He watched my face, and saw that I recognized it.
Then he drew a long sigh, tossed his cigarette away savagely, and
throwing back the photograph into the drawer, relocked it.
"Yes," he declared, turning to me again. "The situation is most
abnormally disturbing, Heltzendorff. A storm is brewing, without a
doubt. But the Emperor must know nothing, remember--not the slightest
suspicion. Ah! What an infernal fool I was to believe in that woman.
Bah! They are all alike. And yet----" and he paused--"and yet if it were
not for the petticoat Germany's secret diplomacy--the preparation for
the great 'Day' when we shall stagger the world--could not proceed.
This, my dear Heltzendorff, has shown me that you may with advantage use
a woman of whatever age as your catspaw, your secret agent, your bait
when angling for important information, or your go-between in secret
transactions; but never trust one with knowledge of your own personal
affairs."
"Then I take it that this girl-thief of the Montmartre whom you met when
out for an evening's amusement is the cause of all this trouble? And yet
she said that she did not know you!"
"Because it was to her advantage to disclaim knowledge of me. Personally
I do not think that the pretty Lizette is my enemy or she would not warn
me against this infernal Spaniard, whoever he may be."
"If the matter is so serious, had I not better go to Paris to-morrow and
see Pinaud?" I suggested.
"Excellent!" he exclaimed. "Watch must be kept upon them. The one thing
to bear in mind, however, is that neither the Emperor nor my wife learn
anything. Go to Paris to-morrow, and tell Pinaud from me to do his best
on my behalf."
Next morning I left for Paris, and on arrival spent half an hour with
Georges Pinaud in his room at the Surete.
"So His Imperial Highness does not wish the arrest of the girl Lizette
Sabin?" he exclaimed presently. "I have her _dossier_ here," and he
indicated a cardboard portfolio before him. "It is a pretty bad one. Her
last sentence was one of twelve months for robbing an English baronet at
a dancing-hall in the Rue du Bac."
"His Highness does not wish for her arrest. He only desires the pair to
be kept under close observation."
"The man Aranda is, I have discovered, a dangerous person," said the
famous detective, leaning back in his chair. "He has served a sentence
at Cayenne for the attempted murder of a woman in Lyons. He is, of
course, an adventurer of the most expert type."
I longed to reveal to my friend Pinaud the whole facts, but this was
against my instructions. I merely asked him as a favour to institute a
strict vigilance upon the pair, and to report to me by telegraph if
either of them left Paris.
Aranda was still living at the Hotel Terminus, but the pretty Lizette
had gone to stay with two girl friends, professional dancers, who lived
on the third floor of a house half-way up the Rue Blanche. So having
discharged my mission, I returned on the following day to Potsdam,
where, on meeting me, the Crown-Prince seemed much relieved.
His only fear--and it was a very serious one--was that to the Emperor
there might be revealed the reason of that secret visit of his to Italy.
I confess that I myself began to regard that visit with considerable
suspicion. Its nature must have been, to say the least, unusual if he
had been so aghast at the real truth being discovered.
In the strenuous days that followed, weeks, indeed, I frequently
reflected, and found myself much mystified. More than once His Highness
had asked me: "Any news from Pinaud?" And when I replied in the negative
"Willie's" relief was at once apparent.
One day I had been lunching in Berlin at the "Bristol," in Unter den
Linden, at a big party given by the Baroness von Buelow. Among the dozen
or so present were Von Ruxeben, the Grand Marshal of the Court of
Saxe-Coburg-Gotha; Gertrud, Baroness von Wangenheim, Grand Mistress of
the Court of the Duchess; the Minister Dr. Rasch; and, of course, old
"Uncle" Zeppelin, full of plans, as always, of new airships and of the
destruction of London. Indeed, he sat next me, and bored me to death
with his assurances that on "The Day" he would in twenty-four hours lay
London in ruins.
The guests around the table, a gay and clever circle, saw that "Uncle"
had button-holed me, and knew from my face how utterly bored I was.
Truth to tell, I was much relieved when suddenly, when the meal was
nearly over, a waiter whispered that somebody wished to see me out in
the lounge.
It was a messenger from Potsdam with a telegram that had come over the
private wire. It read: "Aranda left Paris two days ago. Destination
unknown.--PINAUD."
The information showed that the fellow had cleverly evaded the agents of
the Surete, a very difficult feat in such circumstances. That very fact
went to prove that he was a cunning and elusive person.
Half an hour later I was sitting with Heinrich Wesener,
Assistant-Director of the Secret Service of the General Staff. I sought
him in preference to the famous detective, Schunke, because, while
matters passing through the Secret Service Bureau were always regarded
as confidential, those submitted to the Berlin police were known to many
subordinates who had access to the _dossiers_ and informations.
I told Wesener but little--merely that His Imperial Highness the
Crown-Prince was desirous of knowing at the earliest moment if a
Spaniard named Martinez Aranda should arrive in Berlin.
The curiosity of the Assistant-Director was immediately aroused. So many
scandals were rife regarding "Willie" that the stout, fair-haired
official was hoping to obtain some further details.
"Excuse me for a moment," he said, and, after ringing his bell, a clerk
appeared. To the man he gave orders to go across and inspect the police
register of strangers, and ascertain if the man Aranda had arrived in
the capital.
Ten minutes later the clerk returned, saying that a Spaniard named
Aranda had arrived from Paris early that morning with a young lady named
Sabin, and that they were staying at the Central Hotel, opposite the
Friedrich-Strasse Station.
Upon this information I went to the "Central," and from the hall-porter
discovered that Aranda had left the hotel an hour before, but that his
supposed niece was upstairs in her room.
Afterwards I hurried back to Potsdam as quickly as possible, only to
find that the Crown-Prince was out with Knof motoring somewhere. Of the
Crown-Princess I inquired whither he had gone, but, as usual, she had no
idea. "Willie" was ever erratic, and ever on the move.
Six o'clock had already struck when he returned, and the sentry informed
him that I was extremely anxious to see him. Therefore, without removing
his coat, he ascended to my room, where he burst in breezily.
When I told him what I had discovered in Berlin the light died instantly
out of his face.
"Is the fellow really here, Heltzendorff?" he gasped. "I had a letter
from him a week ago declaring his intention to come here."
"You did not reply, I hope?"
"No. The letter I found upon my dressing-table, but I have not
discovered who placed it there," he said. "The fellow evidently intends
to carry out his threat and expose me to the Emperor."
"What can he expose?" I queried.
But "Willie" was not to be caught like that. He merely replied:
"Well--something which must at all hazards be concealed. How this
Spaniard can know I cannot in the least imagine--unless that woman gave
me away!"
For the next two days I was mostly out with his Highness in the car, and
in addition the Kaiser reviewed the Prussian Guard, a ceremony which
always gave me much extra work.
On the third day I had in the morning been out to the Wildpark Station,
and, passing the sentries, had re-entered the Palace, when one of the
footmen approached me, saying:
"Pardon, Count, but there is a gentleman to see his Imperial Highness.
He will give no name, and refuses to leave. I called the captain of the
guard, who has interrogated him, and he has been put into the blue
ante-room until your return."
At that moment I saw the captain of the guard striding down the corridor
towards me.
"A bald-headed man is here to see His Highness, and will give no name,"
he told me. "He is waiting now. Will you see him?"
"No," I said, my suspicions aroused. "I will first see the
Crown-Prince."
After some search I found the latter lolling at his ease in his own
smoking-room in the private apartments, reading a French novel and
consuming cigarettes.
"Hulloa, Heltzendorff! Well, what's the trouble?" he asked. "I see
something is wrong from your face."
"The man Aranda is here," I replied.
"Here!" he gasped, starting up and flinging the book aside. "Who let him
in?"
"I don't know, but he is below demanding to see you."
"Has he made any statement? Has he told anybody what he knows?" demanded
the Crown-Prince, who at that moment presented what might be termed a
white-livered appearance, cowed, and even trembling. In his slant eyes
showed a look of undisguised terror, and I realized that the truth,
whatever it might be, was a damning and most disgraceful one.
"I can't see him, Heltzendorff," he whined to me. "See him; hear what
he has to say--and--and you will keep my secret? Promise me."
I promised. And I should have kept that promise were it not for his
brutal and blackguardly acts after the outbreak of war--acts which
placed him, with his Imperial father, beyond the pale of respectable
society.
I was turning to leave the room, when he sprang towards me with that
quick agility of his, and, placing his white, manicured hand upon my
arm, said:
"Whatever he may say you will not believe--will you?"
"And if he wants money?" I asked.
"Ascertain the amount, and come here to me."
A quarter of an hour later Martinez Aranda sat in my room opposite my
table. I had told him that unfortunately His Imperial Highness was
engaged, for the Emperor had come over from the Neues Palace for
luncheon. Then I inquired the nature of his business.
"Well, Count, you and I are not altogether strangers, are we?" was his
reply, as he sat back calmly and crossed his legs, perfectly at his
ease. "But my business is only with His Highness, and with nobody else."
"His Highness sees nobody upon business. I am appointed to deal with all
his business affairs, and anything told to me is the same as though
spoken into his ear."
The Spaniard from Montmartre was silent for a moment.
"If that is the case, then I would be glad if you will obtain his
permission for me to speak. He will remember my name."
"I already received orders before I invited you up," I said. "His
Highness wishes you to deal with me. He knows that you are here to
settle some delicate little piece of business concerning that secret
visit of his to Rome--eh?"
"Yes," he answered, after a few seconds' pause. "I am well aware, Count,
that for mention of the reason I am here you might call the guard to
arrest me for blackmail. But first let me assure His Highness that such
action would not be advisable in the interests of either himself or of
the Emperor. I have already made arrangements for exposure in case His
Highness endeavours to close my mouth by such means."
"Good. We understand each other. What is your complaint?" I inquired.
"I know the truth concerning the mysterious death of the woman, Claudia
Ferrona, in Rome last December," he said briefly.
"Oh!" I exclaimed. "Perhaps you will tell me next that the Crown-Prince
is an assassin? Come, that will be really interesting," I laughed.
"Perhaps you will tell me how it all happened--the extent of your
knowledge."
"Why should I do that? Go to the Crown-Prince and tell him what I
allege--tell him that the girl, Lizette Sabin, whom he knows, was a
witness."
"Well, let us come to business," I said. "How much do you want for your
silence?"
"I want nothing--not a sou!" was the hard reply. "All I want is to
reveal to the Emperor that his son is responsible for a woman's death.
And that is what I intend doing. You hear that! Well, Count von
Heltzendorff, please go and tell him so."
Quickly realizing the extreme gravity of the situation, I returned to
the Crown-Prince and told him the startling allegation made against him.
His face went as white as paper.
"We must pay the fellow off. Close his mouth somehow. Help me,
Heltzendorff," he implored. "What can I do? He must not reveal the truth
to the Emperor!"
"Then it really is the truth!" I exclaimed, astounded.
The Crown-Prince hung his head, and in a low, hoarse voice replied:
"It is my accursed luck! The woman must have told the truth to this
scoundrel of a Spaniard before--before she died!"
"And Lizette?" I asked. "She is a witness, the fellow says."
"No, no!" cried His Highness wildly, covering his white face with his
hands as though to hide the guilt written upon his countenance. "Say no
more! Ask the fellow's price, and pay him. We must not allow him to go
to the Emperor."
Three minutes later I went back to my room, but it was empty. The
Spaniard had walked out, and would, no doubt, be wandering somewhere in
the private apartments.
At that instant the telephone rang, and, answering it, I heard that His
Majesty had just arrived by car, and was on his way up to the room
wherein I stood--the room in which he generally met his son.
For a moment I was perplexed, but a few seconds later I held my breath
when I saw coming down the corridor the Emperor, and walking with him
the adventurer, who had apparently met him on his way downstairs.
I confess that at that most dramatic moment I was entirely nonplussed. I
saw how cleverly Aranda had timed his visit, and how, by some means, he
knew of the internal arrangements of the Marmor Palace.
"Yes," the Emperor exclaimed to the Spaniard. "You wish to have
audience. Well?"
In a second I broke in.
"May I be permitted to say a word, Your Majesty?" I said. "There is a
little business matter pending between this gentleman and His Imperial
Highness the Crown-Prince--a little dispute over money. I regret that
Your Majesty should be disturbed by it. The matter is in course of
settlement."
"Oh, money matters!" exclaimed the Emperor, who always hated mention of
them, believing himself to be far too important a person to trouble
about them. "Of course, you will see to a settlement, Count." And the
Emperor turned his back deliberately upon the man who accosted him.
"It is not money that I want," shouted the adventurer from Paris, "but
I----"
I did not allow him to conclude his sentence, but hustled him into an
adjoining room, closing the door after him.
"Now, Monsieur Aranda, you want money, I know. How much?" I asked
determinedly.
"Two hundred thousand marks," was his prompt reply, "and also fifty
thousand for Lola."