Chapter 5

THE INQUEST

There was considerable excitement over the murder in Sand Lane, especially in theatrical and journalistic circles. The deceased was a well-known figure in Bohemia, as for years he had consorted with actors, with reporters, and with sundry idle men, who, doing nothing themselves, sought the company of those gifted with creative and mimetic powers. Walter Starth, being cursed with enough to live on, had developed into a thorough loafer, and chose Bohemia to dwell in, because its gaslight attractions were congenial to his mind. Occasionally he wrote an article or short story himself, and sometimes walked on in a melodrama as a guest; but he never did any real work, preferring idle talk and constant drinking. He was not a favourite with the Slaves of the Lamp, but his burly figure and red head were excessively familiar. Consequently there was immense curiosity manifested regarding his untimely and terrible death.

Who had killed him? That was the first question which everyone asked. But before the inquest took place it was known that Frank Lancaster was the assassin. How the rumour had started no one knew, but somehow, within twenty-four hours after the discovery of the body, Lancaster's name was on every lip. Now, Frank, moving in the same Bohemia, was as great a favourite as Starth was the reverse, and at the outset everyone declined to believe that he had slain Starth in so brutal a manner. But afterwards the open enmity between the two men was recalled, their attentions to Fairy Fan were mentioned, and an exaggerated version was given of the quarrel in the Piccadilly Theatre. When the inquest was held it was quite believed that Lancaster was the guilty man. His flight proved his guilt.

Frank, concealed under the dyed hair and brown face of Desmond O'Neil, wished Eustace to be present at the inquest, but Jarman did not think it wise to put in an appearance.

"Captain Berry will be there," said he, "and, as I stated before, I am pretty sure that for some unexplained reason he is your enemy. It is probable that he has made himself acquainted with as much of your sayings and doings as he can gather, and he doubtless knows that I am your friend. I'll keep out of it, Frank, lest Captain Berry should be induced to run down here and ask questions. If so, he might spot you in spite of your disguise. Besides, we'll see all that there is to be seen in the papers, and what isn't reported Mildred will explain when she returns."

"Is she stopping in town for the inquest?"

"Yes. Mrs. Perth has gone up also, as the poor girl is much cut up. A brother is a brother, however bad he may be."

Frank reflected for a few moments. "Eustace," said he at last, "do you remember what I told you about Starth taunting me with not knowing my father. That's true, you know."

"Yes. But afterwards he confessed that he said that only to get you dandered."

"How did he know that he would rile me in that way? Why should he hit the bull's-eye with a pot-shot? I fancied at the time that you might have told him something."

"No!" denied Jarman. "I keep my pores open and my mouth shut. It's probable that Starth learnt something about your family history from the egregious Berry."

"But how does Berry come to know anything?"

"That's one of the things we must find out, one of the elements connected with his attitude towards you."

"Do you think he knows what the Scarlet Bat means?"

"Yes. He knows more than you do, and, on the face of it, he purposely made your acquaintance to get you into trouble. Witness the way in which he brought you and Starth together, and secured Fairy Fan's aid to make bad blood between you. He wanted Starth dead and you hanged. At least, I think so; but, of course, I'm groping in the dark."

"But what's hanging to it?" asked Frank, much puzzled.

"I don't know. Money, I should say."

"So far as I know, there's no money worth all this trouble on Berry's part coming my way."

"Observe, my son," said Jarman, paternally, "so far as you know. That is the crux of the whole thing. You are as puzzled as myself over the meaning of the Scarlet Bat. As it's the only mystery about you, save the reason of Berry's enmity, I take leave to jam the two mysteries together. When they make one, we may perhaps be able to get at the truth."

"I don't see how we're to start," said Lancaster, knitting his brows.

"Nor I. Wait till the inquest is over. Then we'll have something to go upon. Berry will be a witness as to your quarrelling with the dead man. Berry will collect evidence to make the case blacker. And when Berry has done his worst, we'll know his cards. See! Then you and I will play our game with a hidden hand. And now, my son, start in with the typing. I have to get this story sent in to-morrow, and you must do something to keep up the fiction of being my secretary."

While Jarman and his friend were engaged in literary pursuits in Essex, the inquest was being held in London on the body of Walter Starth. After the jury had surveyed the corpse, and had particularly examined the bullet hole and the knife wound, either one of which was sufficient to cause death, the police inspector in charge of the case detailed facts. He had been called in by Mrs. Betts, the landlady of the deceased, and found Walter Starth dead in his sitting-room. The body was on the floor, with a wound in the heart and a bullet hole under the left eye. No knife had been found, but a pistol--to be more accurate, a Derringer revolver--was discovered in the fireless grate. There was no sign of a struggle. Everything was in its place. The man, apparently taken by surprise, must have died instantly. It was impossible to say whether he was knifed first or shot afterwards--but that was part of the doctor's evidence. A card had been found torn in two and lying on the floor. It bore the name of Frank Lancaster, and an address. On the silver plate of the Derringer were the initials "F. L.," so the inspector, presuming that Lancaster, owner of the pistol, was the assassin, had called at that address given on the card to arrest him.

At this point the coroner said that witness was assuming too much.

Inspector Herny submitted that the revolver used was the property of Lancaster, that the torn card bore his name, and that the servant Matilda Samuels stated that a man answering to the description of Lancaster had called to see the deceased. Also Lancaster and Starth had quarrelled at the Piccadilly Theatre on the night before the committal of the crime, and Lancaster had been heard to threaten the deceased. Finally, Captain Berry, whom the inspector had come into contact with at Lancaster's chambers--where he was paying a visit--stated that the two men were bitter rivals for the hand of his niece, Miss Berry, known on the stage as Fairy Fan.

"Why was not Lancaster arrested?" asked the coroner.

"He fled, sir," replied Herny. "After the committal of the crime, he did not return to his rooms. The last seen of him was when he passed Matilda Samuels a few minutes after nine o'clock."

The doctor who had examined the body deposed that either wound was sufficient to cause death. From the condition of the body he thought that the man was killed between six and eight o'clock. It was the doctor's opinion that Starth had been shot first and stabbed afterwards. He could give no absolute reason, save that if the suspected person using a knife had thus secured his end, he would hardly fire a shot into a dead body, especially into the head. "The noise would have attracted the neighbours," said the doctor, "and as the man was dead, there would be no sense in acting so foolishly. But in a vindictive spirit the assassin might certainly have mutilated the body with the knife. I am convinced that he killed Starth with the revolver."

The coroner interposed. Twice the witness had referred to the assassin as "he." How did he know that the criminal was a man?

The doctor answered that he did _not_ know, but the presumption favoured a male criminal. It was improbable that a woman would be such a straight shot (the doctor had been in South America and talked so), and, moreover, the knife had been driven so deeply into the heart that he doubted whether a woman would have strength to make such a wound. Besides, after firing the shot and securing her purpose, a woman would never have had the nerve to stop in the room for over an hour.

"There is no evidence that any woman stopped in the room for an hour."

The witness explained that he was thinking of Inspector Herny's remark of Lancaster having been seen by the servant leaving at nine. If Lancaster were guilty, he must have stopped in the room with his victim's body for over an hour. The murder took place between six and eight, and Lancaster did not leave till after nine.

"Most irregular, these remarks," said the coroner, discontentedly. "You have no right to assume so much. Which wound killed the man?"

"Either wound would cause death," said the doctor, sticking to his opinion, "but it is my belief the shot was the cause. The mutilation was an after-thought."

When this witness stepped down, Mrs. Betts the landlady was called. She knew nothing at all. On that day she had gone to a wedding--one of her cousins--and had been absent from midday till half-past nine. She returned to find Tilly (the servant) in hysterics, and her lodger dead. She then called in the police. Mrs. Betts never knew that her lodger expected anyone. He had said nothing to her. She had never given Tilly permission to go out during her absence, and had severely reprimanded her for leaving the house. It was Tilly's duty to have remained in until Mrs. Betts returned. The landlady declared that she never heard of any quarrel, that she never saw Lancaster, and that she knew of no one likely to have killed her lodger. Mr. Starth was a quiet gentleman in the house, whatever he may have been outside. He rarely had a visitor. Captain Berry was one of the few who called. Sometimes Mr. Starth would go away for a week, and always returned looking ill.

All this and much more of little account was extracted from the garrulous landlady, but she could throw no light on the darkness of the crime. She was succeeded as a witness by Tilly, whose evidence was delivered amidst floods of tears. The poor little wretch had been severely frightened when she entered the house after leaving her young man.

"I went to take Mr. Starth's lamp," she said, sobbing, "as he allays liked oil an' not gas. He was lying a deaden, so I 'owled and dropped, till missus shook me up. There wasn't anyone in the house. But that gentleman what called come out just as I wos talking to Alf. He looked white an' queer like. I spoke of the long time he'd bin, but he said nothin', and jus' cut."

"Were the two men on good terms?" asked the coroner.

"Well, sir," said Tilly, hesitating, "I can't 'ardly say for certing. I wos left in the 'ouse when missus went to the weddin', and Mr. Starth, he called me up, arskin' if I wos in the humour to see Alf, which is my young man, a bricklayer. I sed, 'Right oh!' and he tells me I could cut when a gentleman called to see him. 'There might be a row,' ses he, 'cos this gent 'ates me awful, an' I don't want you to 'ear bad language,' ses he. So I gets ready for Alf, and when the gent comes after four, and very late he wos, I shoves him into the room and cuts."

"Did you hear the greeting given by Starth to Lancaster?"

"No! I jus' shoves him in, and cuts."

"It was Lancaster who called?"

"Yuss. Mr. Starth ses as the gent he expected wos Lancaster by name, an' a fair, yeller-'aired cove. He seemed to 'ate 'im, tho' he ses as it wos Lancaster who 'ated 'im," finished Tilly, confusedly.

"Do you think Mr. Starth got you out of the house so as to quarrel freely with his visitor?"

"Yuss. He said as there would be a row."

"Could anyone have got into the lower part of the house during your absence?"

Tilly stole a look at hard-faced Mrs. Betts. "Why, bless y'no, sir. I wos perticler about lockin' an' barrin' the winders. But Mr. Starth could 'ave let anyone in. I left him with Mr. Lancaster, that's all I knows. W'en I come back after leaving Alf, I sawr 'im dead, w'en I brought the lamp. I nearly dropped with 'orror, an' after puttin' the lamp down I ran to woller on the kitchen floor with fear till missus come an' shook me up. I wos too feared to holler fur the perlice."

When Tilly was dismissed with a streaming face to the companionship of Alf, who lurked at the back of the court, Captain Berry was called. The little skipper looked harder than ever, and delivered his evidence in a dry fashion, with unwinking eyes and without saying more than was needful. His language smacked of the Great Waste Lands.

"Yes, sir, I guess I knew the corpse, and Lancaster. They fair hated one another, and there was always a shine between them when they met. My niece sent 'em fair crazy. They both wanted to marry her, but she shied when they asked her. She didn't want to run in double harness with either. Not much. I tried to make them two boys friends, but they wouldn't cotton to one another nohow. Starth _did_ liquidate considerable, and at the Piccadilly Theatre made trouble. Oh! he came right along, callin' Lancaster high-and-mighty names. I wanted to put the stopper on Starth's jaw, but Lancaster sailed in and levelled him straight. A pretty hitter is Lancaster; but I don't call it square of a man to wish another out of the world."

"Did Lancaster say that?" asked the coroner.

Berry spat and nodded. "Several times, you bet. He said he'd like to wring Starth's neck, that he'd be better out of the world than in it, and that he'd like to kick him out of the world. Oh, there was an holy show. I took Starth home, but he never let on that he was goin' to make it up with Lancaster next day. They made no appointment as I heard on. Oh! I guess Lancaster had a row with Starth in his own shanty, and let out at him with the Derringer. A clean shot, sir." Berry spat again. "The knife? Don't know anythin' of th' knife. But I heard as Lancaster was in 'Frisco once, so he might have imported a bowie. Yes, sir, that wound was made by a bowie."

Berry said much more to the same effect, and appeared to be quite sure that Lancaster was guilty. He was followed by Baird, who had been imported into the case by the skipper on a word to Inspector Herny. Baird admitted reluctantly that Lancaster had threatened to kick Starth out of the world, and that the two men were on the worst of terms.

Afterwards followed the cause of the trouble. Fairy Fan, exquisitely dressed, and quite overcome with emotion, deposed that the two men both asked her to marry them. She refused both, as she wished to stay with her dear uncle. Starth and Lancaster hated one another, but she never thought it would come to this. Starth usually started the quarrel, but it was always Lancaster who threatened. He frequently expressed a wish that Starth was dead. Lancaster told her that when slumming for his newspaper he sometimes carried a revolver. The weapon produced in court was his. She had seen it once. It had belonged to his father, Lancaster said. The elder Lancaster's name was Frank also, hence the initials on the silver plate. The death of Starth and the wickedness of Lancaster had inflicted two several shocks on her, so that she had been out of the bill at the Piccadilly Theatre. She never thought Lancaster was so bloodthirsty. He always seemed to be such a quiet young man. Starth's language was certainly most insulting.

Mildred Starth was then called. She deposed that she was a sister of the deceased. She lived in Essex, and saw very little of her brother. They got on pretty well, but she was fond of a quiet life, and her brother was never happy unless he was leading a fast one. On the night previous to the murder she was in town. Her brother was in the box at the Piccadilly Theatre; that was the last she saw of him. He seemed excited and a little overcome with drink. She had heard him express hatred of Lancaster, but he was careful in her presence not to explain the reason. She had never heard him threaten Lancaster, but twice she had heard him express fears lest Lancaster should kill him. He described Lancaster as a ruffian from San Francisco. Witness had never seen the accused man.

This formed the gist of evidence collected by the police, and it was quite enough to permit the coroner making a speech strongly condemning Lancaster. He said that no doubt Lancaster had intimated his intention of calling on Starth, as there was no reason to believe that Starth, who was manifestly afraid of his opponent, had invited him to come. Lancaster had undoubtedly brought the revolver with him, and it would seem that he had called on deceased with the intention of committing the murder. Perhaps Starth--as seemed probable--had torn Lancaster's card in two (the pieces having been found), and the insult had fired Lancaster's rage. Hence the murder. It seems that no one heard the shot; at all events no one could be found who could give such evidence. The jury must therefore take the doctor's opinion that Starth had been shot between six and eight. It was impossible to say why Lancaster had remained behind with his victim's body until nine. But he apparently did, as he was seen leaving the house by the servant, Matilda Samuels. The jury had inspected the body, they had heard the evidence and the cause of death, and on the facts before them would give their verdict.

This was easily given. Without the least hesitation the jury brought in a verdict of wilful murder against Frank Lancaster. After that the crowd went out, and the neighbourhood buzzed with excitement. The one question asked was whether the police knew the whereabouts of the guilty man.

The police did not, and to a reporter Inspector Herny confessed that he had absolutely no clue. Lancaster had vanished like a water bubble.