The Mystery Queen | Page 8

this examined under a more
powerful glass. You are all witnesses, gentlemen, that a fly was found
near the wound which caused Sir Charles Moon's death."
"And the scent? What about the scent?" Dan sniffed as he spoke and
then bent his nose to the dead man. "It seems to come from the
clothes."
"Scent!" echoed Durwin sharply, and sniffed. "Yes, I observed that
scent. But I did not take any notice of it."
"Nor did I," said the doctor. "I noticed it also."

"And I," followed on the Inspector, "and why should we take notice of
it, Mr. Halliday? Many men use scent."
"Sir Charles never did," said Dan emphatically; "he hated scents of all
kinds even when women used them. He certainly would never have
used them himself. I'll swear to that."
"Then this scent assumes importance." Durwin sniffed again, and held
his aquiline nose high. "It is fainter now. But I smelt it very strongly
when I first came in and looked at the body. A strange perfume it is."
The three men tried to realise the peculiar odour of the scent, and
became aware that it was rich and heavy and sickly, and somewhat
drowsy in its suggestion.
"A kind of thing to render a man sleepy," said Dan, musingly.
"Or insensible," said Inspector Tenson hastily, and put his nose to the
dead man's chin and mouth. He shook his head as he straightened
himself. "I fancied from your observation, Mr. Halliday, that the scent
might have been used as a kind of chloroform, but there's no smell
about the face. It comes from the clothes," he sniffed again; "yes, it
certainly comes from the clothes. Did you smell this scent on Mrs.
Brown?" he demanded, suddenly.
"No, I did not," admitted Halliday promptly, "otherwise I should
certainly have noted it. I have a keen sense of smell. Mrs. Bolstreath
and Lil--I mean Miss Moon--might have noticed it, however."
At that moment, as if in answer to her name, the door opened suddenly
and Lillian brushed past the policeman in a headlong entrance into the
library. Her fair hair was in disorder, her face was bloodless, and her
eyes were staring and wild. Behind her came Mrs. Bolstreath hurriedly,
evidently trying to restrain her. But the girl would not be restrained,
and rushed forward scattering the small group round the dead, to fling
herself on the body.
"Oh, Father, Father!" she sobbed, burying her face on the shoulder of

her dearly-loved parent. "How awful it is. Oh, my heart will break.
How shall I ever get over it. Father! Father! Father!"
She wept and wailed so violently that the four men were touched by her
great grief. Both Mr. Durwin and Inspector Tenson had daughters of
their own, while the young doctor was engaged. They could feel for her
thoroughly, and no one made any attempt to remove her from the body
until Mrs. Bolstreath stepped forward. "Lillian, darling. Lillian, my
child," she said soothingly, and tried to lead the poor girl away.
But Lillian only clung closer to her beloved dead. "No! No! Let me
alone. I can't leave him. Poor, dear Father--oh, I shall die!"
"Dear," said Mrs. Bolstreath, raising her firmly but kindly, "your father
is not there, but in heaven! Only the clay remains."
"It is all I have. And Father was so good, so kind--oh, who can have
killed him in this cruel way?" She looked round with streaming eyes.
"We think that a Mrs. Brown--" began the Inspector, only to be
answered by a loud cry from the distraught girl.
"Mrs. Brown! Then I have killed Father! I have killed him! I persuaded
him to see the woman, because she was in trouble. And she killed
him--oh, the wretch--the--the--oh--oh! What had I done to her that she
should rob me of my dear, kind father?" and she cried bitterly in her old
friend's tender arms.
"Had you ever seen Mrs. Brown before?" asked Durwin in his
imperious voice, although he lowered it in deference to her grief.
Lillian winced at the harsh sound. "No, no! I never saw her before.
How could I have seen her before? She said that her son had been
drowned, and that she was poor. I asked Father to help her, and he told
me he would. It's my fault that she saw my father and now"--her voice
leaped an octave--"he's dead. Oh--oh! my father--my father!" and she
tried to break from Mrs. Bolstreath's arms to fling herself on the dead
once more.

"Lillian darling, don't cry," said Dan, placing his hand on her shoulder.
"You have not lost the dearest and best of fathers!" she sobbed
violently.
"Your loss is my loss," said Halliday in a voice of pain, "but we must
be brave, both you and