THE SAME

Immediately after this great discovery, Fanks received a letter from
Garth informing him that Mrs. Jerusalem was in London, located at the
Red Star. “Mrs. Boazoph,” said the writer, “is much better, and is now
permitted to leave her bed; rather I fancy to the disappointment of
Turnor. Should you want to get any information out of Mrs. Boazoph now
is the time to do so.” The result of this communication was that Fanks
resolved to go at once to town and interview the landlady.

“You see that I want to get something out of Mrs. Boazoph,” he said to
Louis. “I want her to tell me who killed Sir Gregory.”

“Do you think she knows that?”

“I think she has known it all along,” retorted Fanks. “You can take it
from me, Fellenger, she recognised the negro when he entered the hotel
on that night. For some reason, which I mean to discover, she has held
her tongue. I intend to force her to reveal the name by threatening to
arrest Hersham, in the event of her refusing to speak.”

“Will she tell in order to save Hersham?”

“I think so; and for more reasons than one. You see she fainted when I
told her that I could prove the crime against that young man. It may
be that she knows how hardly he has been dealt with by Madeline Garry,
and therefore she may be anxious to save him further trouble.”

“But how could she learn the story of Madeline Garry and the changing
of the children,” objected Fellenger.

“From Anne Colmer, who must have learned it from Dr. Binjoy. I believe
he is at the bottom of the whole affair. I do not say that he killed
Gregory; but he can tell us who did.”

“How can you prove that?”

“Well, the person who killed Gregory must have known that story of the
changing of the children, so as to induce him to let the cross be
tattooed on his arm. Dr. Binjoy must have told that person; Dr. Binjoy
must have supplied that needle; Dr. Binjoy, my friend, is at the
bottom of the whole devilish affair.”

“You forget Madeline Garry; she might have told the murderer about the
changing of the children.”

“I don’t think so. Madeline would not have been likely to reveal
anything detrimental to her son; and on the face of it she could not
have obtained access to the poisoned needle. No, I suspect Binjoy as
an accessory before the fact. I shall see Mrs. Jerusalem, and force
her to tell me where to find Madeline Garry; though to be sure I have
a pretty good notion of where to find her as it is.”

“What! Do you know who Madeline Garry is?”

“I think so. A speech of Mrs. Prisom’s put me on her track; but I may
be wrong so I shall say nothing as yet.”

“You are clever in guessing things, Mr. Fanks. Perhaps you can tell me
who killed Gregory?”

“Well,” said Fanks, looking straight at his questioner, “I might even
go as far as that. I do not know for certain who is the assassin; but
I have a shrewd notion. I shall have my doubts set at rest on that
point when I see these women in town. I shall interview Mrs. Boazoph,
take down her confession, and make her sign it. I shall act in the
same way with Binjoy, with Anne Colmer, with Robert, the valet of the
dead man, and with Turnor, the accomplice of your medical friend.”

“Do you think they are all in it?”

“I am more than certain they are,” said Fanks in a confident tone.
“Well, Mr. Fellenger, will you come up with me and see the last act of
the comedy?”

“No, I shall stay here with Mr. Crate; and keep an eye on Dr. Binjoy,
But you must write me all that befalls you at the Red Star. Do you
really think that you will find the truth in that house?”

“I am certain of it. Believe me the tragedy will end as it began–in
the Red Star in Tooley’s Alley. I hope all will go as I wish,” added
Fanks with a gloomy air. “I have had no end of trouble with this case.
And although I think I see daylight at last, I must not be too
confident. The whole proving of my theory lies with Mrs. Boazoph.”

Having thus settled his plans, Fanks left Crate at Mere Hall to look
after Dr. Binjoy, and repaired to town. Immediately on his arrival,
which took place about noon, he sent for Garth, and questioned him
concerning Mrs. Jerusalem. Having received satisfactory replies, he
entrusted a special commission to the lawyer, and, with a detective,
he went himself to the Red Star. That short conversation with Fanks so
astonished Garth, that he went on his errand–which had to do with
such conversation–in a state of great surprise and no little
nervousness.

At the Red Star Fanks inquired for Mrs. Jerusalem, and was confronted
by Dr. Turnor. The ferret looked rather disconcerted as the detective
appeared; and tried to dissuade him from seeing Mrs. Boazoph as he
wished to do. “She is yet weak,” he urged, “and I do not think it will
be wise of you to talk with her as yet.”

“I don’t care how weak she is,” said Fanks, grimly. “I intend to talk
to her, and to you too.”

“What can you have to say to me?” demanded Turnor, with an attempt at
bravado.

“I’ll tell you that after I have seen Mrs. Boazoph and Mrs.
Jerusalem,” was the reply. “I know all your doings on the night of the
twenty-first, Dr. Turnor; and I am aware of your attempt to blackmail
Sir Louis Fellenger.”

After which speech Fanks went upstairs to the room occupied by Mrs.
Boazoph. At the door he met with Mrs. Jerusalem. She looked at him in
an expressionless way, and spoke in her usual cold and unemotional
manner. Her first question was of Fanks’ visit to Mere Hall.

“Did you find out the truth, sir?” she asked.

“I found out the truth; but not the particular truth you wished for,”
replied Fanks, who disliked this woman immensely. “Your master is not
guilty.”

“Then who is guilty if he is not?”

“I’ll reveal that in a few moments, Mrs. Jerusalem. I may tell you
that I know all about Madaline Garry and the tattooed cross, also
about Mr. Louis Fellenger.”

The woman drew back, and for the first time since Fanks had known her,
an expression of surprise flitted across her face. “He said Mr.
Louis,” she said to herself. “How much does he know?”

“He knows most of the circumstances which led to the murder in this
house,” retorted Fanks, moving towards the door, “and now with your
assistance he is about to learn the rest.”

“At all events the truth will be bad for Louis Fellenger,” muttered
Mrs. Jerusalem. “If it was to benefit him I would not move a step. As
it is,” she added, throwing open the door, “come in, Mr. Fanks, and
ask Mrs. Boazoph to tell you the story she related to me this
morning.”

Fanks nodded, and without saying a word entered the apartment. In
spite of the warm weather there was a fire burning in the grate, and
beside it crouched Mrs. Boazoph. She was seated on the carpet warming
her thin hands at the blaze; and she turned her face as the detective
entered. He was astonished at the change wrought in her by illness.
Her face was lined and drawn with pain; her hair was falling about her
ears in rough masses; and the looseness of her dress showed how
emaciated she had become. The poor creature was but a shadow of the
notorious woman who had defied the police for so long; and at the
first glance Fanks saw that death was written on her haggard face. If
there was anything to be learned from this wreck there was no time to
be lost in hearing it. Nemesis had claimed at least one victim for the
death of Sir Gregory Fellenger;–or rather Edward Fielding.

“Have you come here to see me die, Mr. Fanks?” asked Mrs. Boazoph,
with a faint smile.

“I hope it is not so bad as that,” replied Fanks gently, for he pitied
the exhaustion of the poor creature. “You may get better.”

Mrs. Boazoph shook her head. “I think not,” she said quietly. “The end
is coming fast. I do not care; my life has been none so happy that I
should wish to live. I am anxious to die.”

“Are you anxious to make reparation for your crimes?”

With a start Mrs. Boazoph looked at the other woman, who still stood
at the door. “What have you told him?” she asked in a hoarse voice.

“I have told him nothing,” replied Mrs. Jerusalem, coldly, “but he
knows all.”

“That is impossible,” muttered Mrs. Boazoph, with a shiver. “He cannot
know all. Who is there to tell him?”

“I was told by the dead.”

“The dead? What dead?”

“By your dead lover, on whose son you avenged your betrayal, Mrs.
Bryant.”

She shivered, and looked up angrily. “Not that name, I am not Mrs.
Bryant.”

“I can give you another name if you like,” said Fanks, pointedly.
“Shall I say Mrs. Fielding or–Madaline Garry?”

The woman rose to her knees with an effort; and parting the tangled
mass of her grey hair she looked at Fanks in a terrified manner.
“Madaline Garry is dead,” she said, in a low voice. “She died when she
married Luke Fielding. Neglect and dishonour killed her.”

“Madaline Garry did not die then,” said Fanks, determinedly. “She
lived to avenge herself on her lover by exchanging his child for that
of her own.”

“They were both his children,” cried Mrs. Boazoph, with sudden fury,
“I see you know all; so I can speak as I choose. I loved Francis
Fellenger, and he betrayed me. I should have been his wife, but, like
the coward he was, he married another woman. I became the wife of Luke
Fielding, of the man I hated, in order to conceal the truth from my
father. The child I bore was not his. It should have borne the title
of the Fellengers.”

“And it did bear the title of the Fellengers,” said Fanks, in an
impressive voice. “It took the place of the real heir, thanks to your
schemes. And you, Madaline Garry, deserted the infant of your rival,
after you had robbed him of his birthright. Wretched woman; make
reparation while you can; give back his name to Edward Hersham, before
it is too late, or” added Fanks, drawing nearer, “keep silence to the
end; and let him suffer on the gallows for the murder of your son.”

“No! No!” shrieked Mrs. Boazoph, clutching at her chair to raise
herself, “not that, anything but that. He is innocent. I tell you that
he is innocent!”

“If he is innocent, who then is guilty?” asked Fanks.

Mrs. Boazoph reeled, and would have fallen but for the arm of Mrs.
Jerusalem, who sprang forward to catch her. A draught of brandy
brought back her strength, and she sat in the chair by the fire,
rocking herself to and fro, with heart-rending sobs. Fanks approached
to speak to her, but she waved him off.

“Do not touch her yet,” said Mrs. Jerusalem, in a low tone, “she will
recover soon.”

Quiet as was the whisper, Mrs. Boazoph heard it, and moaned. “Never,
never on this side of the grave,” he wept. “My race is run; and weary
have been my days. I never had a chance like other women. Once I was
Madaline Garry, the darling of her father, the prettiest girl in
Damington. But Francis Fellenger made me what I am. I curse him,
living or dead, I curse him.” She broke into hysterical laughter. “I
revenged myself well. I put my child and his in the place of the heir.
It was my son who reigned at Mere Hall; it was my son who spent the
moneys of that evil family, and bore their title. I am glad of it; I
am glad of it. The real heir–her child–had to work for his bread;
but mine reigned in his place; he took the seat of his father. Of what
use was it that Francis marked his son as he marked me? See,” she
cried, pulling up the sleeve of her dress. “Do you see this cross on
my skin, you bloodhound of the law? Francis Fellenger marked me like
that to show that I was his wife; yet he married another. Francis
marked his legitimate son like that, yet the son ate the bread of
strangers, and another sat in his seat. I have done my work, I have
had my revenge, I am willing to die.”

“Are you willing that the son whom you disinherited should die at the
hands of justice?”

Mrs. Boazoph moaned, and hid her face in her hands. “Ah, no!” she
said, in a plaintive voice. “He has suffered enough. My son is dead,
so let the other take back his name and estates. My son is dead; he
perished in the house of his mother; the mother who was too cowardly
to avenge him, who was afraid to reveal the name of the assassin. My
son is dead, but not by the hand of his half-brother did he meet with
his death.”

“Then who killed him. Tell me,” cried Fanks, eagerly. “You have
sinned. Make what reparation you can for your sins while there is yet
time. Look up, Madaline Garry, and tell me if that man slew your son?”

While Fanks had been speaking, the door had opened softly, and Garth
in the company of another man appeared on the threshold. The two stood
spell-hound when they heard this speech of the detective; and Mrs.
Boazoph turned her face slowly towards them. Suddenly she crushed down
her weakness, and arose to her feet with miraculous strength.
Stretching out her hand at the man who stood terror-stricken awaiting
her words, she cried out in a shrill and triumphant voice:

“Yonder is the man who killed my son; yonder is the man who must
suffer in the place of Edward Hersham. You wish to know who came here
as a negro and killed my son? There he stands–Herbert Vaud!”

“I thought so,” murmured Fanks, and the next instant he had the
handcuffs on Vaud’s wrists.

The evidence of Mrs. Boazoph:–

“My name is Madaline Garry. I was born in the village of Damington,
where my father lived for years after his retirement from the navy. I
have one sister, Jane, now Mrs. Colmer, of Taxton-on-Thames. We lost
our mother at an early age, and, being without maternal care, we grew
up to be rather more independent than most young women. Jane was
always much quieter than I, and she was not considered so beautiful.
Yes, I am now an old woman, and I can speak without vanity; I was
considered very beautiful, in my youth, and I had many lovers who
wished to marry me. Luke Fielding especially was in love with me, but
I refused to marry him as, in my turn, I was in love with Sir Francis
Fellenger. He had then lately given up the sea on his accession to the
title; but still retaining his pleasure in his old profession he was
accustomed to visit my father, and the two would talk over naval
matters together.

“At first he came solely for these chats, but afterwards he came
because he was in love with me. Had I played my cards well, I might
have been Lady Fellenger; but in my love and weakness I trusted too
much to his honour, and I learned, too late, that he had none. He had
promised to make me his wife; but he afterwards told me that the
fortunes of his family were at a low ebb; that if he did not make a
rich marriage he should be forced to sell the Hall. He swore that he
loved no one but me, and said that although he married another woman I
should always be his real wife. Again I yielded to his cunning, and
held my peace about his villainy. Nay, more, to hide his wickedness, I
married my old admirer, Luke Fielding, almost at the same time that
Francis brought home Miss Darmer to take the place which should have
been mine. I should have been Lady Fellenger, and not that puling
minx. Afterwards, I discovered that he loved her–loved her, the
villain, after all the lies he had told to me. I swore to be revenged,
and I told him so.

“Then my husband died, and I was left penniless, as Luke had been
trying to increase his fortune by speculation. I became a mother, and
the son born of me had the right to call Sir Francis Fellenger father.
In my destitution I went back to my father, and nursed my boy, while I
watched events at the Hall. There the punishment of Francis had
already begun. His wife, for whose sake he had forsaken me, died at
the birth of her son. So matters stood. The two children, both of
Francis Fellenger, although but one was acknowledged, had been born
within a few days of one another. A nurse was wanted at the Hall. I
required money; and I saw an opportunity of working out my revenge by
changing the children. I insisted that I should come to the Hall as
the nurse of the heir. Francis resisted, until I swore to reveal all
his villainy. Then he yielded, and I attained my end; I was
established at Mere Hall as the nurse of the heir, and my child,
Edward Fielding–falsely so called–was in the nursery with me.

“The two children lay side by side in the cradle. I could have changed
them then, but I was unable to do so with safety; for, guessing my
purpose, Francis had marked his son with the St. Catharine’s Cross,
which he had long before pricked on my arm. I could not, therefore,
change the children with safety while Francis lived, and I began to
think that I should not succeed in my revenge. Then the powers above
us intervened. Francis, while driving home one stormy night, was
thrown out of his dog-cart and killed. I saw my opportunity, and I
took it. Nobody knew of the tattooed cross on the skin of the real
heir, save myself and Dr. Binjoy, who had been attending on both
children. He was in love with me, and I made him promise to be silent.
When I had secured his promise, which I did by saying that I would
marry him, I changed the children; in the cradle of the heir I placed
my own child, and with the son of my rival I left the village.

“I never intended to marry Binjoy, whom I hated, and when I fled he
was forced to hold his tongue, lest he should be accused of complicity
in the abduction. I went to London, but my money came to an end; I
travelled to the Isle of Wight, where my sister was staying. She had
left Ryde, I found out, and had gone to Scotland. I had no money, I
was hungry, and perishing with cold, when I was rescued by that good
Samaritan, the Vicar of Fairview. He wished to adopt the child, and,
as I hated it, as being the son of my rival in the affections of
Francis, I let him take it. Then I went to London, afterwards to
Scotland, where I lived with my sister, who married Mr. Colmer. Later
on I became the wife of a drunken and wealthy brute called Bryant.
Then came misfortune. My sister’s husband lost his money, and died of
broken heart. She took her little girls, Emma and Anne, and set up in
Taxton-on-Thames as a dressmaker.

“I came South with my husband. He lost his money also, but he was set
up by his friends in the Red Star public-house in Tooley’s Alley. We
took the name of Mr. and Mrs. Boazoph, so as to cut off all links with
our former lives. My husband drank, and ultimately he died of drink.
As Mrs. Boazoph I carried on the business and drifted into evil ways.
I assisted thieves and rogues. If you wish to know my history for
twenty years ask the police; they will tell it to you. My sister had
become paralytic and never knew me as Mrs. Boazoph. To her I was Mrs.
Bryant, living on the little money left to me by my good husband. I
hope she may die in that belief, so that I may retain at least one
person’s respect.

“All this time I had watched the fortunes of the two children. The
false Sir Gregory had grown up to be a wicked young man, fast and
dissolute, the true Sir Gregory, passing under the name of Edward
Hersham, had become a journalist, and was reported steady and clever.
Dr. Binjoy had left Damington, and was living at Taxton-on-Thames with
Louis, the son of Michael Fellenger. Then my niece Emma came to London
to enter a dressmaker’s establishment. She found out the truth about
my life, and told her sister. I asked them to keep the knowledge from
their mother.

“Binjoy also found out where and how I was living. He used to come up
to town and stay at Dr. Turnor’s or with me as Dr. Renshaw, hoping by
a feigned name to hide the iniquitous life he led while in town. He
wanted to oust my son and get Sir Louis to hold the Fellenger estates.
I refused to let him do this, and threatened to produce the real heir
should he attempt to do so. Young Vaud used to come to my hotel. He
saw Emma and fell in love with her. I was glad of this, as I knew
that the young fellow was good and true, much better than my wretched
son, for whom I had sinned. Vaud became engaged to Emma. He went to
Taxton-on-Thames and saw my sister; she gave her consent to the match.
All was going well, when Emma, who had become acquainted with my son,
the false Sir Gregory, went off with him to Paris. He married her and
neglected her. She destroyed herself, as was confessed to me by the
valet Robert, a dog of a creature.

“I was distracted when I learned all this. I went to my sister and I
told her that the false Sir Gregory was my son. I returned to town to
find that young Vaud was seriously ill. Afterwards he was sent on a
sea voyage, and he went over to Paris when he got back to rescue Emma
from my miserable son. She was dead, and he returned to see if he
could take vengeance on her murderer. He told me that he would kill
Sir Gregory, but I thought that it was an idle threat. Afterwards I
saw nothing more of him for some time. My sister asked for the address
of Sir Gregory, as she wanted a photograph of Emma which had been
taken at Taxton-on-Thames.

“When I went to Gregory’s rooms in Half-Moon Street to tell him the
truth, I saw the photograph. I wrote on it the date of the birth and
death of his victim. I told him about the tattooed cross, and how I
could prove that he was not the real Sir Gregory, because he had not
that mark on his arm. He did not believe me, and turned me out of his
rooms, me–his mother. At that moment I hated him for his likeness to
his father who had wronged me. But I could not harm him. I went to
Taxton-on-Thames; I said nothing. I wrote on an envelope the address
of Sir Gregory, and gave it to my sister, so that she could write to
him for the photograph, on the back of which I had written. All this
took place before the murder.

“Then Gregory came to my hotel on the evening of the twenty-first of
June. I did not see him, but I saw Vaud, who entered afterwards,
disguised as a black man. I recognised him at once, and asked him why
he was dressed up like the servant of Binjoy. He said it was to play a
trick on the doctor, who was in the inner room waiting to see him. I
believed him, although I thought his behaviour strange. But I know
that he had not been quite right in his head since his illness, so
that I thought his dressing-up was a freak, and let him pass into the
inner room, where I presumed he was about to see Binjoy. I went back
to my own room, and never dreamt that the supposed doctor was my son
in disguise. Had I known I would not have left the half-crazed Vaud go
into him, knowing how he hated my son as the destroyer of Emma.

“I know nothing more. I saw Binjoy later on. I asked him if he had
seen Vaud; he said no, that he had just come to the hotel. I went into
the inner room and found my son dead. I did not know how he died till
Binjoy told me about the blood-poisoning. Then I sent for the police,
and Mr. Fanks arrived. I saw the grains of gunpowder. I thought they
were the evidence of some drug which had destroyed my son. I got rid
of them by pulling off the tablecloth. I did not tell the truth or
speak out, because I was afraid of being inculpated in the crime. My
character was so bad that I knew the police would have no mercy if
they thought I was mixed up in the murder. I did not want to disgrace
my sister, or let her know my real life, my feigned name. I afterwards
went down to Mere Hall and saw Binjoy. I said I would put the rightful
heir in his own place, and oust Louis. Binjoy said if I did he would
tell my story, and that with his evidence I would be accused of the
murder. I therefore held my tongue; I could not bring back my son to
life. He had treated me badly, and I did not want to get Vaud into
trouble, as I knew that he was mad with grief and rage, and was not
responsible for his actions. On the whole I thought it best to hold my
tongue, and for the above reasons I did so.

“I have now spoken because Edward Hersham, the rightful heir, is
accused of the crime. He has suffered enough injustice, and I do not
wish to see him hanged. Binjoy can tell his own story of how he came
to the hotel on that night and met with Mr. Fanks. Vaud can confess if
he will as to how he plotted and carried out the crime. For myself, I
have said all I have to say. What is set down here is the truth. I am
deeply sorry for my evil ways, but I am paying for my follies with my
life; all I ask for is forgiveness and forgetfulness. I have sinned, I
am punished. All good Christians pray for the soul of a wicked but
deeply wronged woman.

(Signed), Madaline Bryant (better known as Louisa Boazoph).”

The evidence of Theophilus Binjoy:–

“I am a medical man; and in my early manhood, I practised in the
village of Damington. I was present at the birth of Edward Fielding,
and of Gregory Fellenger. I know about the mark on the arm of the real
heir. Madaline changed the two children, and I said nothing as she
promised to marry me. I was madly in love with her. She left the
village, and deceived me. Afterwards I held my tongue lest I should
get into trouble; also I hoped when the false Sir Gregory grew up, to
have a hold on him. I was prevented from doing this by Madaline (whom
I had discovered in Tooley’s Alley, under the name of Mrs. Boazoph).
She threatened to reveal the name of the true heir if I meddled with
her son. I therefore did nothing. I saw the poisoned needle which
Louis had made ready for an experiment. It was in a cabinet in the
laboratory. Young Vaud came to Taxton-on-Thames nearly crazed with the
death of Emma Colmer, whom he had courted as Emma Calvert. She had
been driven to her death by her husband, the false Sir Gregory, and
had killed herself in Paris. Vaud asked me about poisons. He said
nothing to me about killing Sir Gregory, or I should have dissuaded
him from doing so wicked and rash an action.

“I swear I did not wish the death of the young man. What I said to him
in the laboratory, was purely without ulterior motives.

“I admit I showed him the poisoned needle. I was interested in the
experiment, and, being full of it, I spoke of our intention of trying
the poison on the dog. When Vaud left the laboratory, I did not miss
the needle; I did not miss it until Louis spoke to me about it. As
Turnor had lately been in the laboratory, and we had been speaking
about the experiment, I thought he had taken the needle. It never
struck me that Vaud had benefited by my explanation, and had stolen
the needle to kill Gregory. With Louis I went up to town on the
twenty-first of June, to see Turnor, and ask him for the needle; I had
no motive in taking Louis to Turnor’s. If Turnor attempted to
blackmail Louis, I knew nothing about it. I repel with scorn the
insinuation that I purposely inveigled Louis to Great Auk Street to
entangle him in the crime, and so blackmail him. I never heard of the
murder until I went to the Red Star, according to my usual custom of
an evening. Madaline asked me if I had seen Vaud, who was disguised as
a negro. I said I had not.

“We went into the room; and found the body of Sir Gregory; he was
disguised as a working-man; Vaud had disappeared. I ordered the body
to be taken upstairs, and made an examination. I then saw that Gregory
had been killed by being inoculated with the poison which Louis and I
had discovered. I recognised the cross of St. Catherine, half tattooed
on the arm; and I guessed from that how Vaud had induced Gregory to
let himself be pricked with the poisoned needle. I showed the mark to
Fanks when he came upstairs. But before doing so, I obliterated it
with a cut of the knife. I did this because I thought I might be
inculpated with the crime. I remember advising Hersham (who I did not
know was the real heir) to disguise himself as a negro so as to gain
realistic descriptions of street music. I did not do so with any
wrongful intention of connecting him with the murder. Madaline had
told me how Vaud was dressed as my negro servant; I saw that the death
had been brought about by the poisoned needle stolen from our
laboratory by Vaud; and with these two things in my head I recognised
my danger at once. I gave my feigned name to Fanks; I suggested that
the crime was the work of a secret society. Then I went back to
Turnor, and I was aware that I was being watched and could not return
to Taxton-on-Thames without being discovered.

“I consulted Turnor; he advised the voyage to Bombay, and said I ought
to send Caesar in my place, in order to get rid of him, since the
murderer of Gregory had been disguised in his livery; and also that
Caesar could send letters (already written by me) from India, in order
to keep up the deception, and baffle the police. I adopted the idea,
and, assisted by Dr. Turnor, I carried it out with great success. I
had an interview with Fanks in the character of Dr. Renshaw, and I
told him that I was going to Bombay. I then took a passage to India in
the P. and O. steamer ‘Oceana’; and wired to Caesar to meet me at
Plymouth.

“Thither I went and gave the letters (purporting to be written by
myself from Bombay) to Caesar and sent him off in my place.
Afterwards, I took off my disguise, and went back to Mere Hall. I had
no idea that I had been followed by Mr. Fanks, and thinking that I had
destroyed all links with the crime in Tooley’s Alley, likely to
endanger Louis and myself, I advised him to offer a reward so as to
still further avert suspicion.

“This he did, and I thought all was well, till Madaline came from Mere
Hall to warn me against Fanks, and to threaten to put the real Gregory
in the place of Louis. I stopped her doing this, and defied Fanks. How
he over-reached me; how I was betrayed by Louis, has been told by
others. I can swear with a clear conscience that I acted throughout in
the interests of Louis, who has treated me with the basest
ingratitude. I have no more to say, save to express my pleasure that
Mr. Hersham has recovered his real name in the world. I hope he will
remember that it was indirectly through me that he was re-instated in
his estates; by my confirming the statements of Madaline, and that of
the late Sir Francis, his father. I think that he should reward me. In
this hope I take my leave.

(Signed), Theophilus Binjoy.”

The evidence of Anne Colmer–

“I am the daughter of Mrs. Colmer, of Taxton-on-Thames, the sister of
Emma Colmer, who died in Paris under the name of Emma Calvert, and the
niece of Madaline Garry, better known as Mrs. Boazoph. I saw the
letter–or rather the envelope–which she directed for my mother, to
get back the photograph of my sister from Sir Gregory. It was taken
out of our house by Herbert Vaud, and I believe he sent it to Sir
Gregory with the cardboard star, making the appointment in Tooley’s
Alley. I had no idea that Vaud contemplated revenging the death of my
sister on Gregory. I knew that he hated him, and that he would do him
harm if he could, but I did not know that he would go so far as
murder.

“I wired to Ted Hersham on the twenty-first, as my mother told me that
she suspected that Vaud had taken the envelope, and that he
contemplated harm to Sir Gregory. I wanted Ted to get back the
envelope. Afterwards, I thought that I would see my aunt in Tooley’s
Alley, as I knew she had great influence with Vaud. I sent the
telegram, and immediately, without returning to the house, I went up
to town. I was detained by the train breaking down, and I did not
arrive in town till nearly seven o’clock. I went to the Red Star,
where I saw Mr. Fanks; and then heard of the crime. I fancied that
Vaud might have committed it, but I was not sure. I was afraid lest my
mother should be implicated in it; as she informed me that she had
told Vaud about the substitution of the false Sir Gregory, and about
the tattooed cross. This story had been related to her by Mrs.
Boazoph, when we learned that Sir Gregory had caused the death of his
wife, my sister.

“I determined to recover the envelope, in case my aunt should get into
trouble, and to obtain the photograph, lest the police should trace
the connection of the so-called Emma Calvert with myself and my
mother. I went up to the chambers in Half-Moon Street. There I saw Mr.
Fanks, and I recognised him as a detective. I had seen him and heard
his name when I had been at the Red Star, shortly after the committal
of the crime. I was afraid we would all get into trouble, therefore, I
took advantage of Robert’s faint to leave the room. I got into a cab,
and told the man that I was being followed by a gentleman. He assisted
me to escape by dropping me in Piccadilly, and afterwards–as I
learned–he misled Mr. Fanks, who followed me.

“I know nothing about the poisoned needle, or how the crime was
accomplished. I heard afterwards about the tattooed cross from my
mother. It was with no intention of getting Ted into trouble that I
told him to assume the dress of Caesar. When the detective suspected
it, I advised him to make a clean breast of it, which he afterwards
did. I did not tell Mr. Fanks what I knew, as I was afraid of getting
my mother and aunt into difficulties. All this is true, I swear, and I
know no more about the matter.

(Signed), Anne Colmer.”

The evidence of Mrs. Colmer:–

“I told Vaud about the substitution of Gregory for Edward Hersham. My
sister, Mrs. Bryant, had confessed it to me. I was mad with rage and
grief at the way in which my girl had been treated by Gregory, and I
thought Vaud might see about getting him turned out of the place he
wrongfully occupied, and so punish his wickedness. I had no idea that
Vaud intended to kill Sir Gregory. Bad as he was, I did not wish to go
that far. I only wanted him to be deprived of his estates and title,
so that he should suffer. I gave the envelope, which had been written
by my sister, Mrs. Bryant, with the address in Half-Moon Street, so
that Vaud should call on Sir Gregory, and tell him the truth, and
should get back the photograph of my poor girl.

“I knew nothing of the murder, which took place in a low hotel in
Tooley’s Alley, and which was kept by a notorious woman called Mrs.
Boazoph. I also told Vaud that Ted Hersham was writing articles on
street music, and that, to study the subject, he was going about
London in the guise of a negro. I only told him this in the course of
conversation, and without any motive. This is all I know about the
affair.

(Signed), Jane Colmer.”

The evidence of Dr. Turnor:–

“I did not take the poisoned needle. I knew nothing of such an
instrument. Louis and Binjoy came up to me on the twenty-first to ask
me about it. I denied having it, but Louis did not believe me. When I
was called in by Mrs. Boazoph he would not let me go out of the room.
Binjoy went under the name of Renshaw. He used that name and a
disguise in order to enjoy himself in London. After he left, Louis,
finding, that I had not the needle, returned to Taxton-on-Thames.
Binjoy came back; he told me that Gregory Fellenger was dead, and that
he was being watched. I saw his danger, and advised him to keep up his
fictitious character so as to deceive the police. I suggested the
voyage to India; I helped to carry out the plan.

“He got away to Mere Hall safely, as we thought. When Fanks asked me
questions, I did my best to baffle him for the sake of Binjoy. I had
no other motive. I was ignorant of the tattooed cross, of the changing
of the children. I saw Sir Louis when he succeeded to the estates by
the death of his cousin. I did not blackmail him. The sum of money he
gave me was a reward for my helping Binjoy to escape. I know nothing
of the murder save what I read in the newspaper. I consider that I
have been ungratefully treated by Mr. Louis Fellenger, and most
insolently by the man who calls himself Fanks. I have nothing more to
add.

(Signed), Walter Turnor.”

The confession of Herbert Vaud:–

“I killed Gregory Fellenger. I am glad that I killed him. When I found
out in Paris how he had deceived and slain the woman I loved, I
determined to make him pay for his wickedness. ‘An eye for an eye,’
that is Scripture. I wished to kill Gregory without harm to myself;
and an opportunity soon occurred. I was at Mrs. Colmer’s, at
Taxton-on-Thames, commiserating, with her on the death of her daughter
and my affianced wife. I did not tell her I wished to kill the
scoundrel; I told nobody. She related to me the history of the
changing of the children, which had been told to her by her sister,
Mrs. Bryant, whom I knew as Mrs. Boazoph. She wanted to avenge the
death of her daughter on Gregory by depriving him of his title and
estates. Also, she gave me the address of Gregory, written on an
envelope by Mrs. Boazoph, and asked me to call upon him for the double
purpose of telling him what he really was, and also, to get the
photograph which had been seen and written upon by Mrs. Boazoph, in
Gregory’s chambers.

“I took the envelope, but at that time I did not design the murder. I
wanted to kill Gregory, but I could not see how to do it with safety
to myself. I afterwards went to Mrs. Boazoph, and learned from her
that she had told her son about the tattooing, and the falseness of
his position. She implored me not to see him about his relationship to
her. I agreed; for I wished to kill him, and make him suffer. The
taking away of his property was not good enough in my eyes to punish
him for his wickedness.

“Afterwards I went to Taxton-on-Thames to see Binjoy. I knew that he
was a chemist, and I desired to ask him about a poison to kill
Gregory. He told me about the poisoned needle, and showed it to me.
Whether he did so in order to put the idea into my head I do not know.
I did not tell him that I intended to kill Gregory; so far he is
guiltless; but he certainly showed me the way–innocently, perhaps–to
kill Gregory. When I came back from Taxton-on-Thames I had the
poisoned needle in my possession, and saw how to carry out my plan. I
remembered the tattooed cross on the arm of the rightful heir, and I
resolved to make use of that to induce Gregory to let me tattoo his
arm with the poisoned needle.

“I placed the advertisement in a paper, which I knew he took in. I saw
his answer, and I then sent him the cardboard star appointing the
meeting-place in Tooley’s Alley. I imitated the writing on the
envelope when designing a star, so that, if necessary, the blame might
rest on Mrs. Boazoph, his mother. For the same reason I chose the Red
Star as the meeting-place. To make things doubly sure, I made use of
Hersham’s masquerade as a negro; and I adopted his disguise to
implicate him. Moreover, I thought that, failing Hersham, I might be
able to throw the blame on Binjoy and his negro servant. In every way
I thought that I was safe.

“I went to the Red Star on the twenty-first; I met Mrs. Boazoph, and
made an excuse to her for my disguise (which she penetrated) that I
was about to play a trick on Binjoy. She thought that I was mad, and I
let her remain in that delusion. But I here state that I am quite
sane; that I killed Gregory with the greatest deliberation, and that I
do not regret what I have done. I went into the room; I met Gregory.
He took me for the negro of Dr. Binjoy, whom he had never seen. The
lights were low, and I said little; also I disguised my voice. Gregory
was a remarkably stupid creature, else I should never have succeeded
in my plan; also he was rather drunk. I counted on his density in
coming into his presence. At all events he did not know me; and when I
told him that the rightful heir must have the cross pricked on his
arm–a fact which I said I had heard from Binjoy–he let me tattoo it
in his arm. I did so with the poisoned needle, and in a short space of
time he became insensible; afterwards he died. Then I pulled down his
sleeve and left the hotel. The gunpowder scattered on the table was
used by me as a device to make Gregory think that I was really
tattooing him.

“Afterwards I left a parcel containing the poisoned needle at his
chambers, to rid myself of all evidence of the crime. Well, I killed
him and went away. No one else is guilty of the crime but me. I
conceived it without assistance. I alone committed the crime in
Tooley’s Alley and killed Gregory Fellenger, or, rather, Edward
Fielding, the son of Madaline Garry and Sir Francis. I am not sorry. I
glory in having punished a villain. I am sorry that I was found out,
but I was not surprised when Mrs. Boazoph betrayed me. I wondered that
she did not do so long ago. When this is read I shall be dead.

(Signed), Herbert Vaud.”

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