CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
AN UNFORTUNATE SLIP
"No, sir," the boots replied, "both were youngish men, with darkmoustaches. They wore heavy coats, and were in an open car. They camefrom York way, and had evidently driven some distance."
"You saw nothing of what went on at their mysterious meeting?"
"Well, sir, the fact is, when I had had my suspicions aroused, I creptout into the yard, and found that I could see into the lounge throughthe chink between the blind and the window. They were all seated roundthe table, the head of which had been taken by the gentleman who hadarrived from London with the lady. He seemed to be chairman, and hetalked in a low, deliberate, and very earnest tone, being listened towith greatest interest. He evidently related something which amazedthem. Then a map, or plan, was placed upon the table, and eachexamined it in turn. Afterwards two photographs were produced by Mr.Winton and handed around the assembly. Each man looked long andsteadily at the pictures--both were of women. The young lady presentrefused to take any part in the discussion, and I noticed that shepassed on the photographs without comment--without even glancing atthem."
"Did she appear to be present there against her will?" I askedbreathlessly.
"No, not exactly. She seemed very friendly with all the gentlemen. Thetwo foreigners were strangers to her--for she was introduced to them."
"By name?"
"Yes, sir. Miss Sonia Poland."
I bit my lip. Had she already dropped my name, and was now passingunder an alias?
"Sonia Poland!" I echoed. "Was it for the purpose of concealing heridentity from the foreigners, do you think?" I asked.
"No, sir. Because Winton and his companion addressed her as SoniaPoland when she arrived."
"And you believed it to be her real name?"
"I suppose it is, sir," was the man's reply, for I fear my mannersomewhat mystified him.
"Well, and what further did you see at this early morningconsultation?" I asked, mindful that his curiosity had no doubt beenaroused by sight of something sparkling in the strange visitor's hand.
"The gentleman called Mr. Lewis wrote out a paper very carefully andhanded it round. Every one signed it--except the lady. They asked herto do so, but she protested vigorously, and the matter was notpressed. Then the photograph of a man was shown to the two foreigners,and the lady tried to prevent it. Curiously enough, sir, I caught agood sight of it--just a head and shoulders--and the picture verymuch resembled you yourself, sir!"
"Me!" I cried. "And they showed it to the two young foreigners--eh?"
"Yes, sir. One of them took it and put it into his pocket. Then themysterious Mr. Lewis, as chairman of the meeting, seemed to raise aprotest. The two foreigners gesticulated, jabbered away, and raisedtheir shoulders a lot. I dearly wish I could have made out a word theysaid. Unfortunately I couldn't. Only I saw that in Mr. Lewis's facewas a look of fierce determination. They at first defied him. But atlast, with great reluctance, they handed back the photograph, whichMr. Lewis himself burned on the fire."
"He burned my photograph!"
"Yes, sir. I think it was yours, sir--but of course I can't be quitepositive."
"And what else?"
"Mr. Winton said something, whereupon all of them glanced at the doorand then at the window. One of the foreigners came to the window, butdid not notice that there was a slight crack through which I couldsee. Then he turned the key in the door. After he had returned to hischair, the man who had arrived with Mr. Winton took from his pocketsomething that shone. My heart beat quickly. It was a diamondnecklet--the object I had seen in his hand earlier. He passed it roundfor the admiration of the others, who each took it and closelyexamined it beneath the light--all but the young lady. She wasstanding aside, near the fireplace, watching. Now and then she placedher hand to her forehead, as though her brain were weary."
"And after that?"
"After the necklet had been passed round the elder of the twoforeigners wrapped it carefully in his handkerchief and placed it inhis pocket. Then Mr. Lewis gave them a long address, emphasizing hiswords with his hand, and they listened to him without uttering a word.Suddenly Mr. Winton sprang up and wrung his hand, afterwards makingwhat appeared to be some highly complimentary remarks, for Mr. Lewissmiled and bowed to the assembly, who afterwards rose. Then the younglady rushed up to Mr. Lewis and implored him to do something, but herefused. She stood before him, pale-faced and determined. Her eyesseemed starting from her head. She seemed like one horrified. But heplaced his hand tenderly upon her shoulder, and uttered some quick lowwords which instantly calmed her. Very shortly after that the partybroke up, and the door was re-opened. The two foreigners hurriedlyswallowed a liqueur-glass of brandy each, and then, passing into theyard, wished their companions adieu and drove away in their car--inthe direction of London."
"Carrying with them the diamond necklet which the other man hadbrought there?"
"Yes, sir."
"And what became of the young lady?" I inquired very anxiously.
"She first had a long and private conversation with the gentlemannamed Winton--the bald-headed man."
This, it will be remembered, was the person whose description talliedexactly with that of her father.
"They went outside together," said the boots, "out into the yard, andthere conversed alone in half-whispers. Afterwards they rejoined theothers. Mr. Lewis seemed very annoyed with her; nevertheless, after acup of tea each, about half-past five the four of them got into thecar in which Winton had arrived and drove away in the direction ofGrantham. Winton gave me a sovereign for myself--an unusually generousgift, I can assure you, sir," he laughed.
"And now what is your own opinion concerning them?" I asked.
"Why, there can only be one opinion, sir--that they are wrong 'uns. Ifelt half a mind to tell Mr. Pearson, the police-constable who livesacross in Water Lane, but I didn't like to without consultingsomebody. And I didn't want to wake up the manageress."
"Ah! and it may now be too late, Cross," said the lady in question,who had been standing by all the time. Then, addressing me, she said--
"The whole affair seemed most mysterious, sir, therefore I went roundand saw the inspector of police this morning, and told him briefly ofour strange visitors. I'm rather glad they're gone, for one neverlikes unpleasantness in a hotel. Yet, of course, the fault cannot bethat of the hotel-keeper if he takes in an undesirable."
"Of course not. But what view did the inspector hold?"
"Inspector Deane merely expressed the opinion that they weresuspicious persons--that's all."
"So they seem to have been," I remarked, without satisfying her as towho I really was. My story there was that I had business relationswith Mr. Lewis, and had followed him there in the hope of catching himup.
We were in the manageress's room, a cosy apartment in the back of thequaint old hostelry, when a waitress came and announced InspectorDeane. The official was at once shown in, whereupon he said abruptly--
"The truth is out, Miss Hammond, regarding your strange visitors oflast night." And he glanced inquiringly at myself.
"You can speak openly before this gentleman," she said, noticing hishesitation.
"The fact is, a circular-telegram has just been sent out from ScotlandYard, saying that by the express from Edinburgh due at King's Cross at10.45 last night the Archduchess Marie Louise, niece of the EmperorFrancis Joseph of Austria, was a passenger. She had been staying atBalmoral, and travelled south in a special saloon. When the luggagecame to be collected a dressing-case was missing--it evidently havingbeen stolen in transit by somebody who had obtained access to thesaloon while on the journey. The corridor was open between York andLondon, so that the restaurant could be reached, and it is believedthat the thief, or thieves, managed to pass in unobserved and throwthe bag out upon the line to some confederate awaiting it. The bagcontained a magnificent diamond necklet--a historic heirloom of theImperial family of the Hapsburgs--and is valued at fifty thousandpounds!"
&nb
sp; "And those people who met here were the thieves!" gasped themanageress, turning instantly pale.
"Without a doubt. You see, the Great Northern main line runs close byus--at Essendine. It may be that the thieves were waiting for it nearthere--waiting for it to be dropped out in the darkness. All theplatelayers along the line are now searching for the bag, but we hereare certain that the thieves spent the night in Stamford."
"Not the thieves," I said. "The receivers."
"Exactly."
"But the young foreigner has it!" cried the boots. "He and his friendset off for London with it."
"Yes. They would reach London in time to catch one of the boat-trainsfrom Victoria or Charing Cross this morning, and by this time they'resafely out of the country--carrying the necklet with them. Ah!Scotland Yard is terribly slow. But the delay seems to have beencaused by the uncertainty of Her Highness as to whether she hadactually brought the dressing-case with her, and she had to telegraphto Balmoral before she could really state that it had been stolen."
"The two men, Douglas Winton and his friend, came here in amotor-car," I remarked. "They had evidently been waiting somewherenear the line, in order to pick up the stolen bag."
"Without a doubt, sir," exclaimed the inspector. "Their actions here,according to what Miss Hammond told me this morning, were mostsuspicious. It's a pity that the boots did not communicate with us."
"Yes, Mr. Deane," said the man referred to, "I'm very sorry now that Ididn't. But I felt loath to disturb people at that hour of themorning."
"You took no note of the number of either of the three cars whichcame, I suppose?"
"No. We have so many cars here that I hardly noticed even what colourthey were."
"Ah! That's unfortunate. Still, we shall probably pick up some clue tothem along the road. Somebody is certain to have seen them, or knowsomething about them."
"This gentleman here knows something about them," remarked themanageress, indicating myself.
The inspector turned to me in quick surprise, and no doubt saw thesurprise in my face.
"I--I know nothing," I managed to exclaim blankly, at once realizingthe terrible pitfall into which I had fallen.
"But you said you knew Mr. Lewis--the gentleman who acted as presidentof that mysterious conference!" Miss Hammond declared, in allinnocence.
"I think, sir," added the inspector, "that the matter is such a graveone that you should at once reveal all you do know. You probablyoverlook the fact that if you persist in silence you may be arrestedas an accessory."
"But I know nothing," I protested; "nothing whatever concerning therobbery!"
"But you know one of the men," said Cross the boots.
"And the lady also, without a doubt!" added the inspector.
"I refuse to be cross-examined in this manner by you!" I retorted inanger, yet full of apprehension now that I saw myself suspected offriendship with the gang.
"Well, sir, then I regret that I must ask you to walk over the bridgewith me to the police-station. I must take you before thesuperintendent," he said firmly.
"But I know nothing," I again protested.
"Come with me," he said, with a grim smile of disbelief. "That you'llbe compelled to prove."
Hushed Up! A Mystery of London Page 26
