanks; Marsh expects me. Good-bye until we meet at Saxham. Don Manuel, Adieu!"
"Till we meet at Saxham," said the ready foreigner, and Herrick hurried out of the room and down the stairs. Not till he was in the train did he remember that he should have been wise enough to have secured the pistol as evidence.
"But he may not be guilty after all," said Jim hopefully. His heart told him that he was wrong. The circumstantial evidence was too strong.