Red Money

"There is no disgrace on my part. Remember to whom you are speaking."

"I do. I speak to the head of the family, worse luck! You have done your best to trail our name in the mud. You altered a check which Pine gave you so as to get more money; you forged his name to a mortgage – "

"Lies, lies, the lies of Agnes!" screamed Garvington, jumping up and shaking his fist in puny anger. "The wicked – "

"Speak properly of my wife, or I'll wring your neck," said Lambert sharply. "As to what she told me being lies, it is only too true, as you know. I read the letter you wrote confessing that you had lured Pine here to be shot by telling falsehoods about Agnes and me."

"I only lured him to get his arm broken so that I might nurse him when he was ill and get some money," growled Garvington, sitting down again.

"I am well aware of what you did and how you did it. But you gave that forged letter to Silver so that it might be passed on to Pine."

"I didn't! I didn't! I didn't! I didn't!"

"You did. And because Silver knew too much you gave him the Abbot's Wood Cottage at a cheap rent, or at no rent at all, for all I know. To be quite plain, Garvington, you conspired with Silver to have Pine killed."

"Winged – only winged, I tell you. I never shot him."

"Your accomplice did."

"He's not my accomplice. He was in the house – everything was locked up."

"By you," said Lambert quickly. "So it was easy for you to leave a window unfastened, so that Silver might get outside to hide in the shrubbery."

"Oh!" Garvington jumped up again, looking both pale and wicked. "You want to put a rope round my neck, curse you."

"That's a melodramatic speech which is not true," replied the other coldly. "For I want to save you, or, rather, our name, from disgrace. I won't call in the police" – Garvington winced at this word – "because I wish to hush the matter up. But since Chaldea and Silver accuse me and accuse Agnes of getting rid of Pine so that we might marry, it is necessary that I should learn the exact truth."

"I don't know it. I know nothing more than I have confessed."

"You are such a liar that I can't believe you. However, I shall go at once to Silver and you shall come with me."

"I shan't!" Garvington, who was overfed and flabby and unable to hold his own against a determined man, settled himself in his chair and looked as obstinate as a battery mule.

"Oh, yes, you will, you little swine," said Lambert freezingly cold.

"How dare you call me names?"

"Names! If I called you those you deserved I should have to annex the vocabulary of a Texan muledriver. How such a beast as you ever got into our family I can't conceive."

"I am the head of the family and I order you to leave the room."

"Oh, you do, do you? Very good. Then I go straight to Wanbury and shall tell what I have discovered to Inspector Darby."

"No! No! No! No!" Garvington, cornered at last, sprang from his chair and made for his cousin with unsteady legs. "It might be unpleasant."

"I daresay – to you. Well, will you come with me to Abbot's Wood?"

"Yes," whimpered Garvington. "Wait till I get my cap and stick, curse you, for an interfering beast. You don't know what you're doing."

"Ah! then you do know something likely to reveal the truth."

"I don't – I swear I don't! I only – "

"Oh, damn you, get your cap, and let us be off," broke in Lambert angrily, "for I can't be here all day listening to your lies."

Garvington scowled and ambled out of the room, closely followed by his cousin, who did not think it wise to lose sight of so shifty a person. In a few minutes they were out of the house and took the path leading from the blue door to the postern gate in the brick wall surrounding the park. It was a frosty, sunny day, with a hard blue sky, overarching a wintry landscape. A slight fall of snow had powdered the ground with a film of white, and the men's feet drummed loudly on the iron earth, which was in the grip of the frost. Garvington complained of the cold, although he had on a fur overcoat which made him look like a baby bear.

"You'll give me my death of cold, dragging me out like this," he moaned, as he trotted beside his cousin. "I believe you want me to take pneumonia so that I may die and leave you the title."

"I should at least respect it more than you do," said Lambert with scorn. "Why can't you be a man instead of a thing on two legs? If you did die no one would miss you but cooks and provision dealers."

Garvington gave him a vicious glance from his little pig's eyes, and longed to be tall, and strong, and daring, so that he might knock him down. But he knew that Lambert was muscular and dexterous, and would probably break his neck if it came to a tussle. Therefore, as the stout little lord had a great regard for his neck, he judged it best to yield to superior force, and trotted along obediently enough. Also he became aware within himself that it would be necessary to explain to Silver how he had come to betray him, and that would not be easy. Silver would be certain to make himself extremely disagreeable. Altogether the walk was not a pleasant one for the sybarite.

The Abbot's Wood looked bare and lean with the leaves stripped from its many trees. Occasionally there was a fir, clothed in dark green foliage, but for the most part the branches of the trees were naked, and quivered constantly in the chilly breeze. Even on the outskirts of the wood one could see right into the centre where the black monoliths – they looked black against the snow – reared themselves grimly. To the right there was a glimpse of gypsy fires and tents and caravans, and the sound of the Romany tongue was borne toward them through the clear atmosphere. On such a day it was easy both to see and hear for long distances, and for this reason Chaldea became aware that the two men were walking toward the cottage.

The girl, desperately angry that she had been unable to bring Lambert to book, had sauntered back to the camp, but had just reached it when she caught sight of the tall figure and the short one. In a moment she knew that Lambert and his cousin were making for Silver's abode, which was just what she had expected them to do. At once she determined to again adopt her former tactics, which had been successful in enabling her to overhear the conversation between Lambert and Lady Agnes, and, following at a respectful distance, she waited for her chance. It came when the pair entered the cottage, for then Chaldea ran swiftly in a circle toward the monoliths, and crouched down behind one. While peering from behind this shelter, she saw Silver pass the window of the studio, and felt certain that the interview, would take place in that room. Like a serpent, as she was, the girl crawled and wriggled through the frozen vegetation and finally managed to get under the window without being observed. The window was closed, but by pressing her ear close to the woodwork she was enabled to hear a great deal, if not all. Candidly speaking, Chaldea had truly believed that Lambert had shot Pine, but now that he had disproved the charge so easily, she became desperately anxious to learn the truth. Lambert had escaped her, but she thought that it might be possible to implicate his wife in the crime, which would serve her purpose of injuring him just as well.

Silver was not surprised to see his landlord, as it seemed that Garvington paid him frequent visits. But he certainly showed an uneasy amazement when Lambert stalked in behind the fat little man. Silver was also small, and also cowardly, and also not quite at rest in his conscience, so he shivered when he met the very direct gaze of his unwelcome visitor.

"You have come to look at your old house, Mr. Lambert," he remarked, when the two made themselves comfortable by the studio fire.

"Not at all. I have come to see you," was the grim response.

"That is an unexpected honor," said Silver uneasily, and his eyes sought those of Lord Garvington, who was spreading out his hands to the blaze, looking blue with cold. He caught Silver's inquiring look.

"I couldn't help it," said Garvington crossly. "I must look after myself."

Silver's smooth, foxy face became livid, and he could scarcely speak. When he did, it was with a sickly smile. "Whatever are you talking about, my lord?"

"Oh, you know, d – you! I did give you that revolver, you know."

"The revolver?" Silver stared. "Yes, why should I deny it? I suppose you have come to get it back?"

"I have come to get it, Mr. Silver," put in Lambert politely. "Hand it over to me, if you please."

"If you like. It certainly has your name on the handle," said the secretary so quietly that the other man was puzzled. Silver did not seem to be so uncomfortable as he might have been.

"The revolver was one of a pair which I had especially made when I went to Africa some years ago," explained Lambert elaborately, and determined to make his listener understand the situation thoroughly. "On my return I made them a present to my cousin. I understand, Mr. Silver, that Lord Garvington lent you one – "

"And kept the other," interrupted the man sharply. "That is true. I was afraid of burglars, since Lord Garvington was always talking about them, so I asked him to lend me a weapon to defend myself with."

"And you used it to shoot Pine," snapped Garvington, anxious to end his suspense and get the interview over as speedily as possible.

Silver rose from his seat in an automatic manner, and turned delicately pale. "Are you mad?" he gasped, looking from one man to the other.

"It's all very well you talking," whimpered Garvington with a shiver; "but Pine was shot with that revolver I lent you."

"It's a lie!"

"Oh, I knew you'd say that," complained Garvington, shivering again. "But I warned you that there might be trouble, since you carried that letter for me, so that it might fall by chance into Pine's hands."

"Augh!" groaned Silver, sinking back into his chair and passing his tongue over a pair of dry, gray lips. "Hold your tongue, my lord."

"What's the use? He knows," and Garvington jerked his head in the direction of his cousin. "The game's up, Silver – the game's up!"

"Oh!" Silver's eyes flashed, and he looked like a rat at bay. "So you intend to save yourself at my expense. But it won't do, my lord. You wrote that letter, if I carried it to the camp."

"I have admitted to my sister and to Lambert, here, that I wrote the letter, Silver. I had to, or get into trouble with the police, since neither of them will listen to reason. But you suggested the plan to get Pine winged so that he might be ill in my house, and then we could both get money out of him. You invented the plot, and I only wrote the letter."

"Augh! Augh!" gulped Silver, unable to speak plainly.

"Do you confess the truth of Lord Garvington's statement?" inquired Lambert suavely, and fixing a merciless eye on the trapped fox.

"No – that is – yes. He swings on the same hook as I do."

"Indeed. Then Lord Garvington was aware that you shot Pine?"

"I was not! I was not!" screamed the head of the Lambert family, jumping up and clenching his hands. "I swear I never knew the truth until you brought the bullet to the library to fit the revolver."

"The – the – bullet!" stammered Silver, whose smooth red hair was almost standing on end from sheer fright.

"Yes," said Lambert, addressing him sharply. "Kara, under the direction of Chaldea, found the bullet in the trunk of the elm tree which was in the line of fire. She came with me to The Manor this morning, and we found that it fitted the barrel of Lord Garvington's revolver. At the inquest, and on unimpeachable evidence, it was proved that he fired only the first shot, which disabled Pine without killing him. The second shot, which pierced the man's heart, could only have come from the second revolver, which was, and is, in your possession, Mr. Silver. The bullet found in the tree trunk will fit no other barrel of no other weapon. I'm prepared to swear to this."

Silver covered his face with his hands and looked so deadly white that Lambert believed he would faint. However, he pulled himself together, and addressed Garvington anxiously. "You know, my lord, that you locked up the house on that night, and that I was indoors."

"Yes," admitted the other hesitating. "So far as I knew you certainly were inside. It is true, Noel," he added, catching his cousin's eye. "Even to save myself I must admit that."

"Oh, you'd admit anything to save yourself," retorted his cousin contemptuously, and noting the mistake in the wording of the sentence. "But admitting that Silver was within doors doesn't save you, so far as I can see."

"There is no need for Lord Garvington to excuse himself," spoke up Silver, attempting to enlist the little man on his side by defending him. "It was proved at the inquest, as you have admitted, Mr. Lambert, that he only fired the first shot."

"And you fired the second."

"I never did. I was inside and in bed. I only came down with the rest of the guests when I heard the firing. Is that not so, my lord?"

"Yes," admitted Garvington grudgingly. "So far as I know you had nothing to do with the second shot."

Silver turned a relieved face toward Lambert. "I shall confess this much, sir," he said, trying to speak calmly and judicially. "Pine treated me badly by taking my toy inventions and by giving me very little money. When I was staying at The Manor I learned that Lord Garvington had also been treated badly by Pine. He said if we could get money that we should go shares. I knew that Pine was jealous of his wife, and that you were at the cottage here, so I suggested that, as Lord Garvington could imitate handwriting, he should forge a letter purporting to come from Lady Agnes to you, saying that she intended to elope on a certain night. Also I told Lord Garvington to talk a great deal about shooting burglars, so as to give color to his shooting Pine."

"It was arranged to shoot him, then?"

"No, it wasn't," cried Garvington, glaring at Silver. "All we wanted to do was to break Pine's arm or leg so that he might be laid up in The Manor."

"Yes, that is so," said Silver feverishly, and nodding. "I fancied – and for this reason I suggested the plot – that when Pine was ill, both Lord Garvington and myself could deal with him in an easier manner. Also – since the business would be left in my hands – I hoped to take out some money from various investments, and share it with Lord Garvington. We never meant that Pine should be killed, but only reduced to weakness so that we might force him to give us both money."

"A very ingenious plot," said Lambert grimly and wondering how much of the story was true. "And then?"

"Then Lord Garvington wrote the letter, and when seeing Pine, I gave it to him saying that while keeping watch on his wife – as he asked me to," said Silver with an emphasis which made Lambert wince, "I had intercepted the letter. Pine was furious, as I knew he would be, and said that he would come to the blue door at the appointed time to prevent the supposed elopement. I told Lord Garvington, who was ready, and – "

"And I went down, pretending that Pine was a burglar," said Lord Garvington, continuing the story in a most shameless manner. "I opened the door quite expecting to find him there. He rushed me, believing in his blind haste that I was Agnes coming to elope with you. I shot him in the arm, and he staggered away, while I shut the door again. Whether, on finding his mistake, and knowing that he had met me instead of Agnes, he intended to go away, I can't say, as I was on the wrong side of the door. But Agnes, attracted to the window by the shot, declared – and you heard her declare it at the inquest, Noel – that Pine walked rapidly away and was shot just as he came abreast of the shrubbery. That's all."

"And quite enough, too," said Lambert savagely. "You tricky pair of beasts; I suppose you hoped to implicate me in the crime?"

"It wasn't a crime," protested Silver; "but only a way to get money. By going up to London you certainly delayed what we intended to do, since we could not carry out our plan until you returned. You did for one night, as Chaldea, who was on the watch for you, told us, and then we acted."

"Did Chaldea know of the trap?"

"No! She knew nothing save that I" – it was Silver who spoke – "wanted to know about your return. She found the letter in Pine's tent, and really believed that Lady Agnes had written it, and that you had shot Pine. It was to force you by threats to marry her that she gave the letter to me."

"And she instructed you to show it to the police," said Lambert between his teeth, "whereas you tried to blackmail Lady Agnes."

"I had to make my money somehow," said Silver insolently. "Pine was dead and Lady Agnes had the coin."

"You were to share in the twenty-five thousand pounds, I suppose?" Lambert asked his cousin indignantly.

"No; Silver blackmailed on his own. I hoped to get money from Agnes in another way – as her hard-up brother that is. And if – "

"Oh, shut up! You make me sick," interrupted Lambert, suppressing a strong desire to choke his cousin. "You are as bad as Silver."

"And Silver is as innocent as Lord Garvington," struck in that gentleman, whose face was recovering its natural color.

Lambert turned on him sharply. "I don't agree with that. You shot Pine!"

Silver sprang up with a hysterical cry. He had judged like Agag that the bitterness of death was past, but found that he was not yet safe. "I did not shoot Pine," he declared, wringing his hands. "Oh, why can't you believe me."

"Because Garvington gave you the second revolver and with that – on the evidence of the bullet – Pine was murdered."

"That might be so, but – but – " Silver hesitated, and shivered and looked round with a hunted expression in his eyes.

"But what? You may as well explain to me."

"I shan't – I refuse to. I am innocent! You can't hurt me!"

Lambert brushed aside this puny rage. "Inspector Darby can. I shall go to Wanbury this evening and tell him all."

"No; don't do that!" cried Garvington, greatly agitated. "Think of me – think of the family!"

"I think of Justice! You two beasts aren't fit to be at large. I'm off," and he made for the door.

In a moment Silver was clutching his coat. "No, don't!" he screamed. "I am innocent! Lord Garvington, say that I am innocent!"

"Oh, – you, get out of the hole as best you can! I'm in as big a mess as you are, unless Lambert acts decently."

"Decently, you wicked little devil," said Lambert scornfully. "I only propose to do what any decent man would do. You trapped Pine by means of the letter, and Silver shot him."

"I didn't! I didn't!"

"You had the revolver!"

"I hadn't. I gave it away! I lent it!" panted Silver, crying with terror.

"You lent it – you gave it – you liar! Who to?"

Silver looked round again for some way of escape, but could see none. "To Miss Greeby. She – she – she – she shot Pine. I swear she did."

CHAPTER XIX.

MOTHER COCKLESHELL

It was late in the afternoon when Lambert got back to the village inn, and he felt both tired and bewildered. The examination of Silver had been so long, and what he revealed so amazing, that the young man wished to be alone, both to rest and to think over the situation. It was a very perplexing one, as he plainly saw, since, in the light of the new revelations, it seemed almost impossible to preserve the name of the family from disgrace. Seated in his sitting room, with his legs stretched out and his hands in his pockets, Lambert moodily glared at the carpet, recalling all that had been confessed by the foxy secretary of Miss Greeby. That he should accuse her of committing the crime seemed unreasonable.

According to Silver, the woman had overheard by chance the scheme to lure Pine to The Manor. Knowing that the millionaire was coming to Abbot's Wood, the secretary had propounded the plan to Garvington long before the man's arrival. Hence the constant talk of the host about burglars and his somewhat unnecessary threat to shoot any one who tried to break into the house. The persistence of this remark had roused Miss Greeby's curiosity, and noting that Silver and his host were frequently in one another's company, she had seized her opportunity to listen. For some time, so cautious were the plotters, she had heard nothing particular, but after her recognition of Hearne as Pine when she visited the gypsy camp she became aware that these secret talks were connected with his presence. Then a chance remark of Garvington's – he was always loose-tongued – gave her the clue, and by threats of exposure she managed to make Silver confess the whole plot. Far from thwarting it she agreed to let them carry it out, and promised secrecy, only extracting a promise that she should be advised of the time and place for the trapping of the millionaire. And it was this acquiescence of Miss Greeby's which puzzled Lambert.

On the face of it, since she was in love with him, it was better for her own private plans that Pine should remain alive, because the marriage placed Agnes beyond his reach. Why, then, should Miss Greeby have removed the barrier – and at the cost of being hanged for murder? Lambert had asked Silver this question, but had obtained no definite answer, since the secretary protested that she had not explained her reasons. Jokingly referring to possible burglars, she had borrowed the revolver from Silver which he had obtained from Garvington, and it was this action which first led the little secretary to suspect her. Afterward, knowing that she had met Pine in Abbot's Wood, he kept a close watch on her every action to see if she intended to take a hand in the game. But Silver protested that he could see no reason for her doing so, and even up to the moment when he confessed to Lambert could not conjecture why she had acted in such a manner.

However, it appeared that she was duly informed of the hour when Pine would probably arrive to prevent the pretended elopement, and also learned that he would be hanging about the blue door. When Silver retired for the night he watched the door of her bedroom – which was in the same wing of the mansion of his own. Also he occasionally looked out to see if Pine had arrived, as the window of his room afforded a fair view of the blue door and the shrubbery. For over an hour – as he told Lambert – he divided his attention between the passage and the window. It was while looking out of the last, and after midnight, that he saw Miss Greeby climb out of her room and descend to the ground by means of the ivy which formed a natural ladder. Her window was no great height from the ground, and she was an athletic woman much given to exercise. Wondering what she intended to do, yet afraid – because of Pine's expected arrival – to leave the house, Silver watched her cautiously. She was arrayed in a long black cloak with a hood, he said, but in the brilliant moonlight he could easily distinguish her gigantic form as she slipped into the shrubbery. When Pine arrived, Silver saw him dash at the blue door when it was opened by Garvington, and saw him fall back after the first shot. Then he heard the shutting of the door; immediately afterward the opening of Lady Agnes's window, and noted that Pine ran quickly and unsteadily down the path. As he passed the shrubbery, the second shot came – at this point Silver simply gave the same description as Lady Agnes did at the inquest – and then Pine fell. Afterward Garvington and his guests came out and gathered round the body, but Miss Greeby, slipping along the rear of the shrubbery, doubled back to the shadow at the corner of the house. Silver, having to play his part, did not wait to see her re-enter the mansion, but presumed she did so by clambering up the ivy. He ran down and mingled with the guests and servants, who were clustered round the dead man, and finally found Miss Greeby at his elbow, artlessly inquiring what had happened. For the time being he accepted her innocent attitude.

Later on, when dismissed by Jarwin and in want of funds, he sought out Miss Greeby and accused her. At first she denied the story, but finally, as she judged that he could bring home the crime to her, she compromised with him by giving him the post of her secretary at a good salary. When he obtained the forged letter from Chaldea – and she learned this from Lambert when he was ill – Miss Greeby made him give it to her, alleging that by showing it to Agnes she could the more positively part the widow from her lover. Miss Greeby, knowing who had written the letter, counted upon Agnes guessing the truth, and had she not seen that it had entered her mind, when the letter was brought to her, she would have given a hint as to the forger's name. But Agnes's hesitation and sudden paleness assured Miss Greeby that she guessed the truth, so the letter was left to work its poison. Silver, of course, clamored for his blackmail, but Miss Greeby promised to recompense him, and also threatened if he did not hold his tongue that she would accuse him and Garvington of the murder. Since the latter had forged the letter and the former had borrowed the revolver which had killed Pine, it would have been tolerably easy for Miss Greeby to substantiate her accusation. As to her share in the crime, all she had to do was to deny that Silver had passed the borrowed revolver on to her, and there was no way in which he could prove that he had done so. On the whole, Silver had judged it best to fall in with Miss Greeby's plans, and preserve silence, especially as she was rich and could supply him with whatever money he chose to ask for. She was in his power, and he was in her power, so it was necessary to act on the golden rule of give and take.