CHAPTER IX.

VAUD AND VAUD.

Here, indeed, was food for reflection. That the instrument with which the crime had been committed should come into the detective's possession was extraordinary; but that it should have been left anonymously at the rooms of the murdered man was inconceivably audacious. Fanks at once returned to the chambers, and closely questioned Maxwell and Robert. It struck him that the latter might have had a hand in placing the mysterious parcel in the letter box.

"I examined the box an hour ago, sir," said Maxwell, "as you told me to look after all letters. There was nothing in it then. It must have been placed in it since."

"While we were in the sitting-room, no doubt," said Garth. "Do you know anything of this, Robert?"

"I, sir? Lord, no, sir; I never set eyes on it before."

"We left ten minutes ago," remarked Fanks. "What have you been doing since that time."

"I have been with Mr. Maxwell, sir."

"Was he with you all the time, Maxwell?"

"Yes, sir," replied the policeman in great alarm. "He came out into the kitchen, and we was together for a chat; then I thought it was near post time, and I goes to the box. I found that parcel, and as I knowed you couldn't be far off I ran down stairs."

This explanation was perfectly satisfactory, yet for the life of him, the detective could not help looking at Robert with suspicion. However, as he had not been out of Maxwell's company, he could not possibly have put the parcel in the box, therefore Fanks was reluctantly compelled to believe in his innocence.

"That will do," he said, at length, and drew Garth away. When they again descended the stairs, Garth began to ask him questions, but Fanks cut these short. "I must be alone to think it out," he said, in apologetic explanation. "Go away, Garth, and let me puzzle over the matter by myself."

The young lawyer was unwilling to do this as he was filled with genuine curiosity concerning the needle. However, he could suggest nothing, and he saw that his mere presence worried his friend. He therefore obeyed the request, and went off to meditate on his own account. As for Fanks, he repaired to his rooms, and with the needle before him he sat for considerably over an hour thinking what it all meant. The mystery was deeper than ever.

There was no doubt that someone had left the parcel in the letter box within the hour. According to Maxwell, it had not been there when he last looked in; according to Robert, he had not been out of the policeman's company since he left the sitting-room. Who, then, placed this damning evidence of the crime in the box? The assassin himself? But the assassin, as had been proved clearly, was a negro. A few questions to the constable stationed near the door had elicited the fact that no negro had gone up. In fact, the man had sworn that he had seen nobody ascend the stairs since the time Fanks returned from his unsuccessful pursuit. So scanty were the facts which he had to go on, that Fanks could not even build up a theory. He was completely in the dark, and he seemed likely to remain so.

The instrument was of silver, the length of a darning needle, and while the point was as sharp as a lancet, it broadened gradually till when it passed into a slim, ebony handle, it was--for a needle, quite bulky. In this broad part the poison was doubtless contained, and thence it oozed, drop by drop, to the deadly point. Fanks shuddered at the sight of the piece of devilish ingenuity. The infernal dexterity of the thing gave him an idea.

"Must have been manufactured by a scientific man," he mused, touching the slender, silver line gingerly. "It's too clever for an amateur. Louis, the new baronet, is a man of science; he has succeeded to the title. Can it be that--but, no!" he added, breaking off abruptly, "he would not commit a crime in so obvious a fashion, much less, leave the means he used at the address of his victim."

Nevertheless, the idea lured him so far afield, into so many speculations that, finding they led to nothing, he locked up the poisoned needle, put it out of his thoughts, and paid a visit to New Scotland Yard. Here he explained to the person in authority, that, while he had every hope of capturing the assassin of the late Sir Gregory Fellenger, yet he was bound to point out that the expenses of the case would be considerable. To this, the person in authority replied by placing before Fanks a letter from Messrs. Vaud and Vaud, of Lincoln's Inn Fields. It stated that they had been directed by Sir Louis Fellenger--who was at present confined to bed through ill-health--to assure the authorities that he wished every effort to be made to discover the murderer of his cousin; and that he would willingly bear the costs of the investigation. This communication concluded by requesting that the detective in charge of the case should call at the offices of the lawyers at his earliest convenience.

"Very meritorious of Sir Louis to save the Government expense," said the person in authority. "Use what money you require, Mr. Fanks, but be reasonable--be reasonable."

"I shall be as reasonable as I possibly can be, sir," replied Fanks; "but in my opinion, the case will be both long and expensive. It is the most complicated matter that I ever took in hand."

"The more difficulty, the more glory," said the person in authority. "Go on with the case, Mr. Fanks; act as you please, make use of all our resources. I have every confidence in you, Mr. Fanks; if anyone can lay his hand on the assassin of Sir Gregory Fellenger, you are the man. I wish you good day, Mr. Fanks."

Dismissed in this gracious manner, Fanks left the room with the intention of obeying forthwith the injunction of Vaud and Vaud. Before he could depart he was intercepted by Crate.

"A communication from Dr. Renshaw," said Crate, with an air of great importance. "He called here this afternoon with the intention of seeing you. In your absence, he saw me; and stated that he was leaving for India to-night by the P. and O. steamer 'Oceana.' Before leaving, he wished to see and speak with you."

"Before leaving, he has to see and speak with me," retorted Fanks, coolly. "I would have him arrested on suspicion if he attempted to leave London without according me an interview."

"You have no evidence on which you can arrest him, Mr. Fanks."

"I have more evidence than you are aware of, Crate. If Dr. Renshaw could have defied me he would have done so; but he dare not. Where is he now?"

"He is still at Great Auk Street, where he has been watched ever since the night of the murder."

"When does the 'Oceana' leave the Docks?"

"To-night at ten o'clock. Dr. Renshaw goes down from Fenchurch Street by the eight train."

"It is now a quarter past five. Good! I shall call at Great Auk Street; in the meantime, I have to keep another appointment."

"Have you found out anything since I saw you last, Mr. Fanks?"

"I have found out that there is a woman in the case," said Fanks. "And that reminds me, Crate. You must go to Paris by to-night's mail. Are you busy with anything else?"

"No, Mr. Fanks. I shall be ready to start when you please. What am I to do in Paris?"

Fanks sat down at Crate's table and wrote a name and a date. "Get me a certificate of the death and burial of Emma Calvert, who died in Paris last year; she committed suicide, which was passed off as an accident, and was buried in Pere la Chaise. I do not know the month of the death, but you can do without that. Wire me all particulars. You can get the French police to help you. Ask in the office here for necessary credentials and authorisation. Don't spare expense, I have full power to draw all moneys I want."

After delivering these necessary instructions, Fanks drove off to Lincoln's Inn Fields, and presented his card at the office of Vaud and Vaud. He was at once shown up to the room of the senior partner, and found him as Garth said, a dignified gentleman of the old school. He was red-faced and white-haired; emphasised his remarks by waving a "pince-nez," and spoke with some of the magnificence of Dr. Renshaw.

"This is a most lamentable business, Mr. Fanks," he said, when the detective was seated. "I usually go home before five o'clock, but in the interests of our client, Sir Louis Fellenger, I remained, on the chance of seeing you. I am glad to see you."

"I came as soon as I was able, Mr. Vaud; but you only sent for me to-day. I wonder you did not wish to see me before."

"There was no necessity, my dear sir. We only heard from Sir Louis yesterday that he was prepared to bear all expenses connected with the investigation of the case."

"Sir Louis is ill, I believe, Mr. Vaud?"

"Sir Louis is never well, sir," said the lawyer impressively. "He is a delicate man, and he is given over to the arduous science of experimental chemistry. The earnestness with which he prosecutes his researches keeps him in a constant state of anxiety; and his health suffers accordingly. He is now at Mere Hall, attended by Dr. Binjoy."

"Is Dr. Binjoy with Sir Louis at Mere Hall at this present moment?"

"Certainly. Dr. Binjoy never leaves the side of Sir Louis. He has the greatest influence over him. Though I must say," added Vaud, "that even the influence of the doctor could not prevent his patient rising from his sick-bed to attend the funeral of the late baronet."

"He must have been fond of his cousin," said Fanks, pointedly.

"On the contrary, the cousins had not seen one another for ten years and more," said Mr. Vaud, solemnly. "I do not wish to speak evil of the dead, but the late Sir Gregory was certainly a butterfly of fashion, while the present Sir Louis is a man of science. They never got on well together, and therefore kept out of each other's way."

"And very sensible, too," said Fanks, dryly. "Do you happen to know if Dr. Binjoy has been in London lately?"

"I happen to know on the best authority--that of Sir Louis--that Binjoy has not been in London for the last six weeks. Sir Louis has been ill for that period; the doctor has not left his bedside."

Fanks made a mental note of this answer, and turned the conversation in the direction of the crime. "You know that Fellenger died from poison?"

"From blood-poisoning," corrected Vaud. "So I saw in the papers. A most remarkable case, my dear sir. What took our late client to that locality, and why did he submit himself to the tattooing needle?"

"I can't say. Are you aware of any motive which might have induced the dead man to have a cross tattooed?"

"No, sir. As a matter of fact," continued Mr. Vaud, "the late Sir Gregory and myself were not on the best of terms. He was extravagant, and he resented my well-meant advice. I saw as little of him as of Sir Louis."

"Then you are not intimate with Sir Louis?"

"I cannot say that I am. Sir Louis has led a secluded life at Taxton-on-Thames. I have only seen him once or twice."

"And Dr. Binjoy?"

"I have never seen him at all."

"Was Sir Louis rich?"

"On the contrary, he was very poor. Five hundred a year only."

"Well, Mr. Vaud," said Fanks, rising. "I have to thank Sir Louis for his offer to bear the expenses of this case; and I shall do my best to bring the criminal to justice."

"Have you any clue, Mr. Fanks?"

"I have a variety of clues, but they all seem to lead to nothing."

"Do you think that you will be successful?"

"I can't say--yet. I hope so."

"I hope so, too, but I am doubtful; very doubtful. Well, good evening, Mr. Fanks. Do you want any money?"

"Not at present. I shall write to you when I do."

"That's all right. I trust you will succeed, Mr. Fanks. But in my opinion you are wasting time and money. The crime is a mystery, and for all that I can see, it will remain a mystery."