you'll hear plenty of stories about him,--none of them creditable. But to put all you need know at present into a nut-shell, I can only say that the wicked Colonel returned here from foreign parts ten years ago. He built that tower, and shut himself up to live the life of a recluse. He brought Frisco with him, and the two inhabited that house all alone. No one thought of going near it."
"Ah! That is why the crime was not discovered earlier."
"Certainly Doctor. The milkman, the baker, and the butcher, were always instructed to leave their goods in a porch at the side of the house. In that porch," added Bridge, "we have found two days provisions. To-day is Friday, last night when you discovered the body was Thursday, and the provisions for that day and Wednesday were untouched."
"H'm! So Carr was alive on Tuesday!"
"I believe doctor, that he was murdered on Tuesday night. According to Napper, Frisco, was drinking here on that evening, and spoke ill of his master. Carr must have been alive then. If Frisco killed him, he would leave Saxham on Tuesday night, therefore the provisions for Wednesday and Thursday would not be taken in."
"Did not the baker and the rest suspect anything, when they found two day's provisions untouched?"
"Lord bless you, no sir," said Bridge jovially. "The wicked Colonel was that queer, that nothing he did seemed strange."
"Well!" said Jim after a pause. "From what you tell me, it seems likely that this man Frisco knows something of the murder, if he did not commit it himself. Can't you find him?"
"There is no sign of the man sir."
"What about his appearance?"
"A stout sailor, that's what he looked like," said Bridge reflecting, "red hair and blue eyes, an American way of speaking, and a cross on his forehead right above the nose."
"A cross! What do you mean?"
"A scar sir; a criss-cross slash with a knife. Frisco said he got it in South America. But I don't rightly know how. Frisco could be secret if he liked, even in his cups, and he could drink rum by the bucket."
"Have you set the detectives after him?"
"Not yet. I am waiting until the inquest is held. It takes place to-day at 'The Pines.' You will be there Dr. Herrick, and your friend?"
"Certainly. But my friend can tell you no more than I can. If I were you though Mr. Inspector, I should certainly seek out this Frisco man at once. What is his real name?"
"I don't know nor anyone else sir. He was a mystery I tell you. As to looking him up, I like to do things in an orderly manner. First the inquest and all the available evidence sir. Then we shall see."
Herrick shrugged his broad shoulders. It was not his business to instruct Bridge, but it seemed to him foolish to delay hunting for this mysterious Frisco. The man might be innocent, but on the face of it there appeared to be a strong suspicion against him. Men do not disappear without some reason; and as Frisco was gone, leaving a dead body behind him, it looked as though terror had winged his heels. His reasons could resolve themselves into only one of two things. Either he had murdered his master himself, and had fled to avoid the consequences, or he knew who had committed the crime and, intimidated by the assassin, had made himself scarce.
While Herrick was turning over the situation in his own mind, a knock came to the door, immediately afterwards a girl entered. She was a slip of a thing, who looked about nineteen, slim and well-set up. Her face was oval and thin, and burnt red by wind and sun. Herrick had never before seen hair of such a glorious red; it resembled ruddy gold, and was wreathed in burnished coils round her well-shaped head. This young lady had eyes of a sapphire blue, and a firm-set mouth. Dressed in a navy serge plainly made, with a linen collar, a brown leathern belt, and gauntlet gloves, she looked trig and neat. A girl likely to be passed over in a crowd until one looked into her wonderful eyes. The soul that looked out of them proved she was a woman of no common intelligence. Her manner was refined and well-bred. She was remarkably cool, and after a shrewd glance at Herrick, addressed herself to the Inspector.
"I beg your pardon for interrupting you," she said in a brisk but not unmusical voice, "this inquest Mr. Inspector?"
"It takes place at 'The Pines' this afternoon Miss Endicotte," replied Bridge who seemed to know her well. "But surely Miss you will not attend."
"Certainly Mr. Bridge. I do the copy for the Chronicle. Besides, poor Colonel Carr was my friend, and I want to hear the truth about his death."
Herrick looked sharply at the only person he had heard speak sympathetically of the dead man. "There lives some soul of good in all things evil," he quoted, and a flash of the girl's teeth showed that she perfectly understood.
"Oh, I know that everyone speaks ill of the Colonel," said she a trifle sadly, "he was bad enough, no doubt. Yet, your quotation applies to him more than the gossip about him would lead you to suppose." Here she glanced at Bridge. Not so much to emphasise the fact that he talked ill of the dead, as to invite an introduction. Bridge was quick to see her real meaning.
"This is Dr. Herrick, who found the body," said he, "and this lady, doctor is Miss Bess Endicotte, who reports for the Beorminster Weekly Chronicle."
Jim was a trifle surprised and disappointed to find that this charming young lady occupied such a position, though why he should have been either he could not explain even to himself. However he bowed with a smile, and received the same courtesies in return. Miss Endicotte's eyes rested approvingly on his splendid figure. "This is what I call a man," they seemed to say, but with her tongue she uttered quite different sentiments.
"I am glad to meet you Dr. Herrick," she said gracefully, "you must tell me all about your discovery,--that is, you do not mind my making copy out of you."
"Not at all," responded Herrick eagerly, "I am accustomed to be made copy of. My friend Mr. Joyce, who is at present upstairs asleep, is a literary man. I am quite hand and glove with the guild I assure you."
"In that case we must be friends," said Miss Endicotte frankly. "Mr. Joyce was with you last night?"
"Unfortunate yes Miss Endicotte. He is a nervous man, and not strong. I am sorry to say that the terrible sight upset him. All the good I hoped he would obtain from this walking tour has disappeared."
"Are you on a walking tour?" asked Bridge who was putting on his cap.
"Yes! For the last fortnight we have been tramping over the country. The last place we stopped at was Southberry. Then we crossed the Heath to stumble on this disagreeable adventure. Why do you smile Miss Endicotte?"
The girl flushed a trifle. "I have heard of you!"
"Of me," Jim stared, "but I am not known in this part of the country my dear lady. Have we met before? Somehow, your face seems familiar?"
"It would be more familiar were I two inches taller and had dark hair," said Miss Endicotte with an amused look, "if you will stare at"--
"Ah!" interrupted Jim eagerly, "I remember now. The lady I saw talking to the little curate in Southberry church!"--
"Was my sister," replied the girl. "When you mentioned Southberry, I remembered that she mentioned how you stared at her, and described your appearance. Then I recognised you."
"I hope your sister did not think me rude," said Jim rather confused, "but the fact is, she is so--"
"I know," interrupted Miss Bess composedly. "Ida is accustomed to admiration. But this is not business," she added turning to Bridge, "Well what's to be done now Mr. Inspector?"
"Nothing can be done until the inquest is held," he replied going towards the door. "But I recommend you Miss Bess, to interview this gentleman. He can tell you much that will be of interest to your readers."
The Inspector slipped out with a laugh, and Miss Endicotte turned her sparkling eyes on Dr. Herrick. "I hope you won't think me a nuisance," she said, hesitating, "but if you could."--
"Only too pleased,"