“I daresay; but I wished, as I told you, to make certain that the mummy was on board.
That was the real reason for my visit; but, being in Bolton’s company, I naturally told him that Don Pedro claimed the mummy as his property, and warned him that if you or he kept the same, that there would be trouble.”
“Did you use threats?” asked Hope, remembering what he had overheard.
“No; certainly not.”
“Yes, you did,” cried Braddock quickly. “Hervey declares that you told Bolton that he would repent of keeping the mummy, and that his life would not be safe while he held it.”
To the surprise of both visitors, Random admitted using these serious threats without a moment’s hesitation.
“Don Pedro told me that many Indians, both in Lima and Cuzco, who look upon him as the lawful descendant of the last Inca, are anxiously expecting the return of the royal mummy.
He also stated that when the Indians knew who held the mummy they would send one of themselves to get it back, if he—Don Pedro, that is—did not fetch it.
To get back the mummy Don Pedro declared that these Indians would not stop short of murder.
Hence my warning to Bolton.”
“Oh!” Archie jumped up with widely opened eyes. “Then perhaps this solves the problem.
Bolton was murdered by some Peruvian Indian.”
Random shook his head gravely.
“Again you offer me a loophole of escape, my dear fellow,” he said sententiously, “but that theory will not hold water.
At present the Indians in Lima and Cuzco do not know that the mummy has been found.
Don Pedro only chanced upon the paper which announced the sale by accident and had no time to communicate with his barbaric friends in South America.
Failing to get the mummy from you, Professor, he would have returned to Peru and then would have told who possessed the corpse of Inca Caxas, leaving the Indians to deal with the matter. In that case my warning to Bolton would be necessary. But at the time I told him, it was not necessary. However, Bolton remained true to you, Professor, and declined to surrender the mummy.
I therefore wired to Don Pedro at Genoa that the mummy was on board The Diver and was being sent to Gartley.
I also advised him to come to me here in order to be introduced to you.
The rest you know.”
There was a moment’s silence.
Then Archie, to test if Random was willing to admit everything—as an innocent man certainly would—asked significantly,
“Did you see Bolton again after your interview on board ship?”
It was then that the baronet proved his good faith.
“Oh, yes,” he said easily and without hesitation. “I was walking about Pierside later, and, passing along that waterside alley near the Sailor’s Rest, I saw a window on the ground floor open, and Bolton looking out across the river.
I stopped and asked him when he proposed to take the mummy to Gartley, and if it was on shore.
He admitted that it was in the hotel, but declined to say when he would send it on to you, Professor. When he closed the window, I afterwards went into the hotel and had a drink in order to ask casually when Mr. Bolton intended to leave.
I gathered—not directly, of course, but in a roundabout way—that he had arranged to go next morning and to send on his luggage.
Then I left and went to London.
In the course of time I returned here and learned of the murder and the disappearance of the corpse of Inca Caxas.
And now,” Random stood up, “having admitted all this, perhaps you will believe me to be innocent.”
“You have no idea who murdered Bolton and placed his body in the packing case?” asked Braddock, manifestly disappointed.
“‘No.
No more than I have any idea of the person who placed the mummy case and its contents in Mrs. Jasher’s garden.”
“Oh, you know that!” said Archie quickly.
“Yes.
The news was all over the village this morning.
I could hardly help knowing it.
And I believe that the mummy has been taken to your house, Professor.”
“It has,” admitted Braddock dryly. “I took it myself from Mrs. Jasher’s arbor in a hand-cart, with the assistance of Cockatoo.
But when I made an examination this morning in the presence of Hope and Don Pedro, I found that the swathings of the body had been ripped up, and that the emeralds mentioned in that manuscript had been stolen.”
“Strange!” said Random with a frown; “and by whom?”
“No doubt by the assassin of Sidney Bolton.”
“Probably.” Random kicked a mat straight with his foot. “At any rate the theft of the emeralds shows that it was not any Indian who killed Bolton.
None of them would rifle so sacred a corpse.”
“Besides which—as you say—the Indians in Peru do not know that the mummy has reappeared after thirty years’ seclusion,” chimed in Hope, rising. “Well, and what is to be done now?”
For answer Sir Frank picked up the manuscript which still remained on the table.
“I shall see Don Pedro about this,” he said quietly, “and ascertain if it is the original or a copy.”
Braddock rose slowly and stared at the paper.
“Do you know Latin?” he asked.