Chapter 14

Who is Guilty?

Dr. Japix was a bachelor, and therefore, by all the laws of domesticity, should have been badly served as far as regards home comforts; but then Dr. Japix had a good housekeeper so was served excellently well in every respect. For instance, his dinners were famous for the quality of the food and wines, as Fanks and his friend Axton found by practical experience when they dined with their unwedded host. He gave them a capital meal, undeniable wine, and as all three men were good conversationalists, they had a very delightful dinner. Afterwards, they went to the Doctor's study, a particularly comfortable room, and smoked wonderfully good cigars over first-rate coffee.

The study was a private snuggery especially affected by the Doctor, who had in it all his books, a few comfortable chairs, an enticing-looking writing-table, some good etchings by eminent artists, and plenty of warm red draperies to keep out the cold winds so general in Ironfields. On this night there was a blazing fire in the polished grate, and around it sat Japix and his two guests, enjoying the soothing weed and talking about the Jarlchester case. Luckily, Japix was perfectly free on this special night, and unless some unexpected call should be made on him, was permitted by those hard laws which regulate the lives of medical men to enjoy his smoke and talk to his friends as he pleased. All three had plenty to say, and as the night wore on towards the small hours, they gradually began to talk of Melstane's murder, a topic to which everything had been tending for a considerable time. It is true that they had referred to it in a desultory fashion, but it was not until ten o'clock that they settled down to a steady analysis of the case.

"Most extraordinary," said Japix, in his subdued roar; "reflects great credit on you, Fanks, for the way in which you have found it out."

"I've not got to the end of my journey yet," replied Octavius, grimly, "so I won't holloa till I'm out of the wood."

"You're out of the Jarlchester wood, at all events."

"Yes, only to plunge into the deeper recesses of the Ironfields wood."

"Well," said Axton, reflectively, "you've proved conclusively that I did not commit the crime."

"You!" shouted Japix, in amazement.

"Yes, I!" replied Roger, serenely. "Just fancy, Doctor, you are sitting with a suspected murderer."

"Not now," remonstrated Fanks, good-humouredly; "if I did suspect you for a moment, you soon cleared yourself in my eyes. But you must admit things looked black against you."

"So black," assented Axton, quickly, "that had the detective been any other than yourself, I should now be in prison awaiting my trial on a charge of attempted murder."

"Possibly," answered Fanks, lighting a fresh cigar; "not only that but even probably. However, you have proved your innocence, and Spolger has proved his."

"Did you suspect him also?" asked the Doctor, chuckling. "I thought as much from your questions to-day, Monsieur Fouché."

"Well, he had the fatal pill-box in his possession; he uses morphia for his Soothers; he hated Melstane, so altogether--"

"There was a very nice little case against him," finished Japix, with a gigantic laugh. "Oh, I know your profession Monsieur Lecoq; I have read Gaboriau's romances."

"I'm afraid we're not so infallible as the great Lecoq."

"Pooh! why not? I dare say he's modelled on Vidocq. At all events, you've now got an enigma which would delight Monsieur Gaboriau."

"Real life is more difficult than fiction."

"There you are wrong. Fiction is a reflection of real life--a holding of the mirror up to Nature. Eh--author?"

"Shakespeare," said Octavius, promptly, "and quoted wrongly."

"Never mind; the spirit if not the form is there."

"We've strayed from the subject," observed Axton, smiling, "regarding this case. Since Spolger and myself are innocent, who is guilty?"

"Ask something easier."

"Do you know, my good Vidocq," remarked Japix, contemplating his large feet, "that I wonder you have not turned your attention to Monsieur Judas."

"I have done so," said Octavius, quietly; "but I can bring nothing home to him. He's very clever."

"A scoundrel's virtue."

"Yes, and a scoundrel's safety."

"Didn't you tell me the other day that you thought Judas held all the threads of the case in his hand?" said Roger, turning to Fanks.

"I fancy I said something like that," replied Octavius, slowly; "but, if I mistake not, you had suspicions of Judas yourself."

"Had," said Roger, emphatically; "no, have! I have suspicions of Judas, and I'm pretty sure--"

"That he committed the murder," finished the Doctor.

"Oh, I'm not prepared to go that far," said Fanks, quickly; "but as regards Monsieur Guinaud, I'll tell you one thing. It's the custom, I understand, for the master to check the assistant with regard to the number of pills in a box."

"Yes; that is the usual custom."

"Well, I understood from Judas that such was the case with Melstane's tonic pills. Having my suspicions, however, I went and saw Wosk myself."

"And what did he say?"

"That he counted the pills in the box and then handed it back to Judas--open."

"Oh," said Axton, suddenly, "then you think it was Judas put the two extra pills in the box?"

"He might have done so."

"But what would be his motive in getting rid of Melstane?"

"Ah, there's no difficulty in answering that," replied Fanks, quickly. "It appears Judas loves Miss Marson to distraction; Melstane stood in his way, so he might have got rid of him by the pill method."

"Granted," said Japix, eagerly; "but even if he did remove Melstane by that morphia method, he would be no nearer the object of his love than before. A chemist's assistant is not a fitting match for the heiress of Francis Marson."

"True, true!"

"Besides," said Axton, taking up the defence, "why should Judas take the trouble to kill Melstane at Jarlchester when he could have done so at Ironfields?"

"Oh, that's merely a question of safety," replied Octavius, thoughtfully. "If Melstane had died here, awkward questions might have been asked, which would have been difficult for Guinaud to answer; but at Jarlchester the man dies, and there is nothing to connect Judas or any one else with the death. That pill idea is a devilish ingenious one."

"Quite worthy of a Frenchman!"

"Pooh! the virtuous English can easily hold their own in that respect; for every extraordinary case in Paris I can find you an equivalent in London."

"By the way," cried Japix, suddenly deserting the line of conversation in favour of a new one, "I went to see Miss Marson to-day; she's very ill, you know."

"My fault," said Roger, regretfully, "blurting out the fact of Melstane's death."

"Well, go on," said Fanks, impatiently; "what were you going to say, Japix?"

"That I visited Miss Marson to-day."

"You've said that. What else?"

"And I saw her father, who told me a most extraordinary thing."

"Wait a bit," said the detective, with great excitement. "I'll bet you a fiver that I can tell you what he told you."

"The deuce you can!" replied Japix, in astonishment. "Well, I'll take the bet. Marson said?"

"That Judas had written him asking him for an interview."

"Right! How the--no, I won't swear. But how, by all that's sacred, did you find that out?"

"And Judas also said it was about some documents."

"Right again! I believe you are a magician, Fanks."

"Not at all--inductive reasoning."

"I wish you'd stop talking riddles," broke in Roger, irritably, "and tell us what the deuce you mean."

"It won't be very pleasant--to your ears."

"Go on. I know what you're going to say," said Roger, excitedly, "but don't mind me. I'm going to know the truth about this business."

Japix looked at his two guests with astonishment depicted on his broad, good-humoured face, but judged it best to say nothing until Octavius explained matters, which he did speedily.

"My dear Japix," he said, quietly, "there was a packet of letters which Roger obtained from Melstane at Jarlchester and forwarded to Miss Varlins, addressed to her by her first name."

"Miss Judith!"

"Precisely! Well, that stupid old postmistress muddled up the name with that of Judas, and sent the packet to him. We met Miss Varlins, and went together to get the packet from Guinaud. I asked her to let me see the packet. She refused at first, but ultimately consented on condition that I let her look over the letters first. I agreed to that, she did so, and I found nothing."

"Well, well!" said Japix, quickly, "I don't see anything strange in that."

"Don't you? I do! If there had been nothing particular in that packet, Miss Varlins would not have objected to my seeing it. So my belief is that Judas abstracted the letters he did not want me to see, and has gone to Marson to show them to him."

"Well!"

"Well!" repeated Fanks, angrily, "don't you see? Those letters, stolen by Judas, bear indirectly on the death of Melstane."

"If that is the case, why should Judas show them to Marson?"

Fanks fidgeted uneasily in his chair, looked at the floor, the ceiling, the Doctor, everywhere but at Roger.

"I really can't tell," he said at length, very lamely.

"Yes, you can," shouted Roger, rising quickly; "you suspect--"

"I have said no name," replied Fanks, very pale, rising in his turn.

"No, but I will!"

"Roger!"

"I will tell you, and I declare it's a lie--a lie!"

"Good heavens!" cried Japix, rising, "what does this mean?"

He looked at both men for an answer, and obtained it from Roger:

"It means that my old schoolfellow suspects the woman I love of a crime."

"Judith Varlins!"

"Yes; Judith Varlins!"

Japix looked at Fanks to see if he would repeat the accusation, but the detective said nothing.

"My dear Axton, you're dreaming," he said, soothingly. "I'd as soon think of suspecting myself."

Roger seized the large hand of the Doctor and shook it heartily.

"Thank Heaven there is some one believes her innocent," he said, with a half sob.

"Tut, tut!" answered the Doctor, quietly, "sit down, my dear boy, sit down. There must be some explanation of this."

"If Roger would not be so impetuous," said Fanks, who had resumed his seat, "I would like to tell him something."

Roger looked at his friend with a gleam of hope in his eye, and sat down in sullen silence.

"You yourself say I suspect Miss Varlins," explained Fanks, with faint hesitation, "simply because I said Judas had taken certain documents to Marson. How do you know that I may not suspect some one else?"

"Whom?"

"Miss Varlins," observed Fanks, leisurely, "may, for all we know, be acting a very noble part, and may be trying to screen another person--for instance, Mr. Francis Marson."

"What?" shouted Japix and Roger in one breath.

"I'm not certain--by no means certain; but I have my suspicions."

"Of Marson?" said Japix, scornfully; "pooh! nonsense! There isn't a more respected man in Ironfields."

"It's generally your respected persons who fancy they can sin with impunity, and not be found out on account of that very respectability. May I ask you a few questions, Japix?"

"By all means."

"Why did Marson want his pretty daughter to marry that ugly wreck of a Spolger?"

Japix hesitated a moment before answering.

"I know nothing for a fact," he said at length, with great reluctance, "but common rumour--"

"Common rumour by all means. There's no smoke without fire."

"A detestable proverb," said Japix, frowning. "Well, rumour says that Marson will smash if money is not put into his business, and that Florry Marson was to be the price of Spolger finding for Marson & Son the requisite money."

"I think that's the most powerful reason for the crime we've had yet."

Neither of his listeners answered this remark, as they seemed instinctively to feel that the fatal net was closing round Marson through the relentless logic of the detective.

"In the case of Axton," resumed Fanks, coolly, "the motive for the crime appeared to be love. In the case of Spolger, love. In the case of Judas, love. All very well, but hardly a strong enough motive to make a man put a rope round his neck. In this case of Marson, however, what do we find? Bankruptcy, loss of position, loss of money, loss of name, in fact, loss of everything that a man holds most dear. A strong motive, I think."

"I can't stand this," cried Roger, jumping up quickly; "confound it, Fanks, you'd argue the man guilty without a chance of defence. You tell us the motive for the crime, certainly; but how did Marson do it? When did he have the pill-box? Where could he obtain the morphia?"

"Judas knows."

"Judas!"

"Yes. I believe Judas is an accomplice of Marson, and between the two of them they killed Melstane in that remarkably ingenious manner."

"I can't believe it," said Japix, as his two visitors arose to take their leave.

"Probably not," replied Fanks, calmly; "but I'll give you plenty of proof shortly."

"Why, what do you intend to do?"

"I'm going to see Monsieur Judas."

"You'll find him a match for you," said the Doctor, grimly, as he accompanied his guests to the door.

"Then I'll see Marson."

"Humph! two stools, you'll fall to the ground."

"I'll take my chance of that," said Fanks, cheerfully, as he stepped out into the darkness with Roger. "Good night, Japix. I'll be able to give you the key to the Jarlchester Mystery next week."

Extracts From a Detectives Note-Book

". . . Just returned from an evening with Japix . . . We (R., J., and myself) had a long conversation about the case . . . This conversation has left me in a state of great perplexity . . . I told Japix I would give him the key to the mystery next week, but I spoke more boldly than I have reason to . . . It is true I am narrowing down the circle . . . I suspect two people, with a possible third . . . Marson, Judith Varlins, and Judas . . . It's a very humiliating fact to confess this indecision even to myself . . . But, detectives are not infallible save in novels . . . I am perplexed . . . I have suspected Axton wrongfully . . . I have suspected Spolger wrongfully, and now . . . Let me make a note of the motives of each of the three people I suspect now . . .

". . . Marson! He is on the verge of bankruptcy . . . only one person can save him, viz. Jackson Spolger . . . He, however, declines to help him unless he marries Florry Marson . . . She won't marry Spolger because of her love for Melstane . . . A strong motive here for Marson to get rid of Melstane . . .

". . . Miss Varlins . . . Her motive for getting rid of Melstane, I think, is a mixture of love and jealousy . . . Both strong motives, with a woman . . .

". . . Judas! He loves Miss Marson also, and with his loose morality would have no hesitation in putting Melstane out of the way. He wants Florry Marson, he wants her money . . . Melstane stands in the way of his obtaining both . . . in such a case Judas is just the man--from my reading of his character--to commit a crime . . . Again, his employment as a chemist offers him peculiar advantages for obtaining morphia . . . It would be difficult for either Marson or Miss Varlins to obtain morphia in a large quantity, but Judas could easily get it in the ordinary course of his business . . . I am going to see Judas, and from a second conversation may perhaps learn something useful . . . He is crafty . . . still he may betray himself . . . at all events, it is worth while trying.

"_Mem_.--To see Judas to-morrow night."