The Cotton Factory Times. — 1889-05-17 (Manchester, Greater Manchester, England)

CHAPTER XLVIII. "WEIXTHCI THE WEB ROUND THE MURDERER.  Bert Stanfield was so utterly dumbfounded at his totally unexpected arrest that he conld not speak. And when he had had time to think he resolved to say nothing. Had the Inspector been alone, Bert would probably have resisted his arrest, but the eight of the two constables convinced him that any attempt in that direction would be madness.  His coolness convinced the Inspector, if any other proof beside the possession of Mark's clothing, the disguise he had assumed, and the motive he had for committing the crime were wanting, that Bert was guilty. He quietly submitted to be handcuffed, and in a few minutes was locked in a cell at the police station. The Inspector had determined to return to the house, and search it thoroughly. The police antho. rities had not the slightest suspicion that the house was tenanted, and the finding of Bert there led the officer to think there might be other discoveries in Store for him.  ...--- --Still accompanied by the two constables, but not by Archie and Jamie, he returned to Major Weir's house, and a long search was made before he found out any of the secrets of the place. But after a study of the rooms and passages he came to the conclusion that there must be a closet or recess behind the bookcase in the library, and, after considerable trouble, he found the secret spring. When the bookcase revolved aside, the Inspector recoiled with astonishment, for the body of Dick Thornton, standing upright, was in the recess. As he noticed the livid mark round the neck of the dead man he exclaimed— "There's been another murder here!" He was stimulated to make a further search, and at length detected the hollow sound of the flooring over the trap door. The bookcase secret had been of some service, and he soon found the spring that opened the trap. The effluvia stopped him from snaking any close examination of the pit, but he guessed that another terrible secret was at the bottom. Coming to the wainscot that divided the house from the thieves' rendezvous, he could not find the spring, but, leaving one of his men in charge of the house, he and the other constable went round, and got in the other way. The place was empty, but had all the appearance of having been evacuated very recently. He had discovered enough to render it expedient that a well-known detective of the time, named Findlay, should take charge of the whole case. When Findlay had been put in possession of all the facts he suspected that the accused's wife knew something of the murder, and early in the afternoon Helen received a visit from the aetective. She had hourly been expecting to bear of Bert's arrest, for she knew intuitively that he was the murderer of his cousin. And now when a stranger, who would not give his name, requested an interview, she was in some degree prepared for the tidings he had to convey. "You are Mrs. Stansfield Do you know where your husband is ?" "My name is Falconer. Albert Stanfield was already married when he went through the form of marriage with me," she said coldly. "When did you see him last 2" "I don't know what right you have to question me. Who are you ?" "I am a detective; my name is Findlay.", .