The Yellow Crayon

by E. Phillips Oppenheim

  CHAPTER XXXII

  Mr. Sabin, although he had registered at the hotel under his accustomedpseudonym, had taken no pains to conceal his identity, and was wellknown to the people in authority about the place. He was received withall the respect due to his rank.

  "Your Grace will, I trust, accept my most sincere apologies fordisturbing you," Mr. Hertz, the manager, said, rising and bowing at hisentrance. "We have here, however, an emissary connected with the policecome to inquire into the sad incident of this afternoon. He expressed awish to ask your Grace a question or two with a view to rendering yourGrace's attendance at the inquest unnecessary."

  Mr. Sabin nodded.

  "I am perfectly willing," he said, "to answer any questions you maychoose to put to me."

  A plain, hard-featured little man, in a long black overcoat, and holdinga bowler hat in his hand, bowed respectfully to Mr. Sabin.

  "I am much obliged to you, sir," he said. "My name is John Passmore.We do not of course appear in this matter unless the post-mortem shouldindicate anything unusual in the circumstances of Duson's death, but itis always well to be prepared, and I ventured to ask Mr. Hertz here toprocure for me your opinion as regards the death of your servant."

  "You have asked me," Mr. Sabin said gravely, "a very difficultquestion."

  The eyes of the little detective flashed keenly.

  "You do not believe then, sir, that he died a natural death?"

  "I do not," Mr. Sabin answered.

  Mr. Hertz was startled. The detective controlled his features admirably.

  "May I ask your reasons, sir?"

  Mr. Sabin lightly shrugged his shoulders.

  "I have never known the man to have a day's illness in his life," hesaid. "Further, since his arrival in England he has been acting in astrange and furtive manner, and I gathered that he had some cause forfear which he was indisposed to talk about."

  "This," the detective said, "is very interesting."

  "Doubtless," Mr. Sabin answered. "But before I say anything more Imust clearly understand my position. I am giving you personally a fewfriendly hints, in the interests of justice perhaps, but still quiteinformally. I am not in possession of any definite facts concerningDuson, and what I say to you here I am not prepared to say at theinquest, before which I presume I may have to appear as a witness.There, I shall do nothing more save identify Duson and state thecircumstances under which I found him."

  "I understand that perfectly, sir," the man answered. "The less said atthe inquest the better in the interests of justice."

  Mr. Sabin nodded.

  "I am glad," he said, "that you appreciate that. I do not mind going sofar then as to tell you that I believe Duson died of poison."

  "Can you give me any idea," the detective asked, "as to the source?"

  "None," Mr. Sabin answered. "That you must discover for yourselves.Duson was a man of silent and secretive habits, and it has occurred tome more than once that he might possibly be a member of one of thoseforeign societies who have their headquarters in Soho, and concerningwhich you probably know more than I do."

  The detective smiled. It was a very slight flicker of the lips, but itattracted Mr. Sabin's keen attention.

  "Your suggestions," the detective said, "are making this case a veryinteresting one. I have always understood, however, that reprisals ofthis extreme nature are seldom resorted to in this country. Besides,the man's position seems scarcely to indicate sufficientimportance--perhaps--"

  "Well?" Mr. Sabin interjected.

  "I notice that Duson was found in your sitting-room. It occurs to meas a possibility that he may have met with a fate intended for some oneelse--for yourself, for instance, sir!"

  "But I," Mr. Sabin said smoothly, "am a member of no secret society,nor am I conscious of having enemies sufficiently venomous to desire mylife."

  The detective sat for a moment with immovable face.

  "We, all of us, know our friends, sir," he said. "There are few of usproperly acquainted with our enemies."

  Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette. His fingers were quite steady, but this manwas making him think.

  "You do not seriously believe," he asked, "that Duson met with a deathwhich was intended for me?"

  "I am afraid," the detective said thoughtfully, "that I know no moreabout it than you do."

  "I see," Mr. Sabin said, "that I am no stranger to you."

  "You are very far from being that, sir," the man answered. "A few yearsago I was working for the Government--and you were not often out of mysight."

  Mr. Sabin smiled.

  "It was perhaps judicious," he remarked, "though I am afraid it provedof very little profit to you. And what about the present time?"

  "I see no harm in telling you, sir, that a general watch is kept uponyour movements. Duson was useful to us... but now Duson is dead."

  "It is a fact," Mr. Sabin said impressively, "that Duson was a genius.My admiration for him continually increases."

  "Duson made harmless reports to us as we desired them," the detectivesaid. "I have an idea, however, that if this course had at any time beeninimical to your interests that Duson would have deceived us."

  "I am convinced of it," Mr. Sabin declared.

  "And Duson is dead!"

  Mr. Sabin nodded gravely.

  The little hard-visaged man looked steadily for a moment upon thecarpet.

  "Duson died virtually whilst accepting pay from if not actually in theemploy of our Secret Service Department. You will understand, therefore,that we, knowing of this complication in his life, naturally inclinetowards the theory of murder. Shall I be taking a liberty, sir, if Igive you an unprofessional word of warning?"

  Mr. Sabin raised his eyebrows.

  "By no means," he answered. "But surely you cannot--"

  The man smiled.

  "No, sir," he said drily. "I do not for one moment suspect you. The manwas our spy upon your movements, but I am perfectly aware that there hasbeen nothing worth reporting, and I also know that you would never runsuch a risk for the removal of so insignificant a person. No, my warningcomes to you from a different point of view. It is, if you will pardonmy saying so, none the less personal, but wholly friendly. The case ofDuson will be sifted to the dregs, but unless I am greatly mistaken,and I do not see room for the possibility of a mistake, I know the truthalready."

  "You will share your knowledge?" Mr. Sabin asked quietly.

  The detective shook his head.

  "You shall know," he said, "before the last moment. But I want to warnyou that when you do know it--it will be a shock to you."

  Mr. Sabin stood perfectly still for several moments. This little manbelieved what he was saying. He was certainly deceived. Yet none theless Mr. Sabin was thoughtful.

  "You do not feel inclined," he said slowly, "to give me your entireconfidence."

  "Not at present, sir," the man answered. "You would certainly intervene,and my case would be spoilt."

  Mr. Sabin glanced at the clock.

  "If you care to call on me to-morrow," he said, "I could perhaps showyou something which might change your opinion."

  The detective bowed.

  "I am always open, sir," he said, "to conviction. I will come abouttwelve o'clock."

  Mr. Sabin went back to the palm lounge. Lucille and Reginald Brott weresitting together at a small table, talking earnestly to one another.The Prince and Lady Carey had joined another party who were all talkingtogether near the entrance. The latter, directly she saw them coming,detached herself from them and came to him.

  "Your coffee is almost cold," she said, "but the Prince has found somebrandy of wonderful age, somewhere in the last century, I believe."

  Mr. Sabin glanced towards Lucille. She appeared engrossed in herconversation, and had not noticed his approach. Lady Carey shrugged.

  "You have only a few minutes," she said, "before that dreadful personcomes and frowns us all out. I have kept you a chair."

  Mr. Sabin sat down. Lady Carey interpos
ed herself between him and thesmall table at which Lucille was sitting.

  "Have they discovered anything?" she asked.

  "Nothing!" Mr. Sabin answered.

  She played with her fan for a moment. Then she looked him steadily inthe face.

  "My friend?"

  He glanced towards her.

  "Lady Carey!"

  "Why are you so obstinate?" she exclaimed in a low, passionate whisper."I want to be your friend, and I could be very useful to you. Yet youkeep me always at arm's length. You are making a mistake. Indeed youare. I suppose you do not trust me. Yet reflect. Have I ever told youanything that was not true? Have I ever tried to deceive you? I don'tpretend to be a paragon of the virtues. I live my life to please myself.I admit it. Why not? It is simply applying the same sort of philosophyto my life as you have applied to yours. My enemies can find plenty tosay about me--but never that I have been false to a friend. Why do youkeep me always at arm's length, as though I were one of those who wishedyou evil?"

  "Lady Carey," Mr. Sabin said, "I will not affect to misunderstandyou, and I am flattered that you should consider my good will of anyimportance. But you are the friend of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer. Youare one of those even now who are working actively against me. I am notblaming you, but we are on opposite sides."

  Lady Carey looked for a moment across at the Prince, and her eyes werefull of venom.

  "If you knew," she murmured, "how I loathe that man. Friends! That isall long since past. Nothing would give me so much pleasure as never tosee his face again."

  "Nevertheless," Mr. Sabin reminded her, "whatever your private feelingsmay be, he has claims upon you which you cannot resist."

  "There is one thing in the world," she said in a low tone, "for which Iwould risk even the abnegation of those claims."

  "You would perjure your honour?"

  "Yes--if it came to that."

  Mr. Sabin moved uneasily in his chair. The woman was in earnest. Sheoffered him an invaluable alliance; she could show him the way tohold his own against even the inimical combination by which he wassurrounded. If only he could compromise. But her eyes were seeking hiseagerly, even fiercely.

  "You doubt me still," she whispered. "And I thought that you had genius.Listen, I will prove myself. The Prince has one of his foolish passionsfor Lucille. You know that. So far she has shown herself able to resisthis fascinations. He is trying other means. Lucille is in danger!Duson!--but after all, I was never really in danger, except the timewhen I carried the despatches for the colonel and rode straight into aBoer ambush."

  Mr. Sabin saw nothing, but he did not move a muscle of his face. Amoment later they heard the Prince's voice from behind them.

  "I am very sorry," he said, "to interrupt these interestingreminiscences, but you see that every one is going. Lucille is alreadyin the cloak-room."

  Lady Carey rose at once, but the glance she threw at the Prince was asingularly malicious one. They walked down the carpeted way together,and Lady Carey left them without a word. In the vestibule Mr. Sabin andReginald Brott came face to face.