CHAPTER VII
THE FRANTIC IMPRESARIO
Fullaway slowly read this announcement aloud. When he had made an end ofit he laughed.
"So your mysterious lady of the midnight motor, your Miss Celia Lennardof the Hull hotel, is the great and only Zelie de Longarde, eh?" he said."Well, I guess that makes matters a lot easier and clearer. But you'resure it isn't a case of striking resemblance?"
"I only saw that woman for a minute or two, by moonlight, when she stuckher face out of her car to ask the way," replied Allerdyke, "but I'lllay all I'm worth to a penny-piece that the woman I then saw is thewoman whose picture we're staring at. Great Scott! So she's a famoussinger, is she? You know of her, of course? That sort of thing's not inmy line--never was--I don't go to a concert or a musical party once infive years."
"Oh, she's great--sure!" responded Fullaway. "Beautiful voice--divine!And, as I say, things are going to be easy. I've met this lady more thanonce, though I didn't know that she'd any other name than that, which ispresumably her professional one, and I've also had one or two businessdeals with her. So all we've got to do is to find out which hotel she'sstopping at in this city, and then we'll go round there, and I'll send inmy card. But I say--do you see, this affair's to-night, this veryevening, and at eight o'clock, and it's past seven now. She'll bearraying herself for the platform. We'd better wait until--"
Allerdyke's practical mind asserted itself. He twisted the Americanround in another direction, and called to a porter who had picked uptheir bags.
"All that's easy," he said. "We'll stick these things in the left-luggagespot, dine here in the station, and go straight to the concert. There,perhaps, during an interval, we might get in a word with this lady whosports two names. Come on, now."
He hurried his companion from the cloak-room to the dining-room, gave aquick order on his own behalf to the waiter, left Fullaway to give hisown, and began to eat and drink with the vigour of a man who means towaste no time.
"There's one thing jolly certain, my lad!" he said presently, leaningconfidentially across the table after he had munched in silence for awhile. "This Miss Lennard, or Mamselle, or Signora de Longarde, orwhatever her real label is, hasn't got those jewels--confound 'em! Folkswho steal things like that don't behave as she's doing."
"I never thought she had stolen the jewels," answered Fullaway. "What Iwant to know is--has she seen them, and when, and where, and under whatcircumstances? You've got her shoe-buckle all safe?"
"Waistcoat-pocket just now," replied Allerdyke laconically.
"That'll be an extra passport," observed Fullaway. "Not that it's needed,because, as I said, I've done business for her. Oddly enough, that was inthe jewel line--I negotiated the sale of Pinkie Pell's famous pearlnecklace with Mademoiselle de Longarde. You've heard of that, of course?"
"Never a whisper!" answered Allerdyke. "Not in my line, those affairs.Who was Pinkie Pell, anyhow!"
"Pinkie Pell was a well-known music-hall artiste, my dear sir, once agreat favourite, who came down in the world, and had to sell hervaluables," replied the American. "To the last she stuck to a pearlnecklace, which was said to have been given to her by the Duke ofBendlecombe--Pinkie, they said, attached a sentimental value to it.However, it had to be sold, and I sold it for Pinkie to the lady we'regoing to see to-night. Seven thousand five hundred--it's well worth ten.Mademoiselle will be wearing it, no doubt--she generally does, anyway--soyou'll see it."
"Not unless we get a front pew," said Allerdyke. "Hurry up, and let's beoff! Our best plan," he went on as they made for a cab, "will be to getas near the platform as possible, so that I can make certain sure this isthe woman I saw at Howden yesterday morning--when I positively identifyher, I'll leave it to you to work the interview with her, either at thisconcert place or at her hotel afterwards. If it can be done at once, allthe more to my taste--I want to be knowing things."
"Oh, we're going well ahead!" said Fullaway. "I'll work it all right. Inoticed on that poster that this affair is being run by theConcert-Director Ernest Weiss. I know Weiss--he'll get us an interviewwith the great lady after she's appeared the first time."
"It's a fortunate thing for me to have a man who seems to knoweverybody," remarked Allerdyke. "I suppose it's living in London givesyou so much acquaintance?"
"It's my business to know a lot of people," answered Fullaway. "The morethe better--for my purposes. I'll tell you how I came to know your cousinlater that's rather interesting. Well, here's the place, and it's fiveto eight now. We've struck it very well, and the only trouble'll be aboutgetting good seats, especially as we're in morning dress."
Allerdyke smiled at that--in his opinion, money would carry a mananywhere, and there was always plenty of that useful commodity in hispockets. He insisted on buying the seats himself, and after someparleying and explaining at the box-office, he and his companion wereduly escorted to seats immediately in front of a flower-decked platform,where they were set down amidst a highly select company of correctlyattired folk, who glanced a little questioningly at their tweed suits,both conspicuous amidst silks, satins, broadcloths, and glazed linen.Allerdyke laughed as he thrust a program into Fullaway's hand.
"I worked that all right," he whispered. "Told the chap in that receiptof custom that you were a foreigner of great distinction travellingincognito in Scotland, and I your travelling companion, and that ourluggage hadn't arrived from Aberdeen, so we couldn't dress, but we musthear this singing lady at all cost and in any case. Then I slapped downthe brass and got the tickets--naught like brass in ready form, my lad!Now, then, when does the desired party appear?"
Fullaway unfolded his program and glanced over the items. TheConcert-Direction of Ernest Weiss was famous for the fare which it putbefore its patrons, and here was certainly enough variety of talent toplease the most critical--a famous tenor, a popular violinist, acontralto much in favour for her singing of tender and sentimental songs,a notable performer on the violincello, a local vocalist whose specialitywas the singing of ancient Scottish melodies, and--item of vast interestto a certain section of the audience--a youthful prodigy who was fondlybelieved to have it in her power to become a female Paderewski. Theseperformers were duly announced on the program in terms of varyingimportance; outstanding from all of them, of course, was the great starof the evening, the one and only Zelie de Longarde, acknowledged Queen ofSong in Milan and Moscow, Paris and London, New York and Melbourne.
"Comes on fifth, I see," observed Allerdyke, glancing over hisprogram unconcernedly. "Well, I suppose we've got to stick out theother four. I'm not great on music, Fullaway--don't know one tunefrom another. However, I reckon I can stand a bit of noise until mylady shows herself."
He listened with good-natured interest, which was not far removed fromindifference, to the contralto, the 'cellist, the violinist, only wakingup to something like enthusiasm when the infant prodigy, a quaint,painfully shy little creature, who bobbed a side curtsey at the audience,and looked much too small to tackle the grand piano, appeared andproceeded to execute wonderful things with her small fingers.
"That's a bit of all right!" murmured Allerdyke, when the child hadfinished her first contribution. "That's a clever little party! But she'stoo big in the eye, and too small in the bone--wants plenty of new milk,and new-laid eggs, and fresh air, and not so much piano-thumping, doesthat. Clever--clever--but unnatural, Fullaway!--they mustn't let her dotoo much at that. Well, now I suppose we shall see the shoe-buckle lady."
The packed audience evidently supposed the same thing. Over it--theinfant prodigy having received her meed of applause and bobbed herselfawkwardly out of sight--had come that atmosphere of expectancy whichinvariably heralds the appearance of the great figure on any similaroccasion. It needed no special intuition on Allerdyke's part to know thatall these people were itching to show their fondness for Zelie deLongarde by clapping their hands, waving their program, and otherwisemanifesting their delight at once more seeing a prime favourite. All eyeswere fixed on the wing of
the platform, all hands were ready to givewelcome. But a minute passed--two minutes--three minutes--and Zelie deLongarde did not appear. Another minute--and then, endeavouring to smilebravely and reassuringly, and not succeeding particularly well in theattempt, a tall, elaborately attired, carefully polished-up man,unmistakably German, blonde, heavy, suave, suddenly walked on to theplatform and did obeisance to the audience.
"Weiss!" whispered Fullaway. "Something's wrong! Look at his face--he'sin big trouble."
The concert-director straightened himself from that semi-military bow,and looked at the faces in front of him with a mute appeal.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "I have to entreat the high favour ofyour kind indulgence. Mademoiselle de Longarde is not yet arrived fromher hotel. I hope--I think--she is now on her way. In the meantime Ipropose, with your gracious consent, to continue, our program with thenext item, at the conclusion of which, I hope, Mademoiselle will appear."
The audience was sympathetic--the audience was ready to be placated. Itgave cordial hearing and warm favour to the singer of Scottishmelodies--it even played into Mr. Concert-Director Weiss's hands byaccording the local singer an encore. But when he had finally retiredthere was another wait, a longer one which lengthened unduly, a note ofimpatience sounded from the gallery; it was taken up elsewhere. Andsuddenly Weiss came again upon the platform--this time with noaffectation of suave entreaty. He was plainly much upset; his elegantwaistcoat seemed to have assumed careworn creases, his mop of blonde hairwas palpably rumpled as if he had been endeavouring to tear some of itswavy locks out by force. And when he spoke his fat voice shook with amixture of chagrin and anger.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "I crave ten thousand--amillion--pardons for this so-unheard-of state of affairs! The--the truthis, Mademoiselle de Longarde is not yet here. What is more--I have totell you the truth--Mademoiselle refuses to come--refuses to fulfil herhonourable engagement. We are--have been for some time--on the telephonewith her. Mademoiselle is at her hotel. She declares she has beenrobbed--her jewels have all been stolen from their case in herapartments. She is--how shall I say?--turning the hotel upside down! Sherefuses to budge one inch until her jewels are restored to her. Howthen?--I cannot restore her jewels. I say to her--my colleagues say toher--it is not your jewels we desire--it is your so beautiful, soincomparable voice. She reply--I cannot tell you what she reply! Ineffect--no jewels, no song! Ladies and gentlemen, once more!--your mostkind, most considerate indulgence! I go there just now--I fly; swift, tothe hotel, to entreat Mademoiselle on my knees to return with me! In themeantime--"
As Weiss retired from the platform, and the longhaired 'cellist came uponit, Fullaway sprang up, dragging Allerdyke after him. He led the way toa sidedoor, whispered something to an attendant, and was quickly usheredthrough another door to an ante-room behind the wings, where Weiss, lividwith anger, was struggling into an opera-cloak. The concert-directorgasped as he caught sight of the American.
"Ah, my dear Mr. Fullaway!" he exclaimed. "You here! You have heard?--youhave been in front. You hear, then--she will not come to sing because herjewels are missing, eh? She--"
"What hotel is Mademoiselle de Longarde stopping at, Weiss?" askedFullaway quietly.
"The North British and Caledonian--I go there just now!" answered Weiss."I am ruined if she will not appear--ruined, disgraced! Jewels! Ah--!"
"Come on--we're going with you," said Fullaway. "Quick now!"
Allerdyke got some vivid impressions during the next few minutes,impressions various, startling. They began with a swift whirl through thelighted streets of the smoky old city, of a dash upstairs at a big hotel;they ended with a picture of a beautiful, highly enraged woman, who wasfreely speaking her mind to a dismayed hotel manager and a couple of menwho were obviously members of the detective force.
The Rayner-Slade Amalgamation Page 7
