The Crowned Skull Page 20

  ‘My dear boy, the diamond was worth five thousand pounds and, moreover, my throwing it away would not have proved me innocent. Bowring fastened his own guilt on me, and Polwin was prepared to swear that I killed the Zulu. I left Africa almost as poor as I went out there, and settled in St. Ewalds. The rest of my life, Dericka, you know from personal observation.’

  ‘But surely Bowring gave you some money?’ said Forde, puzzled.

  ‘A little. I was in his power, as I tell you, as he was in mine. He could prove me guilty of murdering the Zulu, and I could prosecute him with the bills. And then’—Sir Hannibal hesitated—‘I may as well make a clean breast of it, Dericka. I sold Moolu’s diamond to keep things going here, so you see the chances were that had Bowring told his story I should have been proved guilty.’

  ‘How rash!’ sighed the girl, much disturbed by these unpleasant revelations; ‘but how did Mr. Bowring come to the Grange?’

  ‘I made him,’ said Trevick quickly and sharply; ‘things were at a deadlock, so I agreed to wait until Bowring’s death before getting back the money which should rightfully have been mine. In fact, to make him pay for what he had done, I insisted that he should leave me his whole fortune. He did so on the condition that Dericka should marry Morgan, but that condition was not embodied in the will. I made Bowring take the Grange so as to keep him under my own eye, and then Krent came home under the name of Polwin, and as he knew so much I had to engage him as my steward.’

  ‘But see here,’ said Forde, espying a flaw in the story, ‘Moolu believed that Bowring had killed his son.’

  ‘And Moolu was right,’ said Trevick bitterly; ‘he was cleverer than the white men, who believed me guilty. Oh, you need not look so surprised, Dericka,’ he added quickly; ‘there were certain suspicions against me, but with Bowring and Polwin people could prove nothing. But things were sufficiently unpleasant to make me leave Africa.’

  There was a long pause, then Forde spoke.

  ‘The whole thing is very involved, Sir Hannibal, and although you are not free from blame, yet I for one believe you to be innocent. But this Death’s Head?’

  ‘I never knew that Polwin had it,’ said the baronet quickly, ‘and I quite believe that he would try to frighten Bowring with it. Moolu did tell Bowring that when he saw it three times he would die, and in Africa, to my knowledge, he saw it twice.’

  ‘Then it appears to me,’ said Forde slowly, ‘that as Polwin was the sole person who knew of the significance of the Death’s Head, and was the man who used it to prophecy Bowring’s death, that Polwin is the guilty party.’

  Dericka shook her head.

  ‘No,’ she said, with great decision; ‘Polwin seemed puzzled as any of us over Mr. Bowring’s death according to what Jenny overheard. He might have used the Death’s Head to frighten Mr. Bowring, but I don’t see how he could have killed him.’

  ‘What do you think, Sir Hannibal?’ asked Forde, after reflection.

  ‘I agree with Dericka,’ said Trevick promptly. ‘Polwin had more use for Bowring alive than dead. While Bowring lived Polwin could, and did—as I happen to know—get money out of him.’

  ‘Can you suggest anyone who killed him?’

  ‘No; no more than I can suggest who masqueraded as myself.’

  ‘True,’ said Forde dryly, and rising, ‘for if you knew the masquerader you would know, as we should, who is the assassin. Well, Sir Hannibal, after hearing your story I agree with you that it will be best for you to remain here until such time as we can establish your innocence.’

  ‘But how is that to be done?’ asked Dericka, rising also.

  ‘Polwin is the person who can clear things up,’ said Forde, ‘and I intend to speak to him. Perhaps, Sir Hannibal, you can help us to force Polwin’s hand?’

  The baronet shook his head.

  ‘No. I can say nothing against Polwin but what he can say something against me.’

  ‘See here?’ asked Forde sharply; ‘have you told us everything?’

  ‘Yes,’ said the baronet unhesitatingly. ‘I have been foolish, and perhaps even reckless, but I am not a criminal. Go away and think over things, then return and tell me what is best to be done. I am all right here; and, Dericka, bring me a bottle of port wine when you come again.’

  With a heavy heart Dericka promised to do this, and the lovers took their way along the shaft and up the ladder again to the upper world.

  ‘Well?’ she asked Forde, when they were again descending the hill.

  The young man shook his head. ‘I can make nothing of it at present,’ he declared, ‘and talk will only confuse us both further. Let us agree to leave the matter alone for a few days, Dericka, and then things may straighten themselves out.’

  ‘But my father?’

  ‘He will be all right where he is,’ said Forde, and no more was said for the time being.

  And indeed next day they heard something which introduced a new element into the already mysterious case. The information came from no less a person than Mrs. Krent.

  That good lady appeared at the Dower House late in the afternoon in a great state of perturbation, and asked to see Miss Trevick.

  As luck would have it, Forde also was on the spot, paying his usual visit, and Mrs. Krent was ushered into the library, wherein the two lovers sat. Miss Quinton, feeling that two was company and three none, had gone out to pay a round of visits, so the lovers were quite alone. Dericka glanced nervously at Forde when she beheld the bulky form of Mrs. Krent.

  ‘I hope,’ said the housekeeper, throwing back her bonnet strings, and looking redder than ever, ‘that you, sir, and your young lady believe me when I say that I care nothing for money.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Forde signing that Dericka should be silent; ‘I think that is so, seeing how moderate your demands for money have been.’

  ‘Well, then,’ said Mrs. Krent, producing a blue envelope, ‘you could have knocked me down with a feather when I came across this,’ and she handed the document to Forde.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Dericka, while Forde opened the envelope.

  ‘My dear young lady, it’s a second will leaving everything to Morgan Bowring. Your father takes nothing, Morgan gets all.’

  Chapter XIX What Happened Next

  Forde stopped opening the blue envelope when Mrs. Krent made this amazing announcement as to the new disposal of Bowring’s property, and, together with Dericka, stared at the messenger of ill tidings.

  The stout, elderly housekeeper, who was still attired in the incongruous costume which she loved, fanned her red face with a flimsy handkerchief and arranged her dyed yellow curls under the juvenile bonnet. Blandly surveying the astonished lovers, she continued her monologue.

  ‘You could have knocked me down with a feather,’ she repeated, when she could get her breath, ‘when I came across that second will’—she nodded towards the blue envelope in Forde’s hand—‘in a desk which was in Mr. Bowring’s room. I was just putting it tidy-like, and pulled out all the drawers to dust them, when in the top one on the right-hand side I saw the envelope: sealed, it was, and then found that Mr. Bowring had made a second will. There’s a note with it,’ added Mrs. Krent, gasping for breath. ‘If you read it, sir, you will see that Bowring’s repented leaving the money to Sir Hannibal, but says that he was compelled to do so. However, since he’s dead, nothing matters, and he wanted to show Sir Hannibal that he would not be trifled with. He asks me also to be a friend to Morgan, which I’m sure I am, seeing he’s married to my dear Jenny, though to be sure, Bowring never guessed that such was the case.’

  Again she gasped, and this time, being really out of breath, held her clacking tongue for the moment. Dericka was wise enough to say nothing, and Forde silently took out the new will. It was written on a sheet of foolscap, and seemed legal enough, seeing that it was duly attested and w witnessed. In this document, which was short and to the point, John Bowring had left the money to his son Morgan, but if was held in trust by Mrs. Krent, who was to
receive one thousand a year for her trouble. In the note which was inside the will, and addressed to the housekeeper, Bowring wrote that Mrs. Krent was his only friend, that he was in the power of Sir Hannibal, and would have to leave the money to him or else face a law court on account of certain forged bills. He had made such a will in order to satisfy Trevick, but in the enclosed document—a later-executed testament—had left the money to his son, as was only right. There were a few expressions of satisfaction showing that Bowring was glad he had succeeded in cheating the baronet, and there the latter ended with the bold signature of the millionaire and two names of witnesses. These were badly written, and proved as Forde afterwards learned, to be those of two servants who worked at the Grange.

  ‘Well,’ said the young barrister, when he had made himself acquainted with this document and had replaced it in the blue envelope, ‘I must say this is a nice state of things.’

  ‘But no more than Sir Hannibal deserves,’ cried Mrs. Krent in a defensive manner. ‘He had no right to force Bowring to leave the money away from Morgan.’

  ‘Not all of it, perhaps,’ assented the young barrister, ‘but you must be aware, Mrs. Krent, that part of this sixty thousand a year belongs to Sir Hannibal Trevick.’

  ‘I don’t see that at all, sir,’ she retorted, ‘seeing that Bowring made every penny by the sweat of his brow.’

  ‘Humph! I rather think it was other people who sweated, Mrs. Krent.’

  ‘How do you know, sir?’

  ‘Because I happen to have seen Sir Hannibal.’

  ‘Then you know where he is, sir?’ asked Mrs. Krent suspiciously.

  The young lawyer saw that he had made a mistake, and, colouring with vexation, held his tongue.

  Dericka, who was watchful of his emotion, entered the breach and addressed herself to the stout house-keeper.

  ‘Mrs. Krent,’ she said, in a cold and icy tone, ‘you must be aware that my father is wrongly accused?’

  ‘If he did not murder Bowring, who did?’ snapped the other.

  ‘Ah, that is what we have to learn. But I can tell you with safety that my father is hiding, and that Mr. Forde and myself know where his hiding-place is.’

  Mrs. Krent gave an odd cough. ‘I wonder you ain’t afraid to say this to me, Miss, seeing as I may tell the police.’

  ‘I don’t think you will,’ answered Dericka, fixing a steady gaze on the woman. ‘I said that I could tell you with safety.’

  ‘You’ve got no hold over me,’ retorted Mrs. Krent fiercely.

  ‘I may not have, but another person may be able to silence you.’

  ‘And that other person, if you please, Miss Trevick?’

  ‘Josiah Polwin.’

  The colour ebbed from the fat cheeks of the house keeper, and she turned as pale as a lily, glancing from one to the other in a state of scarcely concealed alarm. However, she made a bold attempt to foil the attack. ‘What has Mr. Polwin to do with me, Miss?’

  ‘Ah, you can best explain that.’

  ‘I can’t,’ said Mrs. Krent obstinately.

  ‘Then let me explain,’ said Forde, seeing what Dericka meant. ‘As Mr. Polwin, this man is nothing to you, but as Samuel Krent—’

  The woman rose and flapped her hands helplessly. ‘Oh, what are you saying—why do you speak to me like this? My husband is dead.’

  ‘Under the name of Josiah Polwin,’ said Forde calmly.

  ‘It’s a lie.’

  ‘It is the truth, and you can prove it.’

  ‘Then I won’t.’

  Forde rose, shrugged his shoulders, and slipped the blue envelope containing the new will into his breast-pocket. ‘Then there’s no more to be said,’ he remarked blandly.

  ‘Of course there ain’t,’ cried Mrs. Krent, reassured. ‘Give me back the will and let me go.’

  ‘No,’ said Forde steadily; ‘I’ll take this up to Mr. Gratton and see if it’s genuine.’

  ‘Genuine!’ The colour flushed Mrs. Krent’s cheeks. ‘Oh, Lord, sir, you don’t think Polwin—I mean—’

  ‘You mean Polwin right enough,’ said Dericka, noticing the slip, and taking advantage of it at once. ‘Mrs. Krent, we may as well understand one another before you leave this room.’

  The big woman sat down with a thump and flapped her hands like a clumsy.

  ‘I’m sure I don’t know what to do,’ she whimpered. ‘I’m sure there’s been nothing but trouble since Bowring died. I never did care for money. Me and Morgan and Jenny can live well enough on the two thousand a year you promised me, Miss, so you can destroy the will and keep the rest.’

  ‘No,’ said Forde sternly. ‘If this will,’ he tapped his breast-pocket, ‘is genuine, the money will go to you in trust for Morgan.’

  ‘You would let the money go?’ asked Mrs. Krent, her little pig’s eyes opening to their widest. Such an action was beyond her system of ethics, and she collapsed.

  ‘Yes. Why should Miss Trevick or her father keep money which does not belong to them?’

  ‘But you said it did, sir?’

  ‘Half of it, not all. But if the will is genuine then Morgan will get everything and Sir Hannibal will lose what is rightfully his.’

  ‘What do you want me to do sir?’ asked the housekeeper after a pause.

  ‘What do you wish to do yourself?’ demanded Forde quickly.

  ‘Well, sir, you and her—I mean that young lady—have been so kind to me when I hadn’t that second will, that I’m ready to place myself in your hands. I only want enough to be comfortable, and as this is a world of wickedness, sir, I hope you’ll be my friend and help me out of my many difficulties.’

  ‘About the money, Mrs. Krent?’

  ‘Yes, sir; and there it is,’ she cried, with a burst of emotion; ‘as soon as folks know that Morgan is rich they’ll come round trying to get money, and he’ll get beyond control. I’m sure it’s hard enough to manage him as it is, but if he, with his poor wits, thinks he is rich he’ll simply kick over the traces and leave me and my poor girl. I’m afraid—very much afraid.’

  Mrs. Krent appeared to be genuine, for, so far as she knew, she possessed the whip hand, yet was willing to be guided by Forde.

  Dericka softened somewhat at this, as she perceived that the housekeeper was really an honest woman. She therefore went to the door to be sure that no one was outside, then came back to the chair she occupied near Mrs. Krent, who by this time was shaking like a jelly. ‘Mrs. Krent, you husband—’

  ‘He’s dead—he’s dead—’

  ‘No! Listen. Mr. Forde and myself know everything.’ And Dericka related all that Jenny had overheard and told. ‘We want to be your friends,’ concluded Miss Trevick, ‘and as you have proved that you really have a good heart, Mr. Forde shall help you.’

  Poor Mrs. Krent sat staring straight in front of her with two fat hands on her fat knees. When Dericka stopped speaking she heaved a portentous sigh.

  ‘All the help in the world won’t do much good against Samuel, Miss,’ she said sadly, ‘he’s a devil.’

  ‘There’s law in the land to restrain such devils,’ Forde reassured her; ‘don’t be afraid, Mrs. Krent, he’ll not trouble you.’

  ‘If you can get him out of my life sir, I’ll go on my knees,’ cried the housekeeper vehemently. ‘For the moment I was vexed at Jenny telling you and betraying her mother, as it were, but now I see that it is the best thing that she could have done, although it would never have struck me, fool that I am. But now you know what a devil Polwin is, and that his real name is not Polwin, perhaps you’ll help?’

  ‘I promise you I will,’ said the lawyer, soothingly, ‘but you must be plain with me, Mrs. Krent.’

  ‘You have only to ask and to have, sir.’

  ‘Then tell me, when did you see Polwin last?’

  ‘No later than to-day. He came along this morning and said that Bowring had some papers of his connected with South Africa. I promised to send them to him and that is what took me to the desk to look. In looking I
found the will.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Forde with satisfaction; ‘and was Mr. Polwin in the house by himself during the morning?’

  ‘No, sir. I wouldn’t let him enter. He stood at the door and talked in his devilish way. Why, sir?’

  ‘I thought that he might have hidden this will.’

  ‘Lord, sir, why should he do that? If Polwin—I’ll call him that, for I’ll never soil the name I bear by giving it to him, although it is his own—but I say, if Polwin had that will and knew that I had the management of the money he would have kept the will and bothered me to give him what he wanted. And tons of gold,’ added Mrs. Krent, fervently, ‘wouldn’t satisfy that beast.’