CHAPTER IX

A STRANGE DISCOVERY

The offices of Asher, Son, and Asher were situated in a dark, narrow street in the City, which led down to the river. In former days the place might have been respectable, and then the original Asher had set up his official tent in the neighborhood; but civilization had moved westward, and Terry Street was looked on askance by fashionable solicitors. Nevertheless the firm of Asher continued to dwell in the dingy office, where their progenitors had slaved for close on a hundred years. It was quite good enough, thought the present head of the firm, for such well-known lawyers.

The firm did a good old-fashioned business, eminently respectable and safe. None of the three partners was a sharper, as Morley asserted; but as the firm had issued a judgment summons against the master of The Elms, he could scarcely be expected to think well of them. Old Mr. Asher rarely came to the office, preferring his country house and melon beds, and the business was conducted by the son and the other Asher, who was a cousin. Both these gentlemen were over forty, and in spite of a modern education were decidedly old-fashioned. There was something in the musty air of the Terry Street office that petrified them into old men before their due time. The three clerks who sat in the outer rooms were also elderly, and the sole youthful creature about the place was the office boy, a red-haired imp who answered to the name of Alexander. His surname was Benker, but was not thought sufficiently dignified for use in so sedate a place of business.

With some difficulty Steel found this musty haunt of the legal Muse, and sent up his name to the senior partner with a request for an interview. Alexander, whistling between his teeth, led him into a frowzy apartment lined with books and tin boxes, and furnished with a green baize-covered table heaped with legal papers, three chairs, and a mahogany sofa of the Early Victorian period. Mr. Asher, the son, might have belonged to the same epoch, in spite of his age, so rusty and smug did he look. His face was clean-shaven with the exception of side-whiskers; his hair was thin on the top and sparse on the sides, and he was dressed in a suit of solemn black, with a satin tie to match. In fact, he was the typical lawyer of melodrama, and Steel was surprised to find so ancient a survival in these modern days. But when they began to talk Asher proved to be quite able to hold his own, and was not at all fossilized in brain, whatever he might be in appearance. He knew not only the name of Steel, but all about the case and Steel's connection therewith. He referred in feeling terms to Daisy's death.

"A very charming girl, Mr. Steel," said the young-old lawyer. "On several occasions she has been here to draw her little income. It is sad that she should have met with her death at the hands of a jealous woman at the very time she was about to enjoy a legacy of five thousand a year."

"You don't say so!" cried Steel, who had heard nothing of this.

"Ah! Mr. Morley never informed you of the fact."

"Well, no, he didn't; but then, I have not seen him for over a week. I believe he is at Brighton with his wife. Who left this money to the late Miss Kent?"

"A relative of hers who died lately in Australia."

"And failing her who inherits?"

Mr. Asher reflected. "I don't know that you have any right to ask that question," he said, after a pause.

"Pardon me," replied the detective. "Miss Kent was murdered. I fancied that the money might have something to do with the commission of the crime."

"No, Mr. Steel. I read the evidence given at the inquest. Jealousy was the motive of the crime, and Miss Denham is guilty."

"I am somewhat of that way of thinking myself, Mr. Asher. And on the face of it there is no other way of accounting for the murder. Nevertheless it is just as well to look at the matter from all sides. The crime may be connected with the question of this fortune. You may as well tell me what I wish to know. I'll keep my mouth closed."

"Are you going to accuse our client of the crime?" asked Asher dryly. "I fear you will waste your time if you do. Since you look at the matter in this way, I don't mind speaking about what after all is not your business."

"That is as it may be," returned Steel enigmatically.

Asher passed this remark over. "Failing Miss Kent, the five thousand a year goes to George Franklin, a brother-in-law of the testator. We lately received a letter from him, informing us that he intended to claim the money."

"How did he know that he would inherit?"

"We advertised for him. He is quite unaware of the death of Miss Kent, and I daresay thinks Mr. Powell left the fortune to him direct."

"You can't be certain of his ignorance. However, let us give him the benefit of the doubt. Where did he write from?"

"From Florence, in Italy, where he has lived for four years. He will be in London next week, and if you want to see him——"

"I'll think of it," interrupted Steel. "There may be no need to trouble Mr. Franklin. At present I am searching for this clerk of yours, who went off with Miss Denham."

The lawyer raised his eyebrows with manifest surprise. "A clerk of ours, Mr. Steel? I don't quite follow you."

"I refer to the man who served a judgment summons on Mr. Morley."

"A boy served that," explained Asher. "The boy who showed you in."

Steel stared hard at the solicitor, trying to understand why he had made such a statement. "But that is absurd," he remarked. "I know that nothing was said at the inquest about the matter, as Mr. Morley did not wish it to be known that he was in such difficulties. But a tall man, with a reddish beard, dressed in a great-coat, with a white scarf, served the summons. Afterwards he went to the midnight service in the parish church, and lured Miss Kent outside by means of a note, which we cannot find. From what I have gathered this man went with Miss Denham in Mr. Ware's motor-car. He fled with her, and I fancy he must be either the assassin or an accessory after the fact."

Asher heard all this with extreme surprise. When Steel concluded he touched the bell. Alexander responded with his usual cheerful and impudent air. His master addressed him with some severity. "What about that summons which was served by you on Mr. Morley, of Rickwell?" he demanded.

The lad grew crimson to his ears, and looked at the floor much embarrassed. "I served it all right, sir," he mumbled.

"You served it," struck in Steel, with emphasis. "That is quite untrue. A tall man with a red beard served it."

"Alexander, tell the truth. What does this mean?"

The boy began to sob, and drew his coat-sleeve across his eye with a snuffle. "I thought it was all right," he said, "or I should not have given it to him."

"The summons! You gave it to someone to serve?"

"Yes, sir. To Mr. Wilson, mother's lodger."

"Is he tall? Has he a pale face and a red beard?" asked Steel.

"He has, sir. He's been with mother six months, and was always kind. When I got the summons he said that he was going into the country, and would serve it on Mr. Morley."

"Alexander," said Asher in an awful tone, "I gave you money for your railway fare to go to Rickwell. What have you done with that money, wretched boy?"

"I went to the Hippodrome with another boy," wept Alexander. "I thought as I'd take the holiday, as you'd think I was in the country. Please, sir, I'm very sorry, but I thought Mr. Wilson was all right."

"Did Mr. Wilson come back to say that all was right?" demanded Steel sharply.

"No, sir, he didn't. Mother and I ain't set eyes on him since he went away to serve the summons. I was afraid to tell you, sir," he added to his master, "'cause I knew I'd done wrong. But I hope you won't be hard on me, sir."

"Alexander," said Mr. Asher, "you have disgraced a most respectable office, and can no longer continue in it. You have spent money, you have wasted time, both given to you for a certain purpose. For the sake of your mother, who is a hard-working woman, I shall not take any legal steps. But from this day you cease to be in our employment. Your wages for the week shall be confiscated, since you have made free with my money. At five to-day, Alexander, you leave this place forever."

"Oh, sir—please, sir—I didn't——"

"Alexander, I have spoken. You can depart."

With a howl the boy went out of the room, and sat weeping in the outer office for at least ten minutes. He was wondering what he should say to his mother, for she was a terrible woman, with a short temper and a hard hand. His fellow-clerks demanded what was the matter, but Alexander had sense enough to keep his own counsel. All he said was that the governor had discharged him, and then he wept afresh.

While thus employed Steel made his appearance. He had been discussing the matter with Asher, and had proposed a course of action in connection with the delinquent to which Asher agreed. He advanced to the weeping Alexander and lifted him from his seat by the collar.

"Come, young man," said he, "take me home to your mother at once."

"Oh, Lor'," cried Alexander, "she'll give me beans!"

"You deserve the worst beating she can give you," said Steel severely, while the clerks grinned. "However, you must come with me. Where do you live?"

"Warder Street, Lambeth," snuffled Alexander, and urged by the hand on his collar, went out of the office with the detective.

"We'll take a hansom," said Steel, and shortly was ensconced in one with the miserable Alexander.

As a rule a ride in a hansom would have been a joy to Master Benker, but he was too much afraid of the meeting with his mother to take any pleasure in the treat. However, he relied on the promise of the detective that he would sooth the maternal ire, and managed to reply fairly well to the questions Steel asked. These referred to Mr. Wilson.

"Who is he?" demanded the detective.

"Mother's lodger," replied Alexander; "he's been with her six months, and mother thought a deal of him. He was kind to me."

"Ah! Was he well off?"

"I don't know. He paid his rent regular, but he wore shabby clothes, and was always out. I only saw him at night when I came home from the office."

"Did he ask you many questions about the office?"

"Oh, yes. He said he wished me to get on—that I was a smart boy, and a credit to my mother."

"So you are," answered Steel genially. "I'm sure she'll give you a proof of her approval to-day. Now don't cry, boy." Steel shook Alexander, and then demanded suddenly, "You copy all the letters, do you not?"

"Yes, I do," answered Master Benker, wondering why this was asked.

"And you read them sometimes?"

"Nearly always. I like to know what's going on. Mr. Wilson said I should make myself acquainted with everything."

"I'm sure he did," muttered Steel ironically. "Did you read any letter saying that Miss Kent had inherited a fortune? Miss Daisy Kent, who lived with Mr. Morley at Rickwell?"

Alexander thought for a moment. "Yes, I did. It was a letter to some lawyers in Sydney."

"Did you tell Mr. Wilson about it?"

"Yes, sir. He was always talking about people coming in for money, and I said that a girl called Miss Kent had come in for five thousand a year."

"I thought so. When did you tell Mr. Wilson this?"

"Three days after Christmas."

"Before he offered to serve the summons?"

"Why, I hadn't got the summons then," said Alexander. "Mr. Asher gave it to me the day before New Year. I said I was going into the country to Rickwell, for Mr. Wilson asked me what I was making myself smart for. He said he'd take the summons, and that I could go to the Hippodrome with Jim Tyler."

"Which you did on your employer's money. You are a smart lad, Alexander. What did your mother say?"

"Mother was out when I came home with the summons, and after Mr. Wilson said he'd take it I didn't say anything to her."

"Then she thought that on the day before the New Year you were at the office as usual?"

"Yes," snuffled Master Benker, "she did. Oh, Lor'!" as the cab stopped before a tidy house in a quiet street, "here we are."

"And there is your mother," said the detective cheerfully, as a severe face appeared at the white-curtained window.

Alexander wept afresh as Steel paid the cabman, and positively howled when the door opened and his mother—a lean woman in a black dress, with a widow's cap—appeared. He would have run away but that Steel again had a hand on his collar.

"Alexander," cried his mother harshly, "what have you been doing?"

"Nothing very dreadful, ma'am," interposed Steel. "It will be all right. Let me in, and I'll speak for my young friend."

"And who may you be, sir?" demanded Mrs. Benker, bristling.

"A personal friend of Mr. Asher's."

On hearing this dreaded name Mrs. Benker softened, and welcomed Steel into a neat parlor, where he seated himself in a horsehair mahogany chair of the most slippery description and related what had happened. Alexander stood by and wept all the time. He wept more when his mother spoke.

"I expected it," she said in quiet despair; "that boy is the bane of my life. I'll speak to you shortly, Alexander. Go to your room and retire to bed."

"Oh, mother! mother!" cried Master Benker, writhing at the prospect of a thorough whipping.

"Go to your room, Alexander, and make ready," repeated the widow, with a glare, and the boy retired slowly, wriggling and snuffling. When his sobs died away and an upstairs door was heard to close with a bang, Mrs. Benker addressed herself to Steel.

"I hope you will induce Mr. Asher to overlook this," she said, clasping a pair of lean, mittened hands; "I am so poor."

"I'll do my best," responded Steel; "that is, if you will give me some information about your late lodger, Mr. Wilson."

"Why should I do that?" asked Mrs. Benker suspiciously.

"Because Mr. Asher wishes to know all about him. You see, your son allowed Mr. Wilson to serve this summons, and it is necessary that Mr. Asher should learn where he is."

"That's only fair; but I don't know. Mr. Wilson has not returned here since he left on the day before New Year."

"Did he leave any luggage behind him?"

"No, sir, he didn't." Mrs. Benker paused, then continued, "I'll tell you exactly how it occurred, if Mr. Asher will make some allowance for the wickedness of that wretched boy of mine."

"I'll see what can be done, and use my influence with Mr. Asher."

"Thank you, sir," said the widow gratefully. "Well, sir, I was absent all the last day of the year, as I was seeing a married daughter of mine in Marylebone. Mr. Wilson was in the house when I left at ten in the morning, but said nothing about going away. When I returned at six in the evening I found that he was gone bag and baggage, and that he had left his rent on the table. Also a note saying that he was suddenly called away and would not return."

"Have you the note?" asked Steel, thinking it just as well to have some specimen of Wilson's handwriting.

Mrs. Benker shook her head. "I burnt it," she replied; "it was only written in pencil and not worth keeping. I must say that Mr. Wilson always behaved like a gentleman, although I saw little of him. He was queer in his habits."

"How do you mean—'queer'?"

"Well, sir, I hardly ever saw him in the daytime, and when I did he usually kept his blinds down in his room, as he suffered from weak eyes. Even when he saw Alexander in the evening he would hardly have any light. Then sometimes he would lie in bed all the day, and be out all the night. At other times he would stay at home the whole of the twenty-four hours. But he always paid his rent regularly, and gave little trouble over his food. Yes," added Mrs. Benker, smoothing her apron, "Mr. Wilson was always a gentleman. I will say that."

"Humph!" thought Steel, taking all this in eagerly. "A queer kind of gentleman," he added aloud. "Did you know anything else about him, Mrs. Benker?"

"No, sir." She drew herself up primly. "I never pry—never."

"Did any one call to see Mr. Wilson?"

"No one. All the time he was here not one person called."

"Did he receive any letters?"

"No. Not one letter arrived."

"Queer," murmured Steel. "What newspaper did he take?"

"The Morning Post. Also he took the World, Truth, Modern Society, and M. A. P. He was fond of the fashionable intelligence."

"Oh, he was, was he? Would you have called him a gentleman?"

"He always paid his rent duly," hesitated Mrs. Benker, "so far he was a perfect gentleman. But I have lived as a lady's maid in the best families, sir, and I don't think Mr. Wilson was what you or I would call an aristocrat."

"I see. So you were a lady's maid once. In what families?"

Mrs. Benker was not at all averse to relating her better days, and did so with pride. "I was with the Countess of Flint, with Mrs. Harwitch, and with Lady Susan Summersdale."

"Ha!" said Steel, starting. He remembered that Morley had been concerned with Lady Summersdale about the robbery of her jewels. "Did you tell Mr. Wilson this?" he asked.

"Oh, yes. We had long talks about aristocratic families."

She repeated several tales she had told Wilson, and Steel asked her many questions. When he took his leave he asked a leading one: "Did Mr. Wilson wear a red cross as an ornament?"

"On his watch-chain he did," said Mrs. Benker, and Steel departed very satisfied with his day's work.