CHAPTER XIV THE CONFESSION OF BESS

Bess Endicotte stared at Herrick where he stood with a black look on his face, and the clumsy weapon in his hand. "And I'll see Bridge about it," he was saying, "the bullet's still at the police office. If it fits this----" he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"What?" cried Bess finding her tongue, and asking the question with a shiver. "Is that the pistol with which----" here her voice died away in her throat. "It can't be," she whispered.

Herrick looked at her in his turn, and slipped the pistol into his pocket. "I know what you are thinking about," he said quietly, "but the pistol will do you no harm. I have seen it before. You are all right Bess."

"All right!" she echoed and drawing her brows together. "What do you mean?"

"Why, what should I mean, but that Joyce slipped this devilish piece of evidence into the table drawer, just to accuse you of----"

She bounded to her feet, grasping the idea for the first time. "He did that, did he?" she cried her head flung back, her eyes angry. "Oh!" she stamped, "what should be done to such a man! And you can sit quietly there Dr. Jim."

"Because I want to hear your story. After this, you must tell me all you know; all you have heard. As for Joyce," his mouth twisted, "leave him to me. He will not get off easily I promise you."

"To put the pistol there, that I----" she broke off again, and looked at him in a scared manner. "Did _he_ kill Carr?" she asked.

"That I can't say--yet. To kill the man he must have had some strong motive. I have yet to learn the motive strong or weak that would make Joyce risk his neck. He is careful of his neck too," explained Dr. Jim. "I have a mind to break it."

"And why?" asked Bess round-eyed. She had never seen the good-tempered doctor in such a rage.

"I wonder you can't guess," remarked Herrick cooling down. With a gasp Bess drew back. Their eyes met. A sudden crimson flushed her face, and she turned it away. "Yes," said Herrick taking her hand, "and I only knew it myself a moment ago."

"What are you talking about?" cried the girl snatching her hand away.

"I am talking of you and myself. Ida said that it would come all of a sudden, and she was right, here it is, and I have been looking in the wrong place for it these many months."

Bess knew perfectly well what he meant, but she made a show of not understanding. "I think we are talking nonsense," she said. "There is much to be done, if what you say about the pistol is true."

"Yes," said Herrick again, "as you say there is much to be done. The other thing can stand over for a time. You know well enough; but it suits you to hold me at arm's length. Woman's way I suppose. Well," he brisked up and his voice took a sharper tone, "let us get to business. This rascal tried to inculpate you in the crime. He shall have the finest thrashing he ever had. The pistol I can explain away. I have seen it in his house, and I can guess that he slipped it into that drawer so as to make his case against you the stronger. He thought if he accused you and could back his accusation with evidence that you would never dare to refuse him--the mean hound!"

"Indeed it would never have come to that," said the girl proudly. "I am not the woman to be won by threats. He did accuse me of the murder, and I defied him to do his worst. I suppose if you had not come, he would have shown me the pistol next. The mean scoundrel!" she clenched her fist, "beat him well Dr. Jim."

"What a blood-thirsty person it is," laughed Jim, "but upon my word you know, this is the strangest of wooings."

"Never mind that," said Bess drawing back, "we can talk later of such things. But my position is anything but a pleasant one. That little man will make trouble."

"If he does not, his Mexican friend will. They are a proper pair of scamps. However I am equal to both of them. Leave Joyce to me. I know all about him; but about yourself, nothing. Joyce--I take it--accuses you of being near 'The Pines' on the night of the murder."

"And at the hour," said Bess quickly. "This is what I have been trying to make up my mind to tell you all the week. The necessity of doing so has come earlier than I expected, but I shall explain myself now." She came to a stop and looked at him questioningly. "Of course you know I had nothing to do with the crime itself?"

"I am sure of that," said Herrick heartily. "But I think you know who did it. Come now, confess!"

"You are mistaken," cried Bess. "All I know is that Frisco is innocent."

"Have you proof of this?"

"The proof of my own eyes; I saw him at the door of the house when the shots were being fired."

"You heard the shots?"

"Three of them. The fourth I did not hear."

"Humph! About what hour was this?"

"Between nine and ten."

"And what were you doing out at that hour?"

Bess paused. "I had better tell you all from the beginning," she said slowly, "then you can judge for yourself. I have told no one as yet. It was too terrible, and--" she hesitated, "I had other reasons for silence. Yet if Frisco had been tried for his life, I should have come forward in spite of all. He is perfectly innocent. I can prove it."

"Strange," muttered Herrick taking a seat. "Well, let us hear."

"What about that horrid Joyce?"

"I'll attend to him later. He will stay at the inn until I come. That is, if he is really innocent. Of course if he tries to bolt, I shall know he is guilty, and have him arrested. Oh, Joyce knows me, and will act accordingly. Never mind him. Go on with your story."

"It is not much of a story," said Bess. "You know the habit that Sidney has of going to the Pine Wood?"

"To see the fairies? Yes, he told me all about that."

"Well, on the night of the murder, he went away as usual. It came on to rain and Ida was in a great state. She thought he would catch his death of cold--he is so delicate you know. I said I would go and look for him, and about nine o'clock I set out. I knew he would be in the Pine woods. It was raining and I wrapped a long cloak about me. He was not in the wood, although I searched everywhere with a lantern. Then I came out of the wood by mistake right on to the Colonel's lawn. The light was burning in the tower, and the whole of the house was illuminated."

"Just as I saw it," muttered Herrick. "Yes?"

"I crossed the lawn to come home, when I heard three shots fired one after the other in the tower. I heard them plainly. I turned with a start; but the Colonel had done so many queer things that I thought he was only shooting to amuse himself."

"It never struck you that it was murder?"

"No! If the Colonel had not been so eccentric I might have suspected, but nothing ever surprised me in that house. I waited for a moment. There were no more shots. I looked towards the house and there I saw Frisco standing in the doorway. I saw him quite plainly."

"That was some time after hearing the shots?"

"Indeed no. It was immediately after the first shot. When the other two were fired I saw him there. I thought that he might see me, and as I did not want Colonel Carr to think I had been spying round his house at so late an hour, I ran home as fast as I could. Sidney had arrived before me. I said nothing about the shots, and went to bed. When I heard how you had discovered the body, I knew that I had heard the shots fired by the murderer. But I knew also that when Frisco was missing he was not guilty. So that was why I defended him. I could not speak plainer could I?"

"Well, I see no reason why you should not have told the story you tell me now."

"If Frisco had been arrested I should have. But you know," here Bess looked down, "can you not understand Dr. Jim? The people round about here are sad scandalmongers. Because I called on Colonel Carr to get an article as I told you, people said that I was fast."

"The brutes!" cried Herrick firing up. "Well then, you can understand that if it had become known that I was near Colonel Carr's house so late at night, there would have been more talk. I really don't know what they would have said. So I said nothing not even to Ida. Of course I could have told them that I went out to get Sidney--but--" Bess shrugged her shoulders, "you know how spiteful people are. No! After consideration I thought it best to hold my tongue."

"But you might have told me," said Herrick.

"I was afraid to," faltered Bess.

"You foolish child, as though I should not have understood!"

"Well," she said with a sigh of relief, "I am glad I have told you now."

"So am I, as it has brought Joyce to the rope's end. How did he say he saw you on that night?"

"He was in the Pine Wood; on the verge of the lawn."

"And for what reason?"

"He did not tell me; nor did I ask him. You see," said Bess, "I was so angry that he should accuse me of shooting the Colonel, that I gave him no time to explain. Then you came, and--you know the rest."

"Humph! Well, Joyce shall explain to me his reasons for coming to Saxham. Of course I knew that he was here on that night."

"You knew?" said Miss Endicotte much astonished. "_How_ could you know."

"The information came to me by accident more or less," replied Herrick and forthwith he explained, how Stephen's remark as to Robin's income had led him to examine into the doings of the little man on that night. "And," continued the doctor, "I went to Heathcroft station. There I learned that a little man muffled up in a great coat (he had the excuse of the rain, but it really was a disguise) had arrived at Heathcroft by the seven o'clock train from London."

"But Heathcroft is six miles from this place."

"So Joyce knew. Therefore he was thoughtful enough to bring his bicycle with him. Oh, he came here right enough--to see the Colonel I suppose."

"To murder him?"

"I really can't be sure of that Bess. You see Carr, for some reason we do not know, allowed Mrs. Joyce an income of five hundred a year. Robin wanted this to be continued to him. The solicitors told him that Carr refused it. Therefore I can only think that he came down to try and persuade Carr to be more generous. But," added Herrick with emphasis, "I hardly think that for such a reason Joyce would commit a murder. He hasn't the pluck."

"That may be," replied Bess thoughtfully, "but it seems to me that if he did not, he took a great deal of unnecessary trouble to conceal his movements from you. Besides which, he led you directly to the house, where he knew--at all events I think so--that the body would be found."

"It is certainly strange, and looks as though his movements had been premeditated. It was Joyce who selected the country for the walking tour. Yet so far as I know he was never in these parts before. And I am bound to say that it was I who led the way to 'The Pines' on that night."

"I daresay. He was too clever to take the initiative. But he no doubt made suggestions."

"Yes, he did that. Well, I must get the truth out of the man himself. He must account to me for the possession of that pistol, and for his being in the Pine wood on the night of the murder. I wonder he gave himself away like he did."

Bess curled her lip. "He did not intend it," she said, "he thought that if he frightened me I would consent to marry him to save my own skin and then hold my tongue about his presence at Saxham. Oh! all his calculations were carefully made, you may be sure Dr. Jim. It was only because he mistook my character that they were upset."

Herrick nodded. "There is Don Manuel of course," he said.

"The Mexican! What about him?"

"Well, I wonder if he has anything to do with this. It is strange that he should be so friendly with Joyce, or with Corn too for the matter of that. Joyce said that a mutual friend of his and mine introduced him to Santiago. I took the trouble to write to that friend--a man called Johnstone, and I learned that Johnstone had never seen or heard of Don Manuel, nor had the Mexican ever been to the Apollo Club where, according to Robin the introduction took place. Where they met, and why they met, I have yet to find out. Luckily I have now enough evidence to force my dear friend Joyce to be candid. And I shall not spare him," said Herrick with a grim smile. "He is a liar and a scoundrel. I never was so mistaken in a man before. I prided myself upon reading character. It seems that I am not so clever as I thought."

"No doubt there is something between them, since they are so intimate," was the reply of Miss Endicotte, "but whether it has to do with the murder I do not know. Did Se?or Santiago know Colonel Carr?"

"In South America, and hated him like poison. It seems they both went on a treasure-hunting expedition in Peru."

"Treasure-hunting! Peru. Ah I remember, that was the expedition Frisco used to talk about."

"Was Frisco with the Colonel there?"

"Yes. He let drop hints that he and the Colonel had found treasure in Peru, and that they had lost themselves. Of course I do not know the whole story. But from what Frisco said I know it was in that way Colonel Carr obtained his wealth."

"What a liar that Manuel is!" said Herrick. "He denied that he had ever seen Frisco, According to Manuel only he and Carr were on the expedition. Santiago fell ill, and Carr left him amongst the Indians. He was held in captivity for two years, and when he got back to civilisation Carr had vanished with the treasure. He--I am speaking of the Mexican--arrived in England six months ago--in search of Colonel Carr no doubt."

"I wonder if he killed him?"

"He might have, and yet I do not know. Revenge is a poor thing when no substantial benefit is to be derived. Santiago wants wealth. He would have managed the affair in a different way."

"But remember the warnings!"

"Three of them. Yes! That is the kind of way Santiago would go to work. Try and frighten Carr into parting with a substantial amount. But I do not think that he would kill the goose with the golden eggs--at all events until he was in possession of some of the eggs. No, I can't think the Mexican is guilty."

"Then Joyce must have done it."

"Perhaps. But he is such a coward."

"If not either of those two, who is it?" asked Bess. "Not Frisco?"

Herrick looked at her, "I am not so sure," he said coolly, "you see the alibi you provide for Frisco does not touch the subject. You saw the man at the door when three shots were fired. Well, if you remember at the inquest it was proved--as much as it could be proved--that those three shots were fired at a dead body. Therefore when you heard them the man was already dead. Why should Frisco not have done it and then come down leaving his accomplice to do what he liked."

"I see what you mean," said Bess, "it was the bullet that killed the Colonel--the old fashioned bullet--"

"Fired from this if I am not mistaken," went on Herrick producing the pistol.

"You can't be sure of that. And admitting that it is so, how did the pistol come into possession of Joyce, if Frisco used it?"

"I am in the dark there," said Herrick vexedly. "I must get the truth out of Joyce. Time to see him now," and he glanced at his watch. "As to the pistol I'll see Bridge and find out if the bullet fits."

Bess held out her hand. "Let me do that," she said, "while you are watching Joyce and the Mexican I can attend to that matter."

"Do you think you will be able?" hesitated Herrick.

"I am certain I can. Besides I want to have some part in the discovery of the truth."

The doctor handed her the pistol. He knew that she was a clever girl, and would not undertake a thing unless she could execute it thoroughly. "You and I can do the detective business together," he said. "I will look after Joyce and Santiago and Frisco if I can find him; your part will be to trace the pistol and to see if the bullet fits. You can manage Bridge?"

"Easily," replied Bess, putting the pistol away, "he is so conceited that a little flattery goes a long way with him."

"Don't let him meddle in this matter. He will only spoil it. I know what to do. Leave it to me."

Dr. Jim took up his hat to go. Suddenly he recollected a point he had not yet discussed and sat down again. "About Pentland Corn," said he, "what do you think of him Bess?"

"He is a good man," she replied promptly, "but he is weak. I am sure there is nothing wrong about him."

"Yet why should he make such a friend of Santiago?"

"I do not know. Shall I ask him?"

"He would not tell you the truth if you did. He has his own secrets."

Bess nodded. "But I do not believe they are bad secrets," she said, "the rector is a man with a past--a sad past. Did you know he was a soldier before he became a parson?"

"No," replied Dr. Jim, "and yet I always thought he had a martial air about him. Why did he leave the army?"

"He said he had a call. No!" added Bess hastily seeing the doctor's lip curl, "I do not think he is a hypocrite. He is most devout."

"Humph! I do not believe much in that emotional religion," said Jim with a shake of his head, "a call had he, and left the army for that? I should like to hear a more feasible story. He was a friend of Colonel Carr's?"

"Yes, he was the only person the Colonel saw, and he used to go very often to 'The Pines.' But I do not think he did Colonel Carr much good."

"On the contrary it is probable that the Colonel did a weak man like that a good deal of harm," Herrick stopped; then said suddenly. "He knows something about this murder?"

"What makes you think so?" said Bess startled.

"Well! He did not come to the inquest, and seeing that he was the parson of the parish and a great friend of the dead man I think that strange myself. Also when I met him in the morning after the murder he talked nonsense, sheer nonsense, and was in a sort of hysterical condition."

"That might have been because of the shock," replied Bess thoughtfully, "I know one thing at least about Mr. Corn. He will not look upon a corpse."

"Why not?"

"I don't know, nor does anyone else. The parishioners are sometimes annoyed because he will not come and see their dead. Mr. Corn will pray with a dying person but he will not look on a dead one."

"Humph! And he was a soldier!" said Herrick. "I must look into this."

"You have quite enough to do at present I think. I will see to the pistol, and you can go now to Joyce."

"Then we can meet and compare notes. And Bess, we understand one another?"

Miss Endicotte flushed. "I wish you would not talk nonsense," she cried, "there are other and more important things to think of."

Dr. Jim would have protested, but she re-entered the house, and left him to his own thoughts. These were pleasant in spite of the discovery of Robin's iniquities. Jim now saw that he had been in love with Bess without knowing it. The shock of Joyce's wooing had brought about the discovery. "And what a fool I have been not to see it before!" said Dr. Jim. "No wonder they say Love is blind," and he whistled light-heartedly.