he certainly wondered in his own mind, if despite the evidence of Mrs. Fane, her husband might not have something to do with the matter. To save his life, to keep him from shame, she might have kept silence. "But it's impossible," said Derrick aloud. "If he was guilty, she would not lie. If the victim had been a man now. But as it was a woman, a jealous creature like Mrs. Fane would certainly not sacrifice herself to save a man who deceived her. No; Fane is guiltless. But who is the culprit? That's the question." And it was a question which Derrick could not answer, though he tried to do so in his blundering way.
So the unknown woman was duly buried. Tracey and Fane went to the funeral, and the body was followed by a large concourse of those who wished to see the last of the victim of this mysterious tragedy. Every one agreed that Fane was behaving very well in thus giving the poor wretch decent burial. Fane looked white and worn when the grave was being filled in, and the rumour went round of how ill he had been, and how he had come up from a sick-bed to see this matter through. Several people shook hands with him as he left the cemetery, and he was congratulated on all hands. Then the gates of the burial-ground were closed, and the grave was left to the rain and the sunshine. For all any one present knew, its secret would not be delivered up until the Judgment-day.
It was the press that said the last word on the subject. The Daily Budget, always in search of the sensational, thought the affair strange enough to give it the honour of a leading article. As many people may remember the perplexity of police and public in connection with this murder, it may not be uninteresting to give an extract or two from the article.
"The inexplicable murder in Troy is one of those crimes which at once startle and shock the public. That a woman should be done to death in this manner is bad enough, but that with our wonderful police organisation, her identity should remain a mystery is nothing less than a scandal and a shame. If the houses of law-abiding citizens are to be made the shambles for unknown assassins, the sooner the police force is reorganised the better. And again, is it not disgraceful that nothing can be found likely to prove who this poor creature is? Have we not newspapers and agents and handbills and all the paraphernalia of civilisation for the detection of the unknown? Search should be made in the most minute manner in order to prove who this dead woman is. Once her name is discovered, in her past life may be found the reason of her untimely and tragic death. This is the opinion of Inspector Derrick, who has handled the case, with all its strange elements of mystery, with but an indifferent degree of success. Not but what we are prepared to admit that the case is remarkably difficult and would tax the intellect of a Vidocq to unravel.
"It would seem that the woman went to the house between eight and nine o'clock, and was murdered shortly after she entered the door. Certainly she was seated at the piano, and certainly the song of 'Kathleen Mavourneen' was open before her. But we are sure that she never sang the song. While waiting for some one-perhaps the assassin who struck her down-she may have played for a time. But the woman who sang the song did so some three hours after the death of the unfortunate creature. Mulligan swore that he heard the song about eleven; the doctor declares that the woman was murdered before nine o'clock. On the face of it, it is impossible to reconcile this conflicting evidence.
"No one saw the woman enter the house, although many people were about Achilles Avenue during the evening. But in the multitude of people-especially on a Saturday night-would lie the chance of the woman not being observed. Few people knew that Mr. Fane and his family-one little girl-were at the seaside; so even if any one had noticed the woman enter the gate of Ajax Villa such a thing would not be fixed in the mind of the observer. All inquiries have been made, but no one appears to have noted the woman's coming. It is therefore impossible to say if she entered the house alone or in the company of the assassin.
"And with regard to the assassin. We are inclined to think he is a man-and that man who spoke to the policeman at eleven o'clock. It might be, that gaining admittance by his latch-key with the woman, he killed her almost immediately he entered, and then watched his chance of escape. That he entered the house with the woman appears clear. We stated above that it is impossible to say if the woman entered the house alone. By this we mean that the man may have come earlier, and may have admitted her before nine o'clock. The poor creature walked into a death-trap. Taking her to the White Room, he lured her to sit down at the piano, which would give him an opportunity of standing behind her to stab her unawares. Then when she was dead, he probably looked out of the window to see how he could escape. Fear evidently kept him within till nearly eleven o'clock. Then he saw the policeman passing, and then he sang the song to make the man believe a woman was singing. Afterwards, when he had lulled any suspicions the policeman may have entertained, he came out and escaped in the manner described. This is our theory. The singer is described by Mulligan-a remarkably intelligent officer-as having a deep contralto voice; so it is probable the assassin sang in falsetto. That the man killed the woman and thus escaped, we are sure; for only he having the latch-key could have admitted her, and only he could have a reason to lure her into the house. What that reason may be, must remain for ever a mystery."
So far the Daily Budget with its gimcrack theory. A rival newspaper promptly set to work to pick holes in the case as presented by the paper. This rival journal, the Star of Morning, commented as follows:
"Our respected contemporary goes too fast. Evidence was given clearly by Mulligan that the song was being sung while the presumed assassin-in the Daily Budget's opinion-was in conversation with him at the gate. Therefore the young man with the pointed beard could not have sung 'Kathleen Mavourneen' in falsetto. The theory is amusing, but it won't hold water. Our belief is quite different, and we think more real.
"In the first place, we think that the young man was the person who admitted the women into the house. So far we agree with our contemporary. We say 'women,' because we believe there were two people, the victim and another woman. These two women came to the house either in the company of the young man or by themselves. In any case, he admitted them, since, however he obtained it, he alone possessed the latch-key, and was thus enabled to enter the deserted house. Once in the White Room, and the victim lured to the piano-again we agree-she was murdered. The two assassins-for both the man and the woman are equally guilty, though we are not prepared to say who actually struck the blow-then watched their opportunity to escape. It is a marvel that they should have remained three hours in the house, perhaps in the room, after the crime was committed. They arrived unseen along with their victim, so it is natural to think that they would have escaped from the house as soon as possible, positive that they would not be suspected. But guilt makes cowards of every one, and it made cowards of these two. They waited in the room, watching the gradual desertion of Achilles Avenue. About eleven they decided to venture. Then the policeman appears. Doubtless to save appearances, the woman sang. The man looking out, went away to lure the policeman. He did so, and then the woman escaped. She saw Mr. Tracey's motor-car standing unwatched at a gate, and forthwith used it to fly, fearful lest she should be followed. If she went straight to Charing Cross she must have arrived about half-past eleven. In the crowd in the yard on a Saturday night, with cabs and other vehicles coming and going, she would easily be able to draw up her car in a quiet corner. No one seems to have noticed her, and women driving motors is such a common spectacle now that no one would remark on the circumstance. We think that the woman then entered the station and left London. She may have escaped to the continent; she may have gone merely to a suburb. At all events, all trace of her is lost, and the deserted car was noted some hours later.
"This is our theory, and we think it is a more feasible one than that offered by our contemporary. As Mr. Fane is ignorant of the name of the deceased, it is inexplicable how she came to meet with her tragic death in his house. All the servants of Mr. Fane were at the seaside along with their master and mistress, so no blame can possibly be attached to them. Mr. Fane himself was ill in bed at Westcliff-on-Sea, so he can know nothing. He positively asserts that he alone possessed the latch-key, and the locksmith from whom he obtained it, declares that no duplicate was made. This is not the least strange element in this case. One thing we would draw our readers' attention to-the decoration of the room in which the murder was perpetrated. It was all white, and the black dress of the corpse must have formed a strange contrast to the snowy desert
