CHAPTER XXIX.

DR. BINJOY PROTESTS.

Silence ensued after this astounding statement had been made by Sir Louis, during which time Fanks narrowly observed the personality of the speaker. The baronet was a tall, and rather stout young man, with a round face, destitute of beard and moustache. He was shabbily dressed in an old tweed suit. He wore spectacles, and his shoulders were slightly bowed as from constant bending over a desk. His appearance was rather that of a studious German than that of a young Englishman, but Fanks, from this hasty observation, judged him to be of a sensible and reflective nature. Such a man would not make so terrible an accusation unless he was able to substantiate it on every point.

Binjoy arose to refute the accusation of his quondam pupil. "That man," he said, pointing an unsteady hand at the baronet, "is lying. He hates me because I know his secrets. For their preservation he seeks to destroy me. But if I fall he falls also; if I am guilty he is doubly so. Let him speak and admit that our sin is mutual."

"I admit nothing of the sort," retorted Sir Louis, coming forward. "You tell your story, and I shall tell mine. Mr. Fanks can judge between us."

"You had better be careful, Louis," said Binjoy, with an attempt at bravado. "I hold you in the hollow of my hand."

"We will see," said Fellenger, coldly. "Be seated, Mr. Fanks. Before you leave this room you shall hear my story, and decide as you think best. I refuse to be the accomplice of that man any longer."

"Louis, I implore you."

But Fellenger turned a deaf ear to the voice of the charmer, and sat down near Fanks, to whom he addressed himself. "For the sake of Binjoy I concealed the truth; out of pity for him I held my tongue; but when he strives to make me an accomplice in the crime, when he attempts to blackmail me by threatening to inform you of our doings on the night of the twenty-first of June, I prefer to forestall him, and let you know the worst of myself."

"You were listening to our conversation, Sir Louis?" said Fanks.

"I was," replied the baronet, coldly. "I know what Mrs. Jerusalem thinks; I know how Binjoy has been lying to you; and I am sick of living on the verge of a precipice, over which that man and my housekeeper threaten to push me. At any cost you shall hear the truth so far as I am able to tell it to you. Ask what questions you like, Mr. Fanks, and I shall answer them; when I fail no doubt the worthy doctor there will come to my aid, and shield himself if possible at my expense."

"I shall say nothing," said Binjoy, wiping his lips. "My only desire is to save myself from the consequences of your falsehoods. I wish you no harm."

"Just hear him!" cried Louis, in a mocking tone. "Would you believe that my friend there threatened to blackmail me last week by saying he would denounce me to the police. Well, Binjoy, here is a representative of the law. You can now speak. I give you full power to do so."

Binjoy did not accept this challenge. He sat back in his chair to listen to the forthcoming conversation, and to defend himself if necessary.

"Well, Sir Louis," said the detective, "I have heard your accusation and the denial of Dr. Binjoy. Until I hear your story and his I attach no value to either."

Binjoy drew a long breath of relief. "I can defend myself," he said, in a defiant tone. "I can prove to you that Louis lies."

"You shall have ample opportunity of doing so," replied Fanks, coldly; "in the meantime I shall hear what Sir Louis has to say."

"I must begin at the beginning," said Louis, quietly. "That man Binjoy was the doctor in this village of Damington. When my father died leaving me an orphan--for my mother had died some years before--he asked Binjoy to look after me."

"And I have done so," broke in Binjoy, "and this is my reward."

"This is your reward for trying to blackmail me," said Fellenger, dryly. "You did your best to ruin me, and to put bad thoughts into my heart as to Gregory's wealth and my own poverty. See here, Mr. Fanks," added Louis, turning to the detective, "I am a man of science; I am devoted to my work. I wanted neither money nor title, and I would not have lifted a finger to obtain either. I did not like Gregory; he was a brutal and wicked boy, and when we were playmates together he treated me like a dog. I never saw him for years. We never corresponded or treated each other as relatives, but for all that I did not wish him evil; I did not desire his death; least of all did I desire to rob him of his titles and lands. Do you believe me, sir?"

Fanks looked at the open face of the young man, and glanced at the scowl which rested on the countenance of Binjoy. Drawing his own conclusions, he replied quietly, "I believe you, Sir Louis; proceed, if you please."

"Binjoy," pursued Louis, "was always lamenting that I was not the owner of the Fellenger estates; and now that I am he hopes to make me pay him large sums of money to purchase his silence."

"What does he threaten to accuse you of?" said Fanks.

"Of murdering my cousin under the disguise of the negro Caesar, but I am innocent, Mr. Fanks, as I hope to prove to you. I was trapped by that man and his accomplice, Dr. Turnor."

"Ah!" murmured Fanks, while Binjoy scowled. "I was sure that the ferret had something to do with the matter."

"Of that you shall judge for yourself," said Fellenger. "Have you heard of Mithridates, Mr. Fanks?"

The detective was rather astonished at this apparently irrelevant question; but having some knowledge of ancient history, he said that he had heard of the monarch. "He was a king of Pontus, wasn't he; who lived on poisons?"

"Exactly. He accustomed himself to taking poisons for so long that in the end the most deadly had no effect on him. I always thought that this was a fable and I wanted to see if I was right. For this purpose, I tried experiments on dogs. I inoculated an animal with a weak poison, and gradually increased the dose. Whether I was successful does not matter; it has nothing to do with my story. But I may tell you this, that, with the aid of Binjoy, I prepared a very powerful vegetable poison for my final experiment; with this I impregnated a needle."

"Oh!" said Fanks, "now I am beginning to see. Was it an ordinary needle?"

"No, it was not an ordinary needle," replied Fellenger. "In the first place it was silver; in the second, it was hollow; in the third, it was filled with this deadly vegetable poison, of which I told you."

"Prepared by Dr. Binjoy?"

"Prepared by both of us," said Binjoy, savagely. "Let him take his share of the guilt."

"I am not guilty. Mr. Fanks can judge of that for himself when I tell him what I know," retorted the baronet. "Well, Mr. Fanks, we prepared this needle and placed it in a case; for the least prick with it meant death by blood poisoning. We intended to use it on the dog, when the animal was sufficiently saturated with weaker poisons to admit of the experiment being made. You may be sure, sir, that I was very careful of that needle; I placed it in my cabinet. Dr. Binjoy had access to that cabinet."

"I had not," contradicted Binjoy.

"Yes, you had; you possessed a key as well as myself," retorted Sir Louis, sharply.

"I did not," said the doctor, obstinate in his denial.

"Don't lie, Binjoy, I found you with it opened one day; the day Anne Colmer was with you, and I was so angry."

"Oh, Anne Colmer knew about this needle?" said Fanks.

"I can't say," said Fellenger. "While I was living at Taxton-on-Thames, Miss Colmer sometimes came to the house. But I was angry at Binjoy for opening that cabinet in her presence, as there were a lot of dangerous drugs in it."

"She touched none of them," growled. Binjoy.

"Oh!" said Fanks, sharply. "Then you admit that you showed Miss Colmer the cabinet of poisons."

Binjoy scowled, and grew a shade paler; as he saw that he had over reached himself. However, he said nothing, lest he should make bad worse; and, with a significant glance at Fanks the baronet resumed his story.

"One day, in the middle of June," said Fellenger, "I found the needle missing; and Binjoy told me he had given it to Turnor."

"I did not say that," exclaimed Binjoy, wrathfully. "I said that I missed it one day when Turnor was in the laboratory; and I thought that he might have taken it. As it proved, he did not. I know no more than yourself who took it."

"We will see," said Louis. "I was ill at the time: and when Binjoy hinted that Turnor had it, I determined to go up to London, and get it again. I rose from my bed of sickness and went up to London on the evening of the twenty-first."

"But was it necessary that you should have gone up?" said Fanks, "would not a line to Dr. Turnor have done?"

"Probably. But the preparation of the poison was a secret, and when I heard that the needle was in Turnor's possession, I was afraid lest he should analyse the preparation. I went up to town with Binjoy post haste to recover it again. This haste may appear strange to you, Mr. Fanks; but you do not know how jealous we men of science are of our secrets. But, at all events, we went up to town that evening. Do you deny that, Binjoy?"

"No, I don't deny it," retorted Binjoy, gloomily. "Mr. Fanks tracked me to Plymouth; he knows that I am Renshaw."

"I do. May I ask, Dr. Binjoy, why you took a false name?"

Binjoy pointed to his friend. "It was to save that ungrateful man," he said, in a tragic voice. "When I saw you at the Red Star, and found out that it was Sir Gregory who had been murdered, I foresaw how you might suspect Louis as the cousin of the dead man. Mrs. Boazoph sent for Dr. Turnor, I came instead of him, leaving Turnor with Louis. I had been to the Red Star before, and Mrs. Boazoph knew me as Renshaw."

"And you wore a false beard. How was that?"

"I used to go up to London to enjoy myself," said Binjoy, apologetically, "and I did not want any rumours to creep down to Taxton-on-Thames concerning my movements. This is why I adopted the false name; and disguise."

"Did you know of this?" said Fanks, turning to Louis.

"I do now, I did not then," said he, promptly. "When I arrived in town, I went with Binjoy to Dr. Turnor's house in Great Auk Street. Turnor denied possession of the needle. Shortly afterwards, a message came that the landlady of the Red Star wanted Turnor. I would not let Turnor leave the room; as I felt sure that he had the needle, and thought that he might make away with it. Binjoy went in his place; but he had no disguise on when he went out of the house."

"I put it on outside," explained Renshaw, alias Binjoy. "I did not tell you all my secrets, as you were always so straight-laced, you might have objected to my enjoying myself."

"I should certainly have objected to your disguising yourself, and going under another name," said Louis, coldly, "I do not like such underhand doings. I did not know that you went to the Red Star as Renshaw; when you came back I had gone."

"Ah!" murmured Fanks, "that accounts why we didn't catch you. The house was not watched till Binjoy came back. Did you return to Taxton-on-Thames?"

"Yes. I returned without the needle, which Turnor denied having. I felt very ill, and got into bed at once."

"Was Mrs. Jerusalem in the house, then?"

"Yes. Binjoy, as I afterwards learned, had sent her out. It was part of the trap. He wanted to make out that I had got rid of the woman so that I could go up to town and kill my cousin."

"When did you hear of your cousin's death?"

"The next day. Turnor came down; and said that Binjoy could not return as he was being watched by detectives."

"Quite so. And Turnor told you about your cousin's death?"

"He did; and then he said that if I did not hold my tongue, and pretend that I had not left Taxton-on-Thames that night, I should be in danger of being accused of the crime. What could I do, Mr. Fanks; I saw my danger, I held my tongue."

"Yes," said Fanks. "I can see why you were afraid. You were in a dangerous position."

"I was in a trap," retorted Louis. "Can't you see, Mr. Fanks. Gregory was killed with a poisoned needle. I had talked about that needle to many people. Many scientific men knew that I was experimenting with it. I was in Turnor's house at the very time that the crime was committed."

"And you were thereby able to prove an alibi."

"Indeed, no. Turnor told me that he needed money; and he swore that he would deny that I had been in his house; that he would denounce me as the murderer of my cousin, if I did not give him a cheque. I could do nothing, I was afraid; the circumstances were too strong for me. I would have told the police; but in the face of Turnor's denial; in the face of Binjoy's treachery in luring me into that house at the very time of the murder, I dreaded lest I should be arrested and condemned on circumstantial evidence. And the negro, Binjoy's servant, was smuggled off to Bombay by Binjoy, to close the trap more firmly on me."

"That's a lie," said Binjoy. "I sent the negro away to Bombay to avert suspicion. I feigned a voyage to Plymouth for the same reason. I ordered Caesar to meet me at Plymouth; and sent him to Bombay in my place."

"I know you did," said Fanks, "you no doubt did that when I lost you in the town after you disembarked."

"Well, you see, Mr. Fanks," said Louis, "that I am innocent. I held my tongue, and lied about Binjoy, because I was afraid of the circumstantial evidence which might be brought against me. Thanks to Binjoy and Turnor, I was in a trap; I was at their mercy. I have told you all because Binjoy tried to blackmail me last week. Now what do you say?"

"Say, Sir Louis. I believe that you have told the truth. You are innocent of this crime. But the question is, what does Dr. Binjoy say?"

"I say that there is not one word of truth in the whole story," said the doctor, with a scowl.