The Rayner-Slade Amalgamation

by J. S. Fletcher

  CHAPTER XIX

  THE LATE CALL

  It was with a mighty effort of will that Allerdyke controlled himselfsufficiently to be able to answer Fullaway's question with calmness. Thiswas for him a critical moment. He knew now to whom James Allerdyke hadgiven the photograph which Chettle had found concealed in Lydenberg'swatch; knew that the recipient was sitting close by him, separated onlyfrom him by a wall and a door; knew that between her and Lydenberg, orthose who had been in touch with Lydenberg, there must be some strange,secret, and sinister connection. From Mrs. Marlow to Lydenberg thatphotograph had somehow passed, and, as Chettle had well said, the entireproblem of the murders and thefts was mixed up in its transference. Allthat was certain--what seemed certain, too, was that Fullaway knewnothing of these things, and was as innocent as he himself. And for thefraction of a second he was half-minded to tell all he knew to Fullawaythere and then--and it was only by a still stronger effort of will thathe restrained his tongue, determined to keep a stricter silence thanever, and replied to the American in an offhand, casual tone.

  "News?" he said, with a half-laugh. "Nay, not that I know of. They taketheir time, those detective chaps. You heard aught?"

  "Nothing particular," answered Fullaway. "Except that the Princess was inhere this morning, and that Miss Lennard came at the same time. Butneither of them had anything of importance to tell. The Princess has beenransacking her memory all about her affairs with your cousin; she's morecertain than ever now that nobody in Russia but he and she knew anythingabout the jewel deal. They were always in strict privacy when theydiscussed the matter; no one was present when she gave him the jewels;she never mentioned the affair to a soul, and she's confident from whatshe knew of him, that he wouldn't. So she's more convinced than ever thatthe news got out from this side."

  "And Miss Lennard--what did she want?" asked Allerdyke.

  "Oh! she's found the various references--two or three of 'em--that shehad with the French maid," replied Fullaway. "I looked at them--there'snothing in them but what you'd expect to find. Two of the writers arewell-known society women, the third was a French marquise. I don't thinkanything's to be got out of them, but, anyway, I sent her off to ScotlandYard with them--it's their work that. Fine photos there, Allerdyke," hecontinued, turning over the leaves of the album. "Some of your places inBradford, eh."

  Allerdyke, who was particularly anxious that he should not seem to havehad an ulterior object in bringing the album up to Fullaway's officehailed this question with relief. He began to point out and explain thevarious pictures--photographs of his mills, warehouses, town office, hisown private house, grounds, surroundings, chatting unconcernedly abouteach. And while the two men were thus engaged in came Mrs. Marlow,bringing letters which needed Fullaway's signature.

  "Mrs. Marlow knows more about amateur photography than I do," remarkedFullaway, with a glance at his secretary. "Here, Mrs. Marlow, these aresame of Mr. Allerdyke's productions--you remember that his cousin, Mr.James Allerdyke, gave you a photo which this Mr. Allerdyke had taken?"

  Allerdyke, keenly watching the secretary's pretty face as she laid herpapers on Fullaway's desk, saw no sign of embarrassment or confusion;Fullaway might have made the most innocent and ordinary remark in theworld, and yet, according to Allerdyke's theory and positive knowledge,it must be fraught with serious meaning to this woman.

  "Oh yes!" she flashed, without as much as the flicker of an eyelash. "Iremember--a particularly good photo. So like him!"

  Allerdyke's ingenuity immediately invented a remark; he was at that stagewhen, he wanted to know as much as possible.

  "I wonder which print it was that he gave you?" he said. "One of them--Ionly did a few--had a spot in it that'll spread. If that's the oneyou've got, I'll give you another in its place, Mrs. Marlow. Have yougot it here?"

  But Mrs. Marlow shook her head and presented the same unabashed front.

  "No," she answered readily enough. "I took it home, Mr. Allerdyke. Butthere's no spot on my print--I should have noticed it at once. May I lookat your album when Mr. Fullaway's finished with it?"

  Allerdyke left the album with them and went away. He was utterlyastonished by Mrs. Marlow's coolness. If, as he already believed, she wasmixed up in the murders and robberies, she must know that the photographwhich James Allerdyke had given her was a most important factor, and yetshe spoke of it as calmly and unconcernedly as if it had been a merescrap of paper! Of course she hadn't got it at the office--nor at herhome either--it was there at Hull, fitted into the cover of Lydenberg'sold watch.

  "A cool hand!" soliloquized Allerdyke as he went downstairs. "Cool,clever, calm, never off her guard. A damned dangerous woman!--that's thelong and short of it. And--what next?"

  Experience and observation of life had taught Marshall Allerdyke thatgood counsel is one of life's most valuable assets. He could think forhimself and decide for himself at any moment, but he knew the worth andvalue of putting two heads together, especially at a juncture like this.And so, the afternoon being still young, he went off to his warehouse inGresham Street, closeted himself with Ambler Appleyard, and havingpledged him to secrecy, told him all that had happened since theprevious morning.

  Ambler Appleyard listened in silence. It was only two or three hourssince he had listened to another story--the report of the two Gaffneys,and Allerdyke, all unaware of that business, had come upon him whilehe was still thinking it over. And while Appleyard gave full attentionto all that his employer said, he was also thinking of what he himselfcould tell. By the time that Allerdyke had finished he, too, haddecided to speak.

  "So there it is, my lad!" exclaimed Allerdyke, throwing out his handswith an eloquent gesture as he made an end of his story. "I hope I've putit clearly to you. It's just as that Chap Chettle said--the whole secretis in that photograph! And isn't it plain?--that photograph must havebeen transferred somehow by this Mrs. Marlow to this Lydenberg. How? Why?When we can answer those questions--"

  He paused at that, and, looking fixedly at his manager, shook his headhalf-threateningly.

  "I'll tell you what it is, Ambler," he went on, after a moment's silence."I've got a good, strong mind to go straight to the police authorities,tell 'em what I know, insist on 'em fetching Chettle up from Hull atonce, and having that woman arrested. Why not?"

  "No!" said Appleyard firmly. "Not yet. Too soon, Mr. Allerdyke--wait abit. And now listen to me--I've something to tell you. I've been busywhile you've been away--in this affair. Bit of detective work. I'll tellyou all about it--all! You remember that day I went to lunch with you atthe City Carlton, and you pointed out this Mrs. Marlow to me, going intoRothschild's? Yes, well--I recognized her."

  "You did!" exclaimed Allerdyke. "Nay!"

  "I recognized her," repeated Appleyard. "I said naught to you at thetime, but I knew her well enough. As a matter of fact, I've known her fortwo years. She lives at the same boarding-house, the Pompadour PrivateHotel, in Bayswater, that I live in. I see her--have been seeing her fortwo years--every day, morning and night. But I know her as Miss Slade."

  "Miss?" ejaculated Allerdyke.

  "Miss--Miss Slade," answered Appleyard. He drew his chair nearer toAllerdyke's, and went on in a lower voice. "Now, then, pay attention, andI'll tell you all about it, and what I've done since I got your noteyesterday morning."

  He told Allerdyke the whole story of his endeavour to find out somethingabout Rayner merely because Rayner seemed to be in Miss Slade'sconfidence, and because Miss Slade was certainly a woman of mystery. AndAllerdyke listened as quietly and attentively as Appleyard had listenedto him, nodding his head at all the important points, and in the end heslapped his manager's shoulder with an approving hand.

  "Good--good!" he said. "Good, Ambler! That was a bit of right work, andhang me if I don't believe we shall find something out. But what's tobe done? You know, if these two are in at it, they may slip. That 'udnever do!"

  "I don't think there's any fear of that--yet," answered Appleyard. "Theprobability is
that neither has any suspicion of being watched--the wholething's so clever that they probably believe themselves safe. Of course,mind you, this man Rayner may be as innocent as you or I. But againsther, on the facts of that photograph affair, there's a _prima facie_case. Only--don't let's spoil things by undue haste or rashness. I'vethought things out a good deal, and we can do a lot, you and me, beforegoing to the police, though I don't think it 'ud do any harm to tell thisman Chettle, supposing he were here--because his discovery of that photois the real thing."

  "What can we do, then?" asked Allerdyke.

  "Make use of the two Gaffneys," answered Appleyard without hesitation."They're smart chaps---real keen 'uns. We want to find out who Rayner is;what his connection, if any, with Miss Slade, alias Mrs. Marlow, is; whoshe is, and why she goes under two names. That's all what you might callinitial proceedings. What I propose is this--when you go back to yourhotel, get Gaffney into your private sitting-room. You, of course, knowhim much better than I do, but from what bit I've seen of him I'm surehe's the sort of man one can trust. Tell him to get hold of that brotherof his and bring him here at any hour you like to-morrow, andthen--well, we can have a conference, and decide on some means of findingout more about Rayner and keeping an eye on him. For that sort of work Ishould say that other Gaffney's remarkably well cut out--he's a typical,sharp, knowing Cockney, with all his wits about him, and plenty ofassurance."

  "It's detective work, you know, Ambler," said Allerdyke. "It needs a bitof more than ordinary cuteness."

  "From my observation, I should say both those chaps are just cut for it,"answered Appleyard, with a laugh. "What's more, they enjoy it. And whenmen enjoy what they're doing--"

  "Why, they do it well," agreed Allerdyke, finishing the sentence. "Aye,that's true enough. All right--I'll speak to Gaffney, when I go back. Andlook here--as you're so well known to this woman, Miss Slade or Mrs.Marlow, whichever her name is, you'd better not show up at the Waldorf atany time in my company, eh?"

  "Of course," said Appleyard. "You trust me for that! What we've got to domust be done as secretly as possible."

  Allerdyke rose to go, but turned before he reached the door.

  "There's one thing I'm uneasy about," he said. "If--I say if, ofcourse--if these folks--I mean the lot that's behind this woman, for Ican't believe that she's worked it all herself--have got those jewels,won't they want to clear out with them? Isn't delay dangerous?"

  "Not such delay as I'm thinking of," answered Appleyard firmly. "She'scute enough, this lady, and if she made herself scarce just now, she'dknow very well that it would excite suspicion. Don't let's spoil thingsby being too previous. We've got a pretty good watch on her, you know. Ishould know very quickly if she cleared out of the Pompadour; you'd knowif she didn't turn up at Fullaway's. Wait a bit, Mr. Allerdyke; it's thebest policy. You'll come here to-morrow?"

  "Eleven o'clock in the morning," replied Allerdyke. "I'll fix it withGaffney to-night."

  He went back to the Waldorf, summoned Gaffney to his private room, andsent him to arrange matters with his brother. Gaffney accepted thecommission with alacrity; his brother, he said, was just then out of ajob, having lost a clerkship through the sudden bankruptcy of hisemployers; such a bit of business as that which Mr. Appleyard hadentrusted to him was so much meat and drink to one of his tastes--in moreways than one.

  "It's the sort of thing he likes, sir," remarked Gaffney, confidentially."He's always been a great hand at reading these detective tales, and toset him to watch anybody is like offering chickens to a nigger--he fairrevels in it!"

  "Well, there's plenty for him to revel in," observed Allerdyke grimly.

  Plenty! he said to himself with a cynical laugh when Gaffney had lefthim--aye, plenty, and to spare. He spent the whole of that evening alone,turning every detail over in his own mind; he was still thinking, andspeculating, and putting two and two together when he went to bed ateleven o'clock. And just as he was about to switch off his light a waiterknocked on his door.

  "Gentleman downstairs, sir, very anxious to see you at once," he said,when Allerdyke opened it. "His card, sir."

  Allerdyke gave one glance at the card--a plain bit of pasteboard on whichone word had been hastily pencilled--

  CHETTLE.