Cleek: the Man of the Forty Faces

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by Charles Felix


  CHAPTER XVI

  It had but just gone five when Narkom walked into the little bar parlourand found him standing there, looking out on the quaint, old-fashionedbowling green that lay all steeped in sunshine and zoned with the frothof pear and apple blossoms thick piled above the time-stained bricks ofan enclosing wall.

  "What a model of punctuality you are, old chap," the superintendentsaid, nodding approvingly. "Wait a moment while I go and order tea, andthen we will get down to business in real earnest. Shan't be long."

  "Pray, don't hurry yourself on my account, Mr. Narkom," returned Cleek,"coming down to earth" out of a mental airship. "I could do with anotherhour of that"--nodding toward the view--"and still wonder where the timehad gone. These quaint old inns, which the march of what we are pleasedto call 'Progress' is steadily crowding off the face of the land, arealways deeply interesting to me; I love them. What a day! What apicture! What a sky! As blue as what Dollops calls the 'Merry GeraniumSea.' I'd give a Jew's eye for a handful of those apple blossoms--theyare divine!"

  Narkom hastened from the room without replying. The strain of poetryunderlying the character of this strange, inscrutable man, his amazinglove of Nature, his moments of almost womanish weakness and sentiment,astonished and mystified him. It was as if a hawk had acquired theutterly useless trick of fluting like a nightingale, and being himselfwholly without imagination, he could not comprehend it in the smallestdegree.

  When he returned a few minutes later, however, the idealist seemed tohave simmered down into the materialist, the extraordinary to havebecome merged in the ordinary, for he found his famous ally no longerstudying the beauties of Nature, but giving his whole attention to thesordid commonplaces of man, for he was standing before a glaringlyprinted bill one of many that were tacked upon the walls, which setforth in amazing pictures and double-leaded type the wonders that wereto be seen daily and nightly at Olympia, where, for a month past, "VanZant's Royal Belgian Circus and World-famed Menagerie" had been holdingforth to "Crowded and delighted audiences." Much was made of two "starturns" upon this lurid bill: "Mademoiselle Marie de Zanoni, thebeautiful and peerless bare-back equestrienne, the most daring ladyrider in the universe," for the one; and for the other, "ChevalierAdrian di Roma, king of the animal world, with his great aggregation ofsavage and ferocious wild beasts, including the famous man-eatingAfrican lion, Nero, the largest and most ferocious animal of its speciesin captivity." And under this latter announcement there was a picture ofa young and handsome man, literally smothered with medals, lying at fulllength, with his arms crossed and his head in the wide-open jaws of asnarling, wild-eyed lion.

  "My dear chap, you really do make me believe that there actually is sucha thing as instinct," said Narkom, as he came in. "Fancy your selectingthat particular bill out of all the others in the room! What an abnormalindividual you are!"

  "Why? Has it anything to do with the case you have in hand?"

  "Anything to do with it? My dear fellow, it _is_ 'the case.' I can'timagine what drew your attention to it."

  "Can't you?" said Cleek, with a half-smile. Then he stretched forth hishand and touched the word "Nero" with the tip of his forefinger. "Thatdid. Things awaken a man's memory occasionally, Mr. Narkom, and--Tellme, isn't that the beast there was such a stir about in the newspapers afortnight or so ago--the lion that crushed the head of a man in fullview of the audience?"

  "Yes," replied Narkom, with a slight shudder. "Awful thing, wasn't it?Gave me the creeps to read about it. The chap who was killed, poorbeggar, was a mere boy, not twenty, son of the Chevalier di Romahimself. There was a great stir about it. Talk of the authoritiesforbidding the performance, and all that sort of thing. They never did,however, for on investigation--Ah, the tea at last, thank fortune. Come,sit down, my dear fellow, and we'll talk whilst we refresh ourselves.Landlady, see that we are not disturbed, will you, and that nobody isadmitted but the parties I mentioned?"

  "Clients?" queried Cleek, as the door closed and they were alonetogether.

  "Yes. One, Mlle. Zelie, the 'chevalier's' only daughter, a slack-wireartist; the other, Signor Scarmelli, a trapeze performer, who is thelady's fiance."

  "Ah, then our friend the chevalier is not so young as the picture on thebill would have us believe he is."

  "No, he is not. As a matter of fact, he is considerably past forty, andis--or, rather, was, up to six months ago, a widower with threechildren, two sons and a daughter."

  "I suppose," said Cleek, helping himself to a buttered scone, "I am toinfer from what you say that at the period you mentioned, six monthsago, the intrepid gentleman showed his courage yet more forcibly bytaking a second wife? Young or old?"

  "Young," said Narkom in reply. "Very young, not yet four-and-twenty, infact, and very, very beautiful. That is she who is 'featured' on thebill as the star of the equestrian part of the programme: 'Mlle. Mariede Zanoni.' So far as I have been able to gather, the affair was a lovematch. The lady, it appears, had no end of suitors, both in and out ofthe profession; it has even been hinted that she could, had she been sominded, have married an impressionable young Austrian nobleman ofindependent means who was madly in love with her; but she appears tohave considered it preferable to become 'an old man's darling,' so tospeak, and to have selected the middle-aged chevalier rather thansomeone whose age is nearer her own."

  "Nothing new in that, Mr. Narkom. Young women before Mlle. Marie deZanoni's day have been known to love elderly men sincerely: young Mrs.Bawdrey, in the case of 'The Nine-fingered Skeleton,' is an example ofthat. Still, such marriages are not common, I admit, so when they occurone naturally looks to see if there may not be 'other considerations' atthe bottom of the attachment. Is the chevalier well-to-do? Has heexpectations of any kind?"

  "To the contrary; he has nothing but the salary he earns--which is by nomeans so large as the public imagines; and as he comes of a long line ofcircus performers, all of whom died early and poor, 'expectations,' asyou put it, do not enter into the affair at all. Apparently the lady didmarry him for love of him, as she professes and as he imagines;although, if what I hear is true, it would appear that she has latelyoutgrown that love; in short, that a Romeo more suitable to her age hasrecently joined the show in the person of a rider called Signor AntonioMartinelli; that he has fallen desperately in love with her, and that--"

  He bit off his words short and rose to his feet. The door had openedsuddenly to admit a young man and a young woman, who entered in a stateof nervous excitement. "Ah, my dear Mr. Scarmelli, you and Miss Zelieare most welcome," continued the superintendent. "My friend and I werethis moment talking about you."

  Cleek glanced across the room, and, as was customary with him, made uphis mind instantly. The girl, despite her association with the arena,was a modest, unaffected little thing of about eighteen; the man was astraight-looking, clear-eyed, boyish-faced young fellow of abouteight-and-twenty; well, but by no means flashily, dressed, and carryinghimself with the air of one who respects himself and demands the respectof others. He was evidently an Englishman, despite his Italian _nom detheatre_, and Cleek decided out of hand that he liked him.

  "We can shelve 'George Headland' in this instance, Mr. Narkom," he said,as the superintendent led forward the pair for the purpose ofintroducing them, and suffered himself to be presented in the name ofCleek.

  The effect of this was electrical; would, in fact, had he been a vainman, have been sufficient to gratify him to the fullest, for the girl,with a little "Oh!" of amazement, drew back and stood looking at himwith a sort of awe that rounded her eyes and parted her lips, while theman leaned heavily upon the back of a convenient chair and looked andacted as one utterly overcome.

  "Cleek!" he repeated, after a moment's despairful silence. "You, sir,are that great man? This is a misfortune, indeed."

  "A misfortune, my friend? Why a 'misfortune,' pray? Do you think theriddle you have brought is beyond my powers?"

  "Oh, no; not that--never that!" he made reply. "If there is any one mani
n the world who could get at the bottom of it, could solve the mysteryof the lion's change, the lion's smile, you are that man, sir, you. Thatis the misfortune: that you could do it, and yet--I cannot expect it,cannot avail myself of this great opportunity. Look! I am doing it allon my own initiative, sir--all for the sake of Zelie and that dear,lovable old chap, her father. I have saved fifty-eight pounds, Mr.Cleek. I had hoped that that might tempt a clever detective to take upthe case; but what is such a sum to such a man as you?"

  "If that is all that stands in the way, don't let it worry you, my goodfellow," said Cleek, with a smile. "Put your fifty-eight pounds in yourpocket against your wedding-day, and--good luck to you. I'll take thecase for nothing. Now then, what is it? What the dickens did you meanjust now when you spoke about 'the lion's change' and 'the lion'ssmile'? What lion--Nero? Here, sit down and tell me all about it."

  "There is little enough to tell, Heaven knows," said young Scarmelli,with a sigh, accepting the invitation after he had gratefully wrungCleek's hand, and his fiancee, with a burst of happy tears, had caughtit up as it slipped from his and had covered it with thankful kisses."That, Mr. Cleek, is where the greatest difficulty lies--there is solittle to explain that has any bearing upon the matter at all. It isonly that the lion--Nero, that is, the chevalier's special pride andspecial pet--seems to have undergone some great and inexplicable change,as though he is at times under some evil spell, which lasts but a momentand yet makes that moment a tragical one. It began, no one knows why norhow, two weeks ago, when, without hint or warning, he killed the personhe loved best in all the world--the chevalier's eldest son. Doubtlessyou have heard of that?"

  "Yes," said Cleek. "But what you are now telling me sheds a new lightupon the matter. Am I to understand, then, that all that talk, on thebills and in the newspapers, about the lion being a savage and adangerous one is not true, and that he really is attached to his owner,and his owner's family?"

  "That is the truth," replied Scarmelli; "Nero is, in fact, the gentlest,most docile, most intelligent beast of his kind living. In short, sir,there's not a 'bite' in him; and, added to that, he is over thirty yearsold. Zelie--Miss di Roma--will tell you that he was born in captivity;that from his earliest moment he has been the pet of her family; that hewas, so to speak, raised with her and her brothers; that, as children,they often slept with him; that he will follow those he loves like anydog, fight for them, protect them, let them tweak his ears and pull histail without showing the slightest resentment, even though they mayactually hurt him. Indeed, he is so general a favourite, Mr. Cleek, thatthere isn't an attendant connected with the show who would not, and,indeed, has not at some time, put his head in the beast's mouth, just asthe chevalier does in public, certain that no harm could possibly comeof the act.

  "You may judge, then, sir, what a shock, what a horrible surprise it waswhen the tragedy of two weeks ago occurred. Often, to add zest to theperformance, the chevalier varies it by allowing his children to puttheir heads into Nero's mouth instead of doing so himself, merely makinga fake of it that he has the lion under such control that he willrespect any command given by him. That is what happened on that night.Young Henri was chosen to put his head into Nero's mouth, and did sowithout fear or hesitation. He took the beast's jaws and pulled themapart, and laid his head within them, as he had done a hundred timesbefore; but of a sudden an appalling, an uncanny, thing happened. It wasas though some supernatural power laid hold of the beast and made athing of horror of what a moment before had been a noble-looking animal;for suddenly a strange hissing noise issued from its jaws, its lipscurled upward until it smiled--smiled, Mr. Cleek!--oh, the ghastliest,most awful, most blood-curdling smile imaginable--and then, with a sortof mingled snarl and bark, it clamped its jaws together and crushed theboy's head as though it were an egg-shell!"

  He put up his hands and covered his eyes as if to shut out someappalling vision, and for a moment or two nothing was heard but the lowsobbing of the victim's sister.

  "As suddenly as that change had come over the beast, Mr. Cleek,"Scarmelli went on presently, "just so suddenly it passed, and it was thedocile, affectionate animal it had been for years. It seemed tounderstand that some harm had befallen its favourite--for Henri was itsfavourite--and, curling itself up beside his body, it licked his handsand moaned disconsolately in a manner almost human. That's all there isto tell, sir, save that at times the horrid change, the appalling smile,repeat themselves when either the chevalier or his son bend to put ahead within its jaws, and but for their watchfulness and quickness thetragedy of that other awful night would surely be repeated. Sir, it isnot natural; I know now, as surely as if the lion itself had spoken,that someone is at the bottom of this ghastly thing, that some humanagency is at work, some unknown enemy of the chevalier's is doingsomething, God alone knows what or why, to bring about his death as hisson's was brought about."

  And here, for the first time, the chevalier's daughter spoke.

  "Ah, tell him all, Jim, tell him all," she said, in her pretty brokenEnglish. "Monsieur, may the good God in heaven forgive me, if I wrongher; but--but--Ah, Monsieur Cleek, sometimes I feel that she, mystepmother, and that man, that 'rider' who knows not how to ride as theartist should--monsieur, I cannot help it, but I feel that they are atthe bottom of it."

  "Yes, but why?" queried Cleek. "I have heard of your father's secondmarriage, mademoiselle, and of this Signor Antonio Martinelli, to whomyou allude. Mr. Narkom has told me. But why should you connect these twopersons with this inexplicable thing? Does your father do so, too?"

  "Oh, no! Oh, no!" she answered excitedly. "He does not even know that wesuspect, Jim and I. He loves her, monsieur. It would kill him to doubther."

  "Then why should you?"

  "Because I cannot help it, monsieur. God knows, I would if I could, forI care for her dearly--I am grateful to her for making my father happy.My brothers, too, cared for her. We believed she loved him; we believedit was because of that she married him. And yet--and yet--Ah, monsieur,how can I fail to feel as I do when this change in the lion came withthat man's coming? And she--ah, monsieur, she is always with him. Whydoes she curry favour of him and his rich friend?"

  "He has a rich friend, then?"

  "Yes, monsieur. The company was in difficulties; Monsieur van Zant, theproprietor, could not make it pay, and it was upon the point ofdisbanding. But, suddenly, this indifferent performer, this rider whois, after all, but a poor amateur and not fit to appear with a companyof trained artists, suddenly this Signor Martinelli comes to Monsieurvan Zant to say that, if he will engage him, he has a rich friend--oneSenor Sperati, a Brazilian coffee planter--who will 'back' the show withhis money and buy a partnership in it. Of course, M. van Zant accepted;and since then this Senor Sperati has travelled everywhere with us, hashad the entree like one of us, and his friend, the bad rider, has fairlybewitched my stepmother, for she is ever with him, ever with them both,and--and--Ah, mon Dieu! the lion smiles, and my people die! Why does it'smile' for no others? Why is it only they--my father, my brother--theyalone?"

  "Is that a fact?" said Cleek, turning to young Scarmelli. "You say thatall connected with the circus have so little fear of the beast that evenattendants sometimes do this foolhardy trick. Does the lion never'smile' for any of those?"

  "Never, Mr. Cleek--never under any circumstances. Nor does it alwayssmile for the chevalier and his son. That is the mystery of it. Onenever knows when it is going to happen--one never knows why it doeshappen. But if you could see that uncanny smile--"

  "I should like to," interposed Cleek. "That is, if it might happenwithout any tragical result. Hum-m-m! Nobody but the chevalier and thechevalier's son! And when does it happen in their case--during thecourse of the show, or when there is nobody about but those connectedwith it?"

  "Oh, always during the course of the entertainment, sir. Indeed, it hasnever happened at any other time--never at all."

  "Oho!" said Cleek. "Then it is only when they are dressed and made upfor the performance,
eh? Hum-m-m! I see." Then he relapsed into silencefor a moment, and sat tracing circles on the floor with the toe of hisboot. But, of a sudden: "You came here directly after the matinee, Isuppose?" he queried, glancing up at young Scarmelli.

  "Yes; in fact, before it was wholly over."

  "I see. Then it is just possible that all the performers have not yetgot into their civilian clothes. Couldn't manage to take me round behindthe scenes, so to speak, if Mr. Narkom will lend us his motor to hurryus there? Could, eh? That's good. I think I'd like to have a look atthat lion and, if you don't mind, an introduction to the partiesconcerned. No! don't fear; we won't startle anybody by revealing myidentity or the cause of the visit. Let us say that I'm a vet, to whomyou have appealed for an opinion, regarding Nero's queer conduct. Allready, Mr. Narkom? Thanks--then let's be off."

  Two minutes later the red limousine was at the door, and, stepping intoit with his two companions, he was whizzed away to Olympia and the firststep towards the solution of the riddle.

 

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