The Red Window Part 42

The question was answered next day while Durham was still puzzling over the matter. Julius himself made his appearance, as meek-looking and mild as ever. The lawyer received him coldly and was on his guard. It was difficult to know why Beryl should pay a visit to an avowed enemy. But Julius soon explained the reason for his call.

"I have something extremely private to say to you, Mr. Durham," he remarked in a confidential way, and after a.s.suring himself ostentatiously that the door was closed.

"I am not your legal adviser," said Durham, quickly.

"You are Bernard's."

"I _was_ Bernard's, you mean."

"Does that intimate that you have quarrelled with Bernard?"

"You forget," said the solicitor, looking at him sharply. "Bernard is supposed to be dead."

"I don't think you ever believed that," said Beryl, smiling.

"That has nothing to do with you."

"Oh yes, it has. See here, Durham, I wrote to Miss Malleson some time ago, stating that I had seen Bernard in London."

"So I understand," said Durham, calmly. "Why did you not stop him?"

"I was not quick enough. He walked on the other side of the street, and before I could cross over, which was difficult on account of the traffic, Bernard disappeared. Then I was not quite sure if he really was alive. Now I am."

"Indeed?" said Durham, with a qualm, for he fancied Julius might have learned of Gore's whereabouts.

"Yes! That young Moon wrote a letter to me saying that Bernard had come to the Bower, starving and in rags."

It was on the tip of Durham's tongue to say that no doubt Jerry had been placed as a spy at the Bower, but he suppressed this remark. He firmly believed that Julius was a murderer, but as yet he saw some difficulty in bringing the crime home to him. He thought it would be best to give the man rope enough to hang himself. In other words, to listen quietly to what he had to say and act accordingly. Durham did not like having anything to do with such a scoundrel, but in the interests of Gore he had to smother all feelings save strictly professional ones. He therefore confined himself to silence, and to looking inquiringly at Beryl.

"You don't seem surprised," said Julius, annoyed.

"Because I can hardy believe your statement. Jerry may be making a mistake."

"Oh no. I went down on the receipt of his letter, and insisted on seeing my cousin. Miss Plantagenet--as I knew she would,--denied that he was there; but afterwards, when I threatened to bring the police on to the scene, she gave way and let me see Bernard."

"You are sure, then, that Bernard committed the crime?"

"Wait one moment, Mr. Durham," said Beryl, wagging his finger in a most irritating way. "Let us understand one another clearly. You know, and you have known for some time, that Bernard was at the Bower?"

"I am not bound to answer that question," said the lawyer, stiffly.

"Bernard answered it for you. He told me you had been to see him, and that in spite of the change in his looks you knew who he was."

Durham drew figures on his blotting-paper. He wondered if Julius really believed the man at the Bower to be Bernard Gore, or if he was trying to learn what he--Durham--thought himself. After some reflection the lawyer resolved to accept Michael as the man in question. Julius could not possibly know that the real Bernard was alive, and therefore it would be as wise to keep the knowledge from him until such time as light would come to show Durham how to move. "Yes," he said at length, throwing down his pen and taking up a position on the hearth-rug. "I was informed by Miss Plantagenet that Bernard had sought refuge with her, and I went down to see him."

"Why did you not tell me?" asked Julius, sharply.

Durham shrugged his shoulders. "By your own showing, seeing you wished to call in the police, you are not a friend to Bernard," he said. "Why should I have summoned you? To a.s.sist you to arrest him?"

"I do not wish him to be arrested," said Julius, mildly. "On the contrary, I wish the poor fellow to die in peace."

"To die--what do you mean?"

"What I say, Mr. Durham. Payne tells me that Bernard has been so exhausted by his wandering when in hiding, that he cannot recover. His death is only a question of days. Mind you"--Julius wagged his finger again--"I really believe he killed Sir Simon, but as he is dying, why, I shall do nothing. I am not a vindictive man. Besides," added Julius, looking sideways at the lawyer, "Bernard and I are friends now. I am also friendly with Miss Malleson."

"Indeed! And how did you bring that about?"

"By acting straightforward and honorably, as I always do," said the meek Julius. "Miss Malleson acknowledged to me that Bernard was sadly changed by the hardships he had undergone. All the same she recognized him.

Unfortunately, the poor fellow is too feeble to tell her of the perils he underwent, so she has not had an opportunity of talking much to him."

It struck Durham from this speech that Julius was doubtful of the ident.i.ty of Bernard with the man at the Bower. Else why should he make this remark about Alice not having had time to question the sick man, seeing that Alice alone could prove if he were Bernard or not? Durham was perplexed, and wondered what Julius was driving at, and how much he knew. A clue came with the next words.

"And being friends with Bernard," went on Beryl, "he is sorry that we quarrelled. Feeling that he is not long for this world he wants to make his will in my favor."

Durham nearly uttered an exclamation, for all of a sudden the whole rascally business became clear. Julius knew that the man at the Bower was Michael, and he was prepared to extract from him a forged will, in the hope that the real Bernard was dead. Having made use of Michael to bring about the accusation of Gore, he now used him to the very last to get the money. However, Durham kept his temper under, and pretended to believe that Julius was speaking in all good faith. He simply bowed his head. Every word that Julius said was weaving a rope for his own neck.

"Are you surprised then at my calling?" said Julius, anxiously.

"No," said Durham, returning to his seat. "If Gore wishes to make a will, I suppose I am the man to draw it up. I must go down and receive his instructions."

"I have them with me," said Julius, bringing out a sealed letter.

Durham, inwardly boiling at this rascality, but outwardly calm, opened the letter, while Julius kept a sharp look-out on him. He found a long letter, written in the same style as Bernard Gore usually wrote, setting forth directions for the will. These included an income of five hundred a year to Alice Malleson, and the extra allowance of four hundred to Mrs. Gilroy, making her income five hundred in all. The rest of the estate, real and personal, went to Julius Beryl. Durham smiled inwardly as he read this doc.u.ment. It was exactly the kind of will Julius wanted.

Michael was simply his instrument, and Durham shrewdly suspected that from some knowledge of the forged check Beryl had obtained this extraordinary influence.

"Well, it seems clear enough," said the lawyer, laying down the letter, "but I think Miss Malleson, seeing what she loses, should have more."

"I think she has quite enough," said Julius, tartly.

"Then Mrs. Gilroy," said Durham, pretending ignorance. "Why should Bernard leave her this extra money?"

"I can't say. Bernard will probably tell you himself. Will you please draw out the will, Mr. Durham, and bring it down to the Bower for Gore to sign?"

For the sake of appearances Durham went on making objections. All these were met by Julius with infernal cleverness, until the lawyer--on the face of it--had not a leg to stand on, as the saying goes. Finally he consented to draw up the will as instructed by the letter, and agreed to meet Julius next day at Liverpool Street Station to go down with him to the Hall. Julius drew a long breath of relief when the lawyer so agreed, and apparently had no idea that he was being tricked all the time.

"I am much obliged to you, Mr. Durham," said he, holding out his hand, "and when I come into possession of the estate you will find me a good client."

Durham, for the sake of keeping up the deception, had to shake hands, although he loathed himself for doing so. When the door closed on the arch plotter the solicitor went at once to wash his hands.

"What a complete scoundrel!" said Durham to himself. "And how confoundedly clever. Of course, if the real Bernard were dead this will might stand. At all events, even if Miss Malleson could prove that Michael is not her lover, the new will might lead to litigation.

However, as Bernard is alive and well we can produce him at the eleventh hour to frighten Beryl. I am afraid that young man will be hanged after all, though I am unwilling, for the sake of the family, that things should come to that pa.s.s."

However, Durham, true to his appointment, arrived at the station the next day and had the will in his pocket. Julius read it in the train going down and expressed his approval of it. It was now Durham's cue to behave politely to Julius, and as though he truly believed in him and in the false Bernard Gore. But on the previous night he had written a long letter to Miss Berengaria, which was to be read to Alice. In it Durham told the whole of Beryl's scheme to get possession of the property. But for obvious reasons he said nothing of Tolomeo's story or Beryl's real guilt. He thought, very truly, that even Miss Berengaria's nerves could not stand being brought into such close relationship with a proven murderer, let alone that Alice might reveal the truth out of sheer disgust. But the letter prepared the minds of both ladies for the execution of the will.

On arriving at the Bower the two men were met by Jerry, looking more innocent and child-like than ever. "Please, missus says will you go into the drawing-room?" said the infant, casting down his eyes.

Durham looked hard at the young scoundrel who was such a worthy instrument of Beryl's. He would have liked to examine him then and there touching his luring of Bernard to Crimea Square, but the present moment was not propitious, so he pa.s.sed on. Julius, however, in a most benevolent way spoke to the boy--"I hope you are giving your good mistress satisfaction?"

"Oh yes, sir. But she was angry at me writing and telling you about the poor sick gentleman."