Yard!" I cried.
In my ignorance of the truth I believed my threats would be of avail.Ah, had I but known the actual facts, how differently would I haveacted! But surely that enigma was one that was beyond human power toelucidate. Upon every hand I found complications. Plot lay withinplot--all directed against myself and against poor innocent Mabel, whohad flown to me on receipt of what she had believed to be my urgenttelegram.
"My intentions, Mr. Holford, entirely depend upon your actions," saidKirk, very plainly. "If you are foolish--well, then I cannot guaranteethe safety of your wife. My advice to you, however, is to recall all Itold you, believe in the truth of my statements, and act with slowdiscretion."
"But my wife?" I cried. "I must--I will save her. She is in peril, Iam sure of that!"
"She may be in grave peril if you go to the police," he saidenigmatically; "and, believe me, they cannot assist us in the least todiscover who killed Professor Greer."
"Why?"
Kirk hesitated. In that pause I scented an intention further to preventme from speaking.
"Well, regard the matter calmly and without prejudice," he said at last."As a matter of fact, what evidence is there that the Professor isdead?"
"Evidence!" I cried. "Why, did not you and I see him dead? Did nothis daughter stand before his lifeless body?"
"Ah, she would never tell what she saw!" he said, with a mysterioussmile.
"Why not?" I asked, much surprised at his remark.
But my mysterious neighbour only shrugged his shoulders vaguely,answering:
"There is a reason why she will never admit his death--a strong reason."
"Well," I said, "I recovered from the ashes of the furnace certainremains--coat buttons and other scraps of clothing."
"And you think they would be accepted as evidence that Professor Greerwas done to death?" he laughed. "You are evidently unaware of the greatcaution exercised by the Criminal Investigation Department in acceptingany evidence such as that which you could furnish. No," he added, "onlyAntonio and Ethelwynn were the actual witnesses, in addition toourselves, of the Professor's tragic end. And as they refuse to admitthat he is dead, any information you may lodge at Scotland Yard mustonly reflect upon yourself and bring greater peril upon Mrs. Holford. Isimply tell you the truth--believe me, or believe me not."
"Well," I exclaimed, "I disbelieve you, Mr. Kirk."
"Then I wish you good evening!" he exclaimed abruptly. "Act as youthink proper!" he added defiantly, as, turning from me in disregard hewalked to his large writing-table, where he took up some letters, at thesame time singing, with that careless cosmopolitan air of his, LucienFugere's popular _chanson_, which at the moment one heard everywhere inthe streets of Paris.
"Then that's your last word, eh, Mr. Kirk?"
I asked when he had concluded the verse.
"It is," he replied determinedly. "If you must act as a fool, then Ican't assist you further. Good night!" And he sat down and busiedhimself with his accumulated correspondence.
I now realised that he was utterly defiant, and thoughts of my loss ofMabel caused my blood to boil within me. His light, careless mannerirritated me beyond measure.
"Very well," I cried. "Good night, Mr. Kirk!" And turning swiftly uponmy heel, I left the room and found my way down the great staircase andout into Whitehall.
Too late at that hour to call at New Scotland Yard, close by, I hailed ahansom and drove straight home, almost beside myself with rage at thecalm, unruffled, defiant attitude with which the adventurer had met me.
Next morning, after writing some letters, I went round to the garage,where I found Pelham, somewhat excited.
"This morning, when I arrived at eight o'clock," he said. "I foundawaiting me a rather shabbily-dressed old man who said he wanted to seean Eckhardt tyre. Recollecting my previous experiences of people who'vecome in to handle them, I told him that if he wished to buy one I couldsell him one, but I hadn't time to waste on sightseers. Whereupon theold fellow promptly paid for a cover before seeing it, and took it awayon a cab which he had waiting."
"Well?" I asked, rather, surprised. "And who was he?"
"That's the curious point. He was an old chap I've seen about theneighbourhood many times--thin, rather shabby and disreputable, greyhair and moustache--lives in your road, I think. Drake says you knowhim."
"Kershaw Kirk!" I gasped.
"Yes; that's the name Drake said before he went out with the `sixty,'"replied my manager.
"What does he want with a tyre when he hasn't got a car?"
I stood in silence. What, indeed, did that man want with one of the newtyres? Had he merely come down there to have further words with me, ordid he require a cover for some specific purpose?
My mind, however, was made up. I had resolved to go to New ScotlandYard, and, even though tardily, to place the whole of the facts beforethe Criminal Investigation Department. Therefore I got out the"forty-eight" and drove along the Hammersmith Road and Knightsbridge,across St. James's Park, and through Storey's Gate to Whitehall. Ialighted in the big courtyard of the police headquarters, where a numberof motor-'buses were drawn up for inspection, and entered the largestone hall, when a constable came forward to inquire my business.
I handed him my card, explaining that I wished to see one of thedetective inspectors upon a confidential matter, and was shown upstairsand along a wide corridor to a bare waiting-room.
For some ten minutes I remained there, when the door opened, and I foundmyself face to face with a middle-aged, pleasant-faced man, who was oneof the most noted and experienced officers of the department.
For a moment I held my breath. I recollected all the threats that hadbeen made of Mabel's peril if I dared to speak the truth.
The detective-inspector closed the door behind him, and, wishing me apolite "Good morning," inquired my business.
I told him. Yes; I blurted forth the truth, and made a clean breast ofthe whole matter.
But the instant I had done so I bitterly repented it.
I realised something which I had not before recognised.
I saw that, even though my dear wife were missing and in peril, I was afool--an utter idiot--for having dared to breathe a word.
My injudicious statement had only rendered the enigma still morecomplicated than hitherto.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS.
The shrewd officer seated at the table with me, a pen in his hand, heardmy narrative to the end, now and then making brief memoranda.
Presently he exclaimed:
"Would you kindly excuse me? I'd like another gentleman to hear thisstory." And he rose and left.
A few minutes later he returned with a rather taller, clean-shaven man,slightly younger, who had on a dark overcoat and carried a silk hat inhis hand.
"This is Mr. Holford," said the first officer, introducing me. "He'sjust told me a very remarkable story, which I'd like you to hear for amoment."
Then, turning to me, he asked me to repeat briefly what I had alleged.
The new-comer, seating himself, listened attentively to every word whichfell from my lips. I noticed that he exchanged curious glances with hisbrother officer.
"Your main reason, then, for telling us this story is in order to compelthose responsible for your wife's absence to reveal her whereabouts, Itake it?" asked the younger man.
"Exactly."
"The false telegram was dispatched from Turin, eh?"
"Yes. Cannot you communicate with the Italian police concerning it?"
"And pray what good would result?" he queried. "After long delay wemight perchance get the original of the telegram, but I don't see thatthat would assist us very far. When people send bogus messages theygenerally disguise their handwriting."
"Well, I leave it to you to take what steps you like to assist me," Isaid. "My sole object is to find my lost wife."
"Naturally, my dear sir," observed the officer. "We'll first t
ake downyour statement in writing." And then the man I had first seen wrote atmy dictation a brief summary of the mysterious death of Professor Greerand its attendant complications and my suspicion of Kershaw Kirk.
"Well, we'll place this before the Commissioner to-day. Perhaps you'llcall to-morrow; say about this time. We will then let you know ouropinion and our intentions."
With that I was compelled to be satisfied, and I left the waiting-roomfull of hope that by that bold move of mine I might gain knowledge ofthe whereabouts of my well-beloved.
How I existed throughout that day I cannot tell. I tried to attend tomy business, but in
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