Part 37 (2/2)
”After we had talked for some time, she telling me how happy both she and Liane were, and how the latter had become engaged clandestinely to the Baronet's son, George, she rode beside me as far as the lodge gates of the Court, where we parted. Then she remounted and rode back in the direction of the spot where she was afterwards discovered, while I strolled slowly on to the station, whence I returned to London. It was dusk before I left Stratfield Mortimer, but as I changed at Reading to enter the train for Paddington, I caught a glimpse of a face I thought I knew. It was only for a single instant, but the face was one that once seen is never forgotten. It was the face of Zertho.”
”You saw me!” he gasped.
”Yes. You were in a crowd on Reading platform, and were about to enter the same train as myself, but changing your mind, suddenly left the station hurriedly,” she said. ”At that time, remember, I had no idea that you were in England, for Nelly had not mentioned your visit. Two days later, however, I was appalled by reading in the papers that poor Nelly had been murdered almost immediately after I had left her, and quite close to the spot where we had at first stood. Afterwards in the report of the inquest, I saw that you were present and had given evidence. Then there was silence. The affair was an enigma, and the police possessed no clue. The papers mentioned a broad mark a foot wide upon the dust, which they regarded as mysterious. It was made by my skirt which swept the road. I alone held the key to the enigma. In order to a.s.sure myself that my suspicions were not unfounded, I returned to Reading, made careful inquiries there, and when I had satisfied myself, left England with the knowledge I had obtained still in my possession.”
”What did you discover?” inquired George, quickly, while Liane still clung to him tremblingly.
”I discovered absolute proof of the ident.i.ty of Nolly's a.s.sa.s.sin. It was Zertho d'Auzac!”
CHAPTER TWENTY.
AT CROSS LANE.
”You lie!” the Prince cried indignantly. ”There is no proof.”
”Listen!” Mariette retorted in a firm, harsh tone, gazing at him steadily. ”Listen while I recall to your memory the events of that fateful night. In my inquiries I traced your progress step by step, and every movement is entirely plain to me. You went to England with solely one object in view, namely, to get rid of Nelly Bridson, the woman who could convict you of murder.”
”I deny that I had any hand whatever in the affair,” he protested.
”Why, she went with me to the station and saw me off to Reading! It was given in evidence that the police inquired of the station officials at Stratfield Mortimer, and also at Reading, and were entirely satisfied that there was no suspicion upon me. Therefore, whatever you say is utterly worthless,” he added, turning from her contemptuously.
”We shall see,” she replied. ”If you have so conveniently forgotten what your movements were, I will describe them. It is quite true that Nelly saw you off to Reading. But prior to this, while alone in the dining-room of Captain Brooker's cottage, you found lying about the letter I had written her making the appointment. Curiosity prompted you to read its contents, and you therefore knew that at seven o'clock she would be in Cross Lane. You bade her farewell at eight minutes past six, and your train arrived at Reading at twenty minutes past. You immediately took a fly back towards Stratfield, but dismissed the man at Threemile Cross, and after watching the conveyance out of sight, took a cut across the fields for about a mile and a half to Cross Lane, thus completely doubling. It was growing dark when you reached the railway bridge, but you saw your victim coming from the opposite direction, and drew back half-way up the steep ascent, where you knew she must pa.s.s slowly. Suspecting no danger, the light-hearted girl allowed her machine to run swiftly down the incline, then pedalled hard for the ascent, when suddenly you raised your weapon, took deliberate aim and fired. With a cry she dropped sideways on her feet, the machine falling with her. Then she blindly staggered forward two or three paces, and sank to earth, dying. For an instant you waited, but even while you looked the poor girl sighed heavily and pa.s.sed away. Then, fearing detection, you turned and fled back across the fields to Reading station, where I saw you an hour later.”
”It's an absolute falsehood!” he cried. ”I went direct to London after leaving the girl.”
”You did not, for I found the man who drove you to Threemile Cross, and who will give evidence against you on your trial.”
”You have!” he gasped. ”You will hand me over to the police?” he added hoa.r.s.ely.
”Certainly,” she answered, firmly. ”The police of Reading and the police of Nice will alike be anxious to give you free lodgings in a chamber scarcely as comfortable as any in the Villa Chevrier. For a good many months the mystery of Charles Holroyde's death has puzzled them, but it will remain an enigma no longer.”
”Then Brooker will suffer also,” he cried.
”No, he will not,” replied the inventor of ”The Agony of Monte Carlo,”
quickly. ”My evidence will prevent that. I saw you commit the murder, and likewise witnessed how Brooker endeavoured to prevent you.”
”Again,” cried Mariette, ”there is yet another fact. From inquiries I have made it is plain that some months prior to Nelly's death she, by word or action, had betrayed her knowledge of your crime committed in Nice.”
”I recollect now,” cried Liane, suddenly. ”She always loathed Zertho, a fact which often caused me some surprise, he having made her several handsome presents after his sudden change of fortune. Once, too, I chanced to remark in jest that I might possibly become Princess d'Auzac, whereupon she answered, `No, never. I could prevent that.'”
”This exactly proves my contention,” exclaimed Mariette, excitedly turning to the others. ”Nelly had betrayed her knowledge of his secret, and he was in deadly fear of her. He committed the second crime so that the first should remain concealed. It was not until months afterwards, when Richards disclosed his ident.i.ty, and, having had a run of ill-luck at the tables, offered to preserve silence for a momentary consideration, that he knew there was a second witness. Nelly had never told him that she had a companion on that fateful night, and he felt a.s.sured that the man who had so suddenly sprung upon them could not again identify him. Only when Richards came forward did he realise the truth that in taking Nelly Bridson's life he had failed to efface his first crime, and had placed himself in deadlier peril.”
A deep silence fell. The man accused stood motionless, his dark, sallow face livid, his eyes, with a haunting look of abject terror in them, fixed upon the carpet. His hands were clenched, his head bent, his body rigid. This sudden and unexpected exposure held him dumb.
At last Liane spoke in a low musical voice, a little strained perhaps, but her tone showed that at last the crus.h.i.+ng weight of Zertho's accusation of her father had been lifted from her mind, and she already felt her freedom to love George Stratfield.
”There is yet one thing unexplained,” she said. ”I have a confession to make.”
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