The Opal Serpent Part 32

and this he did, and then continued. "But I'm anxious to find Jessop. I shouldn't be at all surprised to learn that he committed the double crime."

"The double crime?"

"Yes. He might have strangled Lady Rachel, and twenty years later have killed Krill. I can't be sure, but I think he is the guilty person."

CHAPTER XVIII

AT CHRISTCHURCH, HANTS

The next afternoon Hurd was on his way to the former abode of Mrs.

Krill. During the journey he glanced at his notes and arranged what inquiries he should make. It struck him as strange that Mrs. Krill should have told Paul of her a.s.sociation with "The Red Pig," considering the reputation of the place, in connection with Lady Rachel Sandal's murder--or suicide. It would have been better had Mrs. Krill changed her name by letters patent and have started a new life on her dead husband's money. The detective could not understand the reason for this unnecessary frankness.

Before leaving town he took the precaution to call on Pash and note down a description of the sailor--presumably Jessop--who had tried to obtain possession of the jewels on the morning after the crime had been committed in Gwynne Street. He learned that the man (who had given no name) was tall and stout, with the flushed skin of a habitual drinker of strong waters, and reddish hair mixed with grey. He also had a scar running from his right temple to his mouth, and although this was partly concealed by a beard, yet it was distinctly visible. The man was dressed in blue serge, carried his large hands slightly clenched, and rolled in his gait. Hurd noted these things down, and had little doubt but what he would recognize the man if he came across him. Connecting him with the individual who had p.a.w.ned the brooch at Stowley, Hurd fancied he might be Jessop. He resolved to look for him in Southampton, as, judging from the evidence given at the inquest on Lady Rachel's remains, that was the port of call for the mariner.

At the station immediately before that of Christchurch, Hurd glanced at a telegram which he produced out of his pocket-book, and then leaned out of the carriage window. A pretty, daintily-dressed little woman saw him and at once entered the carriage with a gay laugh. She was Miss Aurora Qian, and Paul would have been considerably astonished had he overheard her conversation with Mr. Hurd. But the detective and the actress had the compartment to themselves, and talked freely.

"It's the safest place to talk in," explained Miss Qian, producing a bag of chocolate and eating during the conversation. "Of course, I told the landlady at 'The Red Pig' that my brother was coming down, so we can go there right enough. But walls have ears. I don't think railway carriages have, though, and we have much to say, Billy."

"Have you found out anything, Aurora?" asked Hurd.

Miss Qian nodded. "A great deal considering I have been in the place only twenty-four hours. It's a good thing I'm out of an engagement, Billy, or I shouldn't have time to leave London or to look after that man Hay. I _am_ a good sister."

"Well, you are. But there's money in the business also. If I can get that thousand pounds, you'll have your share."

"I know you'll treat me straight, Billy," said the actress, with much satisfaction. "I always say that my brother is as square a man as I know."

"The deuce you do," said Hurd, rather vexed. "I hope you don't go telling everyone that I am your brother, Aurora?"

"Only one or two special friends--not Hay, you may be sure. Nor does that nice Mr. Beecot know that we are brother and sister."

"You'd best keep it dark, and say nothing, Aurora. It's just as well you left the private detective business and went on the stage. You talk too much."

"Oh, no, I don't," retorted Miss Qian, eating a sweet. "Don't be nasty, Billy, or I'll tell you nothing."

Her brother shrugged his shoulders. He was very fond of Aurora, but he saw her many faults, and she certainly had too long a tongue for one engaged in private matters. "What about Hay?" he asked.

Aurora raised her eyes. "I thought you wanted to know of my discoveries at Christchurch," she said, pouting.

"Well, I do. But Hay?--"

"Oh, he's all right. He's going to marry Miss Krill and her money, and is getting cash together by fleecing young Sandal. That fool _will_ play, and keeps losing his money, although I've warned him."

"Then don't warn him. I wish to catch Hay red-handed."

"Ah," Miss Qian nodded, "you may catch him red-handed in a worse matter than gambling."

"Aurora, you don't mean to say he has anything to do with the murder of Aaron Norman?"

"Well, I don't go so far as to say that, Billy. But when I got settled in the private sitting-room of 'The Red Pig' on the plea that I had come down for a change of air, and expected my brother--"

"Which you do without any lies."

"Yes, that's all right, Billy," she said impatiently. "Well, the first thing I clapped eyes on was a portrait of Grexon Hay in a silver frame on the mantelpiece."

"Hum," said Hurd, nursing his chin in his hand, "he may have given that to Miss Krill during the engagement."

"I daresay," rejoined the actress, tartly, "for he has been engaged for many a long day--say two years."

"I thought so," said Hurd, triumphantly. "I always fancied the meeting at Pash's office was a got-up thing."

"What made you think so?"

"Because, when disguised as the Count de la Tour, I overheard Hay address Miss Krill as Maud, and it was the first time she and her mother came to his rooms. Sandal was there, and gambling went on as usual. I lost money myself," said Hurd, with a grimace, "in order to make Hay think I was another pigeon to pluck. But the mention of the Christian name on so short an acquaintance showed me that Hay and Miss Krill had met before. I expect the meeting at Pash's office was a got-up game."

"You said that before, Billy. How you repeat yourself! Yes. There's an inscription on the portrait--'From Grexon to Maud with much love'--sweet, isn't it? when you think what an icicle the man is. There is also a date--two years ago the photograph was given. I admired the photograph and asked the landlady who was the swell."

"What's the landlady's name?"

"Matilda Junk."

Hurd almost jumped from his seat. "That's queer," he said, "the woman who is devoted to Miss Norman and who nursed her since she was a baby is called Deborah Junk."

"I know that," said Aurora, "I'm not quite a fool, Billy. I mentioned Deborah Junk, whom I saw at the inquest on Norman's body. The landlady said she was her sister, but she had not heard of her for ages. And this Matilda is just like Deborah in looks--a large Dutch doll with beady eyes and a badly painted face."

"Well, that's a point," said Hurd, making a note. "What did she say about the photograph?"

"Oh, that it was one of Mr. Hay who was Miss Krill's young man, and that they had been engaged for two years--"

"Matilda seems to be a chatterbox."

"She is. I got a lot out of her."

"Then there can be nothing to conceal on the part of Mrs. Krill?"

"Well," said Aurora, throwing the empty sweetmeat bag out of the window and brus.h.i.+ng her lap, "so far as I can discover, Mrs. Krill is a perfectly respectable person, and has lived for thirty years as the landlady of 'The Red Pig.' Matilda acknowledged that her mistress had inherited the money of Lemuel Krill, and Matilda knows all about the murder."

"Matilda is wrong," said the detective, dryly; "Miss Krill gets the money."

Aurora smiled. "From what I heard, Miss Krill has to do what her mother tells her. She's n.o.body and her mother is all the world. Matilda confessed that her mistress had behaved very well to her. When the money came, she gave up 'The Red Pig' to Matilda Junk, who is now the landlady."

"With a proviso she should hold her tongue."

"No. Mrs. Krill, so far as I can learn, has nothing to conceal. Even if it becomes known in London that she was the landlady of a small pub, I don't think it will matter."

"Did you ask questions about Lady Rachel's murder?"