The Crowned Skull Page 9

  ‘But I don’t like her, Aunty.’

  ‘Neither do I. All the same, I have nothing to say against her. She is decent enough, although her career has been a somewhat Bohemian one. Now that your father has this money she’ll marry him. It would have been better had your father remained poor and free. However, my dear Dericka, there is nothing to be said. You marry Oswald, and out of this Bowring money your father can well afford to give you a magnificent income.’

  ‘But father’s talk about my marriage with Morgan?’

  ‘H’m!’ said the maiden lady; ‘I don’t understand that.’

  They discussed the matter at length, but could come to no conclusion, since they were in the dark as regards Sir Hannibal’s conversation with the housekeeper. Dericka was also in the dark on that particular point, although she knew that Sir Hannibal had been driven by a popular demonstration from St. Ewalds. It was this, she guessed, that her father intended to speak about to Forde, and her heart leaped as she thought that Sir Hannibal intended to ask for Forde’s assistance.

  That would only be given on condition that Sir Hannibal sanctioned the engagement, so Dericka thought that her course of true love would run smoothly after all. She was on the point of explaining this to her aunt, when she remembered how she had protested that her father had not enlightened her as to the reason of his coming to London. If she admitted what had been told her in the train, Miss Lavinia would probably accuse her of deceit, and there would be trouble.

  She therefore judged it best to pretend ignorance and to let Sir Hannibal tell his story to Forde and the spinster in his own way. Dericka had not intended to wilfully deceive her aunt, but Miss Lavinia was so very difficult to handle—a prickly thorn, in fact—that she had been hurried into a denial without thinking.

  However, things went on very smoothly until Forde arrived. Miss Lavinia gave father and daughter afternoon tea in the most fragile of china, and refrained from hinting at her suspicions regarding Miss Anne Stretton. She made herself so agreeable, in fact, that the baronet, not thinking what lay behind the smooth, bland mask, thought it would be easy to announce his intended marriage, particularly as on that hung the future of Dericka with Forde.

  Forgetting nearly how he had been driven from his home—Sir Hannibal had a wonderfully forgetful temper—he expanded in the amiable atmosphere of the spinster’s house until Miss Lavinia said to herself privately that her despised brother-in-law was really a fascinating man. Dericka also was pleased to see the wrinkles of vexation vanish from her father’s brow; and when the barrister arrived, the party of three were all merry and genial.

  Oswald looked slim and dark and handsome in his dress clothes, and he greeted Dericka with great fervour. Sir Hannibal also was in evening dress, as he had managed to get a suit from somewhere—from his tailor, in fact.

  That tradesman had made clothes for his customer, but, not having been paid, he had retained them. Sir Hannibal, however, had announced his succession to a fortune and had paid the bill with money received from Mr. Gratton, so the tailor had handed over the new and fashionably-made suit.

  Sir Hannibal never said anything about this, and Miss Lavinia wondered how he had procured dress clothes which fitted him so well. However, she refrained from making further comment on his want of luggage, and mentally observed that London did not contain any finer specimens of young and old men than Sir Hannibal and the barrister.

  After the first greetings were over Forde asked what happy chance had brought Dericka and her father to London.

  Sir Hannibal would then and there have related all, but Miss Lavinia insisted that dinner should not be upset by any fevered discussion. Only when dinner was over—and a very good dinner it was—and the quartette were gathered in the drawing-room sipping coffee, did the maiden lady nod in the direction of her brother-in-law.

  ‘Now, then, Hannibal,’ said she, sitting up alertly, ‘you can tell us what brought you to London.’

  ‘I have been driven from St. Ewalds,’ said the baronet bluntly.

  ‘Driven from St. Ewalds?’ cried the spinster, and Forde echoed her.

  ‘Yes.’ Sir Hannibal gave a detailed description of all that had taken place, and how Miss Stretton had driven him to the Gwynne railway station to escape the fury of the quarrymen. Miss Lavinia nodded her approval.

  ‘Anne has a head on her shoulders,’ said she; ‘you might do worse.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Sir Hannibal colouring.

  ‘I have eyes in my head, and I know Anne very well,’ retorted Miss Lavinia. ‘She doesn’t do any thing without expecting payment.’

  ‘You wrong her, Lavinia; you wrong her. She is as simple as a child.’

  ‘You are, you mean, Hannibal. However, we can discuss that later. What is to be done? Your position is really very disagreeable.’

  ‘Lavinia, you don’t accuse me of murder?’

  ‘If I did you wouldn’t be sitting in my drawing-room,’ said the old lady sharply. ‘No. You are foolish in many ways, and why my poor sister married you I can’t tell. However, we must get you out of this difficulty, that is certain. Oswald?’

  ‘I am at Sir Hannibal’s service,’ said the barrister. ‘The position, as you say, Miss Quinton, is difficult.’

  ‘I said disagreeable.’

  ‘Well, then both disagreeable and difficult,’ broke in Dericka impatiently. ‘What is to be done?’

  ‘Only one thing can be done,’ said Forde very decisively. ‘I must learn who killed Bowring, and prove the innocence of your father.’

  ‘That will not be easy,’ said Sir Hannibal.

  ‘Perhaps not; but things can be made plainer if you will tell me all you know about Bowring.’

  ‘There is very little to tell. I did business with him in Africa.’

  ‘What sort of business?’

  ‘It was connected with diamonds,’ muttered the baronet reluctantly.

  ‘And Bowring treated you badly?’ remarked Miss Lavinia keenly; ‘at least you said so to me several times.’

  ‘Bowring was a scoundrel,’ cried Sir Hannibal much agitated, ‘but he has made amends by leaving me his money.’

  ‘On condition that I marry Morgan?’ said Dericka.

  ‘No. You heard the will read yourself, Dericka. That was only a suggestion on the part of Bowring.’

  ‘And one you wish to carry out,’ snapped Miss Lavinia, tartly.

  ‘What?’ cried Forde, turning red and looking from Miss Lavinia to the baronet in an anxious manner.

  ‘Permit me to explain,’ said Sir Hannibal hastily, and detailed the conversation with Mrs. Krent.

  Dericka was much surprised. Nevertheless, she objected to be made a catspaw for Sir Hannibal’s safety, even though the position was perilous.

  ‘Besides,’ she added, after raising some objections, ‘I don’t see, father, how any such announcement would help you.’

  ‘It would show that the money was left to me in trust for you and Morgan, my dear.’

  ‘You would have to make over the money to him, then?’

  ‘No. Because Mrs. Krent would come forward and tell of the marriage with her daughter.’

  Miss Lavinia sniffed.

  ‘It seems a very roundabout way,’ she observed. ‘I think the best thing to be done, Hannibal, will be for Mr. Forde, here, to take up the case and clear your character.’

  ‘I am willing—on conditions,’ said Forde, and looked at Dericka.

  Sir Hannibal bit his lip. He was not very anxious to make Forde his son-in-law, as, now that he was rich, he wanted Dericka to strengthen the Trevick family by making a titled alliance. However, he was in such a difficult position that he had to consent; and he did so the more willingly as he wanted someone in the family to delve into his past rather than a stranger. With this in mind he nodded.

  ‘I am willing that you should marry Dericka as soon as my character is cleared,’ he said reluctantly.

  Forde rose with a joyful exclamation and, clasping D
ericka in his arms, kissed her fondly.

  ‘Your character will be cleared in a month, Sir Hannibal,’ he said determinedly.

  ‘H’m!’ murmured Miss Lavinia.

  She was watching the baronet’s face, and did not approve of the nervous, agitated look thereon.

  Chapter IX The Steward’s Story

  Oswald Forde was not displeased at the chance which had turned him into an amateur detective, since he was a briefless barrister who found time hang rather heavily on his hands. He was extremely clever, and possessed a small income, so he waited patiently hoping that clients would in due course come to his door.

  As yet, few had made their appearance, so Forde wanted some occupation upon which to break his active mind. To solve a mystery was pleasant, especially as its solution meant the gaining of a beautiful wife with a substantial dowry. Forde was romantic, but also he was modern enough to appreciate the advantages of money being joined by love. He therefore readily assumed the position assigned to him, and prepared to start for St. Ewalds the day after that momentous conversation.

  Then, to his surprise, Miss Quinton declared that she would come also so as to chaperone Dericka. The girl wished to return to St. Ewalds, if only to show that she despised the feeling which had driven her father from the town.

  To do Sir Hannibal justice, he was also willing to return, but Forde strongly advised him to remain in town until the mystery was solved. The quarrymen were not capable of receiving truths unless these were made extremely plain to their somewhat dull minds, and would probably made another assault on the Dower House. When the true murderer of John Bowring was discovered then the maligned baronet could go back and pose as a martyr.

  Dericka, however, insisted upon returning, and Miss Quinton, for obvious reasons, insisted upon coming also.

  ‘It won’t do for you and Mr. Forde to travel alone,’ said Miss Quinton; ‘you know how people gossip, Dericka!’

  ‘I despise gossip,’ exclaimed Dericka indignantly.

  ‘So do I. All the same, one can’t ignore it if one wants life to be pleasant. It was gossip which drove Sir Hannibal from St. Ewalds.’

  Dericka assented. ‘Though I can’t understand anyone so silly as to believe that papa had anything to do with the matter. He was at the fete about the time the crime occurred.’

  ‘You can’t be sure of that, my dear.’

  ‘Aunty! You don’t believe—’

  ‘My dear, I believe nothing against your father. Whatever Hannibal may be, he certainly is too good-natured a man to commit a crime. But you know from what he said last night that he left the grounds after Miss Stretton and Mr. Penrith drove away and went down to the beach. No one saw him there as the place was deserted, so he cannot prove an alibi. When did you see him again on that day?’

  ‘Not until dinner, Aunty. I was looking for him at the time Mr. Bowring started for the Grange as I wanted to confront him with Mr. Bowring about this proposed marriage with Morgan. I could not find papa, however—’

  ‘Of course not; he was walking on the beach.’

  ‘Then he must have walked there for some hours, for he did not appear until dinner was on the table.’

  ‘Did you ask him where he had been?’

  ‘No. Papa dislikes being questioned; and then during the dinner came the news of that terrible death, and I never thought of asking questions. Why should I have thought,’ demanded Dericka indignantly, ‘seeing that I never doubted my own father’s innocence?’

  ‘No one doubts it now, dear,’ said Miss Lavinia, soothingly. ‘It is only that horrid Mrs. Krent who started the rumour, and no doubt she is sorry now.’

  ‘I don’t see any reason why she need be sorry.’

  ‘I do,’ replied the old lady tartly, ‘if she cannot discredit her own story. Hannibal certainly will not pay her the income he promised.’

  ‘Yes, he will,’ contradicted Miss Trevick, quickly. ‘Oswald thinks it will be as well to say that I am to marry Morgan, so that people may think Mr. Bowring left the money to him in trust for both of us, and so do away with any possible motive for the commission of the crime by papa. And unless Mrs. Krent is paid the one thousand a year she will refuse to state where her daughter was married to Morgan, and, then, oh—’ Dericka shuddered.

  ‘The question is whether such a marriage did take place. However, Mr. Forde can see Mrs. Krent.’

  ‘He intends to see everyone, and will begin with Polwin.’

  ‘That is Hannibal’s steward?’

  ‘Yes. He came from Africa, where papa knew him very well.’

  ‘Your father seems to have known many people in Africa,’ observed Miss Lavinia, dryly, ‘and not reputable people, either.’

  ‘Oh, Polwin is reputable enough,’ said Dericka cheerfully; ‘a quiet and timid man. He superintended the preparations for the fete, and Oswald wishes to learn if he knows anything of that death’s head.’

  ‘I should think Miss Warry would know of that.’

  ‘Oh, dear me, no, Aunty. She saw the skull, and fancied papa had placed it there, which he did not. Who placed it there, and why it should have been brought to the tent, is as strange as the fact that Mr. Bowring was afraid of it.’

  Miss Lavinia applied herself to her smelling-bottle.

  ‘It is all very strange and very unpleasant,’ she said with a shrug; ‘however, the only thing I can do I am doing, and that is to support you at the Dower House during the enforced absence of your father.’

  This conversation took place in the railway carriage, while the Cornish express rushed westward. Forde had gone to the smoking compartment for twenty minutes, so Dericka and her aunt had an opportunity of talking; but the discussion, as can be seen, had ended in a somewhat futile manner. However, one thing was clear to the girl, that Miss Quinton would stand by her in the very trying position in which she was placed. It was not very nice to return home as the daughter of a suspected murderer.

  Forde took up his quarters at the ‘King’s Arms’, an excellent hotel in the heart of the town He could have gone to a more fashionable place on the brow of the hill, which overlooked St. Ewalds, but purposely remained near the market-place—where the ‘King’s Arms’ was situated—so that he might hear any gossip, and be on the spot to contradict it should it touch on the supposed guilt of Sir Hannibal Trevick. The hotel was comfortable, and Forde being a pleasant young man soon made himself a favourite with the chattering landlady. But that important personage was too discreet to repeat tittle-tattle, even although Forde had known her for five years, from the time he had first come to St. Ewalds. Aware of her long tongue, without doors if not inside, he judged that she would be the best person to spread the news of a possible marriage between Dericka and Morgan Bowring.

  ‘I suppose you have heard the news, Mrs. Tregar?’ said the artful barrister, when the landlady came to his sitting-room to see if he was perfectly comfortable.

  ‘No, sir. What is it, if I may make so bold as to ask?’

  ‘The late Mr. Bowring left all his money to Sir Hannibal Trevick—’

  ‘Oh, I know that, sir.’

  ‘In trust,’ went on Forde impressively, ‘for Miss Dericka and Morgan Bowring, when they marry.’

  Mrs. Tregar threw up her hands. ‘Lord, sir, you do astonish me. I thought you were to be the happy man.’

  ‘So did I,’ replied Forde, heaving an ostentatious sigh. ‘Miss Trevick and myself are very much in love with one another, but by a family arrangement she is to marry Morgan; that is why Sir Hannibal got the money—in trust, remember.’

  ‘Oh, indeed, sir. I thought—I thought—well, you see, sir, everyone, knowing that Sir Hannibal is hard up, thought that he had murdered Mr. Bowring to get the money.’

  ‘What nonsense. Why, even if Sir Hannibal had committed such a crime—which, mind you, Mrs. Tregar, is not at all probable—he would not have got the money.’

  ‘But it is said, sir, that Mr. Bowring told Sir Hannibal at the fete that he had made a will in his fav
our, and then Sir Hannibal killed—’

  Forde did not allow her to finish, but burst into a hearty laugh.

  ‘I never heard such rubbish,’ said he with a shrug; ‘why, Mrs. Tregar, where are your brains and those of the people hereabouts? Sir Hannibal did not leave the fete, and was in his own house when the crime was committed. Besides, an old man like that could scarcely get to such an out-of-the-way place quicker than a powerful motor-car.’

  ‘Begging your pardon, sir,’ contradicted Mrs. Tregar, swelling with importance, ‘but they do say that Sir Hannibal left the fete long before Mr. Bowring did, and went by a different route to the place on his motor-bike. And we know,’ she added with emphasis, ‘that Sir Hannibal does ride a motor-bike.’