CHAPTER XXXIII
"Num-bah Nine-ninety-two--Captain Maltravers, please.Nine-ninety-two. Num-bah Nine-ninety-two!"
Thrice the voice of the page--moving and droning out his wordsin that perfunctory manner peculiar unto the breed of hotelpages the world over--sounded its dreary monotone through the humof conversation in the rather crowded tearoom without producingthe slightest effect; then, of a sudden, the gentleman seated inthe far corner reading the daily paper--a tall, fair-haired,fair-moustached gentleman with "The Army" written all over him incapital letters--twitched up his head, listened until the call wasgiven for the fourth time, and, thereupon, snapped his fingerssharply, elevated a beckoning digit, and called out crisply:"Here, my boy--over here--this way!"
The boy went to him immediately, extended a small, circular metalsalver, and then, lifting the thumb which held in position thehand-written card thereon, allowed the slip of pasteboard to beremoved.
"Gentleman, sir--waiting in the office," he volunteered.
"Captain Maltravers" glanced at the card, frowned, rose with itstill held between his fingers, and within the space of a minute'stime walked into the hotel's public office and the presence of ashort, stout, full-bearded "dumpling" of a man with the floridcomplexion and the country-cut clothes of a gentleman farmer, whohalf sat and half leaned upon the arm of a leather-covered settlenervously tapping with the ferule of a thick walking-cane, a bootwhose exceedingly high sole and general construction mutely stoodsponsor for a withered and shortened leg.
"My dear Yard; I am delighted to see you!" exclaimed the "captain"as he bore down on the little round man and shook hands with himheartily. "Grimshaw told me that you would be coming up to Londonshortly, but I didn't allow myself to hope that it would be sosoon as this. Gad! it's a dog's age since I've seen you. Come alongup to my own room and let us have a good old-fashioned chat. Keyof Nine-ninety-two, please, clerk. Thanks very much. Come along,Yard--this way, old chap!"
With that he linked his arm in his caller's, bore him clumping andwobbling to the nearby lift, and thence, in due course, to the doorof number Nine-ninety-two and the seclusion which lay behind it.He was still chattering away gayly as the lift dropped down out ofsight and left them, upon which he shut the door, locked it uponthe inside, and stopping long enough to catch up a towel and hangit over the keyhole, turned on his heel and groaned.
"What! am I not to have even a two days' respite, you indefatigable_machine_?" he said, as he walked across the room and threw himselfinto a chair with a sigh of annoyance. "Think! it was only thismorning that I ventured upon the first casual bow of a fellow guestwith the dear 'Baron'; only at luncheon we exchanged the first civilword. But the ice was broken and I should have had him 'roped in' byteatime--I am sure of it. And now you come and nip my hopes in thebud like this. And in a disguise that a fellow as sharp as he wouldsee through in a wink if he met you."
"It was the best I could do, Cleek--I'm not a dabster in the artof making up, as you know." Mr. Narkom's voice was, like his air,duly apologetic. "Besides, I hung around until I saw him go outbefore I ventured in; although I was on thorns the whole blessedtime. I had to see you, old chap--I simply had to--and every minutewas of importance. I shouldn't have ventured to come at all if ithadn't been imperative."
"I'm sure of that," said Cleek, recovering his good humour instantly."Don't mind my beastly bad temper this afternoon, there's a goodfriend. It's a bit of a disappointment, of course, after I'd lookedforward to a clear field just as soon as Waldemar should return,but----It is you, first and foremost, at all times and under allcircumstances. Other matters count as nothing with me when _you_call. Always remember that."
"I do, old chap. It's because I do that I went to the length ofpromising Miss Larue that I'd lay the case before you."
"Miss Larue? A moment, please. Will the lady to whom you refer beMiss Margaret Larue, the celebrated actress? The one in questionwho treated me so cavalierly last August in that business regardingthe disappearance of that chap James Colliver?"
"Yes. He was her brother, you recollect, and--don't get hot aboutit, Cleek. I know she treated you very badly in that case, and sodoes she, but----"
"She treated me abominably!" interposed Cleek, with some heat."First setting me on the business, and then calling me off justas I had got a grip on the thing and was within measuring distanceof the end. I can't forgive that; and I never could fathom herreason for it. If it was as you yourself suggested at the time,because she shrank from the notoriety that was likely to accrueto her from letting everybody in the world know that 'Jimmy theShifter' was her own brother, she ought to have thought of thatin the beginning--when she acknowledged it so openly--instead ofmaking such an ass of me by her high-handed proceeding of callingme off the scent at its hottest, as if I were a tame puppy to bepulled this way and that with a string. I object to being made afool of, Mr. Narkom; and there's no denying the fact that MissLarue treated me very badly in that James Colliver case--very badlyand very cavalierly indeed."
Unquestionably Miss Larue had. Even Mr. Narkom had to admit that;for the facts which lay behind these heated remarks were not suchas are calculated to make any criminal investigator pleased with hisconnection therewith. Clearly set forth, those facts were as follows:
On the nineteenth day of the preceding August, James Colliver haddisappeared, as suddenly and as completely and with as little traceleft behind as does a kinematograph picture when it vanishes fromthe screen.
Now the world at large had never heard of James Colliver until hedid disappear, and it is extremely doubtful if it would have doneso even then but that circumstances connected with his vanishmentbrought to light the startling disclosure that the worthless,dissolute hulk of a man who was known to the habitues of half thelow-class public houses in Hoxton by the pseudonym of "Jimmy theShifter" was not only all that time and drink had left of theonce popular melodramatic actor Julian Monteith, but that he was,in addition thereto, own brother to Miss Margaret Larue, thedistinguished actress who was at that moment electrifying Londonby her marvellous performance of the leading role in _The Late Mrs.Cavendish_.
The reasons which impelled Miss Larue to let the public discover thather real name was Maggie Colliver, and that "Jimmy the Shifter"was related to her by such close ties of blood, were these: _TheLate Mrs. Cavendish_ was nearing the close of its long and successfulrun at the Royalty, and its successor was already in rehearsal forearly production. That successor was to be a specially rewrittenversion of the old-time favourite play _Catharine Howard; or, TheTomb, the Throne, and the Scaffold_, with Miss Larue, of course, inthe part of the ambitious and ill-fated Catharine. Preparationswere on foot for a production which would be splendidly elaborateas to scenery and effects, and absolutely accurate as to detail. Forinstance, the costume which Henry VIII had worn at the time ofhis marriage with Catharine Howard was copied exactly, down tothe minute question of the gaudy stitchery on the backs of thegloves and the toes of the shoes; and permission had been obtainedto make the mimic betrothal ring which the stage "Henry" was topress upon the finger of the stage "Catharine" an exact replicaof the real one, as preserved among the nation's historic jewels.Not to be outdone in this matter of accuracy, Miss Larue naturallyaimed to have the dresses and the trinkets she wore as nearly likethose of the original Catharine as it was possible to obtain. As herposition in the world of art was now so eminent and had brought herinto close touch with the elect, it was not difficult for the ladyto borrow dresses, and even jewels, of the exact period from theheirlooms treasured by members of the nobility, that these might becopied in mimic gems for her by the well-known theatrical and showsupply company of Henry Trent & Son, Soho.
To this firm, which was in full charge of the preparation of dresses,properties, and accessories for the great production, was alsoentrusted the making of a "cast" of Miss Larue's features and themanufacture therefrom of a wax head with which it was at firstproposed to lend a touch of startling realism to the final scene ofthe execution of
Catharine on Tower Hill, but which was subsequentlyabandoned after the first night as being unnecessarily gruesomeand repulsive.
It was during the course of the final rehearsals for this astonishingproduction, and when the army of supers who had long been drillingfor it at other hours was brought for the first time into contactwith the "principals," that Miss Larue was horrified to discoveramong the members of that "army" her dissolute brother, "Jimmythe Shifter."
For years--out of sheer sympathy for the wife who clung to him tothe last, and the young son who was growing up to be a fine fellowdespite the evil stock from which he had sprung--Miss Larue hadcontinuously supplied this worthless brother with money enough tokeep him, with the strict proviso that he was never to come nearany theatre where she might be performing, nor ever at any time tomake known his relationship to her. She now saw in this breakingof a rule, which heretofore he had inviolably adhered to, clearevidence that the man had suddenly become a menace, and she wasin great haste to get him out of touch with her colleagues beforeanything could be done to disgrace her.
In so sudden and so pressing an emergency she could think of noexcuse but an errand by which to get him out of the theatre, andof no errand but one--the stage jewels which Messrs. Trent & Sonwere making for her. She therefore sat down quickly at the prompttable, and, drawing a sheet of paper to her, wrote hurriedly:
_Messrs. Trent & Son:_
GENTLEMEN--Please give the bearer my jewels--or such of them as are finished, if you have not done with all--that he may bring them to me immediately, as I have instant need of them.
Yours faithfully,
MARGARET LARUE.
This she passed over to the stage manager, with a request to "Pleaseread that, Mr. Lampson, and certify over your signature that it isauthentic, and that you vouch for having seen me write it." Afterwhich she got up suddenly, and said as calmly as she could: "Mr.Super Master, I want to borrow one of your men to go on an importanterrand to Trent & Son for me. This one will do," signalling outher brother. "Spare him, please. This way, my man--come quickly!"
With that she suddenly caught up the note she had written--and whichthe stage manager had, as requested, certified--and, beckoning herbrother to follow, walked hurriedly off the stage to a deserted pointin the wings.
"Why have you done this dreadful thing?" she demanded in a low,fierce tone as soon as he came up with her. "Are you a fool as wellas a knave that you come here and risk losing your only support bya thing like this?"
"I wanted to see you--I had to see you--and it was the only way," hegave back in the same guarded tone. "The wife is dead. She died lastnight, and I've got to get money somewhere to bury her. I'd no oneto send, since you've taken Ted away and sent him to school, so I hadto come myself."
The knowledge that it was for no more desperate reason than thisthat he had forced himself into her presence came as a great reliefto Miss Larue. She hastened to get rid of him by sending him toTrent & Son with the note that she had written, and to tell himto carry the parcel that would be handed to him to the rooms shewas occupying in Portman Square--and which she made up her mind tovacate the very next day--and there to wait until she came home fromrehearsal.
He took the note and left the theatre at once, upon which Miss Larue,considerably relieved, returned to the duties in hand, and promptlybanished all thought of him from her mind.
It was not until something like two hours afterward that he wasbrought back to mind in a somewhat disquieting manner.
"I say, Miss Larue," said the stage manager as she came off afterthrice rehearsing a particularly trying scene, and, with a wearysigh, dropped into a vacant chair at his table, "aren't you worriedabout that chap you sent with the note to Trent & Son? There's beentime for him to go and return twice over, you know; and I observethat he's not back yet. Aren't you a bit uneasy?"
"No. Why should I be?"
"Well, for one thing, I should say it was an extremely risky businessunless you knew something about the man. Suppose, for instance, heshould make off with the jewels? A pretty pickle you'd be in withthe parties from whom you borrowed them, by Jove!"
"Good gracious, you don't suppose I sent him for the originals, doyou?" said Miss Larue with a smile. "Trent & Son _would_ think mea lunatic to do such a thing as that. What I sent him for was, ofcourse, merely the paste replicas. The originals I shall naturallygo for myself."
"God bless my soul! The paste replicas, do you say?" blurted in Mr.Lampson excitedly. "Why, I thought--Trent & Son will be sure to thinkso themselves under the circumstances! They can't possibly thinkotherwise."
"'Under the circumstances'? 'Think otherwise'?" repeated Miss Larue,facing round upon him sharply. "What do you mean by that, Mr.Lampson? Good heavens! not that they could possibly be mad enoughto give the man the originals?"
"Yes, certainly! Good Lord! what else can they think--what elsecan they give him? They sent the paste duplicates here by their ownmessenger this morning! They are in the manager's office--in hissafe--at this very minute; and I was going to bring them round toyou as soon as the rehearsal is over!"
Consternation followed this announcement, of course. The rehearsalwas called to an abrupt halt. Mr. Lampson and Miss Larue flewround to the front of the house in a sort of panic, got to thetelephone, and rang up Trent & Son, who confirmed their worstfears. Yes, the man had arrived with the note from Miss Laruesomething over an hour ago, and they had promptly handed him overthe original jewels. Not all of them, of course, but those whichthey had finished duplicating and of which they had sent thereplicas to the theatre by their own messenger that morning. Surelythat was what Miss Larue meant by the demand, was it not? No otherexplanation seemed possible after they had sent her the copiesand--Good Lord! hadn't heard about it? Meant the imitations?Heavens above, what an appalling mistake! What was that? The man?Oh, yes; he took the things after Mr. Trent, senior, had removedthem from the safe and handed them over to him, and he had leftMr. Trent's office directly he received them. Miss Larue couldascertain exactly what had been delivered to him by examining theduplicates their messenger had carried to the theatre.
Miss Larue did, discovering, to her dismay, that they represented acurious ruby necklace, of which the original had been lent her by theDuchess of Oldhampton, a stomacher of sapphires and pearls borrowedfrom the Marquise of Chepstow, and a rare Tudor clasp of diamondsand opals which had been lent to her by the Lady Margery Thraill.
In a panic she rushed from the theatre, called a taxi, and, hopingagainst hope, whirled off to her rooms at Portman Square. No Mr.James Colliver had been there. Nor did he come there ever. Neitherdid he return to the squalid home where his dead wife lay; nor didany of his cronies nor any of his old haunts see hide or hair ofhim from that time. Furthermore, nobody answering to his descriptionhad been seen to board any train, steamship, or sailing-vesselleaving for foreign parts, nor could there be found any hotel,lodging-house, furnished or even unfurnished apartment into whichhe had entered that day or upon any day thereafter.
In despair, Miss Larue drove to Scotland Yard and put the matterinto the hands of the police, offering a reward of L1,000 for therecovery of the jewels; and through the medium of the newspaperspromised Mr. James Colliver that she would not prosecute, but wouldpay that L1,000 over to _him_ if he would return the gems, that shemight restore them to their rightful owners.
Mr. James Colliver neither accepted that offer nor gave any sign thathe was aware of it. It was then that Scotland Yard, in the personof Cleek, stepped in to conduct the search for both man and jewels;and within forty-eight hours some amazing circumstances were broughtto light.
First and foremost, Mr. Henry Trent, who said he had given the gemsover to Colliver, and that the man had immediately left the office,was unable, through the fact of his son's absence from town, to giveany further proof of that statement than his own bare word; forthere was nobody but himself in the office at the time, whereas thedoor porter, who distinctly reme
mbered James Colliver's entrance intothe building, as distinctly remembered that up to the moment whenevening brought "knocking-off time" James Colliver had never, to hiscertain knowledge, come out of it!
The next amazing fact to be unearthed was that one of the officecleaners had found tucked under the stairs leading up to the topfloor a sponge, which had beyond all possible question been used towipe blood from something and had evidently been tucked there in agreat hurry. The third amazing discovery took the astonishing shapeof finding in an East End pawnbroker's shop every one of the missingarticles, and positive proof that the man who had pledged them wascertainly not in the smallest degree like James Colliver, but wasevidently a person of a higher walk in life and more prosperousin appearance than the missing man had been since the days when hewas a successful actor.
These circumstances Cleek had just brought to light when Miss Larue,having found the gems, determined to drop the case, and refusedthereafter so much as to discuss it with any living soul.
That her reason for taking this unusual step had something behind itwhich was of more moment than the mere fact that the jewels hadbeen recovered and returned to their respective owners there couldhardly be a doubt; for from that time onward her whole nature seemedto undergo a radical change, and, from being a brilliant, vivacious,cheery-hearted woman whose spirits were always of the highest andwhose laughter was frequent, she developed suddenly into a silent,smileless, mournful one, who shrank from all society but that ofher lost brother's orphaned son, and who seemed to be oppressedby the weight of some unconfessed cross and the shadow of somesecret woe.
Such were the facts regarding the singular Colliver case at the timewhen Cleek laid it down--unprobed, unsolved, as deep a mystery in theend as it had been in the beginning--and such they still were when,on this day, at this critical time and after an interval of elevenmonths, Mr. Maverick Narkom came to ask him to pick it up again.
"And with an element of fresh mystery added to complicate it morethan ever, dear chap," he declared, rather excitedly. "For, asthe father vanished eleven months ago, so yesterday the son,too, disappeared. In the same manner--from the same point--inthe selfsame building and in the same inexplicable and almostsupernatural way! Only that in this instance the mystery is evenmore incomprehensible, more like 'magic' than ever. For the boy isknown to have been shown by a porter into a room almost entirelysurrounded by glass--a room whose interior was clearly visible totwo persons who were looking into it at the time--and then andthere to have completely vanished without anybody knowing when,where, or how."
Cleek of Scotland Yard: Detective Stories Page 34
