Gold of the Gods

by Arthur B. Reeve

  II

  THE SOLDIER OF FORTUNE

  "I should like to have another talk with Senorita Inez," remarkedKennedy, a few minutes later, as with Dr. Leslie and Professor Nortonwe turned into the living room and closed the door to the den.

  While Norton volunteered to send one of the servants in to see whetherthe young lady was able to stand the strain of another interview, Dr.Leslie received a hurry call to another case.

  "You'll let me know, Kennedy, if you discover anything?" he asked,shaking hands with us. "I shall keep you informed, also, from my end.That poison completely baffles me--so far. You know, we might as wellwork together."

  "Assuredly," agreed Craig, as the coroner left. "That," he added to me,as the door closed, "was one word for me and two for himself. I can dothe work; he wants to save his official face. He never will know whatthat poison was--until I tell him."

  Inez had by this time so far recovered her composure that she was ableto meet us again in the living room.

  "I'm very sorry to have to trouble you again," apologized Kennedy, "butif I am to get anywhere in this case I must have the facts."

  She looked at him, half-puzzled, and, I fancied, half-frightened, too."Anything I can tell you--of course, ask me," she said.

  "Had your father any enemies who might desire his death?" shot outKennedy, almost without warning.

  "No," she answered slowly, still watching him carefully, then addinghastily: "Of course, you know, no one who tries to do anything isabsolutely without enemies, though."

  "I mean," repeated Craig, carefully noting a certain hesitation in hertone, "was there any one who, for reasons best known to himself, mighthave murdered him in a way peculiarly likely under the circumstances,say, with a dagger?"

  Inez flashed a quick glance at Kennedy, as if to inquire just how muchor how little he really knew. I got the impression from it, at least,that she was holding back some suspicion for a reason that perhaps shewould not even have admitted to herself.

  I saw that Norton was also following the line of Kennedy's questioningkeenly, though he said nothing.

  Before Kennedy could take up the lead again, her maid, Juanita, a verypretty girl of Spanish and Indian descent, entered softly.

  "Mr. Lockwood," she whispered, but not so low that we could not hear.

  "Won't you ask him to come in, Nita?" she replied.

  A moment later a young man pushed open the door--a tall, clean-cutyoung fellow, whose face bore the tan of a sun much stronger than anyabout New York. As I took his appraisal, I found him unmistakably ofthe type of American soldier of fortune who has been carried by thewander-spirit down among the romantic republics to the south of our own.

  "Professor Kennedy," began Senorita Mendoza, presenting us all in turn,"let me introduce Mr. Lockwood, my father's partner in several ventureswhich brought us to New York."

  As we shook hands I could not help feeling that the young miningengineer, for such he proved to be by ostensible profession, wassomething more to her than a mere partner in her father's schemes.

  "I believe I've met Professor Norton," he remarked, as they shookhands. "Perhaps he remembers when we were in Lima."

  "Perfectly," replied Norton, returning the penetrating glance in kind."Also in New York," he added.

  Lockwood turned abruptly. "Are you quite sure you are able to stand thestrain of this interview?" he asked Inez in a low tone.

  Norton glanced at Kennedy and raised his eyebrows just the fraction ofan inch, as if to call attention to the neat manner in which Lockwoodhad turned the subject.

  Inez smiled sadly. "I must," she said, in a forced tone.

  I fancied that Lockwood noted and did not relish an air of restraint inher words.

  "It was you, I believe, Mr. Lockwood, who found Senor Mendoza lastnight?" queried Kennedy, as if to read the answer into the record,although he already knew it.

  "Yes," replied Lockwood, without hesitation, though with a glance atthe averted head of Inez, and choosing his words very carefully, as iftrying hard not to say more than she could bear. "Yes. I came up hereto report on some financial matters which interested both of us, verylate, perhaps after midnight. I was about to press the buzzer on thedoor when I saw that the door was slightly ajar. I opened it and foundlights still burning. The rest I think you must already know."

  Even that tactful reference to the tragedy was too much for Inez. Shesuppressed a little convulsive sob, but did not, this time, try to fleefrom the room.

  "You saw nothing about the den that aroused any suspicions?" pursuedKennedy. "No bottle, no glass? There wasn't the odour of any gas ordrug?"

  Lockwood shook his head slowly, fixing his eyes on Kennedy's face, butnot looking at him. "No," he answered; "I have told Dr. Leslie justwhat I found. If there had been anything else I'm sure I would havenoticed it while I was waiting for Miss Inez to come in."

  His answers seemed perfectly frank and straight-forward. Yet somehow Icould not get over the feeling that he, as well as Inez, was nottelling quite all he knew--perhaps not about the murder, but aboutmatters that might be related to it.

  Norton evidently felt the same way. "You saw no weapon--a dagger?" heinterrupted suddenly.

  The young man faced Norton squarely. To me it seemed as if he had beenexpecting the question. "Not a thing," he said deliberately. "I lookedabout carefully, too. Whatever weapon was used must have been takenaway by the murderer," he added.

  Juanita entered again, and Inez excused herself to answer thetelephone, while we stood in the living room chatting for a few minutes.

  "What is this 'curse of Mansiche' which the Senorita has mentioned?"asked Kennedy, seeing a chance to open a new line of inquiry withLockwood.

  "Oh, I don't know," he returned, impatiently flicking the ashes of acigarette which he had lighted the moment Inez left the room, as thoughsuch stories had no interest for the practical mind of an engineer."Some old superstition, I suppose."

  Lockwood seemed to regard Norton with a sort of aversion, if nothostility, and I fancied that Norton, on his part, neglected noopportunity to let the other know that he was watching him.

  "I don't know much about the story," resumed Lockwood a moment later asno one said anything. "But I do know that there is treasure in thatgreat old Chimu mound near Truxillo. Don Luis has the governmentconcession to bore into the mound, too, and we are raising the capitalto carry the scheme through to success."

  He had come to the end of a sentence. Yet the inflection of his voiceshowed plainly that it was not the end of the idea that had been in hismind.

  "If you knew where to dig," suddenly supplied Norton, gazing keenlyinto the eyes of the soldier of fortune.

  Lockwood did not answer, though it was evident that that had been thethought unexpressed in his remarks.

  The return of the Senorita to the room seemed to break the tension.

  "It was the house telephone," she said, in a quiet voice. "The hall-boydidn't know whether to admit a visitor who comes with his sympathy."Then she turned from us to Lockwood. "You must know him," she said,somewhat embarrassed. "Senor Alfonso de Moche."

  Lockwood suppressed a frown, but said nothing, for, a moment later, ayoung man came in. Almost in silence he advanced to Inez and took herhand in a manner that plainly showed his sympathy in her bereavement.

  "I have just heard," he said simply, "and I hastened around to tell youhow much I feel your loss. If there is anything I can do--"

  He stopped, and did not finish the sentence. It was unnecessary. Hiseyes finished it for him.

  Alfonso de Moche was, I thought, a very handsome fellow, though not ofthe Spanish type at all. His forehead was high, with a shock ofstraight black hair, his skin rather copper-coloured, nose slightlyaquiline, chin and mouth firm; in fact, the whole face was refined andintellectual, though tinged with melancholy.

  "Thank you," she murmured, then turned to us. "I believe you areacquainted with Mr. de Moche, Professor Norton?" she asked. "You knowhe is taking post-graduat
e work at the University."

  "Slightly," returned Norton, gazing at the young man in a manner thatplainly disconcerted him. "I believe I have met his mother in Peru."

  Senorita Mendoza seemed to colour at the mention of Senora de Moche. Itflashed over me that, in his greeting Alfonso had said nothing of hismother. I wondered if there might be a reason for it. Could it be thatSenorita Mendoza had some antipathy which did not include the son?Though we did not seem to be making much progress in this way insolving the mystery, still I felt that before we could go ahead we mustknow the little group about which it centred. There seemed to becurrents and cross-currents here which we did not understand, but whichmust be charted if we were to steer a straight course.

  "And Professor Kennedy?" she added, turning to us.

  "I think I have seen Mr. de Moche about the campus," said Craig, as I,too, shook hands with him, "although you are not in any of my classes."

  "No, Professor," concurred the young man, who was, however,considerably older than the average student taking courses like his.

  I found it quite enough to watch the faces of those about me just then.Between Lockwood and de Moche it seemed that there existed a latenthostility. The two eyed each other with decided disfavour. As forNorton, he seemed to be alternately watching each of them.

  An awkward silence followed, and de Moche seemed to take the cue, forafter a few more remarks to Inez he withdrew as gracefully as he could,with a parting interchange of frigid formalities with Lockwood. It didnot take much of a detective to deduce that both of the young men mighthave agreed on one thing, though that caused the most serious ofdifferences between them--their estimation of Inez de Mendoza.

  Inez, on her part, seemed also to be visibly relieved at his departure,though she had been cordial enough to him. I wondered what it all meant.

  Lockwood, too, seemed to be ill at ease still. But it was a differentuneasiness, rather directed at Norton than at us. Once before I hadthought he was on the point of excusing himself, but the entrance of deMoche seemed to have decided him to stay at least as long as his rival.

  "I beg your pardon, Senorita," he now apologized, "but I really mustgo. There are still some affairs which I must attend to in order toprotect the interests we represent." He turned to us. "You will excuseme, I know," he added, "but I have a very important appointment. Youknow Don Luis and I were assisting in organizing the campaign of StuartWhitney to interest American manufacturers, and particularly bankers,in the chances in South America which lie at hand, if we are only awaketo take advantage of them. I shall be at your service, Senorita, assoon as the meeting is over. I presume I shall see you again?" henodded to Kennedy.

  "Quite likely," returned Kennedy drily.

  "If there is any assistance I can render in clearing up this dreadfulthing," went on Lockwood, in a lower tone to us, "you may count on meabsolutely."

  "Thank you," returned Craig, with a significant glance. "I may have totake up that offer."

  "Do so, by all means," he reiterated, bowing to Norton and backing outof the door.

  Alone again with Inez Mendoza, Kennedy turned suddenly. "Who is thisSenor de Moche?" he asked. "I gather that you must have known him inPeru."

  "Yes," she agreed. "I knew him in Lima"; then adding, as if by way ofconfession, "when he was a student at the University."

  There was something in both her tone and manner that would lead one tobelieve that she had only the kindliest feelings toward de Moche,whatever might be the case, as it seemed, with his mother.

  For a moment Kennedy now advanced and took Senorita Inez by the hand."I must go now," he said simply. "If there is anything which you havenot told me, I should like to know."

  "No--nothing," she answered.

  He did not take his eyes from hers. "If you should recall anythingelse," he persisted, "don't hesitate to tell me. I will come here, oryou may come to the laboratory, whichever is more convenient."

  "I shall do so," she replied. "And thank you a thousand times for thetrouble you are going to in my behalf. You may be sure that Iappreciate it."

  Norton also bade her farewell, and she thanked him for having broughtus over. I noticed also that Norton, though considerably older than anyof us, had apparently succumbed to the spell of her wonderful eyes andface.

  "I also would be glad to help you," he promised. "You can usually findme at the Museum."

  "Thank you all," she murmured. "You are all so kind to me. An hour agoI felt that I had not a friend in all this big city--except Mr.Lockwood. Now I feel that I am not quite all alone."

  She said it to Norton, but it was really meant for Kennedy. I knowCraig shared my own feelings. It was a rare pleasure to work for her.She seemed most appreciative of anything that was done for her in herdefenceless position.

  As we passed out of the apartment house and sought our cab again,Kennedy was the first to speak, and to Norton.

  "Do you know anything more about these men, Lockwood and de Moche?" hequeried, as we sped uptown.

  "I don't know a thing," he replied cautiously. "I--I'd much prefer notto talk of suspicions."

  "But the dagger," insisted Kennedy. "Have you no suspicions of whatbecame of it and who took it?"

  "I'd prefer not to talk of mere suspicions," he repeated.

  Little was said as we turned in at the campus and at last drew upbefore Norton's wing of the Museum.

  "You will let me know of any development, no matter how trivial?" askedKennedy, as we parted. "Your dagger seems to have stirred up moretrouble than there was any reason to suppose when you came to me first."

  "I should say so," he agreed. "I don't know how to repay the interestyou have shown in its recovery. If anything else materializes, I shallsurely get word to you immediately."

  As we turned to leave, I could not help thinking of the manner ofLockwood and Norton toward each other. The name Stuart Whitney ranthrough my head. Stuart Whitney was a trustee of the University who hadcontributed heavily, among other things, to Norton's variousexpeditions to South America. Was it that Norton felt a peculiarloyalty to Whitney, or was he jealous that any one else should succeedin interesting his patron in things South American?

  The actions of the two young men, Lockwood and de Moche, recurred tome. "Well," I remarked, as we walked along, "what do you think it is--aromance or a simple crime-hunt?"

  "Both, I suspect," replied Craig abstractedly. "Only not simple."