The Mystery of Lincoln's Inn Read online

  CHAPTER XIII

  "Morris Thornton!"

  Both the porter and the locksmith had heard the name distinctly beforeEversleigh swooned away, and both understood who the dead man was. Theywere so astounded that they stood looking at each other with startledfaces and mouths agape, while Gilbert bent over the unconscious form ofhis father.

  "Morris Thornton at last!" cried the porter; "it's the gentleman as wasmissing."

  "Morris Thornton--yes," said the locksmith; "the missingmillionaire--the man wot was advertised for in all the papers."

  And then both men were silent, thinking of the reward of a thousandpounds offered for information about this very man.

  "I was the first as found him," remarked the locksmith, coming to hiswits, to the porter.

  "We all found him together, didn't we?" asked the porter, in anaggrieved tone.

  Gilbert, meanwhile, had moved his father from off the dead body ofMorris Thornton on to the floor, and sought to bring him to byunfastening his collar and tie and opening his shirt. The son felt thathis first concern was with his father, not with Morris Thornton--withthe living rather than the dead. And now, as he tried to bring back tothe inanimate frame the spark of life, he noticed, as he had not donebefore, how changed, how shrunken were the face and figure of hisfather. He knew his father had been ailing for some time, but he had notrealised how far the mischief had gone. And on the top of this illnesshad come, first the death of Silwood, and now the discovery of MorrisThornton lying dead in Silwood's chambers! Small wonder was it, hethought, that the shock of this last circumstance, combined with allthat had preceded it, had proved too much for his father.

  For some minutes he continued his efforts to re-animate FrancisEversleigh, but without avail. The porter and the locksmith gave himwhat assistance they could; finally the former suggested that a doctorshould be sent for.

  "Yes," agreed Gilbert; "go round to King's College Hospital. I know oneor two of the doctors there; take my card, and get one of them if youcan. Say the case is urgent."

  But the porter, who by this time was swelling with the importance of theaffair--an importance in which he saw himself included--had anothersuggestion to make.

  "After I get a doctor," he said to Gilbert, whom he knew to be FrancisEversleigh's son, "don't you think it would be well if I fetched apoliceman? There's the dead body," he added significantly, "and ofcourse there will have to be an inquest."

  "Quite right," replied Gilbert; "but get the doctor first."

  And the porter withdrew, more important than ever.

  "Shall I stay, sir?" asked the locksmith.

  "Yes, please, until the police come; they will want your evidence."

  "Very well, sir."

  While he was trying to resuscitate his father, Gilbert's mind had beenin a whirl; now that he had desisted from the attempt his thoughtsshaped themselves more clearly. Here, before him, lay Kitty's fatherdead--Kitty's father, that was his first thought--and his heart bled forher. He knew that, though she had said and felt that Morris Thornton wasno more, she would still suffer terribly on hearing positively that hewas dead.

  Then the strangeness of the thing--the body being found in Silwood'sroom, and Silwood his own father's partner!--took hold of him. Silwooddead! Morris Thornton dead! What did this conjunction indicate? Thatthere was something extraordinary about it did not admit of any doubtwhatever when it was coupled with the fact that Thornton's body had beenfound in Silwood's chambers. How had Morris Thornton come to be there atall? And in what way had he met his death? What connection was therebetween that death and Cooper Silwood? What had Silwood to do with it?Had he anything to do with it? For what reason? With what end in view?Had Thornton been murdered? If so, it could not have been by Silwood,for what motive could he have had for killing Thornton?--Silwood, amember of one of the most respectable firms in London. And yet theremust be some connection and some explanation. What was it? What could itbe?

  As these questionings flashed through Gilbert's mind, he stood gazingupon the dead man's face, as if from its sightless eyes and from itsdumb lips there might come some solution of the mystery.

  And then his thoughts took a fresh turn. Still gazing at the face ofMorris Thornton, he wondered if the man had come to his death by beingshot, if upon the body would be found the marks of the lethal weaponthat had slain him, if the murderer had left behind him some sign whichin the end would lead to his detection and conviction. But this was topresume Thornton had been murdered, and there was no certainty as tothat.

  While he was thus musing, his father showed some indications ofreviving. His eyelids fluttered and his lips worked slightly. Gilbertbent down and raised his father's head. With a deep sigh, FrancisEversleigh opened his eyes and stared at his son as at some stranger.But reviving still more, a light of recognition came into his face, andhe moved his head.

  "Are you better, father?" asked Gilbert.

  Eversleigh made an effort to speak, but it failed; then he lookedpiteously at his son.

  "I wish I had some brandy to give you," said Gilbert. "A doctor will behere in a few minutes."

  At the mention of the word "doctor," Francis Eversleigh struggled toraise himself, and, with Gilbert's help, managed to get into a sittingposition. Glancing about him in a weak and uncertain way, his eyes fellupon the body of Thornton; a frightful spasm seemed to shake him topieces; then his eyes all at once blazed with light and life, but in aninstant they became clouded and overcast.

  "Morris Thornton--I remember," he said, speaking with great slowness,as though speech were exceedingly difficult to him.

  He shut his eyes, as if he would shut out the sight of the dead man,while Gilbert watched him anxiously and supported him with his strongyoung arms.

  Presently he opened his eyes again, looked at the body, and then atGilbert. On his face was a great solemn interrogation which his soncould scarcely fail to understand. Eversleigh was asking what did it allportend, but Gilbert did not speak; he himself could see no way out ofthe darkness surrounding the scene.

  "What has happened?" asked the older man, but even as he spoke Gilbertfelt his father's form was beginning to press more heavily on him.

  "I do not know," the son replied.

  Francis Eversleigh now fixed his gaze on Thornton's body once more.

  "Murder!" he suddenly cried in a piercing voice, and dropped backunconscious again.

  "Murder!"

  Gilbert told himself that he could follow the mind of his fatherperfectly. His father thought Morris Thornton had been murdered. It wasto all intents what was in his own mind.

  But if Thornton had been murdered, who, then, was the murderer?

  The piercing cry of "Murder!" which Francis Eversleigh had raised beforeswooning again had not been heard by Gilbert only. The locksmith, whowas still in the room, heard it for one, and it filled him with freshexcitement. He had been endeavouring to puzzle out the thing in his ownway, and was not exactly surprised to find the idea of murder importedinto it. That cry of "Murder!" was the echo of his own thoughts, andfrom that moment he was so convinced that Thornton had been murderedthat nothing would disabuse him of the notion.

  The cry was heard by three others, who were only a few steps away fromthe door of Silwood's chambers when Francis Eversleigh gave utterance toit. They were the doctor from King's College Hospital, a policeman fromLincoln's Inn Fields, and the Inn porter, all arriving together. Onhearing it, they ran forward into the room.

  The porter had already told both the doctor and the policeman his ownversion of the finding of the body of Thornton and of the fainting fitof Mr. Eversleigh.

  "What was that cry I heard?" demanded the policeman, who was the firstto speak.

  As he spoke he threw searching glances about and around the room. ButGilbert paid no heed to his question. He knew the doctor, thanked himfor coming so promptly, and asked him to try to revive his father.

  "It is the second time he has fainted," said Gilbert.

  It was the lo
cksmith that answered the policeman's query.

  "The sick gentleman," said he, "him that's in the swound, called outloud 'Murder!'--he'd been looking at the body--and then he dropped offagain. That was the second time he swounded."

  "Oh, it was he," said the policeman. Then he advanced to Gilbert, havingbeen prompted thereto by the porter, who whispered to him, "He's youngMr. Eversleigh," and said, "Will you tell me from the beginning thewhole story, sir?"

  By this time his father was in the capable hands of the doctor, so thatGilbert was able to give his whole attention to the policeman. Assuccinctly as possible, he narrated the circumstances which had led tohis father and himself going to Silwood's chambers, how the door wasbroken open, and the body of Thornton found lying on the floor. Next thepoliceman listened to what the porter and the locksmith had seen, and bythe time he had heard what they had to tell him, Francis Eversleigh hadcome to himself, though he looked shattered and frightfully ill. Him,too, the policeman questioned.

  "Mr. Thornton was a client of yours, I believe?" remarked the policeman,after many other queries.

  "Yes, an old schoolfellow, and one of my greatest friends," repliedEversleigh. "His daughter is engaged to marry my son Gilbert, here."

  "This gentleman?" asked the policeman, pointing to Gilbert.

  "Yes."

  "And these are the private apartments of your partner, Mr. CooperSilwood?"

  "Yes."

  "And the dead body of Mr. Thornton, your friend, is found in the privateapartments of your partner, Mr. Silwood?"

  "Yes."

  "And Mr. Silwood is dead?"

  "Yes."

  "Most extraordinary thing I ever heard of!" exclaimed the policeman."There's something very strange here."

  "My father, as you can see for yourself," interposed Gilbert, "is ill;he is in no fit state to stay here a moment longer than is necessary.But if I can help you, I shall be glad to do so."

  "Mr. Eversleigh ought to go home at once," said the doctor.

  "That is all right," said the policeman.

  "Do you report to Inspector Gale?" asked Gilbert of the policeman; "Iknow him very well."

  "Yes; I shall report to him. And in the mean time these chambers must beclosed up and sealed. The inspector will no doubt come and examineeverything in them. This is the usual procedure. And of course therewill be a coroner's inquest. Nothing more can be done at present, Ithink. Please sir, do not touch the body," he added, speaking to thedoctor, who was scrutinizing it carefully.

  "If I went to Scotland Yard, should I find the inspector in?" askedGilbert.

  "You'll find him there at 2.30."

  "And there is nothing more that can be done just now?"

  "Nothing."

  Leaving Silwood's chambers in the charge of the policeman, who had nowbeen reinforced by the arrival of two other constables, the twoEversleighs, the doctor, the locksmith, and the porter filed out of thechamber of mystery and death. As they entered the court of StoneBuildings, they saw that little knots of people had collected, who werediscussing something that evidently was unusually interesting. The factwas that the porter, on his way for the doctor and the policeman, hadlet fall hints of what had been found. The Eversleighs were asked bysome gentlemen of the long robe, whom they knew, what was the truth ofthe matter, and they put before them the bare facts. But the porter andthe locksmith were not so reticent. The former gossiped freely, but notwithout a fitting sense of the greatness of the occasion. The latterwent into Chancery Lane by the iron-gated footway leading from the courtof Stone Buildings and saw a crowd gathered on the pavement opposite thewindows of Cooper Silwood's chambers. Already it had been spread abroadthat these chambers had been the scene of some astounding tragedy. Thelocksmith, on being asked by some one in the crowd if he could throw anylight on the subject, forthwith poured forth all he knew, declaring thatundoubtedly Morris Thornton, whose dead body had been discovered inSilwood's room, had been foully murdered. And when the rumour ran thatit was the body of the Missing Millionaire, of whom everybody had heard,the excitement rose to fever heat in the crowd.

  A passing reporter, on the staff of one of the evening papers, saw thecrowd, and was soon in possession of the pith of the news, but desirousof getting the fullest particulars, he sought out the locksmith, whotold him the whole story, again reiterating his conviction that therehad been a murder of the blackest kind.

  Thus it was the locksmith's idea of what had happened that coloured thetone of the papers that evening, all of whom made the most of "THEMYSTERY OF LINCOLN'S INN" and "THE MURDER OF THE MISSING MILLIONAIRE,"as they entitled it on their bills in the largest of capitals.

  And the affair quickly created an extraordinary sensation.