The Green Mummy

Then one day Sidney chanced on the Latin manuscript, and learned that Braddock’s real reason for getting the mummy was to procure the emeralds which were held in the grip of the dead. Sidney kept this knowledge to himself, and Braddock never guessed that his assistant knew the truth. Then unexpectedly Braddock stumbled across the advertisement describing the green mummy for sale in Malta. From the color he made sure that it was that of Inca Caxas, and so moved heaven and earth to get money to buy it. At length he did, from Archie Hope, on condition that he consented to the marriage of his step-daughter with the young man. Thinking that Sidney was ignorant of the jewels, he sent him to bring the mummy home.

Sidney told Mrs. Jasher that he would try and steal the jewels in Malta or on board the tramp steamer. Failing that, he would delay the delivery of the mummy to Braddock on some excuse and rob it at Pierside. To make sure of escaping, he borrowed a disguise from his mother, alleging that Hope wanted the same to clothe a model. Sidney intended to take these clothes with him, and, after stealing the jewels, to escape disguised as an old woman. As he was slender and clean-shaven and a capital actor, he could easily manage this.

Then he arranged that Mrs. Jasher should join him in Paris, and they would sell the emeralds, and go to America, there to marry and live happily ever afterwards, like a fairy tale.

Unfortunately for the success of this plan, Mrs. Jasher thought that the Professor would make a more distinguished husband, so she betrayed all that Sidney, had arranged.

“What a beastly thing to do!” interrupted Random, disgusted. “It is not as if she wanted to help Braddock. I think less of Mrs. Jasher than ever I did. She might have remembered that there is honor amongst thieves.”

“Well, she is dead, poor soul!” said Hope with a sigh. “God knows that if she sinned, she has paid cruelly for her sin,” after which remark, as Sir Frank was silent, he resumed his reading.

Braddock was furious when he learned of his assistant’s projected trickery, and he determined to circumvent him. He agreed to marry Mrs. Jasher, as, if he had not done so, she could have warned Sidney and he could have escaped with both the mummy and the jewels by conniving with Hervey. The Professor could not risk that, as, remembering Hervey as Gustav Vasa, he was aware how clever and reckless he was. Whether Braddock ever intended to marry the widow in the end it is hard to say, but he certainly pretended to consent to the engagement, which was mainly brought about by Lucy. Then came the details of the murder so far as Mrs. Jasher knew.

One evening – in fact on the evening when the crime was committed – the woman was walking in her garden late. In the moonlight she saw Braddock and Cockatoo go down along the cinderpath to the jetty near the Fort. Wondering what they were doing, she waited up, and heard and saw them – for it was still moonlight – come back long after midnight. The next day she heard of the murder, and guessed that the Professor and his slave – for Cockatoo was little else – had rowed up to Pierside in a boat and there had strangled Sidney and stolen the mummy. She saw Braddock and accused him. The Professor had then opened the case, and had pretended astonishment when discovering the corpse of the man whom Cockatoo had strangled, as he knew perfectly well.

Braddock at first denied having been to Pierside, but Mrs. Jasher insisted that she would tell the police, so he was forced to make a clean breast of it to the woman.

“Now for it,” said Random, settling himself to hear details of the crime, for he had often wondered how it had been executed.

“Braddock,” read Archie from the confession, for Mrs. Jasher did not trouble herself with a polite prefix – “Braddock explained that when he received a letter from Sidney stating that he would have to remain with the mummy for a night in Pierside, he guessed that his treacherous assistant intended to effect the robbery. It seems that Sidney by mistake had left behind the disguise in which he intended to escape. Aware of this through me” – Mrs. Jasher referred to herself – “he made Cockatoo assume the dress and row up the river to the Sailor’s Rest. The Kanaka easily could be mistaken for a woman, as he also, like Sidney, was slender and smooth-chinned. Also, he wore the shawl over his head to disguise his mop of frizzy hair as much as possible, and for the purpose of concealing his tattooed face. In the darkness – it was after nine o’clock – he spoke to Sidney through the window, as he had seen him there earlier, when searching for him. Cockatoo said that Sidney was much afraid when he heard that his purpose had been discovered by the Professor. He offered a share of the plunder to the Kanaka, and Cockatoo agreed, saying he would come back late, and that Sidney was to admit him into the bedroom so that they could open the mummy and steal the jewels. Sidney quite believed that Cockatoo was heart and soul with him, especially as the cunning Kanaka swore that he was weary of his master’s tyranny. It was when Cockatoo was talking thus that he was seen by Eliza Flight, who mistook him – very naturally – for a woman. Cockatoo then returned by boat to the Gartley jetty and told his master. Afterwards, the Professor, at a much later hour, went down to the jetty and was rowed up to Pierside by the Kanaka.”

“That was when Mrs. Jasher saw them,” said Random, much interested.

“Yes,” said Archie. “And then, if you remember; she watched for the return of the couple.”

“It was nearly midnight when the boat was brought alongside the sloping stone bank of the alley which ran past the Sailor’s Rest. No one was about at that hour, not even a policeman, and there was no light in Sidney Bolton’s window. Braddock was much agitated as he thought that Sidney had already escaped. He waited in the boat and sent Cockatoo to knock at the window. Then a light appeared and the window was silently opened. The Kanaka slipped in and remained there for some ten minutes after closing the window. When he returned, the light was extinguished. He whispered to his master that Sidney had opened the packing case and the mummy coffin, and had ripped the swathings to get the jewels. When Sidney would not hand over the jewels to the Kanaka, as the latter wanted him to, Cockatoo, already prepared with the window cord, which he had silently taken from the blind, sprang upon the unfortunate assistant and strangled him. Cockatoo told this to his horrified master, and wanted him to come back to hide the corpse in the packing case. Braddock refused, and then Cockatoo told him that he would throw the jewels – which he had taken from Sidney’s body – into the river. The position of master and servant was reversed, and Braddock was forced to obey.

“The Professor slipped silently ashore and into the room. The two men relighted the candle and pulled down the blind. They then placed the corpse of Sidney in the packing case, and screwed the same down in silence. When this was completed, they were about to carry the mummy in its coffin – the lid of which they had replaced – to the boat, when they heard distant footsteps, probably those of a policeman on his beat. At once they extinguished the candle, and – as Braddock told Mrs. Jasher – he, for one, sat trembling in the dark. But the policeman – if the footsteps were those of a policeman – passed up another street, and the two were safe. Without relighting the candle, they silently slipped the mummy through the window, Cockatoo within and Braddock without. The case and its contents were not heavy, and it was not difficult for the two men to take it to the boat. When it was safely bestowed, Cockatoo – who was as cunning as the devil, according to his master returned to the bedroom, and unlocked the door. He afterwards passed a string through the joining of the upper and lower windows, and managed to shut the snib. Afterwards he came to the boat and rowed it back to Gartley. On the way Cockatoo told his master that Sidney had left instructions that the packing case should be taken next morning to the Pyramids, so there was nothing to fear. The mummy was hidden in a hole under the jetty and covered with grass.”

“Why didn’t they take it up to the house?” asked Random, on hearing this.

“That would have been dangerous,” said Hope, looking up from the manuscript, “seeing that the mummy was supposed to have been stolen by the murderer. It was easier to hide it amongst the grasses under the jetty, as no one ever goes there. Well” – he turned over a few pages – “that is practically all. The rest is after events.”

“I want to hear them,” said Random, taking another cup of coffee.

Hope ran his eyes swiftly over the remaining portion of the paper, and gave further details rapidly to his friend.

“You know all that happened,” he said, “the Professor’s pretended surprise when he found the corpse he had himself helped to pack and – ”

“Yes! yes! But why was the mummy placed in Mrs. Jasher’s garden?”

“That was Braddock’s idea. He fancied that the mummy might be found under the jetty and that inconvenient inquiries might be made. Also, he wished if possible to implicate Mrs. Jasher, so as to keep her from telling to the police what he had told her. He and Cockatoo went down to the river one night and removed the mummy to the arbor silently. Afterwards he pretended to be astonished when I found it. I must say he acted his part very well,” said Hope reflectively, “even to accusing Mrs. Jasher. That was a bold stroke of genius.”

“A very dangerous one.”

“Not at all. He swore to Mrs. Jasher that if she said anything, he would tell the police that she had taken the clothes provided by Sidney from the Pyramids and had gone to speak through the window, in order to fly with Sidney and the emeralds. As the fact of the mummy being found in Mrs. Jasher’s garden would lend color to the lie, she was obliged to hold her tongue. And after all, as she says, she didn’t mind, since she was engaged to the Professor, and possessed at least one of the emeralds.”

“Ah! the one she passed along to me. How did she get that?”

Hope referred again to the manuscript.

“She insisted that Braddock should give it to her as a pledge of good faith. He had to do it, or risk her splitting. That was why he placed the mummy in her garden, so as to bring her into the matter, and render it more difficult for her to speak.”

“What of the other emerald?”

“Braddock took that to Amsterdam, when he went to London that time – if you remember, when Don Pedro arrived. Braddock sold the emerald for three thousand pounds, and it is now on its way to an Indian rajah. I fear Don Pedro will never set eyes on that again.”

“Where is the money?”

“He banked it in a feigned name in Amsterdam, and intended to account for it when he married Mrs. Jasher by saying it was left to her by that mythical Pekin merchant brother of hers. Savvy!”

“Yes. What an infernal little villain! And I expect he sent Cockatoo down last night for the other emerald.”

“That is not related in the manuscript,” said Archie, laying down the last sheet and taking up his coffee. “The confession ends abruptly – at the time Cockatoo tapped at the window, I expect. But she said, when dying, that the Kanaka asked for the second emerald. If she had not sent it to you in a fit of weakness, I expect she would have passed it along. I can’t make out,” added Archie musingly, “why Mrs. Jasher confessed when everything was so safe.”

“Well,” said Random, nursing his chin, and staring into the fire, “she made a mistake in trying to blackmail me, though why she did so I can’t tell, seeing she had the whiphand of Braddock. Perhaps she wanted the five thousand to spend herself, knowing that the Professor’s plunder would be wasted on his confounded expedition. At any rate she gave herself away by the blackmail, and I expect she grew frightened. If the house had been searched – and it might have been searched by the police, had I arrested her for blackmail the emerald would have been found and she would have been incriminated. She therefore got rid of it cleverly, by passing it along to me as a wedding gift. Then she again grew afraid and wrote out this confession to exonerate herself.”

“But it doesn’t,” insisted Hope. “She makes herself out plainly as an accessory after the fact.”

“A woman doesn’t understand these legal niceties. She wrote that out to clear herself in case she was arrested for the blackmail, and perhaps in case Braddock refused to help her – as he certainly did, if you remember.”

“He was hard on her,” confessed Archie slowly.

“Being such a villain himself,” said Random grimly. “However, Cockatoo arrived unluckily on the scene, and when he found she had parted with the emerald, and had written out the truth, he stabbed her. If we hadn’t come just in the nick of time, he would have annexed that confession, and the truth would never have become known. No one,” ended Random, rising and stretching himself, “would connect Braddock or Cockatoo with the death of Mrs. Jasher.”

“Or with the death of Sidney Bolton either,” said Hope, also rising and putting on his cap. “What an actor the man is!”

“Where are you going?” demanded Sir Frank, yawning.

“To the Pyramids. I want to see how Lucy is.”

“Will you tell her about that confession?”

“Not until later. I shall give this to Inspector Date when he arrives. The Professor has made his bed, so he must lie on it. When I marry Lucy, I’ll take her away from this damned place.”

“Marry her at once, then,” advised Random, “while the Professor is doing time, and while Cockatoo is being hanged. Meanwhile, I think you had better put on your overcoat, unless you want to walk through the village in crumpled evening dress, like a dissipated undergraduate.”

Archie laughed in spite of his weariness, and assumed his greatcoat at the same moment as Random slipped into his. The two young men walked out into the village and up to the Pyramids, for Random wished to see Braddock before returning to the Fort. They found the door of the great house open and the servants in the hall.

“What is all this?” demanded Hope, entering. “Why are you here, and not at work? Where is your master?”

“He’s run away,” said the cook in a shrill voice. “Lord knows why, sir.”

“Archie! Archie!” Lucy came running out of the museum, pale-faced and white, “my father has gone away with Cockatoo and the green mummy. What does it mean? And just when poor Mrs. Jasher is murdered too.”

“Hush, darling! Come in, and I’ll explain,” said Hope gently.

CHAPTER XXVI. THE APPOINTMENT

Poor Lucy Kendal was terribly grieved and shocked when the full account of her step-father’s iniquity was revealed to her. Archie tried to break the news as delicately as possible, but no words could soften the sordid story. Lucy, at first, could not believe it possible that a man, whom she had known for so long, and to whom she was related, would behave in such a base way. To convince her Hope was forced to let her read the account in Mrs. Jasher’s handwriting. When acquainted with the contents, the poor girl’s first desire was to have the matter hushed up, and she implored her lover with tears to suppress the damning document.

“That is impossible,” said Hope firmly; “and if you think again, my dear, you will not repeat such a request. It is absolutely necessary that this should be placed in the hands of the police, and that the truth should become as widely known as possible. Unless the matter is settled once and for all, someone else may be accused of this murder.”

“But the disgrace,” wept Lucy, hiding her face on her lover’s shoulder.

He slipped his arm round her waist.

“My darling, the disgrace exists whether it be public or private. After all, the Professor is no relation.”

“No. But everyone knows that I am his step-daughter.”

“Everyone,” echoed Archie, with an assumed lightness. “My dear, everyone in this instance only means the handful of people who live in this out-of-the-way village. Your name will not appear in the papers. And even if by chance it does, you will soon be changing it for mine. I think the best thing that can be done is for you to come with me to London next week and marry me. Then we can go to the south of France for the rest of the winter, until you recover. When we return and set up house in London – say in a year – the whole affair will be forgotten.”

“But how can you bear to marry me, when you know that I come of such a bad stock?” wept Lucy, a trifle more comforted.

“My dear, must I remind you again that you are no relation to Professor Braddock; you have not a drop of his wicked blood in your veins. And even if you had, I should still marry you. It is you I love, and you I marry, so there is no more to be said. Come, darling, say that you will become my wife next week.”

“But the Professor?”

Archie smiled grimly. He found it difficult to forgive Braddock for the disgrace he had brought on the girl.

“I don’t think we’ll ever be troubled again with the Professor,” he said, after a pause. “He has bolted into the unknown with that infernal Kanaka.”

“But why did he fly, Archie?”

“Because he knew that the game was up. Mrs. Jasher wrote out this confession, and told Cockatoo, when he entered the room to get the emerald, that she had written it. To save his master the Kanaka stabbed the wretched woman, and, had Random and I not arrived, he would have secured the confession. I really believe he came back again out of the mist in the small hours of the morning to steal it. But when he found that all was vain, he returned here and told the Professor that the story of the murder had been written out. Therefore there was nothing left to Braddock but to fly. Although,” added Hope, with an afterthought, “I can’t imagine why those two fugitives should drag that confounded mummy with them.”

“But why should the Professor fly?” asked Lucy again. “According to what Mrs. Jasher writes, he did not strangle poor Sidney.”

“No. And I will do him the justice to say that he had no idea of having his assistant murdered. It was Cockatoo’s savage blood which came out in the deed, and maybe it can be explained by the Kanaka’s devotion to the Professor. It was the same way in the murder of Mrs. Jasher. By killing Bolton, the Kanaka hoped to save the emeralds for Braddock: in stabbing Mrs. Jasher, he hoped to save the Professor’s life.”

“Oh, Archie, will they hang my father?”

Hope winced.

“Call him your step-father,” he said quickly. “No, dear, I do not think he will be hanged; but as an accessory after the fact he will certainly be condemned to a long term of imprisonment. Cockatoo, however, assuredly will be hanged, and a good job too. He is only a savage, and as such is dangerous in a civilized community. I wonder where they have gone? Did anyone hear them going?”

“No,” said Lucy unhesitatingly. “Cook came up this morning to my room, and said that my father – I mean my step-father – had gone away with Cockatoo and with the green mummy. I don’t know why she should have said that, as the Professor often went away unexpectedly.”

“Perhaps she heard rumors in the village and put two and two together. I cannot tell. Some instinct must have told her. But I daresay Braddock and his accomplice fled under cover of the mist and in the small hours of the morning. They must have known that the confession would bring the officers of the law to this house.”

“I hope they will escape,” murmured Lucy.

“Well, I am not sure,” said Hope hesitatingly. “Of course, I should like to avoid a scandal for your sake, and yet it is only right that the two of them should be punished. Remember, Lucy dear, how Braddock has acted all along in deceiving us. He knew all, and yet not one of us suspected him.”

While Archie was thus comforting the poor girl, Gartley village was in an uproar. Everyone was talking about this new crime, and everyone was wondering who had stabbed the unlucky woman. As yet the confession of Mrs. Jasher had not been placed in the hands of the police and everyone was ignorant that Cockatoo was the criminal who had escaped in the fog. Inspector Date speedily arrived with his myrmidons on the scene and made the cottage his headquarters. Later in the day, Hope, having taken a cold bath to freshen himself up, came with the confession. This he gave to the officer and explained the whole story of the previous night.

Date was more than astonished: he was astounded. He read the confession and made notes; then he sent for Sir Frank Random, and examined him in the same strict way as he had examined the artist. Jane was also questioned. Widow Anne was put in the witness box, so as to report about the clothes, and in every way Date gathered material for another inquest. At the former one he had only been able to place scanty evidence before the jury, and the verdict had been unsatisfactory to the public. But on this occasion, seeing that the witnesses he could bring forward would solve the mystery of the first death as well as the second, Inspector Date exulted greatly. He saw himself promoted and his salary raised, and his name praised in the papers as a zealous and clever officer. By the time the inquest came to be held, the inspector had talked himself into believing that the whole mystery had been solved by himself. But before that time came another event happened which astonished everyone, and which made the final phase of the green mummy crime even more sensational than it had been. And Heaven knows that from beginning to end there had been no lack of melodrama of the most lurid description.

Don Pedro de Gayangos was exceedingly amazed at the unexpected turn which the case had taken. That he should have been trying to solve a deep mystery for so long, and that the solution, all the time, had been in the hands of the Professor, startled him exceedingly. He admitted that he had never liked Braddock, but explained that he had not expected to hear that the fiery little scientist was such a scoundrel. But, as Don Pedro confessed, it was an ill wind which blew him some good, when the upshot of the whole mysterious tragic business was the restoration of at least one emerald. Sir Frank brought the gem to him on the afternoon of the day succeeding Mrs. Jasher’s death, and while the whole village was buzzing with excitement. It was Random who gave all details to Donna Inez and her father, leading from one revelation to another, until he capped the whole extraordinary story by producing the splendid gem.

“Mine! mine!” said Don Pedro, his dark eyes glittering. “Thanks be to the Virgin and the Saints,” and he bowed his head to make the sign of the cross devoutly on his breast.

Donna Inez clapped her hands and her eyes flashed, for, like every woman, she had a profound love for jewels.

“Oh, how lovely, Frank! It must be worth no end of money.”

“Professor Braddock sold the other to some Indian rajah in Amsterdam – through an agent, I presume for three thousand pounds.”

“I shall get more than that,” said Don Pedro quickly. “The Professor sold his jewel in a hurry and had no time to bargain. But sooner or later I shall get five thousand pounds for this.” He held the gem in the sunlight, where it glowed like an emerald sun. “Why, it is worthy of a king’s crown.”

“I fear you will never get the other gem,” said Random regretfully. “I believe that it is on its way to India, if Mrs. Jasher can be trusted.”

“Never mind. I shall be content with this one, senor. I have simple tastes, and this will do much to restore the fortunes of my family. When I go back with this and the green mummy, all those Indians who know of my descent from the ancient Incas will be delighted and will pay me fresh reverence.”

“But you forget,” said Random, frowning, “the green mummy has been taken away by Professor Braddock.”

“They cannot have gone far with it,” said Donna Inez, shrugging.

“I don’t know so much about that, dearest,” said Sir Frank. “Apparently, since they handled it at the time of the murder, it is easier carried about than one would think. And then they fled last night, or rather in the small hours of this morning, under cover of a dense fog.”

“It is clear enough now,” said De Gayangos, peering through the window, where a pale winter sun shone in a clear steel-hued sky. “They are bound to be caught in the long run.”

“Do you wish them to be caught?” asked Random abruptly.