CHAPTER IX
THE HIGHER BURGLARY
Mr. Rookley swung his heavy body to and fro on his heels and toes, andpursed up his official mouth.
"Mr. Robinson," he said, "I must warn you that you are playing anexceedingly dangerous game."
"May I suggest," Westerham remarked, more bluntly than before, "thatyou are doing precisely the same?"
"What do you mean, sir?"
"I mean that you are not keeping strictly to your duty. You seem to betaking upon yourself a great many things which it is not your businessto do--certainly you are assuming a great many prerogatives that youhave no right to."
"What do you mean, sir?" reiterated the detective.
"Tut, tut, my dear sir," said Westerham, "sit down and try to composeyourself, while I endeavour to explain the precise situation.
"First," Westerham continued, emphasising the "first" by touchinghis left forefinger with his right, "although I am not very muchacquainted, thank goodness, with criminal procedure in this country,I am at least aware of this--that the law of England regards everyman as innocent until he has been proved guilty. But you, under somemisapprehension of your duties, appear to assume that I am guilty untilI have proved myself innocent.
"Now, of what am I guilty? Nothing except of absenting myself frommy rooms, which it is my innocent privilege and pleasure to do. Youinquire of my antecedents. What do they matter to you? They are mybusiness alone.
"However," he went on, eyeing the now disconcerted Mr. Rookley, "inorder that you may not be too harsh in your judgments I will enlightenyour ignorance to a certain extent. I came here on the introduction ofLord Dunton, who is a most intimate friend. I paid six months' rent inadvance. I furnished these rooms at no small expense, and I purchasedone of the best motor cars on the market.
"Now I wish particularly to draw your attention to the fact that I didnot offer to pay for any of these things by cheque. I paid for them allout of hand by bank-note. In fact, you will see for yourself that sinceI took up my abode here I must have spent perhaps a couple of thousandpounds; all of which I have paid out in hard cash.
"Were these bank-notes stolen? Certainly not. Had they been, the factmust inevitably have been discovered. No, strange as it may seem toyou, I came by those notes quite honestly.
"It is not your business to do so, but if you care to take the troubleyou are at perfect liberty to trace them. However, to save youunnecessary labour, I may as well tell you that those notes were paidover to me by Lord Dunton, in return for a cheque which I gave him. WhyI chose to conduct my business on those lines is my own affair.
"More than this I have no intention of revealing. You are, of course,at perfect liberty to make every inquiry you please of Lord Dunton, butI fancy you will obtain very small satisfaction from him."
"Of course," said Mr. Rookley, desirous of putting on an appearancewhich would suggest that he was not entirely baffled--"of course LordDunton may refuse to give any information, for the simple reason thatsuch an explanation may be inconvenient to himself."
"I do not quite follow you," remarked Westerham.
"What I intended to imply," said Mr. Rookley, "is that your friendshipmay not be so welcome to Lord Dunton as Lord Dunton's friendship is toyou."
"I think you are very insolent, Mr. Rookley," said Westerham.
"Possibly," answered the man from Scotland Yard; "but I think I havesome justification for being rude. Now, although it is true thatI cannot ascertain where you slept last night, I am at any rateacquainted with some of your movements."
Westerham started. This was growing a little more awkward than he hadbargained for. It even occurred to him that it might be foolish towithhold too much information from Mr. Rookley. But, on the other hand,if he revealed his identity his troubles would be greatly increased,for it would inevitably lead to a break with Melun and that woulddouble his difficulties in probing the mystery of the Premier's secret.
"Yes," Mr. Rookley went on, with a return to his old superiority andease of manner; "you attended the Premier's reception last night"--hepaused that his words might have more dramatic force--"and you wentunder the auspices of Captain Melun."
"Indeed," said Westerham, "you seem to be remarkably well informed."
"I am," agreed Mr. Rookley, shutting his mouth with a snap.
"I am," he continued, "and I know this--that either you must bea very foolish, a very ignorant, or a very bad young man to havehad the audacity to attend Lord Penshurst's reception under such aguardianship."
"It is really very kind of you to make such distinctions," laughedWesterham. "Only, as it happens, there is another alternative whichyou have not suggested. It is not my business to point it out to you,but I will give you the opportunity of discovering it for yourself. Iknow quite enough of Captain Melun to prevent my pleading ignorance orfolly in the cultivation of his acquaintance; on the other hand, if yousuggest that I am apparently enjoying his friendship because my ideasof life are the same as his, then you are wrong again. Can you think ofany other reason for my being with Captain Melun?"
"None," said the detective, with what was meant to be a mostsignificant air.
"Then," said Westerham, "suppose we adjourn this conversation _sinedie_. It affords me very little pleasure, and apparently gives youuncommonly little satisfaction. Before you go, however, I am afraid Imust add to your troubles. I assure you that I have not the faintestnotion who broke into my rooms and who gagged my valet, any more thanI have the remotest idea what the motive could possibly be. There werea good many things, scarf-pins and the like, lying about all over theplace, but nothing has been stolen."
"Oh," said the detective with deep meaning, "but suppose they werelooking for something else quite other than articles of value--I shouldsay of intrinsic value. Suppose that someone had a notion that hewould like to recover something you had no right to be possessed of;or suppose that the person who broke in imagined that he might findsomething among your papers which would be of use to him?"
"Now, my dear sir," said Westerham, "I do not wish to insult you, butreally you are a very poor judge of human character. Do you suppose Ishould not know if whatever I had no right to be possessed of had gone?Do you think that if some paper or papers which might give someoneelse a hold over me had been taken I should not also by this time beacquainted with the fact? And in either of those cases, should I beso entirely indifferent to the matter as I am now? No, I assure you Ithink that there has been some mistake."
"Now look here, Mr. Robinson," said the detective, with a more friendlyair, "let me ask a straight question. Do you suspect that Captain Melunhas had a hand in this?"
"No," replied Westerham, with emphasis, "I do not. I feel certain thathe has had nothing to do with it."
"Is there no one else, then, whom you can possibly conceive guilty ofsuch an outrage?"
Westerham gave himself up to a few minutes of genuine hard thinking.
"No," he said at last slowly; "I can think of no one in the world whowould have any object in treating my rooms in this way."
"Then surely," cried the detective, "if it is a mystery to you, youwould like the matter cleared up?"
"Quite so," said Westerham, with a smile, "cleared up with theassistance of Mr. Rookley. No, thank you very much for your kind offer,but I will clear the matter up for myself. In the meantime, as I seeno reason why you should detain me, I will not detain you. Allow me towish you good-day."
Without another word he walked into his bedroom and shut the doorsharply.
When Westerham told Rookley that he had no conception of the identityof his mysterious visitor he spoke the truth; nor, cudgel his brains ashe might, could he advance any theory which satisfied him. It seemedthat the best thing he could do was to send for Melun. The captain, hereflected, was more acquainted with this sort of dealing than he was,and might possibly throw some light on the matter. So for Melun he sent.
The captain came with a bad grace at about eight o'clock. He hadalready seen in th
e evening papers various accounts of the ransackingof Westerham's rooms.
Westerham began by detailing to him the conversation with thedetective, to every word of which the captain listened with a greatattention, here and there putting in a question which quite convincedSir Paul that Melun knew nothing of the affair.
However, he was determined to see what Melun would say if he asked himpoint blank whether he had been playing the burglar.
Upon the question being put to him, Melun laughed quite easily andshrugged his shoulders.
"My dear fellow," he said, "once bitten, twice shy. My attempt toburgle you on the _Gigantic_ was not so successful as to tempt meto repeat the performance. Besides, I am a fairly good judge of myfellow-men, and I have given up all hope of discovering anything inyour past or your present which would lead me to the delectable stateof being able to dictate to you."
"Thank you," said Westerham, "that is at least frank."
"I am learning," returned Melun, "that it is scarcely worth while to beanything else with you."
"Thank you again," said Westerham. "And now suppose I ask you whetheryou can throw any light on the subject?"
"Now," said Melun, "you are asking a really sensible question. I can.What is more, I think I can completely clear up the mystery for you."
"So you did have a hand in it, after all?" cried Westerham.
"Well, yes, I had a hand in it; but I took no part in the actualburgling."
Sir Paul stared at him in amazement. "What do you mean?" he demanded.
"First of all," said Melun, "what was the description of themysterious stranger given by your valet?"
"Very tall, very thin, with reddish hair and reddish moustache, and, sofar as he could see through the mask on his face, grey eyes. His hands,as Blyth had good reason to notice, were very large and sunburnt, withuncommonly well-kept nails."
Melun nodded his head. "Good," he said, "the description talliesexactly with the gentleman I suspected of having been here thisafternoon.
"You may have noticed," he continued, "that one of the men most inevidence at Downing Street last night was the Premier's privatesecretary, the Hon. Claude Hilden."
"Yes," said Westerham, eagerly, "what of him?"
"He burgled your rooms," said Melun, calmly.
"What!" Westerham jumped out of his chair and stood over Melun. "Whatdo you mean? Why, it is impossible. If he did that it must have been byLord Penshurst's orders, and what, in the name of Heaven, could theyhave expected to find here?"
"Exactly what Hilden came to find--what he did find, and what he tookaway with him."
"In the name of Heaven, what?" asked Westerham, to whom things werebecoming a little too complicated for him to follow.
"What Hilden found," said Melun, slowly and precisely, "were LadyKathleen's diamonds."
"Lady Kathleen's diamonds!"
"Yes," answered Melun, smiling as though with intense relish of aninfinitely fine jest, "Lady Kathleen's diamonds.
"They were missed shortly after your departure, and you were atonce suspected of being the author of the theft. And therefore LordPenshurst, knowing that Bagley had made one attempt before, and that Iwas connected with Bagley, at first suspected me.
"In fact, at about two in the morning, Hilden came around to my roomswith the Premier. They roused me from sleep and taxed me with thetheft, Lord Penshurst threatening that if I did not give them up hewould certainly not accede to the other terms which I am asking of him.
"I told him quite frankly that I did not take them but that I stronglysuspected you."
"You scoundrel!" cried Westerham.
In his sudden rage he would have seized Melun by the throat; but Melun,whom Westerham had never seen more calm and self-possessed, pushed hishand aside and said, "Softly, softly! you had better hear me out."
"Go on!"
"I told them," continued Melun, "that it would be folly to rouse you asthey had aroused me. In fact, I told them that you were a strong manarmed--that any attack made on you or your rooms in the small hourswould inevitably lead to one of them being damaged, which would onlyresult in awkward police-court proceedings and painful revelations."
"You scoundrel! You scoundrel!" cried Westerham again.
"Wait a minute, my dear fellow; hear me out," pleaded Melun. "You mayconsider that you have played the game with me, but that is not my ownview of things. It was necessary to teach you a lesson. In your nice,strong, masterful way you were under the impression that you had todeal with a pack of cowards and curs."
"So I have," said Westerham, grimly.
"Perhaps; but one of them is not quite so impotent as you judged him,and if you reflect a moment you will see, at any rate, that you are atpresent in a rather awkward predicament. However, to get on with mytale.
"I had you watched this morning, and as soon as you left your rooms Islipped in here with the diamonds."
"But you said you had not taken them," said Westerham.
"So I did, but I took them none the less. I got rid of your man for aminute on some pretext, and just jammed them into the pocket of thecoat you had worn the night before. Then I at once communicated withDowning Street. I could not tell them where the diamonds actually were,for that would have given me away, but I knew that Lord Penshurst andHilden were sufficiently desperate to turn your place upside down tofind them. They did find them, for Hilden telephoned the fact to mehalf an hour before you sent for me."
"Good Lord!" said Westerham, and held up his hand for silence. Hewished to think. Matters were becoming more and more difficult tounderstand. Lord Penshurst went in dread of Melun--so great a dreadthat he even had to confide in his nephew and his private secretarywhen Melun pressed him too hard. It was evident, too, that Melun's gripof the Premier must be of the most remorseless kind, or such a man asLord Penshurst would never stoop to countenance such deeds on Melun'spart.
This was bad enough, but the whole affair assumed a far more sinisteraspect when Westerham reflected that Lady Kathleen must of necessity beacquainted with Lord Penshurst's expedition in the small hours, and ofher cousin's burglarious exploits in the afternoon.
"No wonder," groaned Westerham to himself, "she did not trust me. Nowonder! No wonder! Oh, the shame of it! This is the hardest part ofall--to be suspected, and to be suspected of such a mean and dastardlything as this."
"Good Heavens!" he cried aloud, "but for the fact that I should behung for it, which would unfortunately spoil my chances in certaindirections, I think I could shoot you on the spot."
"Just so," said Melun, "but I feel safe in the knowledge that youwon't."
"I'll tell you what I will do," said Westerham, "and I have everyjustification for doing it--I will go back on my agreement with youhere and now. In half an hour I will be in Downing Street and exposethe whole thing. Yes, by Heavens! And if Lord Penshurst won't move inthe matter himself, then I will see to it that you are prosecuted."
"No, you won't," said Melun. "The question really involved is a matterof many men's lives, and one man's life, even yours, will not stand inthe way of this secret being kept."
"Lord Penshurst is no murderer, even though you may be," criedWesterham, indignantly.
"Perhaps not, my dear sir, perhaps not; but, at the same time, thesituation is such that he cannot possible prosecute."
"What do you mean?" thundered Westerham, again laying his hand roughlyon Melun's shoulder.
"Pardon me," Melun answered, shaking himself free, "but that is mybusiness--and Lord Penshurst's business."
* * * * *
Poor little Lady Kathleen sobbed till she could sob no more. Thenshe lifted her head wearily, mopped her swollen eyes, and, gatheringherself together, walked slowly back to the Hall.
She went at once to her father's room, to find the Premier in ascarcely less pitiable frame of mind than she was in herself.
The old man was sitting at his desk, his head buried in his hands,though the table was littered with papers requirin
g urgent attention.
Kathleen walked up behind him, and, placing one of her hands on hishead, stroked his hair gently.
"Poor father!" she said.
"Heaven help us, my dear!" said Lord Penshurst, and he stood up andtook his daughter in his arms, holding her almost as though he wereafraid she might be taken from him.
After a little while he became calmer, and began to speak of thedreadful thing which weighed so upon both their spirits.
But even while he spoke of it he looked cautiously about, as though hewere fearful that other ears might be listening.
"So you see, little girl," he said, "that your very kindly estimateof the red-headed man Robinson was entirely wrong. He didn't look likea scoundrel, but he is one. He is not even a scoundrel of Melun'sdescription. Upon my soul, I think I prefer the blackmailer to the merethief."
"Do you think," asked Kathleen, searching her father's face, "that,after all, this is not some of Melun's work?"
"Why should it be?" returned her father.
"I don't know, I am sure," said Kathleen, doubtfully, "except that Ihave a sort of feeling that it is."
"Why?" asked her father.
Then, for the first time, Lady Kathleen told him of her meeting withBagley in Hyde Park.
"Oh, my dear! my dear!" cried her father, taking her in his armsagain. "How many more sacrifices are you prepared to make for me? If Ihad not confided in you I do not know what I should have done. I assureyou that it is only because I dread the awful consequences that wouldcome if my secret were discovered that has prevented me from takingmy life. But, as you know, the shedding of my blood would mean theshedding of blood all over the world. Sometimes I think the dread of itis driving me out of my mind.
"And there does not seem to be any hope of getting the thing back--nohope of it at all. By George! I wish we were back in the good old days.Then I could put that Melun on the rack. I'd get the secret out of himsomehow.
"But he is too slippery. I even made arrangements to have him watched,but he beats our men all the time. He is here to-day and goneto-morrow. He appears and he vanishes--Heaven only knows how.
"And now, to add to our perplexities, we have got this red-hairedgiant, who seems to be even more unscrupulous than Melun. Certainly heis more bold. To my way of thinking, it was only a bold stroke to winyour confidence that he dealt with Bagley as he did."
"Oh, father!" cried Kathleen, "I cannot believe that."
"Nonsense, my dear. Do you suppose that a man who is hand in glove withMelun comes across you and Bagley in the Park by accident? Why, it isone chance against a hundred million."
"But still it is a chance," urged Kathleen.
"My dear little girl," said the Premier, gently, while he patted hercheek, "I am afraid that you are of a very trusting disposition, thoughthat has certainly been to the advantage of your poor old father.
"No, no!" he went on. "Depend on it, he was there by arrangement.
"Besides, how otherwise should he know who you were? And you say hesuggested that he should drive you back to Downing Street?
"Gad! it almost makes one admire the man to think of his cool cheek. Todrive you back to Downing Street indeed!"
"And yet, father, in spite of it all, I really believe the man'shonest. You see, you cut me short. I have something else to tell youyet."
Lord Penshurst eyed Kathleen uneasily.
"What is it now?" he asked, with a sad little laugh.
"Why," said Lady Kathleen, and for a moment she felt unaccountablynervous and shy, "he was here this afternoon."
"What!" roared the Premier; "he was here this afternoon? Why did younot tell me? I would have had the fellow flogged out of the place."
"Gently, father, gently," urged Lady Kathleen, "aren't you speakingrather loud?"
"I suppose I am," said Lord Penshurst, bitterly. "But tell me about it."
In a very few words Lady Kathleen outlined her interview with Westerhamin the Deer Park.
"You know, father," she concluded, "I almost believe he was speakingthe truth when he said that he was quite different from the man webelieved him to be."
"Rubbish, my dear," snapped the Premier, "he is only a gentlemanlyscoundrel--that is all.
"I wonder how long we shall be able to keep Hilden in ignorance ofwhat is really the matter," he continued. "The dear chap has behavedsplendidly--did everything I asked him without a murmur, even to theextent of burglary this afternoon. By the way, he has got your diamondsback. He has just 'phoned me from Downing Street."
"Oh, let them go! Let them go!" cried Lady Kathleen, with intenseweariness. "Their presence seems only to make matters worse."
Suddenly she threw herself into her father's arms.
"Oh, father, father!" she cried. "Let us do everything we can. Don'tlet us give up hope. We have still got a fortnight left in which to getthat dreadful secret back. Don't let us give up hope. I would ratherdisguise myself and go out and search for it than have to endure whatit means if we fail."
"Don't cry, my dear. Don't cry. Believe me, I am doing everything Ipossibly can without giving anything away. But already it seems tome--perhaps I only imagine things--that the servants and people suspectthat something is wrong.
"That is why we have got to be brave and look cheerful. I know itwill be dreadful for you to have to look after the house party--andthe people come to-morrow. Still, it cannot be helped. We have got togo through with it, but after the dance we will go back at once, andthen I assure you that if it costs me my life I will make that Melundisgorge."
Kathleen smiled at her father through her tears.
"You dear old fire-eater," she said. "I really believe you would."
"My daughter," the Premier said, "there has never been a murdererin this family to my knowledge; but I swear to you that if I have tosettle the scoundrel myself you shall not marry Melun. Heavens! Theprice of silence is too big altogether."
The Crime Club Page 9
