The Angel of Terror

by Edgar Wallace

  Chapter XVI

  Lydia had promised to go to the theatre that night with Mrs.Cole-Mortimer, and she was glad of the excuse to leave her tragic home.

  Mrs. Cole-Mortimer, who was not lavish in the matter of entertainmentsthat cost money, had a box, and although Lydia had seen the piece before(it was in fact the very play she had attended to sketch dresses on thenight of her adventure) it was a relief to sit in silence, which herhostess, with singular discretion, did not attempt to disturb.

  It was during the last act that Mrs. Cole-Mortimer gave her aninvitation which she accepted joyfully.

  "I've got a house at Cap Martin," said Mrs. Cole-Mortimer. "It is only atiny place, but I think you would rather like it. I hate going to theRiviera alone, so if you care to come as my guest, I shall be most happyto chaperon you. They are bringing my yacht down to Monaco, so we oughtto have a really good time."

  Lydia accepted the yacht and the house as she had accepted theinvitation--without question. That the yacht had been chartered thatmorning and the house hired by telegram on the previous day, she couldnot be expected to guess. For all she knew, Mrs. Cole-Mortimer might bea very wealthy woman, and in her wildest dreams she did not imagine thatJean Briggerland had provided the money for both.

  It had not been a delicate negotiation, because Mrs. Cole-Mortimer hadthe skin of a pachyderm.

  Years later Lydia discovered that the woman lived on borrowed money,money which never could and never would be repaid, and which theborrower had no intention of refunding.

  A hint dropped by Jean that there was somebody on the Riviera whom shedesired to meet, without her father's knowledge, accompanied by theplain statement that she would pay all expenses, was quite sufficientfor Mrs. Cole-Mortimer, and she had fallen in with her patron's views asreadily as she had agreed to pose as a friend of Meredith's. To do herjustice, she had the faculty of believing in her own invention, and shewas quite satisfied that James Meredith had been a great personal friendof hers, just as she would believe that the house on the Riviera and thelittle steam-yacht had been procured out of her own purse.

  It was harder for her, however, to explain the great system which shewas going to work in Monte Carlo and which was to make everybody'sfortune.

  Lydia, who was no gambler and only mildly interested in games of chance,displayed so little evidence of interest in the scheme that Mrs.Cole-Mortimer groaned her despair, not knowing that she was expected todo no more than stir the soil for the crop which Jean Briggerland wouldplant and reap.

  They went on to supper at one of the clubs, and Lydia thought withamusement of poor old Jaggs, who apparently took his job very seriouslyindeed.

  Again her angle of vision had shifted, and her respect for the old manhad overcome any annoyance his uncouth presence brought to her.

  As she alighted at the door of the club she looked round, half expectingto see him. The club entrance was up a side street off Leicester Square,an ill-lit thoroughfare which favoured Mr. Jaggs's retiring methods, butthere was no sign of him, and she did not wait in the drizzling night tomake any closer inspection.

  Mrs. Cole-Mortimer had not disguised the possibility of Jean Briggerlandbeing at the club, and they found her with a gay party of young people,sitting in one of the recesses. Jean made a place for the girl by herside and introduced her to half a dozen people whose names Lydia did notcatch, and never afterwards remembered.

  Mr. Marcus Stepney, however, that sleek, dark man, who bowed over herhand and seemed as though he were going to kiss it, she had met before,and her second impression of him was even less favourable than thefirst.

  "Do you dance?" asked Jean.

  A jazz band was playing an infectious two-step. At the girl's nod Jeanbeckoned one of her party, a tall, handsome boy who throughout thesubsequent dance babbled into Lydia's ear an incessant paean in praise ofJean Briggerland.

  Lydia was amused.

  "Of course she is very beautiful," she said in answer to theinterminable repetition of his question. "I think she's lovely."

  "That's what I say," said the young man, whom she discovered was LordStoker. "The most amazingly beautiful creature on the earth, I think."

  "Of course you're awfully good-looking, too," he blundered, and Lydialaughed aloud.

  "But she's got enemies," said the young man viciously, "and if ever Imeet that infernal cad, Glover, he'll be sorry."

  The smile left Lydia's face.

  "Mr. Glover is a friend of mine," she said a little quickly.

  "Sorry," he mumbled, "but----"

  "Does Miss Briggerland say he is so very bad?"

  "Of course not. She never says a word against him really." His lordshiphastened to exonerate his idol. "She just says she doesn't know how longshe's going to stand his persecutions. It breaks one's heart to see howsad this--your friend makes her."

  Lydia was a very thoughtful girl for the rest of the evening; she wasbeginning in a hazy way to see things which she had not seen before. Ofcourse Jean never said anything against Jack Glover. And yet she hadsucceeded in arousing this youth to fury against the lawyer, and Lydiarealised, with a sense of amazement, that Jean had also made her feelbad about Jack. And yet she had said nothing but sweet things.

  When she got back to the flat that night she found that Mr. Jaggs hadnot been there all the evening. He came in a few minutes after her,wrapped up in an old army coat, and from his appearance she gatheredthat he had been standing out in the rain and sleet the whole of theevening.

  "Why, Jaggs," she said impulsively, "wherever have you been?"

  "Just dodging round, miss," he grunted. "Having a look at the littleducks in the pond."

  "You've been outside the theatre, and you've been waiting outside Niro'sClub," she said accusingly.

  "Don't know it, miss," he said. "One theayter is as much like anotherone to me."

  "You must take your things off and let Mrs. Morgan dry your clothes,"she insisted, but he would not hear of this, compromising only withstripping his sodden great coat.

  He disappeared into his dark room, there to ruminate upon such mattersas appeared of interest to him. A bed had been placed for him, but onlyonce had he slept on it.

  After the flat grew still and the last click of the switch told that thelast light had been extinguished, he opened the door softly, and,carrying a chair in his hand, he placed this gently with its back to thefront door, and there he sat and dozed throughout the night. When Lydiawoke the next morning he was gone as usual.