"When the advertisement came out, it was I who hinted to Lydia that the dead man—seeing that he was called Berwin—might be her husband.
We went up to town: Lydia identified the body of Clear as her husband in all innocence—for after death the man looked more like Vrain than ever; and in due time the assurance money was obtained.
"I do not think there is anything more to tell, save that I did not know that Mrs. Clear had betrayed me.
I could not pay her the money, as I could not get it from Lydia.
I told Lydia I was going to Paris, but in reality I was hunting for Rhoda, who had run away from Jersey Street.
I fancied she might betray us, and wished to make things safe with her.
Before I found her, however, I saw in the papers that Ferruci had committed suicide; also that Lydia—who had gone to Dover to meet me, thinking I was returning from Paris—had been arrested.
Then I saw Mrs. Clear's advertisement saying she would betray me if I did not pay the money.
I consented to meet her in order to implore her silence, and so fell into the clutches of the law.
"I may state that I did not kill Clear, as I never saw him after nine o'clock, and then he was alive.
In spite of what the doctor said, I am still inclined to think he killed himself.
Now I have made a clean breast of it—I am willing to be punished; but I hope Lydia will be set free, for whosoever is guilty, she is innocent.
I have been an unlucky man, and I remain one at this moment when I sign myself for the last time, Jabez Clyne."
Needless to say, both Link and Denzil were greatly surprised at this confession, which revealed all things save the one they wished to know.
"What do you think of this idea of suicide?" asked Lucian.
"It is quite out of the question," replied the detective decidedly. "The doctor who examined the body said that it was impossible the man could have committed suicide.
The position of the wound shows that; also the power of the stroke.
No man could drive a stiletto so dexterously and strongly into the heart.
Also the room was in confusion, which points to a struggle, and the stiletto is missing.
It was not suicide, but murder, and I believe either Clyne or Ferruci killed the man."
"But Ferruci was not——"
"He was not there after ten," interrupted Link, "but he was there about eight.
I dare say when Rhoda saw him he was coming back after having committed the deed, and Clyne says the stiletto was not there at the time just to screen him."
"It is of little use to screen the dead," said Lucian. "I think only one person can tell the truth about this murder, and that is Rhoda."
"I'm looking for her, Mr. Denzil."
This was easy saying, but harder doing, for weeks passed away, and in spite of all the efforts of the police Rhoda could not be found.
Then one morning the detective, much excited, burst into Lucian's rooms waving a paper over his head.
"A confession!" he cried. "Another confession!"
"Of whom?" asked Lucian, surprised.
"Of Rhoda!" replied Link excitedly. "She has confessed!
It was Rhoda who killed Michael Clear!"
CHAPTER XXXIII WHAT RHODA HAD TO SAY
Of all the news concerning the truth of Clear's death, this was the last which Lucian expected to hear.
He stood staring at the excited face of the detective in wide-eyed surprise, and for the moment could not find his voice.
"It is true, I tell you!" cried Link, sitting down and smoothing out the paper which he carried. "Rhoda, and none other, killed the man!"
"Are you sure, Link?"
"Of course I am.
This," flourishing the paper, "is her dying confession."
"Her dying confession?" repeated the barrister blankly. "Is she dead, also?"
"Yes.
It is a long story, Mr. Denzil.
Sit down, and I'll tell it to you.
As you have had so much to do with the beginning of the case, it is only fair that you should know the end, and a strange end it is."
Without a word Lucian sat down, feeling quite confused, for in no way could he guess how Clear had come by his death at the hands of Rhoda.
He had suspected Lydia as guilty of the crime; he had credited Ferruci with its commission, and he had been certain of the guilt of Clyne, alias Wrent; but to discover that the red-headed servant was the culprit entirely bewildered him.
She had no motive to kill the man; she had given evidence freely in the matter, and in all respects had acted as an innocent person.
So this was why she had left Jersey Street?
It was a fear of being arrested for the crime which had driven her into the wilds.
But, as Lucian privately thought, she need not have fled, for—so far as he could see—beyond the startling announcement of Link, there was no evidence to connect her with the matter.
It was most extraordinary.