“Lord Walterton!” I ejaculated, wholly incredulously.
“Why, yes!” he replied quietly. “Do you mean to say you never thought of that? that it never occurred to you that Mary Newton may have admitted to her father that Mr Ledbury had been the man who had so wickedly wronged her, but that she, in her remote little village, had also no idea that the Mr Ledbury she meant was recently made, and is now styled, Lord Walterton?
“Old Man Newton, who knew of the gossip which had coupled his daughter’s name, years ago, with the younger Mr Ledbury, naturally took it for granted that she was referring to him. Moreover, we may take it from the girl’s subsequent attitude that she did all she could to shield the man whom she had once loved; women, you know, have that sort of little way with them.
“Old Newton, fully convinced that young Ledbury was the man he wanted, went up to The Towers and had the stormy interview, which no doubt greatly puzzled the young Hussar. He undoubtedly spoke of it to his brother, Lord Walterton, who, newly married and of high social position, would necessarily dread a scandal as much as anybody.
“Lord Walterton went up to town with his young wife the following morning. Ayrsham is only forty minutes from London. He came down in the evening, met Mary in the lane, asked to see her father, and killed him in a moment of passion, when he found that the old man’s demands were preposterously unreasonable. Moreover, Englishmen in all grades of society have an innate horror of being bullied or blackmailed; the murder probably was not premeditated, but the outcome of rage at being browbeaten by the old man.
“You see, the police did not use their common sense over so simple a matter. They naturally made no enquiries as to Lord Walterton’s movements, who seemingly had absolutely nothing to do with the case. If they had, I feel convinced that they would have found that his lordship would have had some difficulty in satisfying everybody as to his whereabouts on that particular Tuesday night.
“Think of it, it is so simple – the only possible solution of that strange and unaccountable mystery.”
XI
The Affair at the Novelty Theatre
1
“Talking of mysteries,” said the man in the corner, rather irrelevantly, for he had not opened his mouth since he sat down and ordered his lunch, “talking of mysteries, it is always a puzzle to me how few thefts are committed in the dressing-rooms of fashionable actresses during a performance.”
“There have been one or two,” I suggested, “but nothing of any value was stolen.”
“Yet you remember that affair at the Novelty Theatre a year or two ago, don’t you?” he added. “It created a great deal of sensation at the time. You see, Miss Phyllis Morgan was, and still is, a very fashionable and popular actress, and her pearls are quite amongst the wonders of the world. She herself valued them at £10,000, and several experts who remember the pearls quite concur with that valuation.
“During the period of her short tenancy of the Novelty Theatre last season, she entrusted those beautiful pearls to Mr Kidd, the well-known Bond Street jeweller, to be restrung. There were seven rows of perfectly matched pearls, held together by a small diamond clasp of ‘art-nouveau’ design.
“Kidd and Co. are, as you know, a very eminent and old-established firm of jewellers. Mr Thomas Kidd, its present sole representative, was sometime president of the London Chamber of Commerce and a man whose integrity has always been held to be above suspicion. His clerks, salesmen, and bookkeeper had all been in his employ for years, and most of the work was executed on the premises.
“In the case of Miss Phyllis Morgan’s valuable pearls, they were restrung and reset in the back shop by Mr Kidd’s most valued and most trusted workman, a man named James Rumford, who is justly considered to be one of the cleverest craftsmen here in England.
“When the pearls were ready, Mr Kidd himself took them down to the theatre, and delivered them into Miss Morgan’s own hands.
“It appears that the worthy jeweller was extremely fond of the theatre; but, like so many persons in affluent circumstances, he was also very fond of getting a free seat when he could.
“All along he had made up his mind to take the pearls down to the Novelty Theatre one night, and to see Miss Morgan for a moment before the performance; she would then, he hoped, place a stall at his disposal.
“His previsions were correct. Miss Morgan received the pearls, and Mr Kidd was on that celebrated night accommodated with a seat in the stalls.
“I don’t know if you remember all the circumstances connected with that case, but, to make my point clear, I must remind you of one or two of the most salient details.
“In the drama in which Miss Phyllis Morgan was acting at the time, there is a brilliant masked ball scene which is the crux of the whole play; it occurs in the second act, and Miss Phyllis Morgan, as the hapless heroine dressed in the shabbiest of clothes, appears in the midst of a gay and giddy throng; she apostrophizes all and sundry there, including the villain, and has a magnificent scene which always brings down the house, and nightly adds to her histrionic laurels.
“For this scene a large number of supers are engaged, and in order to further swell the crowd, practically all the available stage hands have to ‘walk on’ dressed in various coloured dominoes, and all wearing masks.
“You have, of course, heard the name of Mr Howard Dennis in connection with this extraordinary mystery. He is what is usually called ‘a young man about town’, and was one of Miss Phyllis Morgan’s most favoured admirers. As a matter of fact, he was generally understood to be the popular actress’s fiancée, and as such, had of course the entrée of the Novelty Theatre.
“Like many another idle young man about town, Mr Howard Dennis was stage-mad, and one of his greatest delights was to don nightly a mask and a blue domino, and to ‘walk on’ in the second act, not so much in order to gratify his love for the stage, as to watch Miss Phyllis Morgan in her great scene and to be present, close by her, when she received her usual salvo of enthusiastic applause from a delighted public.
“On this eventful night – it was on 20th July last – the second act was in full swing; the supers, the stage hands, and all the principals were on the scene, the back of the stage was practically deserted. The beautiful pearls, fresh from the hands of Mr Kidd, were in Miss Morgan’s dressing-room, as she meant to wear them in the last act.
“Of course, since that memorable affair, many people have talked of the foolhardiness of leaving such valuable jewellery in the sole charge of a young girl – Miss Morgan’s dresser – who acted with unpardonable folly and carelessness, but you must remember that this part of the theatre is only accessible through the stage door, where sits enthroned that incorruptible dragon, the stage doorkeeper.
“No one can get at it from the front, and the dressing-rooms for the supers and lesser members of the company are on the opposite side of the stage to that reserved for Miss Morgan and one or two of the principals.
“It was just a quarter to ten, and the curtain was about to be rung down, when George Finch, the stage doorkeeper, rushed excitedly into the wings; he was terribly upset, and was wildly clutching his coat, beneath which he evidently held something concealed.
“In response to the rapidly whispered queries of the one or two stage hands that stood about, Finch only shook his head excitedly. He seemed scarcely able to control his impatience, during the close of the act, and the subsequent prolonged applause.
“When at last Miss Morgan, flushed with her triumph, came off the stage, Finch made a sudden rush for her.
“‘Oh, madam!’ he gasped excitedly, ‘it might have been such an awful misfortune! The rascal! I nearly got him, though! but he escaped – fortunately it is safe – I have got it –!’
“It was some time before Miss Morgan understood what in the world the otherwise sober stage doorkeeper was driving at. Everyone who heard him certainly thought that he had been drinking. But the next moment from under his coat he pulled out, with another ejaculation of exc
itement, the magnificent pearl necklace which Miss Morgan had thought safely put away in her dressing-room.
“‘What in the world does all this mean?’ asked Mr Howard Dennis, who, as usual, was escorting his fiancée. ‘Finch, what are you doing with madam’s necklace?’
“Miss Phyllis Morgan herself was too bewildered to question Finch; she gazed at him, then at her necklace, in speechless astonishment.
“‘Well, you see, madam, it was this way,’ Finch managed to explain at last, as with awestruck reverence he finally deposited the precious necklace in the actress’ hands. ‘As you know, madam, it is a very hot night. I had seen everyone into the theatre and counted in the supers; there was nothing much for me to do, and I got rather tired and very thirsty. I seed a man loafing close to the door, and I ask him to fetch me a pint of beer from round the corner, and I give him some coppers; I had noticed him loafing round before, and it was so hot I didn’t think I was doin’ no harm.’
“‘No, no,’ said Miss Morgan impatiently. ‘Well!’
“‘Well,’ continued Finch, ‘the man, he brought me the beer, and I had some of it – and – and – afterwards, I don’t quite know how it happened – it was the heat, perhaps – but – I was sitting in my box, and I suppose I must have dropped asleep. I just remember hearing the ring-up for the second act, and the call-boy calling you, madam, then there’s a sort of a blank in my mind. All of a sudden I seemed to wake with the feeling that there was something wrong somehow. In a moment I jumped up, and I tell you I was wide awake then, and I saw a man sneaking down the passage, past my box, towards the door. I challenged him, and he tried to dart past me, but I was too quick for him, and got him by the tails of his coat, for I saw at once that he was carrying something, and I had recognized the loafer who brought me the beer. I shouted for help, but there’s never anybody about in this back street, and the loafer, he struggled like old Harry, and sure enough he managed to get free from me and away before I could stop him, but in his fright the rascal dropped his booty, for which Heaven be praised! and it was your pearls, madam. Oh, my! but I did have a tussle,’ concluded the worthy doorkeeper, mopping his forehead, ‘and I do hope, madam, the scoundrel didn’t take nothing else.’
“That was the story,” continued the man in the corner, “which George Finch had to tell, and which he subsequently repeated without the slightest deviation. Miss Phyllis Morgan, with the light-heartedness peculiar to ladies of her profession, took the matter very quietly; all she said at the time was that she had nothing else of value in her dressingroom, but that Miss Knight – the dresser – deserved a scolding for leaving the room unprotected.
“‘All’s well that ends well,’ she said gaily, as she finally went into her dressing-room, carrying the pearls in her hand.
“It appears that the moment she opened the door, she found Miss Knight sitting in the room, in a deluge of tears. The girl had overheard George Finch telling his story, and was terribly upset at her own carelessness.
“In answer to Miss Morgan’s questions, she admitted that she had gone into the wings, and lingered there to watch the great actress’ beautiful performance. She thought no one could possibly get to the dressing-room, as nearly all hands were on the stage at the time, and of course George Finch was guarding the door.
“However, as there really had been no harm done, beyond a wholesome fright to everybody concerned, Miss Morgan readily forgave the girl and proceeded with her change of attire for the next act. Incidentally she noticed a bunch of roses, which were placed on her dressing-table, and asked Knight who had put them there.
“‘Mr Dennis brought them,’ replied the girl.
“Miss Morgan looked pleased, blushed, and dismissing the whole matter from her mind, she proceeded with her toilette for the next act, in which, the hapless heroine having come into her own again, she was able to wear her beautiful pearls around her neck.
“George Finch, however, took some time to recover himself; his indignation was only equalled by his volubility. When his excitement had somewhat subsided, he took the precaution of saving the few drops of beer which had remained at the bottom of the mug, brought to him by the loafer. This was subsequently shown to a chemist in the neighbourhood, who, without a moment’s hesitation, pronounced the beer to contain an appreciable quantity of chloral.”
2
“The whole matter, as you may imagine, did not affect Miss Morgan’s spirits that night,” continued the man in the corner, after a slight pause.
“‘All’s well that ends well,’ she had said gaily, since almost by a miracle, her pearls were once more safely round her neck.
“But the next day brought the rude awakening. Something had indeed happened which made the affair at the Novelty Theatre, what it has ever since remained, a curious and unexplainable mystery.
“The following morning Miss Phyllis Morgan decided that it was foolhardy to leave valuable property about in her dressing-room, when, for stage purposes, imitation jewellery did just as well. She therefore determined to place her pearls in the bank until the termination of her London season.
“The moment, however, that, in broad daylight, she once more handled the necklace, she instinctively felt that there was something wrong with it. She examined it eagerly and closely, and, hardly daring to face her sudden terrible suspicions, she rushed round to the nearest jeweller, and begged him to examine the pearls.
“The examination did not take many moments: the jeweller at once pronounced the pearls to be false. There could be no doubt about it; the necklace was a perfect imitation of the original, even the clasp was an exact copy. Half-hysterical with rage and anxiety, Miss Morgan at once drove to Bond Street, and asked to see Mr Kidd.
“Well, you may easily imagine the stormy interview that took place. Miss Phyllis Morgan, in no measured language, boldly accused Mr Thomas Kidd, late president of the London Chamber of Commerce, of having substituted false pearls for her own priceless ones.
“The worthy jeweller, at first completely taken by surprise, examined the necklace, and was horrified to see that Miss Morgan’s statements were, alas! too true. Mr Kidd was indeed in a terribly awkward position.
“The evening before, after business hours, he had taken the necklace home with him. Before starting for the theatre, he had examined it to see that it was quite in order. He had then, with his own hands, and in the presence of his wife, placed it in its case, and driven straight to the Novelty, where he finally gave it over to Miss Morgan herself.
“To all this he swore most positively; moreover, all his employés and workmen could swear that they had last seen the necklace just after closing time at the shop, when Mr Kidd walked off towards Piccadilly, with the precious article in the inner pocket of his coat.
“One point certainly was curious, and undoubtedly helped to deepen the mystery which to this day clings to the affair at the Novelty Theatre.
“When Mr Kidd handed the packet containing the necklace to Miss Morgan, she was too busy to open it at once. She only spoke to Mr Kidd through her dressing-room door, and never opened the packet till nearly an hour later, after she was dressed ready for the second act; the packet at that time had been untouched, and was wrapped up just as she had had it from Mr Kidd’s own hands. She undid the packet, and handled the pearls; certainly, by the artificial light she could see nothing wrong with the necklace.
“Poor Mr Kidd was nearly distracted with the horror of his position. Thirty years of an honest reputation suddenly tarnished with this awful suspicion – for he realized at once that Miss Morgan refused to believe his statements; in fact, she openly said that she would – unless immediate compensation was made to her – place the matter at once in the hands of the police.
“From the stormy interview in Bond Street, the irate actress drove at once to Scotland Yard; but the old-established firm of Kidd and Co. was not destined to remain under any cloud that threatened its integrity.
“Mr Kidd at once called upon his solicitor, with
the result that an offer was made to Miss Morgan, whereby the jeweller would deposit the full value of the original necklace, i.e. £10,000, in the hands of Messrs Bentley and Co., bankers, that sum to be held by them for a whole year, at the end of which time, if the perpetrator of the fraud had not been discovered, the money was to be handed over to Miss Morgan in its entirety.
“Nothing could have been more fair, more equitable, or more just, but at the same time nothing could have been more mysterious.
“As Mr Kidd swore that he had placed the real pearls in Miss Morgan’s hands, and was ready to back his oath by the sum of £10,000, no more suspicion could possibly attach to him. When the announcement of his generous offer appeared in the papers, the entire public approved and exonerated him, and then turned to wonder who the perpetrator of the daring fraud had been.
“How came a valueless necklace in exact imitation of the original one to be in Miss Morgan’s dressing-room? Where were the real pearls? Clearly the loafer who had drugged the stage doorkeeper, and sneaked into the theatre to steal a necklace, was not aware that he was risking several years’ hard labour for the sake of a worthless trifle. He had been one of the many dupes of this extraordinary adventure.
“Macpherson, one of the most able men on the detective staff, had, indeed, his work cut out. The police were extremely reticent, but, in spite of this, one or two facts gradually found their way into the papers, and aroused public interest and curiosity to its highest pitch.
“What had transpired was this:
“Clara Knight, the dresser, had been very rigorously cross-questioned, and, from her many statements, the following seemed quite positive.
“After the curtain had rung up for the second act, and Miss Morgan had left her dressing-room, Knight had waited about for some time, and had even, it appears, handled and admired the necklace. Then, unfortunately, she was seized with the burning desire of seeing the famous scene from the wings. She thought that the place was quite safe, and that George Finch was as usual at his post.
The Case of Miss Elliott Page 18
