The Hand in the Dark
of the room, and the doors of a cabinet had been forced. Even the
pictures on the wall had been disarranged, and some of the chairs were
knocked over.
"Where did you find these things?" asked Caldew, picking up the revolver
and examining it.
"In that gimcrack thing over there." Merrington pointed to a slight,
elegant writing-table standing in a corner of the room. "Isn't it a
typical female hiding-place? About as safe as burying your head in the
sand. The drawer had been locked and the key taken away, but it was
quite easy to open. The lock is a trumpery kind of thing, with the bolt
shooting into the soft wood."
"I see that the revolver is still loaded in five chambers," said Caldew,
as he put down the weapon.
"Yes, and the sixth has been recently discharged. We don't require much
clearer evidence than that. And look at this handkerchief. The blood on
it is hardly dry yet."
Caldew took the handkerchief in his hand. As Merrington remarked, the
blood on it was hardly dry. It was a small linen square, destitute of
feminine adornment except for a dainty "H R" worked in silk in one
corner. The letters were barely visible in the blood with which the
whole handkerchief was saturated.
"I wonder how she got the blood on the handkerchief?" said Caldew. "Did
she try to stop the bleeding after shooting Mrs. Heredith?"
"It would be just like a woman to do so," grunted Merrington. "Women are
fond of crying over spilt milk--especially when they have spilt it
themselves. However, that's neither here nor there. The point is that
this is the girl's handkerchief, and this is the revolver with which she
shot Mrs. Heredith."
"But what was her motive for committing such an atrocious crime?" asked
Captain Stanhill in bewilderment.
"Jealousy," responded Merrington promptly. "I saw the possibility of
that motive as soon as I heard Milly Saker's story, and learnt that
Hazel Rath had lived for some years in the moat-house. Young Heredith
and she must have been thrown together a lot before the war, and there
was doubtless a flirtation between them which probably developed into an
intrigue. There are all the materials at hand for it--a well-born idle
young man, a girl educated above her station, a lonely country-house,
and plenty of opportunity. I know the type of girl well. These
half-educated protegees of great ladies grow up with all the whims and
caprices of fine females, and their silly little heads are easily
turned. Probably this girl imagined that young Heredith was so
captivated by her pretty face that he would marry her. When she learnt
that she had been dropped for somebody else she brooded in secret until
her unbalanced nature led her to commit this terrible crime. Moreover,
she is the daughter of a woman with a queer past, who has been living
under an assumed name for the past fifteen years."
"Do you think mother and daughter have acted in collusion in this
murder?" Caldew asked.
"That is a question I would not care to answer offhand," responded
Merrington thoughtfully. "Undoubtedly the mother shielded the daughter
and lied to save her, and she obviously knew that the girl was absent
from her room at the time the murder was committed. How far this implies
guilty knowledge, or the acts of an accomplice, we are not yet in a
position to say. We will arrest the daughter, and detain the mother--for
the present, at all events. Whether we charge the mother as well as the
daughter will depend on our subsequent investigations. It will be no
novelty for the mother to be charged as accessory in a murder case,"
concluded Merrington, with a grim smile.
"We have no direct evidence that the girl went upstairs last night,"
said Caldew, with a reflective air. "Milly Saker did not see her going
upstairs, and apparently nobody saw her coming away."
"No direct evidence, it is true. But the presumptive evidence is so
strong that it is hardly needed. In the first place, Milly Saker saw her
going down the hall in the direction of the left wing just before the
murder was committed. Next day--this morning--the housekeeper sent Milly
Saker out of the way before she could be questioned by the police. That
act suggests two inferences. First, Mrs. Rath, as she calls herself, had
some inkling that Milly Saker saw her daughter in the hall on the
previous night, and secondly, that Mrs. Rath feared, in the light of
subsequent events, to let it be known that her daughter was seen walking
down the hall before the murder was committed. From these inferences we
may conclude that, even if the mother had no actual knowledge of the
crime, she believed that her daughter was guilty. Her subsequent actions
to-day confirm that theory in every respect. And, of course, the
recovery of this revolver and the girl's handkerchief in her mother's
rooms, where she slept last night, is the strongest possible proof that
the girl shot Mrs. Heredith."
"Of course there can be no doubt of that. It would be impossible to find
a stronger case of circumstantial evidence," said Caldew earnestly. "But
here is a piece of direct evidence. Look here!" He produced the little
brooch from his pocket and placed it on the table beside the revolver
and the handkerchief. "This is the brooch I told you about. It is the
brooch I saw in Mrs. Heredith's room which disappeared while I was
downstairs. I found it stuck in a pincushion in the next room, beside
the girl's hat. She must have realized that she dropped it in the
murdered woman's bedroom, and seized the opportunity to return for it
while I was out of the room. That is a piece of direct evidence that she
was in Mrs. Heredith's bedroom."
"So you were right about the brooch. I owe you an apology for that,
Caldew," said Merrington. He placed the little trinket in his big hand,
and turned it over with his finger. The inscription on the back caught
his eye, and he held it closer to read it. "Semper Fidelis!" he
exclaimed. "The words are typical of the girl. The wishy-washy sentiment
would appeal to her, and she's of that partly educated type which thinks
a Latin tag imposing. I wonder who gave it to her? Oh, I have it! It was
probably a gift from young Heredith, and she added the inscription on
her own account so as to enhance the value of the gift and keep her
'Faithful Always.'"
Once more Caldew reluctantly admitted to himself that Merrington's
deductions were more swift and vigorous than his own, but he was
secretly annoyed to think that the other had gained partly by guesswork
the solution of a clue which had caused him so much thought and
perplexity.
"The brooch is no more direct evidence than the revolver and
handkerchief," continued Merrington. "The girl, unless she is a born
fool, is not likely to admit ownership of any one of them. She would be
putting the rope round her own neck to do so."
"I realize that," replied Caldew. "But I think that she might be trapped
into giving away that she owns the brooch. Women are very impulsive
where the loss of ornaments is concerned, and then their actions are
instinctive. I have frequently noticed it."
"And how do you propose to find out?" asked Merrington.
"By asking her."
"You'll get nothing out of this girl for the asking," replied
Merrington. "She runs deeper than that, or I am very much mistaken.
However, ask your own questions, by all means, after I have questioned
her about the revolver and the handkerchief. Let us get back to the
library."
They returned to the library. Sergeant Lumbe opened the door in response
to their knock, his face furrowed with the responsibilities of office.
Mother and daughter were sitting where they had left them, but the elder
woman had regained some measure of composure, and was staring drearily
in front of her. She did not look at the police officials as they
entered, but Hazel glanced towards them, and her eyes fell on the
revolver and handkerchief which Merrington carried in his hand. It
seemed to Caldew that her face remained unmoved. Merrington walked over
to her.
"You must consider yourself under arrest on a charge of murdering Mrs.
Heredith," he said, in quiet, almost conversational tones. "This
revolver and this handkerchief were found in your mother's sitting-room.
If you have any explanation to make you may do so, but it is my duty to
warn you that any statement you make now may be used in evidence against
you later on."
"I have nothing to say," replied the girl simply.
"You decline to say how this revolver came into your possession, or make
any explanation about the bloodstains on this handkerchief?"
"Yes."
"Do you also refuse to tell us what you have done with the brooch you
were wearing last night?" added Caldew.
The girl, with an impulsive instinctive gesture, hastily put her hand to
the neck of her blouse, then, realizing that she had unconsciously
betrayed herself, she let it fall slowly to her side.
CHAPTER XIV
The popular fallacy which likens circumstantial evidence to a chain
naturally found no acceptance in the mind of Superintendent Merrington.
If a link in a chain snaps, the captive springs free, but if he is bound
by a rope it is necessary for all the strands to be severed before
liberty can be regained.
Merrington remained at Heredith to weave additional strands for the rope
of circumstantial evidence by which Hazel Rath was held for the murder
of Violet Heredith. It was a good strong case as it stood, but
Merrington had seen too many strong ropes nibbled through by sharp legal
teeth to leave anything to chance. If the circumstances against Hazel
Rath remained open to an alternative explanation--if, for example, the
defence suggested that the mother was implicated in the crime and the
daughter was silent in order to shield her, it might be difficult to
obtain a conviction. Merrington knew by wide experience how alternative
theories weakened the case of circumstantial evidence, no matter how
strong the presumption from the known facts appeared to be.
A useful strand in circumstantial evidence is motive, and it was motive
that Merrington sought to prove against Hazel Rath. His own inference
about the crime, swiftly and boldly reached shortly before he arrested
her, was that the girl was in love with Phil Heredith, and had murdered
his young wife through jealousy. Hazel's silence in the face of
accusation supported that theory, in his opinion. She was ashamed to
confess, not the crime, but the hopeless love which had inspired it.
Women were like that, Merrington reflected. A woman who dared to commit
murder would blush to admit, even to herself, that she had given her
love to a man who was out of her reach. But it is one thing to hold a
theory, and another thing to prove it in the eyes of the law. As Hazel
Rath was not likely to help the Crown establish motive by confessing her
love for Philip Heredith, it was left to Superintendent Merrington to
establish his theory, by all the independent facts and inferences he was
able to bring to light.
This proved more difficult than he anticipated. He had visualized the
situation with excellent insight up to a certain point, and he had
imagined that it would not be a difficult matter to obtain proofs of the
existence of an early flirtation or intrigue between Phil Heredith and
the pretty girl who had occupied an anomalous position in the
moat-house. But a further examination of the inmates of the household
failed to furnish any proofs in support of that supposition. Merrington
could readily understand Miss Heredith and her brother denying such a
suggestion; but the fact that none of the servants had seen anything of
the kind was fairly convincing proof that no such relation existed.
No class have a keener instinct for scandal than the servants of a