CHAPTER XIII
THE MAN WHO CAME TO MONTREUX
It was two months after the great trial, on a warm day in October, whenFrank Merrill stepped ashore from the big white paddle boat which hadcarried him across Lake Leman from Lausanne, and, handing his bag to aporter, made his way to the hotel omnibus. He looked at his watch. Itpointed to a quarter to four, and May was not due to arrive until halfpast. He went to his hotel, washed and changed and came down to thevestibule to inquire if the instructions he had telegraphed had beencarried out.
May was arriving in company with Saul Arthur Mann, who was taking one ofhis rare holidays abroad. Frank had only seen the girl once since theday of the trial. He had come to breakfast on the following morning, andvery little had been said. He was due to leave that afternoon for theContinent. He had a little money, sufficient for his needs, and JasperCole had offered no suggestion that he would dispute the will, in so faras it affected Frank. So he had gone abroad and had idled away twomonths in France, Spain, and Italy, and had then made his leisurely wayback to Switzerland by way of Maggiore.
He had grown a little graver, was a little more set in his movements,but he bore upon his face no mark to indicate the mental agony throughwhich he must have passed in that long-drawn-out and wearisome trial. Sothought the girl as she came through the swing doors of the hotel,passed the obsequious hotel servants, and greeted him in the big palmcourt.
If she saw any change in him he remarked a development in her which wasa little short of wonderful. She was at that age when the woman isbreaking through the beautiful chrysalis of girlhood. In those twomonths a remarkable change had come over her, a change which he couldnot for the moment define, for this phenomenon of development had beendenied to his experience.
"Why, May," he said, "you are quite old."
She laughed, and again he noticed the change. The laugh was richer,sweeter, purer than the bubbling treble he had known.
"You are not getting complimentary, are you?" she asked.
She was exquisitely dressed, and had that poise which few Englishwomenachieve. She had the art of wearing clothes, and from the flimsy crestof her toque to the tips of her little feet she was all that the mostexacting critic could desire. There are well-dressed women who are nomore than mannequins. There are fine ladies who cannot be mistaken foranything but fine ladies, whose dresses are a horror and an abominationand whose expressed tastes are execrable.
May Nuttall was a fine lady, finely appareled.
"When you have finished admiring me, Frank," she said, "tell us whatyou have been doing. But first of all let us have some tea. You know Mr.Mann?"
The little investigator beaming in the background took Frank's hand andshook it heartily. He was dressed in what he thought was an appropriatecostume for a mountainous country. His boots were stout, the woolenstockings which covered his very thin legs were very woolen, and hisknickerbocker suit was warranted to stand wear and tear. He hadabandoned his top hat for a large golf cap, which was perched rakishlyover one eye. Frank looked round apprehensively for Saul Arthur'salpenstock, and was relieved when he failed to discover one.
The girl threw off her fur wrap and unbuttoned her gloves as the waiterplaced the big silver tray on the table before her.
"I'm afraid I have not much to tell," said Frank in answer to herquestion. "I've just been loafing around. What is your news?"
"What is my news?" she asked. "I don't think I have any, except thateverything is going very smoothly in England, and, oh, Frank, I am soimmensely rich!"
He smiled.
"The appropriate thing would be to say that I am immensely poor," hesaid, "but as a matter of fact I am not. I went down to Aix and wonquite a lot of money."
"Won it?" she said.
He nodded with an amused little smile.
"You wouldn't have thought I was a gambler, would you?" he askedsolemnly. "I don't think I am, as a matter of fact, but somehow I wantedto occupy my mind."
"I understand," she said quickly.
Another little pause while she poured out the tea, which afforded SaulArthur Mann an opportunity of firing off fifty facts about Geneva in asmany sentences.
"What has happened to Jasper?" asked Frank after a while.
The girl flushed a little.
"Oh, Jasper," she said awkwardly, "I see him, you know. He has becomemore mysterious than ever, quite like one of those wicked people onereads about in sensational stories. He has a laboratory somewhere in thecountry, and he does quite a lot of motoring. I've seen him severaltimes at Brighton, for instance."
Frank nodded slowly.
"I should think that he was a good driver," he said.
Saul Arthur Mann looked up and met his eye with a smile which was lostupon the girl.
"He has been kind to me," she said hesitatingly.
"Does he ever speak about--"
She shook her head.
"I don't want to think about that," she said; "please don't let us talkabout it."
He knew she was referring to John Minute's death, and changed theconversation.
A few minutes later he had an opportunity of speaking with Mr. Mann.
"What is the news?" he asked.
Saul Arthur Mann looked round.
"I think we are getting near the truth," he said, dropping his voice."One of my men has had him under observation ever since the day of thetrial. There is no doubt that he is really a brilliant chemist."
"Have you a theory?"
"I have several," said Mr. Mann. "I am perfectly satisfied that theunfortunate fellow we saw together on the occasion of our first meetingwas Rex Holland's servant. I was as certain that he was poisoned by avery powerful poisoning. When your trial was on the body was exhumed andexamined, and the presence of that drug was discovered. It was the sameas that employed in the case of the chauffeur. Obviously, Rex Holland isa clever chemist. I wanted to see you about that. He said at the trialthat he had discussed such matters with you."
Frank nodded.
"We used to have quite long talks about drugs," he said. "I haverecalled many of those conversations since the day of the trial. Heeven fired me with his enthusiasm, and I used to assist him in hislittle experiments, and obtained quite a working knowledge of theseparticular elements. Unfortunately I cannot remember very much, for myenthusiasm soon died, and beyond the fact that he employed hyocine andIndian hemp I have only the dimmest recollection of any of theconstituents he employed."
Saul Arthur nodded energetically.
"I shall have more to tell you later, perhaps," he said, "but at presentmy inquiries are shaping quite nicely. He is going to be a difficult manto catch, because, if all I believe is true, he is one of the mostcold-blooded and calculating men it has ever been my lot to meet--and Ihave met a few," he added grimly.
When he said men Frank knew that he had meant criminals.
"We are probably doing him a horrible injustice," he smiled. "Poor oldJasper!"
"You are not cut out for police work," snapped Saul Arthur Mann;"you've too many sympathies."
"I don't exactly sympathize," rejoined Frank, "but I just pity him in away."
Again Mr. Mann looked round cautiously and again lowered his voice,which had risen.
"There is one thing I want to talk to you about. It is rather a delicatematter, Mr. Merrill," he said.
"Fire ahead!"
"It is about Miss Nuttall. She has seen a lot of our friend Jasper, andafter every interview she seems to grow more and more reliant upon hishelp. Once or twice she has been embarrassed when I have spoken aboutJasper Cole and has changed the subject."
Frank pursed his lips thoughtfully, and a hard little look came into hiseyes, which did not promise well for Jasper.
"So that is it," he said, and shrugged his shoulders. "If she cares forhim, it is not my business."
"But it is your business," said the other sharply. "She was fond enoughof you to offer to marry you."
Further talk was cut short by the arrival o
f the girl. Their meeting atGeneva had been to some extent a chance one. She was going through toChamonix to spend the winter, and Saul Arthur Mann seized theopportunity of taking a short and pleasant holiday. Hearing that Frankwas in Switzerland, she had telegraphed him to meet her.
"Are you staying any time in Switzerland?" she asked him as theystrolled along the beautiful quay.
"I am going back to London to-night," he replied.
"To-night," she said in surprise.
He nodded.
"But I am staying here for two or three days," she protested.
"I intended also staying for two or three days," he smiled, "but mybusiness will not wait."
Nevertheless, she persuaded him to stay till the morrow.
They were at breakfast when the morning mail was delivered, and Franknoted that she went rapidly through the dozen letters which came to her,and she chose one for first reading. He could not help but see that thatbore an English stamp, and his long acquaintance with the curiouscalligraphy of Jasper Cole left him in no doubt as to who was thecorrespondent. He saw with what eagerness she read the letter, thelittle look of disappointment when she turned to an inside sheet andfound that it had not been filled, and his mind was made up. He had apost also, which he examined with some evidence of impatience.
"Your mail is not so nice as mine," said the girl with a smile.
"It is not nice at all," he grumbled; "the one thing I wanted, and, tobe very truthful, May, the one inducement--"
"To stay over the night," she added, "was--what?"
"I have been trying to buy a house on the lake," he said, "and theinfernal agent at Lausanne promised to write telling me whether my termshad been agreed to by his client."
He looked down at the table and frowned. Saul Arthur Mann had a greatand extensive knowledge of human nature. He had remarked thedisappointment on Frank's face, having identified also the correspondentwhose letter claimed priority of attention. He knew that Frank's angerwith the house agent was very likely the expression of his anger inquite another direction.
"Can I send the letter on?" suggested the girl.
"That won't help me," said Frank, with a little grimace. "I wanted tosettle the business this week."
"I have it," she said. "I will open the letter and telegraph to you inParis whether the terms are accepted or not."
Frank laughed.
"It hardly seems worth that," he said, "but I should take it as awfullykind of you if you would, May."
Saul Arthur Mann believed in his mind that Frank did not care tuppencewhether the agent accepted the terms or not, but that he had taken thisas a Heaven-sent opportunity for veiling his annoyance.
"You have had quite a large mail, Miss Nuttall," he said.
"I've only opened one, though. It is from Jasper," she said hurriedly.
Again both men noticed the faint flush, the strange, unusual light whichcame to her eyes.
"And where does Jasper write from?" asked Frank, steadying his voice.
"He writes from England, but he was going on the Continent to Hollandthe day he wrote," she said. "It is funny to think that he is here."
"In Switzerland?" asked Frank in surprise.
"Don't be silly," she laughed. "No, I mean on the mainland--I mean thereis no sea between us."
She went crimson.
"It sounds thrilling," said Frank dryly.
She flashed round at him.
"You mustn't be horrid about Jasper," she said quickly; "he never speaksabout you unkindly."
"I don't see why he should," said Frank; "but let's get off a subjectwhich is--"
"Which is--what?" she challenged
"Which is controversial," said Frank diplomatically.
She came down to the station to see him off. As he looked out of thewindow, waving his farewells, he thought he had never seen a more lovelybeing or one more desirable.
It was in the afternoon of that day which saw Frank Merrill speedingtoward the Swiss frontier and Paris that Mr. Rex Holland strode into thePalace Hotel at Montreux and seated himself at a table in therestaurant. The hour was late and the room was almost deserted.Giovanni, the head waiter, recognized him and came hurriedly across theroom.
"Ah, m'sieur," he said, "you are back from England. I didn't expect youtill the winter sports had started. Is Paris very dull?"
"I didn't come through Paris," said the other shortly; "there are manyroads leading to Switzerland."
"But few pleasant roads, m'sieur. I have come to Montreux by all mannerof ways--from Paris, through Pontarlier, through Ostend, Brussels,through the Hook of Holland and Amsterdam, but Paris is the only way forthe man who is flying to this beautiful land."
The man at the table said nothing, scanning the menu carefully. Helooked tired as one who had taken a very long journey.
"It may interest you to know," he said, after he had given his order andas Giovanni was turning away, "that I came by the longest route. Tellme, Giovanni, have you a man called Merrill staying at the hotel?"
"No, m'sieur," said the other. "Is he a friend of yours?"
Mr. Rex Holland smiled.
"In a sense he is a friend, in a sense he is not," he said flippantly,and offered no further enlightenment, although Giovanni waited with adeferential cock of his head.
Later, when he had finished his modest dinner, he strolled into the onelong street of the town, returning to the writing room of the hotel witha number of papers which included the visitors' list, a publicationprinted in English, and which, as it related the comings and goings ofvisitors, not only to Lausanne, Montreux, and Teritet, but also to Evianand Geneva, enjoyed a fair circulation. He sat at the table, and,drawing a sheet of paper from the rack, wrote, addressed an envelope toFrank Merrill, esquire, Hotel de France, Geneva, slipped it into thehotel pillar box, and went to bed.
"There's a letter here for Frank," said the girl. "I wonder if it isfrom his agent."
She examined the envelope, which bore the Montreux postmark.
"I should imagine it is," said Saul Arthur Mann.
"Well, I am going to open it, anyway," said the girl. "Poor Frank! Hewill be in a state of suspense."
She tore open the envelope, and took out a letter. Mr. Mann saw her facego white, and the letter trembled in her hand. Without a word she passedit to him, and he read:
"Dear Frank Merrill," said the letter. "Give me another month's graceand then you may tell the whole story. Yours, Rex Holland."
Saul Arthur Mann stared at the letter with open mouth.
"What does it mean?" asked the girl in a whisper.
"It means that Merrill is shielding somebody," said the other. "Itmeans--"
Suddenly his face lit up with excitement.
"The writing!" he gasped.
Her eyes followed his, and for a moment she did not understand; then,with a lightning sweep of her arm, she snatched the letter from hishand and crumpled it in a ball.
"The writing!" said Mr. Mann again. "I've seen it before. It is--JasperCole's!"
She looked at him steadily, though her face was white, and the handwhich grasped the crumpled paper was shaking.
"I think you are mistaken, Mr. Mann," she said quietly.
The Man Who Knew Page 13
