The Opal Serpent Part 47

"Yes. But you didn't mention that your mother had been hanged for poisoning your father."

Mrs. Krill turned ghastly pale. "No," she said in a suffocating voice, "such is the case; but can you wonder that I forebore to mention that fact? My daughter knows nothing of that--nor did my husband--"

"Which husband do you mean, Krill or Jessop?" asked Hurd.

Mrs. Krill gasped and rose, swaying. "What do you mean, man?"

"This," said the detective, on his feet at once; "this person hunted out the early life of Anne Tyler at Stowley. It was discovered that Anne was the daughter of a woman who had been hanged, and of a man who had been murdered. Also this person found that Anne Tyler married a sailor called Jarvey Jessop some years before she committed bigamy with Lemuel Krill in Beechill Church--"

"It's a lie!" screamed Mrs. Krill, losing her self-control. "How dare you come here with these falsehoods?"

"They are not falsehoods, Anne Tyler, _alias_ Anne Jessop, _alias_ Anne Krill, etc.," retorted Hurd, speaking rapidly and emphasizing his remarks with his finger in his usual fashion when in deadly earnest.

"You were married to Jessop in Stowley Church; you bore him a daughter who was christened Maud Jessop in Stowley Church. The person I mentioned sent me copies of the marriage and birth certificates. So your marriage with Lemuel Krill was false, and his second marriage with Lillian Garner is a good one in law. Which means, Mrs. Jessop," Hurd hurled the word at her and she shrank, "that Sylvia Norman or Sylvia Krill, as she rightfully is, owns that money which you wrongfully withhold from her.

The will gave the five thousand a year to 'my daughter,' and Sylvia is the only daughter and only child--the legitimate child, mark you--of Lemuel Krill."

"Lies--lies--lies!" raged Mrs. Krill, as she may still be called, though rightfully Jessop, "I'll defend the case on my daughter's behalf."

"_Your_ daughter, certainly," said Hurd, "but not Krill's."

"I say yes."

"And I say no. She was fifteen when Lady Rachel was murdered, as Jessop, her father, admitted. I knew the man was keeping something back, but I was far from suspecting that it was this early marriage. No wonder the man came to you and had free quarters at 'The Red Pig.' He could have prosecuted you for bigamy, just as you would have prosecuted Krill, had you not murdered him."

Mrs. Krill gave a yell and her eyes blazed. "You hound!" she shouted, "do you accuse me of that?"

"I do more than accuse you, I arrest you." Hurd produced the warrant. "A man is waiting in the cab. We'll get a four-wheeler, and you'll come along with me to gaol, Mrs. Jessop."

"You can't prove it--you can't prove it," she panted, "and I sha'n't go--I sha'n't--I sha'n't!" and her eyes sought the tapestry.

"Miss Jessop can come out," said Hurd, coolly, "and, as to your not coming, a few policemen will soon put that right."

"How dare you insult me and my daughter?"

"Come, come," said the detective, sternly, "I've had quite enough of this. You offered me one thousand pounds to learn who killed your so-called husband, Krill. I have earned the reward--"

"Not one shilling shall you have."

"Oh, I think so. Miss Sylvia will pay it to me, and you--"

"I am innocent. I never touched the man."

"A jury will decide that, Mrs. Jessop."

"Krill--my name is Krill."

Hurd laughed and turned towards the tapestry.

"What do you say, Miss Jessop?" he asked.

Seeing that further concealment was at an end, Maud lifted the tapestry, which concealed a small door, through which she had silently stolen to listen. She advanced calmly. "I have heard all your conversation with my mother," she declared with flashing eyes, "and not one word of it is true. I am the daughter of Lemuel Krill."

"You'll find that hard to prove in the face of your birth certificate and your mother's marriage to Captain Jessop, your father."

"It will all be put right."

"Quite so, and Miss Norman will get the money."

"That girl--never!" cried Maud, fiercely. She looked very like her mother at the moment, but the more angry she grew the calmer became Mrs.

Krill, who kept darting anxious glances at her daughter. "And you sha'n't take my mother away," she cried threateningly.

"I don't want to make a scandal in the neighborhood," said Hurd, taking a small whistle from his pocket, "but if I blow this my man out there will call the nearest policeman, and then--"

"There is no need," interrupted Mrs. Krill, who had recovered her self-control. "Maud, come over beside me. On what grounds, Mr. Hurd, do you accuse me of the crime? I was not in town on--"

"Oh, yes, you were, Mrs. Jessop. Pash can prove that you were in his office and took the brooch left by Tray from the table. I don't know where you stopped on that night--"

"At Judson's Hotel, Strand," cried Maud, placing herself beside her mother, "and anyone there can prove that my mother and myself were within doors after we came from Terry's Theatre, where we spent the evening. As my father--for Krill _was_ my father--was killed after twelve, and we were both in bed in one room before then, your accusation falls to the ground. My mother was with me, and she did not leave the whole evening. Next day we went to Christchurch."

Hurd was rather staggered by the positive way in which the young woman spoke. But the facts were too plain for him to hesitate. "I must trouble you to come along with me," he said. "No, don't go!"

"To put on my cloak and hat?" urged Mrs. Krill. "I'll come quietly enough. I don't want a scandal. I am sure when the magistrate hears what I have to say he will let me go free."

"I trust so. But you must not leave the room. Matilda will, no doubt, bring your things."

Mrs. Krill touched the electric b.u.t.ton of the bell, while Maud walked up and down, deathly white and fuming. "Mr. Hay shall see to this," she said in a cold rage.

"Mr. Hay will have quite enough to do to look after himself," said the detective, coolly; "you had better let your mother go quietly, and I won't say anything to Matilda Junk."

"Yes, do, Maud," urged the mother, placing an imploring hand on her tall daughter's shoulder; "it's better so. Everything will be put right when the magistrate hears my story."

"What will you tell him, mother?" asked Maud.

"That I am innocent, and that I am, as you are, ignorant of who killed your unfortunate father."

Matilda entered the room and heard that Mrs. Krill had to go out on business with Mr. Hurd. On receiving her orders she departed, and presently returned with the cloak and hat. Mrs. Krill, who was now quite cool, put these on. Hurd could not but admire the brave way in which she faced the terrible situation. Maud seemed to be far more upset, and Hurd wondered if the young woman knew the truth. Mrs. Krill kept soothing her. "It will be all right, my love. Don't excite yourself. It will be all right," she said several times.

Miss Junk departed, and Mrs. Krill said that she was ready to depart.

Hurd offered her his arm, which she rejected, and walked to the door with a firm step, although her face was rather white. At the door she caught her daughter round the neck and kissed her several times, after which she whispered earnestly in her ear, and then went down the stairs with the detective in attendance. Maud, with white lips and cheeks, but with dry eyes, followed. When her mother was safely in the cab, the plain-clothes policeman alighted, so that Hurd might take his place.

Maud came quietly down the steps and seized the detective by the arm.

"You have ruined my mother," she said in a cold, hard tone; "you have robbed me of my money and of the chance of marrying the man I love. I can't hurt you; but that girl, Sylvia--she shall never get one penny--so, remember!"

Hurd shook her off, and, stepping into the cab, drove away. Mrs. Krill looked apprehensively at him. "What did Maud say?" she asked. Hurd told her, and Mrs. Krill closed her lips firmly. "Maud is quite right," she said with a strange smile. "Sylvia will never get the money."

CHAPTER XXV