Dead Men's Money Page 8

  CHAPTER VIII

  THE PARISH REGISTERS

  I had noticed the Reverend Mr. Ridley sitting in the room with some othergentlemen of the neighbourhood, and had wondered what had brought him, aclergyman, there. I knew him well enough by sight. He was a vicar of alonely parish away up in the hills--a tall, thin, student-looking manthat you might occasionally see in the Berwick streets, walking very fastwith his eyes on the ground, as if, as the youngsters say, he was seekingsixpences; and I should not have thought him likely to be attracted to anaffair of that sort by mere curiosity. And, whatever he might be in hispulpit, he looked very nervous and shy as he stood up between the coronerand the jury to give his evidence.

  "Whatever are we going to hear now?" whispered Mr. Lindsey in my ear."Didn't I tell you there'd be revelations about Gilverthwaite, Hugh, mylad? Well, there's something coming out! But what can this parson know?"

  As it soon appeared, Mr. Ridley knew a good deal. After a bit ofpreliminary questioning, making things right in the proper legal fashionas to who he was, and so on, the coroner put a plain inquiry to him. "Mr.Ridley, you have had some recent dealings with this man JamesGilverthwaite, who has just been mentioned in connection with thisinquiry?" he asked.

  "Some dealings recently--yes," answered the clergyman.

  "Just tell us, in your own way, what they were," said the coroner. "And,of course, when they took place."

  "Gilverthwaite," said Mr. Ridley, "came to me, at my vicarage, about amonth or five weeks ago. I had previously seen him about the church andchurchyard. He told me he was interested in parish registers, and inantiquities generally, and asked if he could see our registers, offeringto pay whatever fee was charged. I allowed him to look at the registers,but I soon discovered that his interest was confined to a particularperiod. The fact was, he wished to examine the various entries madebetween 1870 and 1880. That became very plain; but as he did not expresshis wish in so many words, I humoured him. Still, as I was with himduring the whole of the time he was looking at the books, I saw what itwas that he examined."

  Here Mr. Ridley paused, glancing at the coroner.

  "That is really about all that I can tell," he said. "He only came to meon that one occasion."

  "Perhaps I can get a little more out of you, Mr. Ridley," remarked thecoroner with a smile. "A question or two, now. What particular registersdid this man examine? Births, deaths, marriages--which?"

  "All three, between the dates I have mentioned--1870 to 1880," repliedMr. Ridley.

  "Did you think that he was searching for some particular entry?"

  "I certainly did think so."

  "Did he seem to find it?" asked the coroner, with a shrewd glance.

  "If he did find such an entry," replied Mr. Ridley slowly, "he gave nosign of it; he did not copy or make a note of it, and he did not ask anycopy of it from me. My impression--whatever it is worth--is that he didnot find what he wanted in our registers. I am all the more convinced ofthat because--"

  Here Mr. Ridley paused, as if uncertain whether to proceed or not; but atan encouraging nod from the coroner he went on.

  "I was merely going to say--and I don't suppose it is evidence--" headded, "that I understand this man visited several of my brotherclergymen in the neighbourhood on the same errand. It was talked of atthe last meeting of our rural deanery."

  "Ah!" remarked the coroner significantly. "He appears, then, to have beengoing round examining the parish registers--we must get more evidence ofthat later, for I'm convinced it has a bearing on the subject of thispresent inquiry. But a question or two more, Mr. Ridley. There arestipulated fees for searching the registers, I believe. Did Gilverthwaitepay them in your case?"

  Mr. Ridley smiled.

  "He not only paid the fees," he answered, "but he forced me to acceptsomething for the poor box. He struck me as being a man who was inclinedto be free with his money."

  The coroner looked at the solicitor who was representing the police.

  "I don't know if you want to ask this witness any questions?" heinquired.

  "Yes," said the solicitor. He turned to Mr. Ridley. "You heard what thewitness Hugh Moneylaws said?--that Gilverthwaite mentioned on his comingto Berwick that he had kinsfolk buried in the neighbourhood? You did?Well, Mr. Ridley, do you know if there are people of that name buried inyour churchyard?"

  "There are not," replied Mr. Ridley promptly. "What is more, the nameGilverthwaite does not occur in our parish registers. I have a completeindex of the registers from 1580, when they began to be kept, and thereis no such name in it. I can also tell you this," he added, "I am, Ithink I may say, something of an authority on the parish registers ofthis district--I have prepared and edited several of them forpublication, and I am familiar with most of them. I do not think thatname, Gilverthwaite, occurs in any of them."

  "What do you deduce from that, now?" asked the solicitor.

  "That whatever it was that the man was searching for--and I am sure hewas searching--it was not for particulars of his father's family,"answered Mr. Ridley. "That is, of course, if his name really was what hegave it out to be--Gilverthwaite."

  "Precisely!" said the coroner. "It may have been an assumed name."

  "The man may have been searching for particulars of his mother's family,"remarked the solicitor.

  "That line of thought would carry us too far afield just now," said thecoroner. He turned to the jury. "I've allowed this evidence about the manGilverthwaite, gentlemen," he said, "because it's very evident thatGilverthwaite came to this neighbourhood for some special purpose andwanted to get some particular information; and it's more than probablethat the man into the circumstances of whose death we're inquiring wasconcerned with him in his purpose. But we cannot go any further today,"he concluded, "and I shall adjourn the inquiry for a fortnight, when, nodoubt, there'll be more evidence to put before you."

  I think that the folk who had crowded into that room, all agog to hearwhatever could be told, went out of it more puzzled than when they camein. They split up into groups outside the inn, and began to discussmatters amongst themselves. And presently two sharp-looking youngfellows, whom I had seen taking notes at the end of the big tablewhereat the coroner and the officials sat, came up to me, and telling methat they were reporters, specially sent over, one from Edinburgh, theother from Newcastle, begged me to give them a faithful and detailedaccount of my doings and experiences on the night of the murder--therewas already vast interest in this affair all over the country, theyaffirmed, and whatever I could or would tell them would make splendidreading and be printed in big type in their journals. But Mr. Lindsey,who was close by, seized my arm and steered me away from thesepersistent seekers after copy.

  "Not just now, my lads!" said he good-humouredly. "You've got plentyenough to go on with--you've heard plenty in there this morning to keepyour readers going for a bit. Not a word, Hugh! And as for you,gentlemen, if you want to do something towards clearing up this mystery,and assisting justice, there's something you can do--and nobody can doit better."

  "What's that?" asked one of them eagerly.

  "Ask through your columns for the relations, friends, acquaintances,anybody who knows them or aught about them, of these two men, JamesGilverthwaite and John Phillips," replied Mr. Lindsey. "Noise it abroadas much as you like and can! If they've folk belonging to them, let themcome forward. For," he went on, giving them a knowing look, "there's abigger mystery in this affair than any one of us has any conception of,and the more we can find out the sooner it'll be solved. And I'll saythis to you young fellows: the press can do more than the police. There'sa hint for you!"

  Then he led me off, and we got into the trap in which he and I had drivenout from Berwick, and as soon as we had started homeward he fell into abrown study and continued in it until we were in sight of the town.

  "Hugh, my lad!" he suddenly exclaimed, at last starting out of hisreverie. "I'd give a good deal if I could see daylight in this affair!I've had two-and-twenty years' experience of
the law, and I've known somequeer matters, and some dark matters, and some ugly matters in my time;but hang me if I ever knew one that promises to be as ugly and as darkand as queer as this does--that's a fact!"

  "You're thinking it's all that, Mr. Lindsey?" I asked, knowing him as Idid to be an uncommonly sharp man.

  "I'm thinking there's more than meets the eye," he answered. "Bloodymurder we know there is--maybe there'll be more, or maybe there has beenmore already. What was that deep old fish Gilverthwaite after? What tookplace between Phillips's walking out of that inn at Coldstream Bridge andyour finding of his body? Who met Phillips? Who did him to his death? Andwhat were the two of 'em after in this corner of the country? Blackmystery, my lad, on all hands!"

  I made no answer just then. I was thinking, wondering if I should tellhim about my meeting with Sir Gilbert Carstairs at the cross-roads. Mr.Lindsey was just the man you could and would tell anything to, and itwould maybe have been best if I had told him of that matter there andthen. But there's a curious run of caution and reserve in our family. Igot it from both father and mother, and deepened it on my own account,and I could not bring myself to be incriminating and suspicioning a manwhose presence so near the place of the murder might be innocent enough.So I held my tongue.

  "I wonder will all the stuff in the newspapers bring any one forward?" hesaid, presently. "It ought to!--if there is anybody."

  Nothing, however, was heard by the police or by ourselves for the nextthree or four days; and then--I think it was the fourth day after theinquest--I looked up from my desk in Mr. Lindsey's outer office oneafternoon to see Maisie Dunlop coming in at the door, followed by anelderly woman, poorly but respectably dressed, a stranger.

  "Hugh," said Maisie, coming up to my side, "your mother asked me to bringthis woman up to see Mr. Lindsey. She's just come in from the south, andshe says she's yon James Gilverthwaite's sister."