Books: Number Seventeen
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Louis Tracy >> Number Seventeen
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It was not for him to assess the significance of Mr. Forbes's desire
to remain in the background. If the millionaire's excuse, or
explanation, of his failure to communicate at once with the Criminal
Investigation Department was a sufficiently valid one, Scotland Yard
would be satisfied and might agree to keep his name out of the
inquiry.
On the other hand, he, Theydon, might be balking the course of justice
by holding his tongue. There was yet a third possibility, one fraught
with personal discredit. Mr. Forbes himself might realize that a
policy of candor offered the only dignified course.
Suppose he was minded to tell the detectives that he was the man who
visited Mrs. Lester shortly before midnight, what would Winter and
Furneaux think of the young gentleman who had actually dined with
Forbes before they took him into their confidence-- who heard with
such righteous indignation how Mrs. Lester met her death-- yet
brazenly concealed the fact that he had just left the house of one
whom they were so anxious to meet and question?
Of course, the radiant vision of Evelyn Forbes intruded on this
well-considered and unemotional analysis; but Theydon resolutely shook
his head.
"No, by Jove!" he communed. "You mustn't make an ass of yourself, my
boy, because a pretty girl was gracious for an hour or so. Be honest
with yourself, old chap! If there were no Evelyn, or if Evelyn were
harelipped and squinted, you wouldn't hesitate a second-- now, would
you?"
Yet he had given a promise. How reconcile an immediate call on
Scotland Yard with the guarantee of secrecy demanded by Forbes? Well,
he must put himself right with Forbes without delay-- tell him
straightforwardly that the bond could not hold. Theydon was no lawyer,
but he was assured that an agreement founded on positive wrong was not
tenable, legally or morally.
He would be adamant with Forbes, and decline to countenance any plea
in support of continued silence. If Forbes's demand was reasonable,
Scotland Yard would grant it. If justice compelled Forbes to come out
into the open, no private citizen should attempt to defeat the ends of
justice.
"So that settles it," announced Theydon rmly if not cheerfully. "I'll
ring up Forbes, and get the thing over and done with. I'll never see
his daughter again, I suppose, but that can't be helped. 'tis better
to have seen and lost than never to have seen at all."
He turned from the window, walked to the fireplace, tapped his pipe
firmly on the grate, and was about to go into the hall and call up the
telephone exchange, when the door-bell rang. He was aware of a muffled
conversation between Bates and a visitor. Then the valet appeared,
obviously ill at ease.
"If you please, sir," he announced, "a lady, a Miss Beale, of Oxford,
who says she is Mrs. Lester's aunt, wishes to see you."
Theydon was immensely surprised, as well he might be. But there was
only one thing to be done.
"Show her in," he said.
Miss Beale entered. She was slight of figure, middle-aged and
gray-haired. The wanness of her thin features was accentuated by an
attire of deep mourning, but the pallor in her cheeks fled for an
instant when she set eyes on Theydon.
"Pray forgive the intrusion," she faltered. "I-- I expected to meet an
older man."
It was a curious utterance, and Theydon tried to relieve her evident
nervousness by being mildly humorous.
"I hope to correct my juvenile appearance in course of time," he said,
smiling. "Meanwhile, won't you be seated? You are not quite unknown to
me, Miss Beale. That is-- I heard of you last night from the Scotland
Yard people."
She sat down at once, but seemed to be at a loss for words. Her lips
trembled, and Theydon thought she was going to cry.
"Have you traveled from Oxford this morning?" he said, simulating a
courteous nonchalance he was far from feeling. "If so, you must have
started from home at an ungodly hour. Let me have some breakfast
prepared for you."
"No-- no," she stammered.
"Well, a cup of tea, then? Come, now, no woman ever refuses a cup of
tea."
"You are very kind."
He rang the bell.
"I would not have ventured to call on you if I had not seen your name
in the newspaper," she went on.
Miss Beale certainly had the knack of saying unexpected things. It was
nothing new that Theydon should find his own name in print, but on
this occasion he could not choose but associate the distinction with
the cringe in No. 17; that he should be mentioned in connection with
it was neither anticipated nor pleasing. At the same time he realized
the astounding fact that he had not even glanced at a newspaper during
twenty-four hours.
"What in the world have the newspapers to say about me?" he cried.
"It-- it said-- that Mr. Francis Berrold Theydon, the well-known
author, lived in No. 18, the flat exactly opposite that which my
unhappy niece occupied. I-- I have read some of your books, Mr.
Theydon, and I pictured you quite a serious-looking person of my own
age."
He laughed. Bates entered, and was almost shocked at finding his
master in such lively mood.
"Oh, this lady has traveled from Oxford this morning; a cup of tea and
some nice toast, please, Bates," said Theydon. Then when the two were
alone together again, he brushed aside the question of his age as
irrelevant.
"I assure you that since this time yesterday I have lost some of the
careless buoyancy of youth," he said. "I had not the honor of Mrs.
Lester's acquaintance, but I knew her well by sight, and I received
the shock of my life last evening when I heard of her terrible end. It
is an extraordinary thing, seeing that we were such close neighbors,
but I believe you got the news long before I did, because I left home
early and heard nothing of what had happened till my man met me at
Waterloo in the evening."
"You have seen the-- the detectives in the meantime?"
"Yes."
"Then you will be able to tell me something definite. I have promised
to call at Scotland Yard at eleven o'clock, and the only scraps of
intelligence I have gathered are those in the papers. I would have
come to London last night, but was afraid to travel, lest I should
faint in the train. Moreover, some one in London promised to send a
detective to see me. He came, but could give no information. Indeed,
he wanted to learn certain things from me. So, after a weary night, I
caught the first train, and it occurred to me, as you lived so near,
that you might be kind enough to-- to--"
The long speech was too much for her, and her lips quivered pitifully
a second time.
"I fully understand," said Theydon sympathetically. "Now, I'm positive
you have eaten hardly anything today. Won't you let me order an egg?"
"No, please. I'll be glad of the tea, but I cannot make a meal-- yet.
Is it true that my niece was absolutely alone in her flat on Monday
night?"
Seeing that Miss Beale was consumed with anxiety to hear an
intelligible version of the tragedy, Theydon at once recited all, or
nearly all, that was known to him. The only points he suppressed were
those with reference to the gray car and the ivory skull. The lady
listened attentively and with more self-control than he gave her
credit for.
Bates came in with a laden tray, on which a boiled egg appeared. Mrs.
Bates had used her discretion, and decided that any one who had set
out from Oxford so early in the day must be in need of more solid
refreshment than tea and toast. Thus cozened, as it were, into eating,
Miss Beale tackled the egg, and Theydon was glad to note that she made
a fairly good meal, being probably unaware of her hunger until the
means of sating it presented itself.
But she missed no word of his story, and when he made an end, put some
shrewd questions.
"I take it," she said, "that the strange gentleman who visited my
niece on Monday night posted the very letter which I received by the
second delivery yesterday?"
"That is what the police believe," replied Theydon.
"Then it would seem that she resolved to come to me at Iffley as the
result of something he told her?"
"Why do you think that?"
"Because I heard from her only last Saturday, and she not only said
nothing about coming to Oxfordshire, but asked me to arrange to spend
a fortnight in London before we both went to Cornwall for the Summer."
"Ah! That is rather important, I should imagine," said Theydon
thoughtfully.
"It is odd, too, that you and the detectives should have noticed the
smell of a joss stick in the flat," went on Miss Beale. "Edith-- my
niece, you know-- could not bear the smell of joss sticks. They
reminded her of Shanghai, where she lost her husband."
Theydon looked more startled than such a seemingly simple statement
warranted. He had realized already that the ivory skull was the work
of an Oriental artist, and the mention of Shanghai brought that
sinister symbol very vividly to his mind's eye.
"Mrs. Lester had lived in China, then?" he said.
"Yes. She was out there nearly six years. Her husband died suddenly
last October-- he was poisoned, she firmly believed-- and, of course,
she came home at once."
"What was Mr. Lester's business, or profession?"
"He was a barrister. I do not mean that he practised in the Consular
courts. He was making his way in England, but was offered some sort of
appointment in Shanghai. The post was so lucrative that he
relinquished a growing connection at the bar. I have never really
understood what he did. I fancy he had to report on commercial matters
to some firm of bankers in London, but he supplied very little
positive information before Edith and he sailed. Indeed, I took it
that his mission was highly confidential, and about that time there
was a lot in the newspapers about rival negotiators for a big Chinese
loan, so I formed the opinion that he was sent out in connection with
something of the sort. Neither he nor Edith meant to remain long in
the Far East. At first their letters always spoke of an early return.
Then, when the years dragged on, and I asked for definite news of
their homecoming, Edith said that Arthur could not get away until the
country's political affairs were in a more settled state. Finally came
a cablegram from Edith: 'Arthur dead; sailing immediately,' and my
niece was with me within a few weeks. The supposed cause of her
husband's death was some virulent type of fever, but, as I said, Edith
was convinced that he had been poisoned."
"Why?"
"That I never understood. She never willingly talked about Shanghai,
or her life there. Indeed, she was always most anxious that no one
should know she had ever lived in China. Yet she had plenty of friends
out there. I gathered that Arthur had left her well provided for
financially, and they were a most devoted couple. Edith was the only
relative I possessed. It is very dreadful, Mr. Theydon, that she
should be taken from me in such a way."
Her hearer was almost thankful that she yielded to the inevitable rush
of emotion. It gave him time to collect his wits, which had lost their
poise when that wicked-looking little skull was, so to speak, thrust
forcibly into his recollection.
"In a word," he said, at last, "you are Mrs. Lester's next-of-kin and
probably her heiress?"
"Yes, I suppose so, though I was not thinking of that," came the
tearful answer.
"Yet the relationship entails certain responsibilities," said Theydon
firmly. "You should be legally represented at the inquest. Are your
affairs in the hands of any firm of solicitors?"
"Yes-- at Oxford. I contrived to call at their office yesterday and
they recommended me to consult these people," and Miss Beale produced
a card from a handbag. Theydon read the name and address of a
well-known West End firm.
"Good," he said. "I recommend you to go there at once. By the way, was
any one looking after Mrs. Lester's interests? Surely she had dealings
with a bank or an agency?"
"Y-- yes. I do happen to know the source from which her income came.
She-- made a secret of it-- in a measure."
"Pray don't tell me anything of that sort. Your legal adviser might
not approve."
"But what does it matter now? Poor Edith is dead. Her affairs cannot
help being dragged into the light of day. She had some railway shares
and bonds, some of which were left to her by her father, and others
which came under a marriage settlement, but the greater part of her
revenue was derived from a monthly payment made by the bank of which
Mr. James Creighton Forbes is the head."
Miss Beale naturally misinterpreted the blank stare with which Theydon
received this remarkable statement.
"I don't see why any one should wish to conceal a simple matter of
business like that," she said nervously. "May I explain that I have an
impression, not founded on anything quite tangible, that Mr. Forbes
was largely interested in the syndicate which sent Arthur Lester to
China, so it is very likely that the payment of an annuity, or
pension, to Arthur's widow would be left in his care. I do not know. I
am only guessing. But that matter, and others, can hardly fail to be
cleared up by the police inquiry."
Theydon recovered his self-control as rapidly as he had lost it. He
glanced at the clock-- 10:15. Within half an hour, or less, Miss Beale
would be on her way to Scotland Yard. He must act promptly and
decisively, or he would find himself in a distinctly unfavorable
position in his relations with the Criminal Investigation Department.
"I happen to be acquainted with Mr. Forbes," he said, striving
desperately to appear cool and methodical when his brain was seething.
"Would you mind if I just rang him up on the telephone? A few words
now might enlighten us materially."
"O, you are most helpful," said the lady, blushing again with timid
gratitude. "I am so glad I summoned up courage to call on you. I was
terrified at the idea of going to the Police Headquarters, but I shall
not mind it at all now."
Soon Theydon was asking for "00400, Bank." He had left the door of his
sitting room open purposely. No matter what the outcome, he no longer
dared keep the compact of silence into which he had entered with
Forbes. But the millionaire was not at his office. In response to a
very determined request for a word with some one in authority, "on a
matter of real urgency," the clerk who had answered the call brought
"Mr. Forbes's secretary," a Mr. Macdonald, to the telephone.
"It is important, vitally important, that I should speak with Mr.
Forbes within the next few minutes," said Theydon, after giving his
name and address. "Do you expect him to arrive soon? Or shall I try
and reach him at Fortescue Square?"
"Mr. Forbes will not be here till midday," came a voice with a
pronounced Scottish intonation. "I'm doubtful, too, if ye'll catch him
at home. Can I give him a message?"
"Do you know where he is?"
"Well, I cannot say."
"But do you know?"
"I'll be glad to give him a message."
"It will be too late, then. Please understand, Mr. Macdonald, that I
am making this call at Mr. Forbes's express wish. It is, as I have
said, vitally important that I should get in touch with him without
delay."
Scottish caution was not to be overcome by an appeal of that sort.
"I cannot go beyond what I have said," was the reply. "If you like to
ask at his house--"
"O, ring off!" cried Theydon, who pictured the secretary as a lanky
hollow-cheeked Scot, a model of discretion and trustworthiness, no
doubt, but utterly unequal to a crisis demanding some measure of
self-confident initiative. In reality, Mr. Macdonald was short and
stout, and quite a jovial little man.
After an exasperating delay, he got into communication with the Forbes
mansion in Fortescue Square.
"I'm Mr. Frank Theydon," he said, striving to speak unconcernedly. "Is
Mr. Forbes in?"
"No, sir."
"Is that you, Tomlinson?"
"Yes, sir."
"Can you tell me where I can find Mr. Forbes at once?"
"Isn't he at his office, sir?"
"No. He will not be there till 12 o'clock."
A pause of indecision on Tomlinson's part. Then, a possible solution
of the difficulty.
"Would you care to have a word with Miss Evelyn, sir?"
"O, yes, yes."
Theydon blurted out this emphatic acceptance of the butler's
suggestion without a thought as to its possible consequences. He was
racking his brain in a frenzy of uncertainty as to how he should frame
his words when he heard quite clearly a woman's footsteps on the
parquet flooring, and caught Evelyn Forbes's voice saying to
Tomlinson: "How fortunate! Mr. Theydon is the very person I wished to
speak to, but I simply dared not ring him up."
The slight incident only provided Theydon with a new source of
wonderment. Why should Evelyn Forbes want speech with him at that
early hour? Perhaps she would explain. He could only hope so, and
trust to luck in the choice of his own phrases.
"That you, Mr. Theydon?" came the girl's voice, sweet in its cadence
yet ominously eager. "How nice of you to anticipate my unspoken
thought! I have been horribly anxious ever since I read of that awful
affair at Innesmore Mansions. That poor lady's flat is next door to
yours, is it not?"
"Yes, but--"
"O, you cannot choke off a woman's curiosity quite so easily. You see,
I happen to know that Mrs. Lester's sad death affects my father in
some way, and I realize now that you two were just on pins and needles
to get rid of me last night so that you might talk freely."
"Miss Forbes, I assure you--"
"Wait till I've finished, and you will not be under the necessity of
telling me any polite fibs. You men are all alike. You think the giddy
feminine brain is not fitted to cope with mysteries, and that is where
you are utterly mistaken. A woman's intuition often peers deeper than
a man's logic. I--"
"Do forgive me," broke in Theydon despairingly, "but I am really most
anxious to know how and where I can get a word with your father. I
would not be so rude as to interrupt you if I hadn't the best of
excuses. Tell me where to find him now, and I promise to give you a
call immediately afterward."
"He's at the Home Office."
"At the Home Office!"
Some hint of utter bewilderment in Theydon's tone must have reached
the girl's alert ear.
"Ah! Touché!" she cried. "Now will you be good and tell me why Dad
should receive a little ivory skull by this morning's post?"
Theydon knew that he paled. His very scalp tingled with an
apprehension of some shadowy yet none the less affrighting evil. But
he schooled himself to say, with a semblance of calm interest:
"What exactly do you mean, Miss Forbes?"
She laughed lightly. Theydon was so flurried that he did not realize
the possibility of Evelyn Forbes being as quick to mask her real
feelings as he himself was.
"Dad and I make a point of breakfasting together at nine o'clock every
morning," she said. "We were talking about you, and he told me of the
dreadful thing that happened to Mrs. Lester. I was reading the account
of the tragedy in a newspaper, when I happened to glance at him. He
was going through his letters, and I was just a trifle curious to know
what was in a flat box which came by registered post. He opened it
carelessly and something fell out and rolled across the table. I
picked it up and saw that it was a small piece of ivory, carved with
extraordinary skill to represent a skull. Indeed, it was so clever as
to be decidedly repulsive. I was going to say something when I saw
that the letter which was in the same box had alarmed him so greatly
that, for a second or two, I thought he would faint. But he can be
very strong and stern at times, and he recovered himself instantly,
was quite vexed with me because I had examined the ivory skull, and
forbade my going out until he had returned from the Home Office.
Tomlinson and the other men have orders not to admit any one to the
house, no matter on what pretext, and I'm sure the letter and its
nasty little token are bound up in some way with Mrs. Lester's death.
Won't you let me into the secret? I shan't scream or do anything
foolish, but I do think I am entitled to know what you know if it
affects my father."
A sudden change in the girl's voice warned Theydon of a restraint of
which he had been unconscious hitherto. He tried to temporize, to
whittle away her fears. That was a duty he owed to Forbes, who was
clearly resolved not to take his daughter into his confidence-- for
the present, at any rate.
"I really fail to see why you should assume some connection between
the crime which was committed here on Monday night and the arrival of
a somewhat singular package at your house this morning," he said
reassuringly.
"Like every other woman, I jump at conclusions," she answered. "Why
should this crime, in particular, have worried my father?
Unfortunately, the newspapers are full of such horrid things, yet he
hardly ever pays them any attention. No, Mr. Theydon, I am not
mistaken. He either knew Mrs. Lester, and was shocked at her death, or
saw in it some personal menace. Then comes the letter, with its
obvious threat, and I am ordered to remain at home, under a strong
guard, while he hurries off to Whitehall. You have met my father, Mr.
Theydon. Do you regard him as the sort of man who would rush off in a
panic to consult the Home Secretary without very grave and weighty
reasons?"
"But you can hardly be certain that a wretched crime in this
comparatively insignificant quarter of London supplies the actual
motive of Mr. Forbes's action," urged Theydon.
The girl stamped an impatient foot. He heard it distinctly.
"Of course I am certain," she cried. "Why won't you be candid? You
know I am right-- I can tell it from your voice, and your guarded way
of talking--"
An inspiration came to Theydon's relief in that instant.
"Pardon the interruption," he said, "but I must point out that both of
us are acting unwisely in discussing such matters over the telephone.
Really, neither must say another word, except this-- when I have found
your father I'll ask his permission to come and see you. Perhaps we
three can arrange to meet somewhere for luncheon. That is absolutely
the farthest limit to which I dare go at this moment."
"O, very well!"
The receiver was hung up in a temper, and the prompt ring-off jarred
disagreeably in Theydon's ear. If he was puzzled before, he was
thoroughly at sea now. But he took a bold course, and cared not a jot
whether or not it was a prudent one.
The mere sound of Evelyn Forbes's voice had steeled his heart and
conscience against the dictates of common sense. Let the detectives
think what they might, the girl's father must be allowed to carry
through his plans without let or hindrance.
"Miss Beale," said Theydon, gazing fixedly into the sorrow-laden eyes
of the quiet little lady whom he found seated where he had left her,
"I'm going to tell you something very important, very serious,
something so far-reaching and momentous that neither you nor I can
measure its effect. You heard the conversation on the telephone?"
"I heard what you were saying, but could not understand much of it,"
said his visitor in a scared way.
"I have been trying to communicate with Mr. Forbes, but his daughter
tells me that the murder of your niece seems to have affected him in a
manner which is incomprehensible to her, and even more so to me,
though I am acquainted with facts which her father and I have
purposely kept from her knowledge. Mr. Forbes has gone hurriedly to
the Home Office. I suppose you know what that means? He is about to
give the Home Secretary certain information, and it is not for you or
me to interfere with his discretion. Now, if you tell the Scotland
Yard people what you have told me, namely, that Mr. Forbes was the
intermediary through whom Mrs. Lester received the greater part of her
income, he will be brought prominently into the inquiry. You see that,
don't you?"
"Yes. I suppose that something of the sort must happen."
"Well, I want you to suppress that vital fact until we know more about
this affair. It will not be for long. Each of us must tell our story
without reservation at some future date-- whether this afternoon, or
tomorrow, or a week hence, I cannot say now. But I do ask you to keep
your knowledge to yourself until I have had an opportunity of
consulting Mr. Forbes. I undertake to tell you the exact position of
matters without delay, and I accept all responsibility for my present
advice."
"I know little of the world, Mr. Theydon," said Miss Beale, rising,
and beginning to draw on her gloves, "but I shall be very greatly
surprised if you are advising me to act otherwise than honorably. I
shall certainly not utter a word about Mr. Forbes at Scotland Yard.
When all is said and done, my statement to you was largely guesswork.
You must remember that I have never seen Mr. Forbes, nor hardly ever
heard his name except in connection with public matters in the Press.
O, yes. I make that promise readily. I trust you implicitly!"
CHAPTER VI
CLOSE QUARTERS
Theydon escorted Miss Beale downstairs. As they passed the closed door
of No. 17, the lady shivered.
"To think that within the next few days I would have been staying
there with Edith, and planning evenings at the theater before going to
Newquay!" she murmured; there was a pitiful catch in her voice that
told better than words how the remainder of her existence would be
darkened by the tragedy.
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