THE LETTERS IN THE SAFE
The arrival of Arnold, accompanied by Mrs. Weatherley, created a
mild sensation in Tooley Street. Mr. Jarvis, fussier than ever, and
blinking continually behind his gold-rimmed spectacles, followed
them into the private office.
"You have heard nothing of Mr. Weatherley?" Arnold asked.
"Not a word," the cashier answered. "We have rung up several more
places and have tried the hospitals again. We were all hoping that
Mrs. Weatherley had brought us some news."
She shook her head.
"Mr. Weatherley left home exceedingly early this morning," she
announced. "I believe that it was before half-past seven. Except
that he called at the house in Hampstead for the letters, I have not
heard of him since."
"It is most mysterious," Mr. Jarvis declared. "The governor--I beg
your pardon, Mr. Weatherley--is a gentleman of most punctual habits.
There are several matters of business which he knew awaited his
decision to-day. You will excuse me, madam, if I ask whether Mr.
Weatherley seemed in his usual health when he left this morning?"
Fenella smiled faintly.
"Have I not already told you," she said, "that he left the cottage
in the country, where we spent the week-end, before half-past seven
this morning? Naturally, therefore, I did not see him. The servants,
however, noticed nothing unusual. Last night Mr. Chetwode here was
with us, and he can tell you what was apparent to all of us. Mr.
Weatherley seemed then in excellent health and spirits."
Mr. Jarvis had the air of a man hopelessly bewildered. Excellent
servant though he was, nature had not bestowed upon him those gifts
which enable a man to meet a crisis firmly.
"Can you suggest anything that we ought to do, madam?" he asked Mrs.
Weatherley.
"I think," she replied, "that Mr. Chetwode has something to tell
you."
Arnold took the key of the safe from his pocket and turned to the
cashier.
"A few days ago, Mr. Jarvis," he said slowly, "Mr. Weatherley placed
certain documents in that safe and gave me the key. My instructions
from him were to open and examine them with you, if he should be,
for any unexplained cause, absent from business."
Mr. Jarvis looked blankly incredulous.
"Goodness gracious!" he murmured weakly. "Why, that looks almost as
though he expected something of the sort to happen."
"I think," Arnold continued, "that as it is now past three o'clock,
and Mr. Weatherley is still absent, we had better open the safe."
He crossed the room as he spoke, fitted the key in the lock, and
swung the door open. Mrs. Weatherley and the cashier looked over his
shoulder. There were only the two letters there. One was addressed
to Messrs. Turnbull & James, Solicitors; the other jointly to Mr.
Jarvis and Mr. Arnold Chetwode.
[Illustration: Mrs. Weatherley and the cashier looked over his
shoulder. _Page 259_.]
"There is nothing there for me?" Mrs. Weatherley asked,
incredulously.
"There is nothing at all," Arnold replied; "unless there may be an
enclosure. Mr. Jarvis, will you open this envelope?"
Mr. Jarvis took it to the desk and broke the seal with trembling
fingers. He smoothed the letter out, switched on the electric
reading light, and they all read it at the same time. It was written
in Mr. Weatherley's familiar hand, every letter of which was
perfectly distinct and legible.
TO JARVIS AND CHETWODE.
This is a record of certain instructions which I wish
carried out in the event of my unexplained absence from
business at any time.
Firstly--The business is to continue exactly as usual,
and my absence to be alluded to as little as possible. It
can be understood that I am away on the Continent or
elsewhere, on a business voyage.
Secondly--I have deposited a power of attorney at my
solicitors, made out in the joint names of Henry Jarvis
and Arnold Chetwode. This will enable you both to make
and receive contracts on behalf of the firm. As regards
financial affairs, Messrs. Neville, the accountants, have
already the authority to sign cheques, and a
representative from their firm will be in attendance each
day, or according to your request. My letter to Messrs.
Turnbull & James empowers them to make such payments as
are necessary, on the joint application of you two, Henry
Jarvis and Arnold Chetwode, to whom I address this
letter.
Thirdly--I have the most implicit confidence in Henry
Jarvis, who has been in my employ for so many years, and
I beg him to understand that I associate with him one so
much his junior, for certain reasons into which I beg
that he will not inquire.
Fourthly--I repeat that I desire as little publicity as
possible to be given to my absence, and that no money be
spent on advertisements, or any other form of search. If
within two years from the date of the opening of this
letter, I have not been heard from further, I desire that
the usual steps be taken to presume my decease. My will
and all further particulars are with Messrs. Turnbull &
James.
Fifthly--I desire you to pay to my wife the sum of five
hundred pounds monthly. All other matters concerning my
private estate, etc. are embodied in the letter to
Messrs. Turnbull & James.
They all finished reading the letter about the same time. Mr.
Jarvis' bewilderment grew deeper and deeper.
"This is the most extraordinary document I ever read in my life!" he
exclaimed. "Why, it seems as though he had gone away somewhere of
his own accord. After all, it can't be an accident, or anything of
that sort."
Neither Arnold nor Mrs. Weatherley made any immediate reply. She
pointed to the letter.
"When did he write this?" she asked.
"Last Thursday," Arnold replied; "less than a week ago."
She sighed softly.
"Really, it is most mysterious," she said. "I wonder whether he can
have gone out of his mind suddenly, or anything of that sort."
"I have never," Mr. Jarvis declared, "known Mr. Weatherley to
display so much acumen and zest in business as during the last few
days. Some of his transactions have been most profitable. Every one
in the place has remarked upon it."
Mrs. Weatherley took up the lace parasol which she had laid upon the
office table.
"It is all most bewildering," she pronounced. "I think that it is no
use my staying here any longer. I will leave you two to talk of it
together. You have doubtless much business to arrange."
"Are you going back to Bourne End or to Hampstead?" Arnold asked.
She hesitated.
"Really, I am not quite sure," she replied, meeting his gaze without
flinching. "I am beginning to find the heat in town insufferable. I
think, perhaps, that I shall go to Bourne End."
"In that case," Arnold said, "will you allow me to see you there
to-night?"
"To-night?" she repeated, as though in surprise.
"Without a doubt."
She did not answer him for a moment. Meanwhile, the telephone rang,
and Mr. Jarvis was presently engrossed in a business conversation
with a customer. Arnold lowered his voice a little.
"Our discussion at luncheon was only postponed," he reminded her.
"We have seen these documents. We know now that Mr. Weatherley had
some reason to fear an interruption to his everyday life. Directly
or indirectly, that interruption is connected with certain things of
which you and I have spoken together. I am going to ask you,
therefore, to keep your promise. I am going to ask you to tell me
everything that you know."
"Are you not afraid," she asked, "that I shall consider you a very
inquisitive young man?"
"I am afraid of nothing of the sort," Arnold replied. "Mr.
Weatherley's disappearance is too serious a matter for me to take
such trifles into account."
She pointed to the letter which still lay upon the table.
"Is it not his expressed wish that you should make no effort towards
solving the reasons for his disappearance?"
"There is no reason," Arnold answered, doggedly, "why one should not
attempt to understand them."
Mr. Jarvis had finished his telephoning. Fenella went up to him with
outstretched hand.
"Mr. Jarvis," she said, "there is nothing more I can do here. I am
very much upset. Will you take me out to my car, please? I know that
you will do the very best you can without Mr. Weatherley, and I am
glad that you have Mr. Chetwode to help you. I would come down
myself sometimes," she added, "but I am sure that I should only be
in the way. Good afternoon, Mr. Chetwode."
"You have not answered my question," he persisted.
She looked at him as a great lady would look at a presuming servant.
"I see no necessity," she replied. "I am too much upset to receive
visitors to-day. If you are ready, Mr. Jarvis."
She left the room without even a backward glance, closely followed
by the cashier. Arnold stood looking after the retreating figures
for a moment, then he turned away with a hard little laugh. Once
more he read and re-read Mr. Weatherley's letter. Before he had
finished, Mr. Jarvis came bustling back into the room.
"Well!" he exclaimed, dramatically. "Well!"
Arnold looked across at him.
"It's a queer business, isn't it?" he remarked.
"Queer business, indeed!" Mr. Jarvis repeated, sitting down and
wiping his forehead. "It's the most extraordinary thing I ever heard
of in my life. One doesn't read about such things even in books.
Mrs. Weatherley seems to take it quite calmly, but the more I think
of it, the more confused I become. What are we to do? Shall we go to
the police or write to the newspapers? Can't you suggest something?"
Arnold finally laid down the letter, which he now knew pretty well
by heart.
"It seems to me, Mr. Jarvis," he said, "that the thing for us to do
is to obey orders. Mr. Weatherley expressly writes that he wishes us
to take his absence, so far as possible, as a matter of course, and
to look after the business. The very fact that he puts it like that
makes it quite clear to me that he intends to return. My idea is
that we should follow the lines of his letter strictly."
"You are quite right, Chetwode," Mr. Jarvis decided. "I feel exactly
that way about the matter myself. We'll go right ahead with those
orders now, then, and we can have a chat about the matter again
after business hours, if you don't mind. It's hard to reconcile
oneself to taking this so easily, but I suppose it's the only thing
to do. I'll get out in the warehouse now. You had better send that
note round to Turnbull's by express messenger, and ring up Yardley's
about the American contracts."
Mr. Jarvis bustled away. Arnold himself found plenty to do. The
business of Messrs. Weatherley & Company must go on, whatever
happened. He set himself sedulously to make his mind a complete
blank. It was not until the offices were closed, and he turned at
last westwards, that he permitted himself even to realize this
strange thing that had happened. On that first walk was born an
impulse which remained with him for many weeks afterwards. He found
himself always scanning the faces of the streams of people whom he
was continually passing, on foot and in vehicles, half expecting
that somewhere among them he would catch a glimpse of the features
of the lost Mr. Weatherley.