Detective and mystery stories; London (England) -- Fiction; Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction
"For what reason?"
"I can't tell you. It must be a powerful reason which would make this
woman seek out Binjoy when he had so carefully destroyed his
connection with Renshaw. But I have long had my suspicions of Mrs.
Boazoph. She removed the dead body; she answered my questions in a
hesitating manner, and attempted to exculpate herself without being
requested so to do. Also she got rid of the grains of gunpowder. All
these things show that Mrs. Boazoph knows more about the matter than
she chooses to tell."
"Do you think that she knows who committed the crime?"
"I wouldn't swear to that," said Fanks, with some hesitation; "but she
must have identified Renshaw with Binjoy, else she would never have
sought out the latter at Mere Hall."
"Do you believe that Mrs. Boazoph inveigled Fellenger to her hotel by
means of that advertisement, and then had him killed?"
"How can I tell?" retorted Fanks; "you know as much about the matter
as I do. But I will do Mrs. Boazoph the justice to say that I hardly
believe she would adopt a course so dangerous to herself. I do not
think that she had anything to do with the advertisement."
"The envelope was addressed in a woman's handwriting."
"No doubt; but the handwriting may not be that of Mrs. Boazoph. Still
she is in some way connected with Binjoy, and he is mixed up in the
crime."
"You mean that he employed the negro to commit it?"
"It looks like it; and yet," continued Fanks, with a frown, "the
evidence is too clear for me to take that view."
"Why! The clearer the evidence, the more certain you must be of the
truth."
Fanks shook his head. "From my experience I am inclined to doubt
easily-obtained evidence. Everything points to the committal of the
crime by the negro servant of Binjoy, and for that reason I do not
care to accept it. It would seem that in case of trouble Mrs. Boazoph
and Binjoy had provided for their own safety by throwing suspicion on
the negro."
"But one thing is clear enough," said Garth, impatiently, "the negro
killed my cousin."
"A negro killed your cousin, but not necessarily the negro of Binjoy."
Garth looked puzzled. "I am more in the dark than ever," he said.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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