Red Money

by Fergus Hume

  CHAPTER XIII.

  A FRIEND IN NEED.

  It was natural that Lambert should talk of having Silver arrested, as inthe first flush of indignation at his audacious attempt to levyblackmail, this appeared the most reasonable thing to do. But when Agneswent back to The Manor, and the sick man was left alone to strugglethrough a long and weary night, the reaction suggested a more cautiousdealing with the matter. Silver was a venomous little reptile, and ifbrought before a magistrate would probably produce the letter which heoffered for sale at so ridiculous a price. If this was made public,Agnes would find herself in an extremely unpleasant position. Certainlythe letter was forged, but that would not be easy to prove. And even ifit were proved and Agnes cleared her character, the necessary scandalconnected with the publicity of such a defence would be both distressingand painful. In wishing to silence Silver, and yet avoid theinterference of the police, Lambert found himself on the horns of adilemma.

  Having readjusted the situation in his own mind, Lambert next day wrotea lengthy letter to Agnes, setting forth his objections to drasticmeasures. He informed her--not quite truthfully--that he hoped to be onhis feet in twenty-four hours, and then would personally attend to thematter, although he could not say as yet what he intended to do. Butfive out of the seven days of grace allowed by the blackmailer yetremained, and much could be done in that time. "Return to town andattend to your own and to your brother's affairs as usual," concludedthe letter. "All matters connected with Silver can be left in my hands,and should he attempt to see you in the meantime, refer him to me." Theepistle ended with the intimation that Agnes was not to worry, as thewriter would take the whole burden on his own shoulders. The widow feltmore cheerful after this communication, and went back to her town houseto act as her lover suggested. She had every belief in Lambert'scapability to deal with the matter.

  The young man was more doubtful, for he could not see how he was tobegin unravelling this tangled skein. The interview with Chaldea hadproved futile, as she was plainly on the side of the enemy, and to applyto Silver for information as to his intentions would merely result in arepetition of what he had said to Lady Agnes. It only remained to laythe whole matter before Inspector Darby, and Lambert was half inclinedto go to Wanbury for this purpose. He did not, however, undertake thejourney, for two reasons. Firstly, he wished to avoid asking forofficial assistance until absolutely forced to do so; and secondly, hewas too ill to leave the cottage. The worry he felt regarding Agnes'sperilous position told on an already weakened frame, and the invalidgrew worse instead of better.

  Finally, Lambert decided to risk a journey to the camp, which was not sovery far distant, and interview Mother Cockleshell. The old lady had nogreat love for Chaldea, who flouted her authority, and would not,therefore, be very kindly disposed towards the girl. The young manbelieved, in some vague way, that Chaldea had originated the conspiracywhich had to do with the letter, and was carrying her underhand plansto a conclusion with the aid of Silver. Mother Cockleshell, who was veryshrewd, might have learned or guessed the girl's rascality, and wouldassuredly thwart her aims if possible. Also the gypsy-queen wouldprobably know a great deal about Pine in his character of IshmaelHearne, since she had been acquainted with him intimately during theearly part of his life. But, whatever she knew, or whatever she did notknow, Lambert considered that it would be wise to enlist her on hisside, as the mere fact that Chaldea was one of the opposite party wouldmake her fight like a wild cat. And as the whole affair had to do withthe gypsies, and as Gentilla Stanley was a gypsy, it was just as well toapply for her assistance. Nevertheless, Lambert was quite in the dark,as to what assistance could be rendered.

  In this way the young man made his plans, only to be thwarted by theweakness of his body. He could crawl out of bed and sit before the fire,but in spite of all his will-power, he could not crawl as far as thecamp. Baffled in this way, he decided to send a note asking MotherCockleshell to call on him, although he knew that if Chaldea learnedabout the visit--which she was almost certain to do--she would be placedon her guard. But this had to be risked, and Lambert, moreover, believedthat the old woman was quite equal to dealing with the girl. However,Fate took the matter out of his hands, and before he could even writethe invitation, a visitor arrived in the person of Miss Greeby, whosuggested a way out of the difficulty, by offering her services. Matterscame to a head within half an hour of her presenting herself in thesitting-room.

  Miss Greeby was quite her old breezy, masculine self, and her presencein the cottage was like a breath of moorland air blowing through thelanguid atmosphere of a hot-house. She was arrayed characteristically ina short-skirted, tailor-made gown of a brown hue and bound with brownleather, and wore in addition a man's cap, dog-skin gloves, and heavylaced-up boots fit to tramp miry country roads. With her freshcomplexion and red hair, and a large frame instinct with vitality, shelooked aggressively healthy, and Lambert with his failing life feltquite a weakling beside this magnificent goddess.

  "Hallo, old fellow," cried Miss Greeby in her best man-to-man style,"feeling chippy? Why, you do look a wreck, I must say. What's up?"

  "The fever's up and I'm down," replied Lambert, who was glad to see her,if only to distract his painful thoughts. "It's only a touch of malaria,my dear Clara. I shall be all right in a few days."

  "You're hopeful, I must say, Lambert. What about a doctor?"

  "I don't need one. Mrs. Tribb is nursing me."

  "Coddling you," muttered Miss Greeby, planting herself manfully in anopposite chair and crossing her legs in a gentlemanly manner. "Fresh airand exercise, beefsteaks and tankards of beer are what you need. DefyNature and you get the better of her. Kill or cure is my motto."

  "As I have strong reasons to remain alive, I shan't adopt yourprescription, Dr. Greeby," said Lambert, dryly. "What are you doing inthese parts? I thought you were shooting in Scotland."

  "So I was," admitted the visitor, frankly and laying her bludgeon--shestill carried it--across her knee. "But I grew sick of the sport.Knocked over the birds too easy, Lambert, so there was no fun. The birdsare getting as silly as the men."

  "Well, women knock them over easy enough."

  "That's what I mean," said Miss Greeby, vigorously. "It's a rottenworld, this, unless one can get away into the wilds."

  "Why don't you go there?"

  "Well," Miss Greeby leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, anddandled the bludgeon with both hands. "I thought I'd like a change fromthe rough and ready. This case of Pine's rather puzzled me, and so I'mon the trail as a detective."

  Lambert was rather startled. "That's considerably out of your line,Clara."

  Miss Greeby nodded. "Exactly, and so I'm indulging in the novelty. Onemust do something to entertain one's self, you know, Lambert. It struckme that the gypsies know a lot more about the matter than they chose tosay, so I came down yesterday, and put up at the Garvington Arms in thevillage. Here I'm going to stay until I can get at the root of thematter."

  "What root?"

  "I wish to learn who murdered Pine, poor devil."

  "Ah," Lambert smiled. "You wish to gain the reward."

  "Not me. I've got more money than I know what to do with, as it is.Silver is more anxious to get the cash than I am."

  "Silver! Have you seen him lately?"

  "A couple of days ago," Miss Greeby informed him easily. "He's mysecretary now, Lambert. Yes! The poor beast was chucked out of hiscomfortable billet by the death of Pine, and hearing that I wanted someone to write my letters and run my errands, and act like a tame catgenerally, he applied to me. Since I knew him pretty well through Pine,I took him on. He's a cunning little fox, but all right when he's keptin order. And I find him pretty useful, although I've only had him as asecretary for a fortnight."

  Lambert did not immediately reply. The news rather amazed him, as it hadalways been Miss Greeby's boast that she could manage her own business.It was queer that she should have changed her mind in this respect,although she was woman enough to e
xercise that very feminineprerogative. But the immediate trend of Lambert's thoughts were in thedirection of seeking aid from his visitor. He could not act himselfbecause he was sick, and he knew that she was a capable person indealing with difficulties. Also, simply for the sake of something to doshe had become an amateur detective and was hunting for the trail ofPine's assassin. It seemed to Lambert that it would not be a bad idea totell her of his troubles. She would, as he knew, be only too willing toassist, and in that readiness lay his hesitation. He did not wish, ifpossible, to lie under any obligation to Miss Greeby lest she shoulddemand in payment that he should become her husband. And yet he believedthat by this time she had overcome her desires in this direction. Tomake sure, he ventured on a few cautious questions.

  "We're friends, aren't we, Clara?" he asked, after a long pause.

  "Sure," said Miss Greeby, nodding heartily. "Does it need putting intowords?"

  "I suppose not, but what I mean is that we are pals." He used the wordwhich he knew most appealed to her masculine affectations.

  "Sure," said Miss Greeby again, and once more heartily. "Real, honestpals. I never believed in that stuff about the impossibility of a manand woman being pals unless there's love rubbish about the business. Atone time, Lambert, I don't deny but what I had a feeling of that sortfor you."

  "And now?" questioned the young man with an uneasy smile.

  "Now it's gone, or rather my love has become affection, and that's quitea different thing, old fellow. I want to see you happy, and you aren'tnow. I daresay you're still crying for the moon. Eh?" she looked at himsharply.

  "You asked me that before when you came here," said Lambert, slowly."And I refused to answer. I can answer now. The moon is quite beyond myreach, so I have dried my tears."

  Miss Greeby, who was lighting a cigarette, threw away the match andstared hard at his haggard face. "Well, I didn't expect to hear that,now we know how the moon--"

  "Call things by their right name," interrupted Lambert, sharply. "Agnesis now a widow, if that's what you mean."

  "It is, if you call Agnes a thing. Of course, you'll marry her since thebarrier has been removed?"

  "Meaning Pine? No! I'm not certain on that point. She is a rich widowand I'm a poor artist. In honor bound I can't allow her to lose hermoney by becoming my wife."

  Miss Greeby stared at the fire. "I heard about that beastly will," shesaid, frowning. "Horribly unfair, I call it. Still, I believed that youloved the moon--well, then, Agnes, since you wish us to be plain--andwould carry her off if you had the pluck."

  "I have never been accused of not having pluck, Clara. But there'sanother thing to be considered, and that's honor."

  "Oh, bosh!" cried Miss Greeby, with boyish vigor. "You love her and sheloves you, so why not marry?"

  "I'm not worth paying two million for, Clara."

  "You are, if she loves you."

  "She does and would marry me to-morrow if I would let her. Thehesitation is on my part."

  "More fool you. If I were in her position I'd soon overcome yourscruples."

  "I think not," said Lambert delicately.

  "Oh, I think so," she retorted. "A woman always gets her own way."

  "And sometimes wrecks continents to get it."

  "I'd wreck this one, anyhow," said Miss Greeby dryly. "However, we'repals, and if there's anything I can do--"

  "Yes, there is," said Lambert abruptly, and making up his mind to trusther, since she showed plainly that there was no chance of love on herpart destroying friendship. "I'm sick here and can't move. Let me engageyou to act on my behalf."

  "As what, if you don't mind my asking, Lambert?"

  "As what you are for the moment, a detective."

  "Ho!" said Miss Greeby in a guttural manner. "What's that?"

  "I want you to learn on my behalf, and as my deputy, who murdered Pine."

  "So that you can marry Agnes?"

  "No. The will has stopped my chances in that direction. Her two millionforms quite an insurmountable barrier between us now, as the fact of herbeing Pine's wife did formerly. Now you understand the situation, andthat I am prevented by honor from making her my wife, don't let us talkany more on that especial subject."

  "Right you are," assented Miss Greeby affably. "Only I'll say this, thatyou are too scrupulous, and if I can help you to marry Agnes I shall doso."

  "Why?" demanded Lambert bluntly.

  "Because I'm your pal and wish to see you happy. You won't be happy,like the Pears soap advertisement, until you get it. Agnes is the 'it.'"

  "Well, then, leave the matter alone, Clara," said Lambert, taking theprivilege of an invalid and becoming peevish. "As things stand, I cansee no chance of marrying Agnes without violating my idea of honor."

  "Then why do you wish me to help you?" demanded Miss Greeby sharply.

  "How do I wish you to help me, you mean."

  "Not at all. I know what you wish me to do; act as detective; I knowabout it, my dear boy."

  "You don't," retorted Lambert, again fractious. "But if you listen I'lltell you exactly what I mean."

  Miss Greeby made herself comfortable with a fresh cigarette, and noddedin an easy manner, "I'm all attention, old boy. Fire away!"

  "You must regard my confidence as sacred."

  "There's my hand on it. But I should like to know why you desire tolearn who murdered Pine."

  "Because if you don't track down the assassin, Agnes will get intotrouble."

  "Ho!" ejaculated Miss Greeby, guttural again. "Go on."

  Lambert wasted no further time in preliminary explanations, but plungedinto the middle of things. In a quarter of an hour his auditor wasacquainted with the facts of a highly unpleasant case, but exhibited nosurprise when she heard what her secretary had to do with the matter. Infact, she rather appeared to admire his acuteness in turning such shadyknowledge to his own advantage. At the same time, she considered thatAgnes had behaved in a decidedly weak manner. "If I'd been in her shoesI'd have fired the beast out in double-quick time," said Miss Greebygrimly. "And I'd have belted him over the head in addition."

  "Then he would have gone straight to the police."

  "Oh, no he wouldn't. One thousand reward against twenty-five thousandblackmail isn't good enough."

  "He won't get his blackmail," said Lambert, tightening his lips.

  "You bet he won't now that I've come into the matter. But there's nodenying he's got the whip-hand so far."

  "Agnes never wrote the letter," said Lambert quickly.

  "Oh, that goes without the saying, my dear fellow. Agnes knew that ifshe became a rich widow, your uneasy sense of honor would never let youmarry her. She had no reason to get rid of Pine on that score."

  "Or on any score, you may add."

  Miss Greeby nodded. "Certainly! You and Agnes should have got marriedand let Garvington get out of his troubles as best he could. That's whatI should have done, as I'm not an aristocrat, and can't see the use ofbecoming the sacrifice for a musty, fusty old family. However, Agnesmade her bargain and kept to it. She's all right, although other peoplemay be not of that opinion."

  "There isn't a man or woman who dare say a word against Agnes."

  "A good many will say lots of words, should what you have told me getinto print," rejoined Miss Greeby dryly.

  "I agree with you. Therefore do I ask for your assistance. What is bestto be done, Clara?"

  "We must get the letter from Silver and learn who forged it. Once thatis made plain, the truth will come to light, since the individual whoforged and sent that letter must have fired the second shot."

  "Quite so. But Silver won't give up the letter."

  "Oh, yes, he will. He's my secretary, and I'll make him."

  "Even as your secretary he won't," said Lambert, dubiously.

  "We'll see about that, old boy. I'll heckle and harry and worry Silveron to the gallows if he doesn't do what he's told."

  "The gallows. You don't think--"

  "Oh, I think nothing. It wa
s to Silver's interest that Pine should live,so I don't fancy he set the trap. It was to Chaldea's interest that Pineshould not live, since she loves you, and I don't think she is to blame.Garvington couldn't have done it, as he has lost a good friend in Pine,and--and--go on Lambert, suggest some one else."

  "I can't. And two out of three you mention were inside The Manor whenthe second shot was fired, so can prove an alibi."

  "I'm not bothering about who fired the second shot," said Miss Greebyleisurely, "but as to who wrote that letter. Once we find the forger,we'll soon discover the assassin."

  "True; but how are you going about it?"

  "I shall see Silver and force him to give me the letter."

  "If you can."

  "Oh, I'll manage somehow. The little beast's a coward, and I'll bullyhim into compliance." Miss Greeby spoke very confidently. "Then we'llsee the kind of paper the letter is written on, and there may be anenvelope which would show where it was posted. Of course, the forgermust be well acquainted with Agnes's handwriting."

  "That's obvious," said Lambert promptly. "Well, I suppose that your wayof starting the matter is the best. But we have only four days beforeSilver makes his move."

  "When I get the letter he won't make any move," reported Miss Greeby,and she looked very determined.

  "Let us hope so. But, Clara, before you return to town I wish you wouldsee Mother Cockleshell."

  "That old gypsy fortune-teller, who looks like an almshouse widow? Why?"

  "She hates Chaldea, and I suspect that Chaldea has something to do withthe matter of this conspiracy."

  "Ha!" Miss Greeby rubbed her aquiline nose. "A conspiracy. Perhaps youmay be right. But its reason?"

  Lambert colored. "Chaldea wants me to marry her, you know."

  "The minx! I know she does. I warned you against having her to sit foryou, Lambert. But there's no sense in your suggestion, my boy. It wasn'tany catch for her to get Pine killed and leave his wife free to marryyou."

  "No. And yet--and yet--hang it," the young man clutched his hair indesperation and glared at the fire, "I can't see any motive."

  "Nor can I. Unless it is to be found in the City."

  "Gypsies are more lawless than City men," observed the other quickly,"and Hearne would have enemies rather than Pine."

  "I don't agree with you," said Miss Greeby, rising and getting ready togo away. "Hearne was nobody: Pine was a millionaire. Successful men haveenemies all over the shop."

  "At the inquest it was said that Pine had no enemies."

  "Oh, rubbish. A strong man like that couldn't make such a fortunewithout exciting envy. I'll bet that his assassin is to be found in afrock coat and a silk hat. However, I'll look up Mother Cockleshell, asit is just as well to know what she thinks of this pretty gypsy hussy ofyours."

  "Not of mine. I don't care for her in the least."

  "As if that mattered. There is always one who loves and one who isloved, as Heine says, and that is the cause of all life's tragedies. Ofthis tragedy maybe, although I think some envious stockbroker may haveshot Pine as a too successful financial rival. However, we shall seeabout it."

  "And see about another thing, Clara," said Lambert quickly. "Call onAgnes and tell her that she need not worry over Silver. She expects theDeluge in a few days, remember."

  "Write and tell her that I have the case in hand and that she needn'ttrouble about Silver. I'll straighten him out."

  "I fear you are too hopeful."

  "I don't fear anything of the sort. I'll break his neck if he doesn'tobey me. I wouldn't hesitate to do it, either."

  Lambert ran his eyes over her masculine personality and laughed. "Iquite believe that, Clara. But, I say, won't you have some tea beforeyou go?"

  "No, thanks. I don't eat between meals."

  "Afternoon tea is a meal."

  "Nonsense. It's a weakness. I'm not Garvington. By the way, where ishe?"

  "In Paris, but he returns in a few days."

  "Then don't let him meddle with this matter, or he'll put things wrong."

  "I shall allow no one but yourself to meddle, Clara, Garvington shan'tknow a single thing."

  Miss Greeby nodded. "Right. All we wish kept quiet would be in thepapers if Garvington gets hold of our secrets. He's a loose-tonguedlittle glutton. Well, good-bye, old chap, and do look after yourself.Good people are scarce."

  Lambert gripped her large hand. "I'm awfully obliged to you, Clara."

  "Wait until I do something before you say that, old son," she laughedand strode towards the door. "By the way, oughtn't I to send the doctorin?"

  "No. Confound the doctor! I'm all right. You'll see me on my legs in afew days."

  "Then we can work together at the case. Keep your flag flying, old chap,for I'm at the helm to steer the bark." And with this nautical farewellshe went off with a manly stride, whistling a gay tune.

  Left alone, the invalid looked into the fire, and wondered if he hadbeen right to trust her. After some thought, he concluded that it wasthe best thing he could have done, since, in his present helpless state,he needed some one to act as his deputy. And there was no doubt thatMiss Greeby had entirely overcome the passion she had once entertainedfor him.

  "I hope Agnes will think so also," thought Lambert, when he began aletter to the lady. "She was always rather doubtful of Clara."