yourself.”
Baggs was openly weeping now. “What… what do you want?”
Murray leaned close. “The truth!” he thundered. “ ’Oo killed Alfred Day?” He put the spectacles on the floor and raised one foot as if to crush them.
Faced with this terrifying loss, Baggs broke down completely.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Search then the Ruling Passion: there, alone, The wild are constant and the cunning known; The fool consistent, and the false sincere… This clue once found, unravels all the rest.
Alexander Pope
Call me a spider-catcher.
Love-Tricks James Shirley
Kate put Amelia on the afternoon train back to Bishop’s Keep; then, carrying one small portmanteau with her, took a hansom to Hardaway House, stopping along the way to buy a few things for tea. She lit the fire, put on the gas kettle, and had just sat down on the sofa to write in her journal when Charles entered the room, accompanied by a small man in a checked tweed suit, green bow tie, and bowler hat, smelling strongly of cigars.
“Kate!” Charles exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you, my very dear,” Kate replied quietly. She lifted her face for his welcoming kiss, glad to be out of the emotional storms which seemed to whirl around Lillie, glad to be back in the calm haven of her husband’s presence.
“But why aren’t you at Regal Lodge?” Charles asked. “I assumed that you would be staying another day, at the least.” From his expression, Kate could see that he was both excited and troubled. He turned toward the other man. “Kate, this is Mr. Jack Murray, the Jockey Club’s investigator and formerly of Scotland Yard. Mr. Murray, Lady Sheridan, my wife.”
“Delighted, ma’am,” Murray said, snatching off his hat.
“I am glad to meet you, Mr. Murray,” Kate said. “Charles has spoken highly of your abilities and experience.” She turned to Charles. “I left Regal Lodge,” she said in answer to his question, “because I couldn’t bear to stay. I fear that a little of Mrs. Langtry goes a very long way, at least for me.” She glanced up. “Please pardon me if that seems a rude thing to say, Mr. Murray.”
“I’m afraid I know just what you mean, my lady,” Jack Murray said ruefully.
“Jack was one of the Scotland Yard men on the Langtry jewel theft case,” Charles explained. “He had dealings with Mrs. Langtry then.”
“More than I cared to, ma’am,” Murray put in fervently, “begging your pardon.”
“I understand,” Kate said with a sympathetic smile. She could imagine the scene: Lillie a study in astonished horror and dismay; Lillie complaining melodramatically about the inability of the Yard to catch the criminals; Lillie indignant and betrayed when the police failed to return her jewels. And if she had been complicit in the theft, the whole thing would have been nothing more or less than a grand performance: Mrs. Lillie Langtry starring in the role of the beautiful and helpless victim of an appalling robbery.
The kettle was steaming. Kate got up, poured hot water into the tea pot, and set out three china cups she had found in the sideboard. As she assembled a tray of cheeses and purchased biscuits, she said, “I met Spider this afternoon.”
“You
“Yes,” Kate said. “He gave Lillie a horse.” She smiled as she added, over her shoulder, “A horse named Tarantula, of course. Exactly as one might expect from a Spider.”
“Tarantula?” Murray frowned. “That’s Lord Hunt’s horse. The one he lost on so heavily last year.”
“Lord Hunt?” Kate looked around sharply. “Is that Spider’s real name?”
“You didn’t get the man’s name, then?” Charles asked.
Kate shook her head. “I asked, but both he and Lillie avoided answering, and I didn’t like to press, for fear of seeming overly curious. The man had ridden a horse, so there was no driver I might ask.” She put the tray on the small table in front of the sofa. “Will you be so kind as to pour the tea, Charles?” she added, going for her purse. “I have something to show you.”
While Charles poured, Kate opened her purse and took out the derringer and the brandy snifter, each wrapped in a handkerchief. She put them on the table next to the tray and opened the handkerchiefs.
“By thunder!” Mr. Murray exclaimed, letting out his breath. “Is this-”
“The missing derringer,” Charles said, with satisfaction. “Kate, my sweet, you are a treasure of treasures. Where in the world did you happen on it?”
“In the drawer in the drawing room,” Kate said, sitting beside Charles on the sofa. “Spider was alone in the room when I came in. It occurred to me that if he were indeed the man who took the gun, he might have taken the opportunity to return it. After he and Lillie went out to the stable, I looked in the drawer-and there it was.”
Charles slipped his arm around her waist and hugged her. “Wonderful, Kate!”
“Excuse me, ma’am,” Mr. Murray said, “but what about the brandy snifter?”
“The man called Spider was drinking from that glass,” Kate said. “I thought you might like to see if his fingerprints are on it, Charles. To be compared to any you might be able to find on the gun,” she added. “I was wearing gloves when I picked up both objects.”
“Fingerprints?” Murray asked, surprised. He raised both eyebrows. “You’re speaking of that dactyloscopy business that Edward Henry is pushing at the Yard?”
“Oh, you know about that, then, do you, Jack?” Charles asked, pleased.
Murray nodded. “A friend of mine, Sergeant Randal, has been taking fingerprints at Sir Francis Galton’s South Kensington laboratory for some years, and he keeps me posted on the progress. According to Sergeant Randal, Henry has been using dactyloscopy in India with a great deal of success. He thinks there’s a chance that the Anthropometry Bureau might be compelled to at least give the method a trial.” His face became gloomy. “Although I personally doubt that will happen. The Home Secretary is convinced that anthropometry provides the best means of identification. Barking up the wrong tree, if you ask me,” he added. “Measuring noses and ears isn’t precise enough. Too much chance for error. And the record-keeping is preposterous.”
“Fingerprint records aren’t much of an improvement,” Charles remarked. “And even if the Yard takes up fingerprinting, the courts will still have to accept it as evidence. And that is some distance in the future.”
Kate frowned. “It’s all well and good to have the fingerprints on the gun-they might be of some help. But isn’t the first task to match the gun to the crime? How is that to be done without-”
“Without the fatal bullet?” Charles reached into his pocket and took out a bullet, putting it on the table. “Here it is, Kate. Taken yesterday from Badger’s body by Dr. Stubbings. We’ll fire a test round and see whether we can determine any similarities.”
Murray was even more gloomy. “The experts at the Yard don’t think ballistics evidence counts for much, either. And no court in England has ever been presented with a case involving such a thing. However, it won’t hurt to give it a try. There’s a first time for everything.” He put down his teacup and stood. “I don’t imagine any of us has a.41 caliber bullet handy for a test-firing, so I’ll just pop around to the gun shop before it closes.” He
