protection," Rivero said. "Possibly he suspected that some attempt
might be made upon him. Certainly he has no idea of that man's true
identity."
"Yes, he has, for he has come here specially to meet him in secret.
But why that Italian should be here I can only surmise. He is a doctor
from Florence, named Moroni--a man of very evil repute."
"But why should Señor De Gex meet such people in secret?" asked
Rivero, much astonished.
"I suppose there is some strong motive why they should meet--the more
so, now that I have proved to you that the notorious Despujol is a
hireling of this wealthy man De Gex."
"A hireling!" he gasped. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that De Gex hired Despujol to make that attempt upon my life,
and I have a suspicion--one not yet entirely verified--that Moroni
prepared that deadly orosin by the agency of which it was hoped that I
should meet with my death."
"Do you really suggest that De Gex, one of the best-known and most
philanthropic men in Europe, actually hired Despujol to go to your
room that night?" my companion asked, his eyes following the trio as
they walked together and chatted beneath the trees of the Avenue
Feuchères.
"I do. And further, De Gex has every motive in closing my lips."
"Ah! Then you hold some secret of his, perhaps?" asked Rivero, a new
interest being instantly aroused.
"I do--one that I intend to expose when I obtain sufficient
corroborative evidence," I answered with determination. "But is not
the fact of the three men meeting here in secret under assumed names
sufficient proof to you that some fresh plot is afoot?"
"Certainly it is," Rivero agreed. "But I wish you would reveal to me
the whole facts."
"It is unnecessary," was my reply. "You are here only to deal with
Despujol. I promised I would bring you to him--and I have done so.
Instead of living in obscurity in a high-up frontier village in the
Pyrenees, as you in Madrid believed, I have shown you that he lives in
Montauban, where he passes as an industrious commercial traveller. If
you search that house in the Rue de Lalande you might find a quantity
of stolen property."
"As a matter of fact, it has already been searched by the police of
Montauban at my request," he replied. "The raid was made last night
after Charles Rabel had left. I received a telegram from the
Commissary of Police only an hour ago to the effect that six heavy
cases of 'travellers' samples' had been opened, and in them was found
a great quantity of stolen jewellery, negotiable securities, and other
objects of value, including two valuable paintings which were missing
from the Prado Museum three years ago."
"Then my information has been of some little use to you--eh?"
"Of enormous use, Señor Garfield! You will no doubt receive an
official letter of thanks from the Ministry of the Interior," he
replied. "But we must act very warily. Despujol will not risk
remaining here for long. Besides, some friend may telegraph to him
that the police have been to the Rue de Lalande!"
Once more it was upon the tip of my tongue to explain the manner in
which I had become implicated in the evil deeds of Oswald De Gex and
his sycophants, when of a sudden he added:
"You must really forgive me, Señor Garfield, but you are an entire
mystery to me. You have never been frank with me--never once!"
"I have been as frank as I dared," I replied. "I tell you that I am
here to watch and to strive to elucidate a great plot--one which
concerns myself and the woman I love. We have both been victims of a
vile and desperate conspiracy."
"And whom do you suspect?"
"Oswald De Gex."
"With what motive?" he asked, for he held the enormously wealthy
financial friend of Spain in awe and admiration.
"That, alas! is an enigma to me. I only know that he has made an
attempt upon my life, and that at least one woman has been sent to the
grave by foul means."
"Do you really infer that Señor De Gex is an assassin?" he asked
incredulously.
"I only tell you what I know, Señor Rivero," I replied quietly. "I
said that I would lead you to the secret abode of Despujol, and I
think I have now fulfilled my promise, and shown you that he is on
friendly terms with the great financier whom you in Spain all hold in
such high esteem."
"There is certainly no man more welcome in Madrid than Señor De Gex,"
replied the police official. "At the Ritz, whether in his own name or
incognito, he constantly receives our greatest politicians and most
prominent personages. Even the King has more than once commanded him
to the palace, in order to confer with him upon acute financial
problems in the interests of our country. And yet you infer that Señor
De Gex is an assassin!"
"I not only infer it," I said, "but I openly allege it!" I added
hotly, as I thought of Gabrielle.
Rivero glancing at me quickly raised his shoulders with a gesture of
disbelief.
"Very well," I said. "At least I have proved to you that he is a
secret friend of the notorious Despujol. Why is he here in Nîmes to
consult with De Gex and his friend the Italian, Moroni, if not for
purposes of evil? Despujol has made desperate war upon society, and it
is De Gex who secretly finances him! Hence he is the servant of the
man with money."
The dark-faced Spaniard reflected.
"Well," he exclaimed at last. "What you have revealed is certainly
most interesting."
"And if you wish to capture Despujol you must lose no time," I assured
him. "Remember, he and his gang have agents everywhere with eyes and
ears open. He will soon know of the raid upon his retreat in
Montauban."
"No doubt he will," agreed my companion. "They will return presently,
and then we will arrest him. In the meantime I will call upon the
Commissary of Police. Come with me."
We at once took a cab to the Prefecture where we were ushered into the
presence of Monsieur Coulagne, a rather tall, grey-haired elegant man,
with the rosette of the Legion of Honour in his coat.
When Rivero introduced himself the Commissary bowed to us both and
bade us be seated.
In a few quick sentences the Spanish detective explained the object of
his mission, and producing his authority from the Spanish Ministry,
requested the arrest of the infamous bandit Despujol.
"But is Despujol actually in Nîmes?" cried the Commissary astounded.
"He certainly is. I identified him on his arrival here at midday."
"We have been searching for him for over two years. He is wanted,
among other things, for the murder of Madame Lescot, a wealthy widow
of Aix-en-Provence."
"Ah! Then it is not a matter for extradition, eh?" remarked Rivero.
"We want him for a dozen crimes of violence in Spain. He attempted the
death of my English companion here, Monsieur Garfield--who will give
evidence against him."
The Commissary pressed an electric button, whereupon his secretary
appeared.
In a few rapid sentences the tall, elegant French official gave
orders, and the secretary retired at once to execute them.
"Despujol is a desperate character. He is always armed, and possesses
abnormal strength. He could strangle his strongest opponent," Rivero
remarked.
"I have taken precautions," replied Monsieur Coulagne, smiling. "I
have ordered ten men in plain clothes to go at once unobtrusively to
the Hôtel du Luxembourg, and arrest him when he returns."
"That will frighten De Gex and Moroni," I said quickly. "And if they
are frightened they will escape!"
Rivero laughed. I knew that he entirely disbelieved my statement. In
his eyes the wealthy friend of Spain could do no wrong. Did not his
King invite him to conference, in ignorance, of course, of his true
character?
I was not surprised at Rivero's attitude, yet I had hoped that
Despujol's arrest would be effected without the knowledge of De Gex
and his sinister medical friend.
I pointed this out, whereupon Rivero remarked with sarcasm:
"If what you allege against Señor De Gex and his friend be true, they
ought also to be arrested."
"Yes. They ought, and they will be when I am able to bring forward
sufficient evidence to convict them," I replied warmly. "Why, I ask
you, should Oswald De Gex be in secret association with that dangerous
bandit?"
The Spaniard merely shrugged his shoulders, while at the Commissary's
request a dossier was brought in, and then they both went through a
long catalogue of crimes alleged to have been instigated or actually
committed by the man whom I had found in my bedroom, and who had so
cleverly deceived me.
The list was a formidable one, and showed how elusive was the man whom
the police of Europe had been hunting for so long.
Among the big batch of papers was a report in English from the
Metropolitan Police at Scotland Yard stating that the individual in
question had arrived in London on a certain date, and stayed with a
respectable family at Ham, near Richmond, representing himself to be a
lawyer from Barcelona. Thence he had gone to Glasgow, where he stayed
at a certain hotel, and then moved to Oban. Afterwards he had come
south again to Luton, in Bedfordshire, where all trace of him had been
lost.
"Well," laughed Rivero triumphantly, "we shall take good care not to
lose him now!"
"No," said the Commissary of Police. "My men will be armed, and will
take him, alive or dead!"
"And De Gex and Moroni will then instantly flee!" I said, full of
regret that I had taken that step which might so easily result in
destroying all my chances of solving that puzzling enigma of Gabrielle
Tennison.
Nevertheless, it was a source of satisfaction that at last Despujol
had, by my watchfulness, been run to earth.
Suddenly the telephone at Monsieur Coulagne's elbow rang, and after
listening, he exclaimed:
"The men are already posted round the hotel. So all we have to do is
to await his return."
Hence I went forth with Rivero and the Commissary. Led by the latter,
we approached the Place de l'Esplanade through a labyrinth of narrow
back streets until, on gaining the hotel, we saw idling in the
vicinity a number of men who were apparently quite disinterested.
We entered the hotel boldly, and drawing back to the end of the
lounge, after a whispered word with the concierge, we waited.
For a full hour we remained there in eager impatience, until suddenly
a figure whom I recognized as Doctor Moroni showed in the doorway.
He was alone!
He ascended to his room, where he remained for about ten minutes.
Then, descending, he went to the bureau and inquired for the bill of
his friend and himself, announcing his intention of departing for
Paris by the train which left in half an hour!
Rivero, who had been standing near him unrecognized, crossed quickly
to where with the Commissary I sat well back from observation, and
gasped:
"They've gone! He is also leaving! Evidently they suspected they were
under observation!"
"Ah! Despujol is a very wary bird," replied Monsieur Coulagne, rising
and walking out into the Place, where he whispered some hurried words
to a stout, well-dressed man who was sauntering by, and who was his
chief inspector.
In a few moments more than half the lurking police agents had
disappeared to make inquiries at the railway station and in various
quarters, and when he rejoined us--Moroni having returned upstairs--he
said:
"Despujol cannot yet have gone very far. I have given orders for all
railway stations within two hundred kilomètres to be warned. Let us
return to my bureau and await reports."
"And what about Moroni?" I asked.
"He will be followed. I have already seen to that," was the reply.
Back at the Prefecture Monsieur Coulagne was soon speaking rapidly
over the telephone. Then we waited for news of the fugitive. None came
until about two hours afterwards the result of inquiries was told to
us by an inspector.
It seemed that on the previous day a large open car, driven by a
chauffeur, put into Carli's Garage, a big establishment in the
Boulevard des Arènes. The chauffeur asked for a receipt for the car,
saying that he had to go by train to Marseilles, and that his master
would probably call for the car on the following day, and produce the
receipt. He asked that it should be filled up with petrol in readiness
for his master. About two hours before the police made inquiry three
gentlemen entered the garage, the descriptions of whom tallied with
those of De Gex, Despujol and Moroni. De Gex produced the receipt for
the car. He paid for the petrol, and he and Despujol drove away
bidding farewell to Moroni! Despujol drove the car.
"Ah!" exclaimed Rivero. "Despujol would not risk the train. He always
arranges a secret means of escape. In this case he prepared it on the
day before. Without a doubt he knew that watch was being kept."
"Or was it that De Gex knew that I was here?" I suggested.
"Well, in any case," remarked the Commissary of Police, "the pair have
got clear away, and though we will do our best, it will no doubt be
extremely difficult to rediscover them. They will change the
number-plates on the car, and perhaps repaint it! Who knows? Despujol
is one of the most desperate characters in all Europe!"
"And Oswald De Gex is equally dangerous!" I declared, for I was still
no nearer the truth.
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SECOND
GABRIELLE AT HOME
I had been back in London a little over a week when I read in the
paper one morning a paragraph which possessed for me a peculiar
interest. It ran as follows:
"The notorious Spanish bandit Rodriquez Despujol, who has
for several years terrorized Murcia and Andalusia and has
committed several murders, is dead. The police have been
searching for him everywhere, but so elusive was he that he
always evaded them. The celebrated Spanish detective Señor
Rivero learnt a short time ago that the wanted man had been
seen at Nîmes, where he cleverly contrived to escape by car.
"Certain clues came into the hands of the police, and by
these Señor Rivero was able to trace the fugitive to Denia,
not far from Valencia. He was hiding in a small cottage in
an orange-grove just outside the town. The place was
surrounded by police, but Despujol, discovering this, opened
fire upon them from one of the windows and also threw a hand
grenade among them, with result that two carabineers were
killed and four others injured, among the latter being Señor
Rivero himself. A desperate fight ensued, but in the end the
bandit received a bullet in the head which proved fatal.
"A large quantity of stolen property of all sorts has been
discovered in rooms which the criminal occupied in
Montauban, in France. Despujol's latest exploit was an
attempt to administer in secret a very deadly poison to an
Englishman who was visiting Madrid. It was that attempted
crime which aroused Señor Rivero's activities which have had
the effect of ridding Spain of one of its most notorious
assassins."
I read the report twice. So the defiant Despujol was dead, and poor
Rivero had sustained injuries! Nothing was said of the powerful
financier's friendship with the bandit.
When I showed it to Hambledon, he remarked:
"At least you've been the means not only of putting an end to
Despujol's ignoble career, but also of restoring a quantity of very
valuable property to its owners."
"True, but it brings us no nearer a solution of the affair at Stretton
Street," was my reply.
Gabrielle's mother had returned to London, and that evening I called
upon her by appointment. I found her a grey-haired refined woman with
a pale anxious face and deep-set eyes.
When I mentioned Gabrielle, who was in the adjoining room, she sighed
and exclaimed:
"Ah! Mr. Garfield. It is a great trial to me. Poor child! I cannot
think what happened to her. Nobody can tell, she least of all. Doctor
Moroni has been very good, for he is greatly interested in her case.
They have told me that you called some time ago and evinced an
interest in her."
"Yes, Mrs. Tennison," I said. "I feel a very deep interest in your
daughter because--well, to tell you the truth, I, too, after a strange
adventure here in London one night completely lost my sense of
identity, and when I came to a knowledge of things about me I was in
a hospital in France, having been found unconscious at the roadside
many days after my adventure in London."
"How very curious!" Mrs. Tennison remarked, instantly interested.
"Gabrielle was found at the roadside. Do you think, then, that there
is any connexion between your case and hers?"
"Yes, Mrs. Tennison," I replied promptly. "It is for that reason I am
in active search of the truth--in the interests of your daughter, as
well as of those of my own."
"What do you suspect, Mr. Garfield?" asked Gabrielle's mother, as we
sat in that cosily-furnished little room where on the table in the
centre stood an old punch-bowl filled with sweet-smelling La France
roses.
"I suspect many things. In some, my suspicions have proved correct. In
others, I am still entirely in the dark. One important point, however,
I have established, namely, the means by which this curious,
mysterious effect has been produced upon the minds of both your
daughter and myself. When one knows the disease then it is not
difficult to search for the cure. I know how the effect was produced,
and further, I know the name of the medical man who has effected cures
in similar cases."
"You do?" she exclaimed eagerly. "Well, Gabrielle has seen a dozen
specialists, all of whom have been puzzled."
"Professor Gourbeil, of Lyons, has been able to gain complete cures in
two cases. Orosin, a newly discovered poison, is the drug that was
used, and the Professor has a wider knowledge of the effect of that
highly dangerous substance than any person living. You should arrange
to take your daughter to him."
The pale-faced widow shook her head, and in a mournful tone, replied:
"Ah! I am afraid it would be useless. Doctor Moroni took her to
several specialists, but they all failed to restore her brain to its
normal activity."
"Professor Gourbeil is the only man who has ever been able to
completely cure a person to whom orosin has been administered--and
that has been in two cases only."
"So the chance is very remote, even if she saw him," exclaimed the
widow despairingly.
"I think, Mrs. Tennison, that Gabrielle should see him in any case," I
said.
"I agree. The poor girl's condition is most pitiable. At times she
seems absolutely normal, and talks of things about her in quite a
reasonable manner. But she never seems able to concentrate her
thoughts. They always wander swiftly from one subject to another. I
have noticed, too, that her vision is affected. Sometimes she will
declare that a vivid red is blue. When we look into shop windows
together she will refer to a yellow dress as mauve, a pink as white.
At times she cannot distinguish colours. Yet now and then her vision
becomes quite normal."
"I have had some difficulty, Mrs. Tennison, in that way myself," I
said. "When I first left St. Malo, after recovering consciousness of
the present, I one day saw a grass field and it appeared to be bright
blue. Again, an omnibus in London which I knew to be blue was a
peculiar dull red. So my symptoms were the same as your daughter's."
"It seems proved that both of you are fellow-victims of some desperate
plot, Mr. Garfield," said the widow. "But what could have been its
motive?"
"That I am striving with all my might to establish," I answered. "If I
can only obtain from your daughter the true facts concerning her
adventures on that fatal night last November, then it will materially
assist me towards fixing the guilt upon the person I suspect. In this
I beg your aid, Mrs. Tennison," I said. "I have only just returned
from several weeks abroad, during which I have gained considerable
knowledge which in the end will, I hope, lead me to the solution of
the problem."
I then told her of my journey to Spain and afterwards to Nîmes. But I
mentioned nothing concerning either Oswald De Gex or Despujol.
At that moment Gabrielle, unaware of my presence, entered. She was
dressed in a simple grey frock with short sleeves and cut discreetly
low, and looked very sweet. On seeing me she drew back, but next
second she put out her slim white hand in greeting, and with a
delightful smile, exclaimed:
"Why--why, Mr. Garfield! I--I remember you! You called upon me some
weeks ago--did you not?"
"Yes, Miss Tennison, I did," I replied as I sprang from my chair and
bent over her hand. "So you recollect me--eh?"
"I do. They said that you would call upon me," she replied, her
beautiful face suddenly clouding.
"Who told you that?" I asked.
"Doctor Moroni. He warned me that you were my enemy."
I drew a long breath, for I discerned the depth of the plot.
"Not your enemy, Miss Tennison," I assured her. "But your friend--your
friend who is trying his best to solve the problem of your--your
illness."
"Yes, Gabrielle, dear, Mr. Garfield is certainly your friend. I know
that," declared her mother kindly. "Doctor Moroni must have been
mistaken. Why should he have warned you against meeting Mr. Garfield?"
I was silent for a moment, then I said:
"Of course, Mrs. Tennison, you have no previous knowledge of me. You
are taking me entirely at my own estimation."
"When I meet a young man who is open and frank as you are, I trust
him," she said quietly. "You know that woman's intuition seldom errs."
I laughed.
"Well," I answered. "I am striving to solve the mystery of what
occurred on the night of November the seventh--of what occurred to
your daughter, as well as to myself."
Mrs. Tennison endeavoured to obtain from me a description of my
adventure, but I managed to evade her questions.
"I wonder why Doctor Moroni warned Gabrielle against you?" she
remarked presently. "It is a mystery."
"Yes, Mrs. Tennison, it is all a mystery--a complete mystery to me why
Doctor Moroni, of all men, should take an interest in your daughter.
He is certainly not a man to be trusted, and I, in turn, warn you
against him."
"Why? He has been so good to Gabrielle."
"The reason of my warning is that he is her enemy as well as mine," I
said, glancing at the beautiful girl, whose countenance had, alas! now
grown inanimate again.
"But I do not understand," Mrs. Tennison exclaimed. "Why should the
doctor be Gabrielle's enemy?"
"Ah! That I cannot tell--except that he fears lest she should recover
and reveal the truth--a serious truth which would implicate him."
"Do you think he had any hand in the mysterious affair?"
"I certainly do," was my reply, and then I told her of my journey to
Italy, and of my discovery of her daughter with Moroni in Florence.
"But how did you know my daughter?" she asked.
"Because on that fatal night I saw her in a house in London."
"You saw her! Where?"
"In the house of a mutual enemy."
"Who?"
"Mrs. Tennison," I exclaimed quietly. "At present I cannot reveal to
you more than I have done. Please excuse me. When I have fully
verified my suspicions I will explain all that occurred to me--all
that is within my knowledge. Until then, please remain in patience."
"I never dreamed that Gabrielle had a single enemy in the world. I
cannot understand it," she exclaimed.
"Neither can I, but the fact remains. The greatest care should be
exercised regarding your daughter. Why did she meet that Frenchman in
Kensington Gardens?"
"I have only just heard about it," was her mother's reply. "It appears
that Doctor Moroni introduced them. She had only seen him once
before."
Then, turning to the girl, her mother asked:
"What did he say to you?"
"He brought me an urgent and secret message from Doctor Moroni,
telling me that there was a plot against my life," she replied in a
slow, mechanical voice. "The doctor sent word to me that Mr. Garfield
would probably call and endeavour to be friendly with me, but that he
was my enemy, and I should have no dealings with him."
"Ah!" I exclaimed. "So that was the second warning given you, Miss
Tennison! It is more than ever plain that they fear lest, by meeting,
we shall discover the plot and its instigators. What else did he say?"
"He told me that Doctor Moroni was still in Florence, but that he
would be coming to London again very soon, and that he would call. He
urged me at the same time to tell nobody that he had seen me, or that
he had warned me against you--not even my mother."
"All that is in no way surprising," I remarked, "for I happen to know
that Monsieur Suzor and the doctor are on terms of closest
friendship--a partnership for evil."
"How?"