Cleek, the Master Detective

by Mary Roberts Rinehart

  CHAPTER V

  THE RIDDLE OF THE NINTH FINGER

  The inn of "The Three Jolly Fishermen," which, as you may know, lies onthe left bank of the Thames, within a gunshot of Richmond, was all butempty when Cleek, answering the superintendent's note, strolled into it,and discovered Narkom enjoying his tea in solitary state at a littleround table in the embrasure of a bay window at the far end of thelittle private parlour which lies immediately behind the bar-room.

  "My dear fellow, do pardon me for not waiting," said the superintendent,as his famous ally entered, looking like a college-bred athlete in hisboating flannels and his brim-tilted panama, "but the fact is, you're alittle behind time for once, and besides, I was absolutely famishing."

  "Share the blame of my lateness with me, Mr. Narkom," said Cleek, as hetossed aside his hat and threw the fag-end of the cigarette he wassmoking out through the open window. "You said in your note that therewas no immediate necessity for haste, so I improved the shining hour byanother spin down the river. It isn't often that duty-calls bring me toa little Eden like this. The air is like balm to-day, and as for theriver--oh, the river is a sheer delight!"

  Narkom rang for a fresh pot of tea and a further supply of butteredtoast, and, when these were served, Cleek sat down and joined him.

  "I dare say," said the superintendent, opening fire at once, "that youwonder what in the world induced me to bring you out here to meet me,my dear fellow, instead of following the usual course and calling atClarges Street? Well, the fact is, Cleek, that the gentleman with whom Iam now about to put you in touch lives in this vicinity, and is soplaced that he cannot get away without running the risk of having thestep he is taking discovered."

  "Humph! He is closely spied upon, then?" commented Cleek. "The troublearises from some one or something in his own household?"

  "No, in his father's. The 'trouble,' so far as I can gather, seems toemanate from his stepmother, a young and very beautiful woman, who wasborn on the island of Java, where the father of our client met andmarried her some two years ago. He had gone there to probe into thetruth of the amazing statement that a runic stone had been unearthed inthat part of the globe."

  "Ah, then you need not tell me the gentleman's name, Mr. Narkom,"interposed Cleek. "I remember perfectly well the stir which thatridiculous and unfounded statement created at the time. Despite the factthat scholars of all nations scoffed at the thing and pointed out thatthe very term 'rune' is of Teutonic origin, one enthusiastic oldgentleman--Mr. Michael Bawdrey, a retired brewer, thirsting forsomething more enduring than malt to carry his name down theages--became fired with enthusiasm upon the subject, and set forth forJava 'hot foot,' as one might say. I remember that the papers made greatgame of him; but I heard, I fancy, that, in spite of all, he was a dear,lovable old chap, and not at all like the creature the cartoonistsportrayed him."

  "What a memory you have, my dear Cleek. Yes, that is the party; and heis a dear, lovable old chap at bottom. Collects old china, old weapons,old armour, curiosities of all sorts--lots of 'em bogus, no doubt, catchthe charlatans among the dealers letting a chance like that slipthem--and is never so happy as when showing his 'collection' to hisfriends and being mistaken by the ignorant for a man of deep learning."

  "A very human trait, Mr. Narkom. We all are anxious that the worldshould set the highest possible valuation upon us. It is only when weare underrated that we object. So this dear, deluded old gentleman,having failed to secure a 'rune' in Java brought back something equallycryptic--a woman? Was the lady of his choice a native or merely aninhabitant of the island?"

  "Merely an inhabitant, my dear fellow. As a matter of fact, she isEnglish. Her father, a doctor, long since deceased, took her out therein her childhood. She was none too well off, I believe: but that did notprevent her having many suitors, among whom was Mr. Bawdrey's own son,the gentleman who is anxious to have you take up this case."

  "Oho!" said Cleek, with a strong rising inflection. "So the lady was ofthe careful and calculating kind? She didn't care for youth and all therest of it when she could have papa and the money-chest without waiting.A common enough occurrence. Still, this does not make up an 'affair,'and especially an 'affair' which requires the assistance of a detective,and you spoke of 'a case.' What is the case, Mr. Narkom?"

  "I will leave Mr. Philip Bawdrey himself to tell you that," said Narkom,as the door opened to admit a young man of about eight and twenty,clothed in tennis flannels, and looking very much perturbed. He was ahandsome, fair-haired, fair-moustached young fellow, with frank, boyisheyes and that unmistakable something which stamps the products of the'Varsities. "Come in, Mr. Bawdrey. You said we were not to wait tea, andyou see that we haven't. Let me have the pleasure of introducingMr.----"

  "Headland," put in Cleek adroitly, and with a look at Narkom as much asto say, "Don't give me away. I may not care to take the case when I hearit, so what's the use of letting everybody know who I am?" Then heswitched round in his chair, rose, and held out his hand. "Mr. GeorgeHeadland, of the Yard, Mr. Bawdrey. I don't trust Mr. Narkom'sproverbially tricky memory for names. He introduced me as Jones once,and I lost the opportunity of handling the case because the party inquestion couldn't believe that anybody named Jones would be likely toferret it out."

  "Funny idea that!" commented young Bawdrey, smiling and accepting theproffered hand. "Rum lot of people you must run across in your line, Mr.Headland. Shouldn't take you for a detective myself, shouldn't even in aroom full of them. College man, aren't you? Thought so. Oxon or Cantab?"

  "Cantab--Emmanuel."

  "Oh, Lord! Never thought I'd ever live to appeal to an Emmanuel man todo anything brilliant. I'm an Oxon chap; Brasenose is my alma mater. Isay, Mr. Narkom, do give me a cup of tea, will you? I had to slip offwhile the others were at theirs, and I've run all the way. Thanks verymuch. Don't mind if I sit in that corner and draw the curtain a little,do you?" his frank, boyish face suddenly clouding. "I don't want to beseen by anybody passing. It's a horrible thing to feel that you arebeing spied upon at every turn, Mr. Headland, and that want of cautionmay mean the death of the person you love best in all the world."

  "Oh, it's that kind of case, is it?" queried Cleek, making room for himto pass round the table and sit in the corner, with his back to thewindow and the loosened folds of the chintz curtain keeping him in theshadow.

  "Yes," answered young Bawdrey, with a half-repressed shudder and adeeper clouding of his rather pale face. "Sometimes I try to make myselfbelieve that it isn't, that it's all fancy, that she never could be soinhuman, and yet how else is it to be explained? You can't go behind theevidence; you can't make things different simply by saying that you willnot believe." He stirred his tea nervously, gulped down a couple ofmouthfuls of it, and then set the cup aside. "I can't enjoy anything; ittakes the savour out of everything when I think of it," he added, with anote of pathos in his voice. "My dad, my dear, bully old dad, the bestand dearest old boy in all the world! I suppose, Mr. Headland, that Mr.Narkom has told you something about the case?"

  "A little--a very little indeed. I know that your father went to Java,and married a second wife there; and I know, too, that you yourself wererather taken with the lady at one time, and that she threw you over assoon as Mr. Bawdrey senior became a possibility."

  "That's a mistake," he replied. "She never threw me over, Mr. Headland;she never had the chance. I found her out long before my father becameanything like what you might call a rival, found her out as a mercenary,designing woman, and broke from her voluntarily. I only wish that I hadknown that he had one serious thought regarding her. I could have warnedhim; I could have spoken then. But I never did find out until it was toolate. Trust her for that. She waited until I had gone up-country to lookafter some fine old porcelains and enamels that the governor had heardabout; then she hurried him off and tricked him into a hasty marriage.Of course, after that I couldn't speak, I wouldn't speak. She was myfather's wife, and he was so proud of her, so happy, dear old boy, thatI'd have be
en little better than a brute to say anything against her."

  "What could you have said if you had spoken?"

  "Oh, lots of things; the things that made me break away from her in thebeginning. She'd had other love affairs for one thing; her late father'smasquerading as a doctor for another. They had only used that as acloak. They had run a gambling-house on the sly--he as the card-sharper,she as the decoy. They had drained one poor fellow dry, and she hadthrown him over after leading him on to think that she cared for him andwas going to marry him. He blew out his brains in front of her, poorwretch. They say she never turned a hair. You wouldn't believe itpossible, if you saw her; she is so sweet and caressing, and so youngand beautiful, you'd almost believe her an angel. But there's Travers inthe background--always Travers!"

  "Travers! Who is he?"

  "Oh, one of her old flames, the only one she ever really cared for, theysay. She was supposed to have broken with him out there in Java, becausethey were too poor to marry; and now he's come over to England, and he'sthere, in the house with the dear old dad and me, and they are as thickas thieves together. I've caught them whispering and prowling abouttogether, in the grounds and along the lanes, after she has said'Good-night' and gone to her room and is supposed to be in bed. There'sa houseful of her old friends three parts of the time. They come andthey go, but Travers never goes. I know why"--waxing suddenly excited,suddenly vehement--"Yes! I know why. He's in the game with her!"

  "Game! What game, Mr. Bawdrey? What is it that she is doing?"

  "She's killing my old dad!" he answered, with a sort of sob in hisexcited voice. "She's murdering him by inches, that's what she's doing,and I want you to help me bring it home to her. God knows what it isshe's using or how she uses it; but you know what demons they are forsecret poisons, those Javanese, what means they have of killing peoplewithout a trace. And she was out there for years and years. So, too, wasTravers, the brute! They know all the secrets of those beastlybarbarians, and between them they're doing something to my old dad."

  "How do you know that?"

  "I don't know it, that's the worst of it. But I couldn't be surer of itif they took me into their secrets. But there's the evidence of hiscondition; there's the fact that it didn't begin until after Traverscame. Look here, Mr. Headland, you don't know my dad. He's got thequeerest notions sometimes. One of his fads is that it's unlucky to makea will. Well, if he dies without one, who will inherit his money, as Iam an only child?"

  "Undoubtedly you and his widow."

  "Exactly. And if I die at pretty nearly the same time--and they'll seeto that, never fear; it will be my turn the moment they are sure ofhim--she will inherit everything. Now, let me tell you what's happening.From being a strong, healthy man, my father has, since Travers'sarrival, begun to be attacked by a mysterious malady. He has periodicalfainting fits, sometimes convulsions. He'll be feeling better for a dayor so; then, without a word of warning, whilst you're talking to him,he'll drop like a shot bird and go into the most horrible convulsions.The doctors can't stop it; they don't even know what it is. They onlyknow that he's fading away--turning from a strong, virile old man into athin, nervous, shivering wreck. But I know! I know! They're dosing himsomehow with some diabolical Javanese thing, those two. Andyesterday--God help me!--yesterday I, too, dropped like a shot bird; I,too, had the convulsions and the weakness and the fainting fit. My timehas begun also!"

  "Bless my soul! what a diabolical thing!" put in Narkom agitatedly. "Nowonder you appealed to me!"

  "No wonder!" Bawdrey replied. "I felt that it had gone as far as I daredlet it; that it was time to call in the police and to have help beforeit was too late. That's the case, Mr. Headland. I want you to find someway of getting at the truth, of looking into Travers's luggage, into mystepmother's effects, and unearthing the horrible stuff with which theyare doing this thing; and perhaps, when that is known, some antidote maybe found to save the dear old dad and restore him to what he was. Can'tyou do this? For God's sake, say that you can."

  "At all events, I can try, Mr. Bawdrey," responded Cleek.

  "Oh, thank you, thank you!" said Bawdrey gratefully. "I don't care ahang what it costs, what your fees are, Mr. Headland. So long as you runthose two to earth, and get hold of the horrible stuff, whatever it is,that they are using, I'll pay any price in the world, and count it cheapas compared with the life of my dear old dad. When can you take hold ofthe case? Now?"

  "I'm afraid not. Mysterious things like this require a little thinkingover. Suppose we say to-morrow noon? Will that do?"

  "I suppose it must, although I should have liked to take you back withme. Every moment's precious at a time like this. But if it must bedelayed until to-morrow--well, it must, I suppose. But I'll take jollygood care that nobody gets a chance to come within touching distance ofthe pater, bless him! until you do come, if I have to sit on the matbefore his door until morning. Here's the address on this card, Mr.Headland. When and how shall I expect to see you again? You'll use analias, of course?"

  "Oh, certainly! Had you any old friend in your college days whom yourfather knew only by name and who is now too far off for the imposture tobe discovered?"

  "Yes. Jim Rickaby. We were as inseparable as the Siamese twins in ourundergrad. days. He's in Borneo now. Haven't heard from him in a dog'sage."

  "Couldn't be better," said Cleek. "Then 'Jim Rickaby' let it be.You'll get a letter from him first thing in the morning saying thathe's back in England, and about to run down and spend the week-endwith you. At noon he will arrive, accompanied by his Borneo servantnamed--er--Dollops. You can put the 'blackie' up in some quarter of thehouse where he can move about at will without disturbing any of your ownservants and can get in and out at all hours; he will be useful, youknow, in prowling about the grounds at night and ascertaining if thelady really does go to bed when she retires to her room. As for 'JimRickaby' himself--well, you can pave the way for his operations byinforming your father, when you get the letter, that he has gone daft onthe subject of old china and curios and things of that sort, don't youknow."

  "What a ripping idea!" commented young Bawdrey. "I twig. He'll getchummy with you of course, and you can lead him on and adroitly 'pump'him regarding her, and where she keeps her keys and things like that.That's the idea, isn't it?"

  "Something of that sort. I'll find out all about her, never fear," saidCleek in reply. Then they shook hands and parted, and it was not untilafter young Bawdrey had gone that either he or Narkom recollected thatCleek had overlooked telling the young man that Headland was not hisname.

  "Oh, well, it doesn't matter. Time enough to tell him that when it comesto making out the cheque," said Cleek, as the superintendent remarkedupon the circumstance. Then he pushed back his chair and walked over tothe window, and stood looking silently out upon the flowing river.Narkom did not disturb his reflections. He knew from past experience, aswell as from the manner in which he took his lower lip between his teethand drummed with his finger-tips upon the window ledge, that some idearelative to the working out of the case had taken shape within his mind,and so, with the utmost discretion, went on with his tea and refrainedfrom speaking. Suddenly Cleek turned. "Mr. Narkom, do me a favour, willyou? Look me up a copy of Holman's 'Diseases of the Kidneys' when you goback to town. I'll send Dollops round to the Yard to-night to get it."

  "Right you are," said Narkom, taking out his pocket-book and making anote of it. "But I say, look here, my dear fellow, you can't possiblybelieve that it's anything of that sort, anything natural, I mean, inthe face of what we've heard?"

  "No, I don't. I think it's something confoundedly unnatural, and thatthat poor old chap is being secretly and barbarously murdered. I thinkthat--and--I think, too----" His voice trailed off. He stood silent andpreoccupied for a moment, and then, putting his thoughts into words,without addressing them to anybody: "Ayupee!" he said reflectively;"Pohon-Upas, Antjar, Galanga root, Ginger and Black Pepper--that's theJavanese method of procedure, I believe. Ayupee!--yes, assuredly,Ayupee!"


  "What the dickens are you talking about, Cleek? And what does all thatgibberish and that word 'Ayupee' mean?"

  "Nothing--nothing. At least, just yet. I say, put on your hat and let'sgo for a pull on the river, Mr. Narkom. I've had enough of mysteries forto-day and am spoiling for another hour in a boat."

  Then he screwed round on his heel and walked out into the brilliantsummer sunshine.

  II

  Promptly at the hour appointed "Mr. Jim Rickaby" and his black servantarrived at Laburnam Villa and certainly the former had no cause tocomplain of the welcome he received at the hands of his beautiful younghostess.

  He found her not only an extremely lovely woman to the eye, but onewhose gentle, caressing ways, whose soft voice and simple girlish charmwere altogether fascinating, and, judging from outward appearances, fromthe tender solicitude for her elderly husband's comfort and well-being,from the look in her eyes when she spoke to him, the gentleness of herhand when she touched him, one would have said that she really and trulyloved him, and that it needed no lure of gold to draw this particularMay to the arms of this one December.

  He found Captain Travers a laughing, rollicking, fun-loving type ofman--at least, to all outward appearances--who seemed to delight insports and games and to have an almost childish love of card tricks andthat species of entertainment which is known as parlour magic. He foundthe three other members of the little house-party--to wit: Mrs.Somerby-Miles, Lieutenant Forshay, and Mr. Robert Murdock--respectively,a silly, flirtatious, little gadfly of a widow; a callow, love-struck,lap-dog, young naval officer, with a budding moustache and a full-blownidea of his own importance; a dour Scotchman of middle age, with apassion for chess, a glowering scorn of frivolities, a deep abidingconviction that Scotland was the only country in the world for aself-respecting human being to dwell in, and that everything outside ofthe Established Church was foredoomed to flames and sulphur and theperpetual prodding of red-hot pitchforks. And last, but not least by anymeans, he found Mr. Michael Bawdrey just what he had been told he wouldfind him, namely, a dear, lovable, sunny-tempered old man, who fairlyidolized his young wife and absolutely adored his frank-faced,affectionate, big boy of a son, and who ought not, in the common courseof things, to have an enemy or an evil wisher in all the world.

  The news, which, of course, had preceded Cleek's arrival, that thiswhilom college chum of his son's was as great an enthusiast as hehimself on the subject of old china, old porcelain, bric-a-brac, andcurios of every sort, filled him with the utmost delight, and he couldscarcely refrain from rushing him off at once to view his famouscollection.

  "Michael, dear, you mustn't overdo yourself just because you happen tohave been a little stronger these past two days," said his wife, layinga gentle hand upon his arm. "Besides, we must give Mr. Rickaby time tobreathe. He has had a long journey, and I am sure he will want to rest.You can take him in to see that wonderful collection after dinner,dear."

  "Humph! Full of fakes, as I supposed--and she knows it," was Cleek'smental comment upon this. And he was not surprised when, finding herselfalone with him a few minutes later, she said, in her pretty, pleadingway:

  "Mr. Rickaby, if you are an expert, don't undeceive him. I could not letyou go to see the collection without first telling you. It is full ofbogus things, full of frauds and shams that unscrupulous dealers havepalmed off on him. But don't let him know. He takes such pride in them,and--and he's breaking down. God pity me, his health is breaking downevery day, Mr. Rickaby, and I want to spare him every pang, if I can,even so little a pang as the discovery that the things he prizes are notreal."

  "Set your mind at rest, Mrs. Bawdrey," promised Cleek. "He will notfind it out from me. He will not find anything out from me. He is justthe kind of man to break his heart, to crumple up like a burnt glove,and come to the end of all things, even life, if he were to discoverthat any of his treasures, anything that he loved and trusted in, is asham and a fraud."

  His eyes looked straight into hers as he spoke, his hand rested lightlyon her sleeve. She sucked in her breath suddenly, a brief pallor chasedthe roses from her cheeks, a brief confusion sat momentarily upon her.She appeared to hesitate, then looked away and laughed uneasily.

  "I don't think I quite grasp what you mean, Mr. Rickaby," she said.

  "Don't you?" he made answer. "Then I will tell you some time--tomorrow,perhaps. But if I were you, Mrs. Bawdrey--well, no matter. This Ipromise you: that dear old man shall have no ideal shattered by me."

  And, living up to that promise, he enthused over everything the old manhad in his collection when, after dinner that night, they went, incompany with Philip, to view it. But bogus things were on every hand.Spurious porcelains, fraudulent armour, faked china were everywhere. Theloaded cabinets and the glazed cases were one long procession of fakedDresden and bogus faience, of Egyptian enamels that had beenmanufactured in Birmingham, and of sixth-century "treasures" whosemakers were still plying the trade and battening upon the ignorance ofcollectors.

  "Now, here's a thing I am particularly proud of," said the gulled oldman, reaching into one of the cases and holding out for Cleek'sadmiration an irregular disc of dull, hammered gold that had aniridescent beetle embedded in the flat face of it. "This scarab, Mr.Rickaby, has helped to make history, as one might say. It was once theproperty of Cleopatra. I was obliged to make two trips to Egypt before Icould persuade the owner to part with it. I am always conscious of acertain sense of awe, Mr. Rickaby, when I touch this wonderful thing. Tothink, sir, to think! that this bauble once rested on the bosom of thatmarvellous woman; that Mark Antony must have seen it, may have touchedit; that Ptolemy Auletse knew all about it, and that it is older, sir,than the Christian religion itself!"

  He held it out upon the flat of his palm, the better for Cleek to seeand to admire it, and signed to his son to hand the visitor a magnifyingglass.

  "Wonderful, most wonderful!" observed Cleek, bending over the spuriousgem and focussing the glass upon it; not, however, for the purpose ofstudying the fraud, but to examine something he had justnoticed--something round and red and angry-looking--which marked thepalm itself, at the base of the middle finger. "No wonder you are proudof such a prize. I think I should go off my head with rapture if I ownedan antique like that. But, pardon me, have you met with an accident, Mr.Bawdrey? That's an ugly place you have on your palm."

  "That? Oh, that's nothing," he answered gaily. "It itches a great dealat times, but otherwise it isn't troublesome. I can't think how in theworld I got it, to tell the truth. It came out as a sort of red blisterin the beginning, and since it broke it has been spreading a great deal.But, really, it doesn't amount to anything at all."

  "Oh, that's just like you, dad," put in Philip, "always making light ofthe wretched thing. I notice one thing, however, Rickaby, it seems togrow worse instead of better. And dad knows as well as I do when itbegan. It came out suddenly about a fortnight ago, after he had beenholding some green worsted for my stepmother to wind into balls. Justlook at it, will you, old chap?"

  "Nonsense, nonsense!" chimed in the old man laughingly. "Don't mind thesilly boy, Mr. Rickaby. He will have it that that green worsted is toblame, just because he happened to spy the thing the morning after."

  "Let's have a look at it," said Cleek, moving nearer the light. Then,after a close examination, "I don't think it amounts to anything, afterall," he added, as he laid aside the glass. "I shouldn't worry myselfabout it if I were you, Phil. It's just an ordinary blister, nothingmore. Let's go on with the collection, Mr. Bawdrey; I'm deeplyinterested in it, I assure you. Never saw such a marvellous lot. Got anymore amazing things, gems, I mean, like that wonderful scarab? Isay!"--halting suddenly before a long, narrow case with a glass front,which stood on end in a far corner, and, being lined with black velvet,brought into ghastly prominence the suspended shape of a human skeletoncontained within--"I say! What the dickens is this? Looks like adoctor's specimen, b'gad. You haven't let anybody--I mean, you haven'tbeen buying any prehistoric bon
es, have you, Mr. Bawdrey?"

  "Oh, that?" laughed the old man, turning round and seeing to what he wasalluding. "Oh, that's a curiosity of quite a different sort, Mr.Rickaby. You are saying it looks like a doctor's specimen. It is--or,rather, it was. Mrs. Bawdrey's father was a doctor, and it once belongedto him. Properly, it ought to have no place in a collection of thissort, but--well, it's such an amazing thing I couldn't quite refuse it aplace, sir. It's a freak of nature. The skeleton of a nine-fingeredman."

  "Of a what?"

  "A nine-fingered man."

  "Well, I can't say that I see anything remarkable in that. I've got ninefingers myself, nine and one over, when it comes to that."

  "No, you haven't, you duffer!" put in young Bawdrey, with a laugh."You've got eight fingers--eight fingers and two thumbs. This bonyJohnny has nine fingers and two thumbs. That's what makes him a freak. Isay, dad, open the beggar's box, and let Rickaby see."

  His father obeyed the request. Lifting the tiny brass latch which alonesecured it, he swung open the glazed door of the case, and, reaching in,drew forward the flexible left arm of the skeleton.

  "There you are," he said, supporting the bony hand upon his palm, sothat all its fingers were spread out and Cleek might get a clear view ofthe monstrosity. "What a trial he must have been to the glove trade,mustn't he?" laughing gaily. "Fancy the confusion and dismay, Mr.Rickaby, if a fellow like this walked into a Bond Street shop and askedfor a pair of gloves in a hurry."

  Cleek bent over and examined the thing with interest. At first glancethe hand was no different from any other skeleton hand one might see anyday in any place where they sold anatomical specimens for the use ofmembers of the medical profession; but as Mr. Bawdrey, holding it on thepalm of his right hand, flattened it out with the fingers of his left,the abnormality at once became apparent. Springing from the base of thefourth finger, a perfectly developed fifth appeared, curling inwardtoward what had once been the palm of the hand, as though, in life, ithad been the owner's habit of screening it from observation by holdingit in that position. It was, however, perfectly flexible, and Mr.Bawdrey had no difficulty in making it lie out flat after the manner ofits mates.

  The sight was not inspiring--the freaks of Mother Nature rarely are. Noone but a doctor would have cared to accept the thing as a gift, and noone but a man as mad on the subject of curiosities and with as littlesense of discrimination as Mr. Bawdrey would have dreamt for a moment ofadding it to a collection.

  "It's rather uncanny," said Cleek, who had no palate for the abnormalin Nature. "For myself, I may frankly admit that I don't like things ofthat sort about me."

  "You are very much like my wife in that," responded the old man. "Shewas of the opinion that the skeleton ought to have been destroyed orelse handed over to some anatomical museum. But--well, it is acuriosity, you know, Mr. Rickaby. Besides, as I have said, it was oncethe property of her late father, a most learned man, sir, most learned,and as it was of sufficient interest for him to retain it--oh, well, wecollectors are faddists, you know, so I easily persuaded Mrs. Bawdrey toallow me to bring it over to England with me when we took our leave ofJava. And now that you have seen it, suppose we have a look at moreartistic things. I have some very fine specimens of neolithic implementsand weapons which I am most anxious to show you. Just step this way,please."

  He let the skeleton's hand slip from his own, swing back into the case,and forthwith closed the glass door upon it; then, leading the way tothe cabinet containing the specimens referred to, he unlocked it, andinvited Cleek's opinion of the flint arrow-heads, stone hatchets, andgranite utensils within.

  For a minute they lingered thus, the old man talking, laughing, exultingin his possessions, the detective examining and pretending to be deeplyimpressed. Then, of a sudden, without hint or warning to lessen theshock of it, the uplifted lid of the cabinet fell with a crash from thehand that upheld it, shivering the glass into fifty pieces, and Cleek,screwing round on his heel with a "jump" of all his nerves, was in timeto see the figure of his host crumple up, collapse, drop like a thingshot dead, and lie writhing on the polished floor.

  "Dad! Oh, heavens! Dad!" The cry was young Bawdrey's. He seemed fairlyto throw himself across the intervening space and to reach his father inthe instant he fell. "Now you know! Now you know!" he went on wildly,as Cleek dropped down beside him and began to loosen the old man'scollar. "It's like this always; not a hint, not a sign, but just thisutter collapse. My God, what are they doing it with? How are theymanaging it, those two? They're coming, Headland. Listen! Don't you hearthem?"

  The crash of the broken glass and the jar of the old man's fall hadswept through all the house, and a moment later, headed by Mrs. Bawdreyherself, all the members of the little house-party came piling excitedlyinto the room.

  The fright and suffering of the young wife seemed very real as she threwherself down beside her husband and caught him to her with a littleshuddering cry. Then her voice, uplifting in a panic, shrilled out awild appeal for doctor, servants--help of any kind. And, almost as shespoke, Travers was beside her, Travers and Forshay and RobertMurdock--yes, and silly little Mrs. Somerby-Miles, too, forgetting inthe face of such a time as this to be anything but helpful andwomanly--and all of these gave such assistance as was in their power.

  "Help me get him up to his own room, somebody, and send a servantpost-haste for the doctor," said Captain Travers, taking the lead afterthe fashion of a man who is used to command. "Calm yourself as much aspossible, Mrs. Bawdrey. Here, Murdock, lend a hand and help him."

  "Eh, mon, there is nae help but Heaven's in sic a case as this,"dolefully responded Murdock, as he came forward and solemnly stooped toobey. "The puir auld laddie! The Laird giveth and the Laird taketh awa',and the weel o' mon is as naething."

  "Oh, stow your croaking, you blundering old fool!" snapped Travers, asMrs. Bawdrey gave a heart-wrung cry and hid her face in her hands. "Youand your eternal doldrums! Here, Bawdrey, lend a hand, old chap. We canget him upstairs without the assistance of this human trombone, I know."

  But "this human trombone" was not minded that they should; and so itfell out that, when Lieutenant Forshay led Mrs. Somerby-Miles from theroom, and young Bawdrey and Captain Travers carried the stricken man upthe stairs to his own bedchamber, his wife flying in advance to see thateverything was prepared for him, Cleek, standing all alone beside theshattered cabinet, could hear Mr. Robert Murdock's dismal croakingsrumbling steadily out as he mounted the staircase with the others.

  For a moment after the closing door of a room overhead had shut themfrom his ears, he stood there, with puckered brows and pursed-up lips,drumming with his finger-tips a faint tattoo upon the framework of theshattered lid; then he walked over to the skeleton case, and silentlyregarded the gruesome thing within.

  "Nine fingers," he muttered sententiously, "and the ninth curves inwardto the palm!" He stepped round and viewed the case from all points; bothsides, the front, and even the narrow space made at the back by theangle of the corner where it stood. And after this he walked to theother end of the room, took the key from the lock, slipped it in hispocket, and went out, closing the door behind him, that none mightremember it had not been locked when the master of the place was carriedabove.

  It was, perhaps, twenty minutes later that young Bawdrey came down andfound him all alone in the smoking-room, bending over the table whereonthe butler had set the salver containing the whisky decanter, the sodasiphon, and the glasses that were always laid out there that thegentlemen might help themselves to the regulation "night-cap" beforegoing to bed.

  "I've slipped away to have a word in private with you, Headland," hesaid in an agitated voice, as he came in. "Oh, what consummate actorsthey are, those two. You'd think her heart was breaking, wouldn't you?You'd think---- Hallo! I say! What on earth are you doing?" For as hecame nearer he could see that Cleek had removed the glass stopper of thedecanter, and was tapping with his finger-tips a little funnel of whitepaper, the narrow end of which he had thrust into
the neck of thebottle.

  "Just adding a harmless little sleeping-draught to the nightlybeverage," said Cleek, in reply, as he screwed up the paper funnel andput it in his pocket. "A good sound sleep is an excellent thing, my dearfellow, and I mean to make sure that the gentlemen of this house-partyhave it--one gentleman in particular: Captain Travers."

  "Yes; but--I say! What about me, old chap? I don't want to be drugged,and you know I have to show them the courtesy of taking a 'night-cap'with them."

  "Precisely. That's where you can help me out. If any of them remarkanything about the whisky having a peculiar taste, you must stoutlyassert that you don't notice; and, as they've seen you drinking from thesame decanter--why, there you are. Don't worry over it. It's a very,very harmless draught; you won't even have a headache from it. Listenhere, Bawdrey. Somebody is poisoning your father."

  "I know it. I told you so from the beginning, Headland," he answered,with a sort of wail. "But what's that got to do with drugging thewhisky?"

  "Everything. I'm going to find out to-night whether Captain Travers isthat somebody or not. Sh-h-h! Don't get excited. Yes, that's my game. Iwant to get into his room whilst he is sleeping, and be free to searchhis effects. I want to get into every man's room here, and wherever Ifind poison--well, you understand?"

  "Yes," he replied, brightening as he grasped the import of the matter."What a ripping idea! And so simple."

  "I think so. Once let me find the poison, and I'll know my man. Now, oneother thing: the housekeeper must have a master-key that opens all thebedrooms in the place. Get it for me. It will be easier and swifter thanpicking the locks."

  "Right you are, old chap. I'll slip up to Mrs. Jarret's room and fetchit to you at once."

  "No; tuck it under the mat just outside my door. As it won't do for meto be drugged as well as the rest of you, I shan't put in an appearancewhen the rest come down. Say I've got a headache, and have gone to bed.As for my own 'night-cap'--well, I can send Dollops down to get thebutler to pour me one out of another decanter, so that will be allright. Now, toddle off and get the key, there's a good chap. And, I say,Bawdrey, as I shan't see you again until morning--good-night."

  "Good-night, old chap!" he answered in his impulsive, boyish way. "Youare a friend, Headland. And you'll save my dad, God bless you! A true,true friend that's what you are. Thank God I ran across you."

  Cleek smiled and nodded to him as he passed out and hurried away; then,hearing the other gentlemen coming down the stairs, he, too, made hasteto get out of the room and to creep up to his own after they hadassembled, and the cigar cabinet and the whisky were being passed round,and the doctor was busy above with the man who was somebody's victim.

  * * * * *

  The big old grandfather clock at the top of the stairs pointed tenminutes past two, and the house was hushed of every sound save thatwhich is the evidence of deep sleep, when the door of Cleek's room swungquietly open, and Cleek himself, in dressing-gown and wadded bedroomslippers, stepped out into the dark hall, and, leaving Dollops on guard,passed like a shadow over the thick, unsounding carpet.

  The rooms of all the male occupants of the house, including that ofPhilip Bawdrey himself, opened upon this passage. He went to each inturn, unlocked it, stepped in, closed it after him, and lit the bedroomcandle.

  The sleeping-draught had accomplished all that was required of it; andin each and every room he entered--Captain Travers's, LieutenantForshay's, Mr. Robert Murdock's--there lay the occupant thereofstretched out at full length in the grip of that deep and heavy sleepwhich comes of drugs.

  Cleek made the round of the rooms as quietly as any shadow, evenstopping as he passed young Bawdrey's on his way back to his own to peepin there. Yes; he, too, had got his share of the effective draught, forthere he lay snarled up in the bedclothes, with his arms over his headand his knees drawn up until they were on a level with his waist, andhis handsome boyish face a little paler than usual.

  Cleek didn't go into the room, simply looked at him from the threshold,then shut the door, and went back to Dollops.

  "All serene, guv'ner?" questioned that young man in an eager whisper.

  "Yes, quite," his master replied, as he turned to a writing-tablewhereon there lay a sealed note, and, pulling out the chair, sat downbefore it and took up a pen. "Wait a bit, and then you can go to bed.I'll give you still another note to deliver. While I'm writing it youmay lay out my clothes."

  "Slipping off, sir?"

  "Yes. You will stop here, however. Now, then, hold your tongue; I'mbusy."

  Then he pulled a sheet of paper to him and wrote rapidly:

  DEAR MR. BAWDREY--I've got my man, and am off to consult with Mr. Narkom and to have what I've found analysed. I don't know when I shall be back--probably not until the day after to-morrow. You are right. It is murder, and Java is at the bottom of it. Dollops will hand you this. Say nothing--just wait till I get back.

  This he slipped, unsigned in his haste, into an envelope, handed it toDollops, and then fairly jumped into his clothes. Ten minutes later hewas out of the house, and--the end of the riddle was in sight.

  III

  On the morrow Mrs. Bawdrey made known the rather surprising piece ofnews that Mr. Rickaby had written her a note to say that he had receiveda communication of such vital importance that he had been obliged toleave the house that morning before anybody was up, and might not beable to return to it for several days.

  "No very great hardship in that, my dear," commented Mrs. Somerby-Miles,"for a more stupid and uninteresting person I never encountered. Fancy!he never even offered to assist the gentlemen to get poor Mr. Bawdreyupstairs last night. How is the poor old dear this morning, darling?Better?"

  "Yes--much," said Mrs. Bawdrey in reply. "Doctor Phillipson came to thehouse before four o'clock, and brought some wonderful new medicine thathas simply worked wonders. Of course, he will have to stop in bed and beperfectly quiet for three or four days; but, although the attack was byfar the worst he has ever had, the doctor feels quite confident that hewill pull him safely through."

  Now although, in the light of her apparent affection for her agedhusband, she ought, one would have thought, to be exceedingly happyover this, it was distinctly noticeable that she was nervous and ill atease, that there was a hunted look in her eyes, and that, as the daywore on, these things seemed to be accentuated. More than that, thereseemed added proof of the truth of young Bawdrey's assertion that sheand Captain Travers were in league with each other, for that day theywere constantly together, constantly getting off into out-of-the-wayplaces, and constantly talking in an undertone of something that seemedto worry them.

  Even when dinner was over, and the whole party adjourned to thedrawing-room for coffee, and the lady ought, in all conscience, to havegiven herself wholly up to the entertainment of her guests, it wasobservable that she devoted most of her time to whispered conferenceswith Captain Travers. They kept going to the window and looking up atthe sky, as if worried and annoyed that the twilight should be so longin fading and the night in coming on. But worse than this, at teno'clock Captain Travers made an excuse of having letters to write, andleft the room, and it was scarcely six minutes later that she followedsuit.

  But the captain had not gone to write letters, as it had happened.Instead, he had gone straight to the morning-room, an apartmentimmediately behind that in which the elder Mr. Bawdrey's collection washoused, and from which a broad French window opened out upon thegrounds, and it might have caused a scandal had it been known that Mrs.Bawdrey joined him there one minute after leaving the drawing-room.

  "It is the time, Walter, it is the time!" she said in a breathless sortof way, as she closed the door and moved across the room to where hestood, a dimly-seen figure in the dim light. "God help and pity me! butI am so nervous I hardly know how to contain myself. The note said atten to-night in the morning-room, and it is ten now. The hour is here,Walter, the hour is here!"

  "
So is the man, Mrs. Bawdrey," answered a low voice from the outerdarkness; then a figure lifted itself above the screening shrubs justbeyond the ledge of the open window, and Cleek stepped into the room.

  She gave a little hysterical cry and reached out her hands to him.

  "Oh, I am so glad to see you, even though you hint at such awful things,I am so glad, so glad!" she said. "I almost died when I read your note.To think that it is murder--murder! And but for you he might be deadeven now. You will like to know that the doctor brought the stuff yousent by him and my darling is better--better."

  Before Cleek could venture any reply to this, Captain Travers stalkedacross the room and gripped his hand.

  "And so you are that great man Cleek, are you?" he said. "Bully boy!Bully boy! And to think that all the time it wasn't some mysteriousnatural affliction; to think that it was crime, murder, poison. Whatpoison, man, what poison?"

  "Ayupee, or, as it is variously called in the several islands of theEastern Archipelago, Pohon-Upas, Antjar, and Ipo," said Cleek in reply."The deadly venom which the Malays use in poisoning the heads of theirarrows."

  "What! that awful stuff!" said Mrs. Bawdrey, with a little shudderingcry. "And some one in this house----" Her voice broke. She plucked atCleek's sleeve and looked up at him in an agony of entreaty. "Who?" sheimplored. "Who in this house could? You said you would tellto-night--you said you would. Oh, who could have the heart? Ah! who? Itis true, if you have not heard it, that once upon a time there was badblood between Mr. Murdock and him; that Mr. Murdock is a familyconnection; but even he, oh, even he---- Tell me--tell me, Mr. Cleek?"

  "Mrs. Bawdrey, I can't just yet," he made reply. "In my heart I am ascertain of it as though the criminal had confessed; but I am waiting fora sign, and, until that comes, absolute proof is not possible. That itwill come, and may, indeed, come at any moment now that it is quitedark, I am very certain. When it does----"

  He stopped and threw up a warning hand. As he spoke a queer thuddingsound struck one dull note through the stillness of the house. He stood,bent forward, listening, absolutely breathless; then, on the other sideof the wall, there rippled and rolled a something that was like thesound of a struggle between two voiceless animals, and--the sign that heawaited had come!

  "Follow me quickly, as noiselessly as you can. Let no one hear, let noone see!" he said in a breath of excitement. Then he sprang cat-like tothe door, whirled it open, scudded round the angle of the passage to theentrance of the room where the fraudulent collection was kept, and wentin with the silent fleetness of a panther. And a moment later, whenCaptain Travers and Mrs. Bawdrey swung in through the door and joinedhim, they came upon a horrifying sight.

  For there, leaning against the open door of the case where the skeletonof the nine-fingered man hung, was Dollops, bleeding and faint, and witha score of toothmarks on his neck and throat. On the floor at his feetCleek was kneeling on the writhing figure of a man who bit and tore andsnarled like a cornered wolf and fought with teeth and feet and handsalike in the wild effort to get free from the grip of destiny. A lockedhandcuff clamped one wrist, and from it swung, at the end of theconnecting chain, its unlocked mate; the marks of Dollops's fists wereon his lips and cheeks, and at the foot of the case, where the hangingskeleton doddered and shook to the vibration of the floor, lay ashattered phial of deep-blue glass.

  "Got you, you hound!" said Cleek through his teeth as he wrenched theman's two wrists together and snapped the other handcuff into place."You beast of ingratitude--you Judas! Kissing and betraying like anyother Iscariot! And a dear old man like that! Look here, Mrs. Bawdrey;look here, Captain Travers; what do you think of a little rat likethis?"

  They came forward at his word, and, looking down, saw that the figure hewas bending over was the figure of Philip Bawdrey.

  "Oh!" gulped Mrs. Bawdrey, and then shut her two hands over her eyes andfell away weak and shivering. "Oh, Mr. Cleek, it can't be--it can't! Todo a thing like that?"

  "Oh, he'd have done worse, the little reptile, if he hadn't been pulledup short," said Cleek in reply. "He'd have hanged you for it, if it hadgone the way he planned. You look in your boxes; you, too, CaptainTravers. I'll wager each of you finds a phial of Ayupee hidden amongthem somewhere. Came in to put more of the cursed stuff on the ninthfinger of the skeleton, so that it would be ready for the next time,didn't he, Dollops?"

  "Yes, guv'ner. I waited for him behind the case just as you told me to,sir, and when he ups and slips the finger of the skilligan into the neckof the bottle, I nips out and whacks the bracelet on him. But he was tooquick for me, sir, so I only got one on; and then, the hound, he turnson me like a blessed hyena, sir, and begins a-chawin' of me windpipe. Isay, guv'ner, take off his silver wristlets, will you, sir, and lemmehave jist ten minutes with him on my own? Five for me, sir, and five forhis poor old dad!"

  "Not I," said Cleek. "I wouldn't let you soil those honest hands ofyours on his vile little body, Dollops. Thought you had a noodle to dealwith, didn't you, Mr. Philip Bawdrey? Thought you could lead me by thenose, and push me into finding those phials just where you wanted themfound, didn't you? Well, you've got a few more thoughts coming. Lookhere, Captain Travers; what do you think of this fellow's little game?Tried to take me in about you and Mrs. Bawdrey being lovers, and tryingto do away with him and his father to get the old man's money."

  "Why, the contemptible little hound! Bless my soul, man, I'm engaged toMrs. Bawdrey's cousin. And as for his stepmother, why, she threw thelittle worm over as soon as he began making love to her, and tried tomake her take up with him by telling her how much he'd be worth when hisfather died."

  "I guessed as much. I didn't fancy him from the first moment; and he wasso blessed eager to have me begin by suspecting you two, that I smelt arat at once. Oh, but he's been crafty enough in other things. Puttingthat devilish stuff on the ninth finger of the skeleton, and neverlosing an opportunity to get his poor old father to handle it and toshow it to people. It's a strong, irritant poison--sap of the upas treeis the base of it--producing first an irritation of the skin, then ablister, and, when that broke, communicating the poison directly to theblood every time the skeleton hand touched it. A weak solution at first,so that the decline would be natural, the growth of the malady gradual.But if I'd found that phial in your room last night, as he hoped andbelieved I had done--well, look for yourself. The finger of the skeletonis thick with the beastly, gummy stuff to-night. Double strength, ofcourse. The next time his father touched it he'd have died beforemorning. And the old chap fairly worshipping him. I suspected him, andsuspected what the stuff that was being used really was from thebeginning. Last night I drugged him, and then I knew."

  "Knew, Mr. Cleek? Why, how could you?"

  "The most virulent poisons have their remedial uses, Captain," he madereply. "You can kill a man with strychnine; you can put him in his gravewith arsenic; you can also use both these powerful agents to cure and tosave, in their proper proportions and in the proper way. The same ruleapplies to ayupee. Properly diluted and properly used, it is one of themost powerful agents for the relief, and, in some cases, the cure, ofBright's disease of the kidneys. But the Government guards this unholydrug most carefully. You can't get a drop of it in Java for love normoney, unless on the order of a recognized physician; and you can'tbring it into the ports of England unless backed by that physician'ssworn statement and the official stamp of the Javanese authorities. Aman undeniably afflicted with Bright's disease could get thesethings--no other could. Well, I wanted to know who had succeeded ingetting ayupee into this country and into this house. Last night Idrugged every man in it, and I found out."

  "But how?"

  "By finding the one who could not sleep stretched out at full length.One of the strongest symptoms of Bright's disease is a tendency to drawthe knees up close to the body in sleep, Captain, and to twist the armsabove the head. Of all the men under this roof, this man here was theonly one who slept like that last night!" He paused and looked down atthe scowling
, sullen creature on the floor. "You wretched little cur!"he said with a gesture of unspeakable contempt. "And all for the sake ofan old man's money! If I did my duty, I'd gaol you. But if I did, itwould be punishing the innocent for the crimes of the guilty. It wouldkill that dear old man to learn this; and so he's not going to learn it,and the law's not going to get its own." He twitched out his hand, andsomething tinkled on the floor. "Get up!" he said sharply. "There's thekey of the handcuffs; take it and set yourself free. Do you know what'sgoing to happen to you? To-morrow morning Dr. Phillipson is going toexamine you, and to report that you'll be a dead man in a year's time ifyou stop another week in this country. You are going out of it, and youare going to stop out of it. Do you understand? _Stop_ out of it to theend of your days. For if ever you put foot in it again I'll handle youas a terrier handles a rat! Dollops?"

  "Yes, guv'ner?"

  "My things packed and ready?"

  "Yes, sir. And all waitin' in the arbour, sir, as you told me to have'em."

  "Good lad! Get them, and we'll catch the first train back. Mrs. Bawdrey,my best respects. Captain, all good luck to you. The riddle is solved.Good-night."