"But, surely, Hartwig, this is a most extraordinary affair!" I cried.
"She may have been decoyed into the hands of Danilovitch!"
"That is, alas! what I very much fear," the police official admitted.
"This I believe to be some deeply-laid plot of Markoff's to secure her
silence. You have been across Siberia, and arrived too late, yet Her
Highness is still in possession of the secret. She is the only living
menace to Markoff. Is it not natural, therefore, that he should take
steps to seal her lips?"
"We must discover her, Hartwig--we must find her, either alive or dead,"
I said resolutely.
This news staggered me, fagged and worn out as I was. I had been
compelled to leave Luba in the hands of the Governor-General, who had
promised, because I was the guest of His Majesty, that he would do all
in his power to render her lot less irksome. Indeed, she had been
transferred to one of the rooms in the prison hospital in Yakutsk, and
was under a wardress, instead of being guarded by those brutal, uncouth
Cossacks.
But this sudden disappearance of Natalia just at the very moment when
her presence was of greatest importance held me utterly bewildered. All
my efforts had been in vain!
Should I telegraph the alarming news to the Emperor?
Hartwig explained to me how diligently he had searched, and at once I
realised the expert method with which he was dealing with the remarkable
affair, and the wide scope of his inquiry. No man in Europe was more
fitted to institute such a search. He had, in confidence, invoked the
aid of New Scotland Yard, and being known by the heads of the Criminal
Investigation Department, they had allowed him to direct the inquiry.
"At present," he said, "the papers are fortunately in entire ignorance
of the matter. I have been very careful that nothing shall leak out,
for the story would, of course, be a grand one for the sensational
Press. The public, however, does not know whose identity is hidden
beneath the name of Gottorp, and no reporter dreams that a Russian Grand
Duchess has been living _incognita_ in Brunswick Square," he added with
a smile. "The Criminal Investigation Department have agreed with me
that it would be unwise for a single word to leak out regarding the
disappearance. Of course they incline to the theory of a secret lover--
but--"
"You suspect young Drury--eh?" I interrupted quickly.
"I hardly know what theory to form," he said with a puzzled air: "while
the shopgirl in Eastbourne describes the appearance of the man's back as
exactly similar to that of Mr Drury, yet I cannot believe that he would
willingly play us such a trick. I know him quite well, and I believe
him to be a very honest, upright, straightforward young fellow."
"He knows nothing of Her Highness's real identity?" I asked anxiously,
as we still strolled down towards the sea.
"Has no suspicion whatever of it. He believes Miss Gottorp to be the
daughter of a Berlin brewer who died and left her a fortune. No," he
went on, "I detect in this affair one of Markoff's clever plots. She
probably believed that she was to meet young Drury, and adopted that
ruse to pause and speak with him--but--!"
"But what?" I asked, turning and looking into his grave face, revealed
by the light of a shop window.
"Well--she was led into a trap," he said. "Decoyed away into one of the
side streets, perhaps--and then--well, who knows what might have
happened?"
"You have searched Eastbourne, I suppose?"
"The Criminal Investigation Department are doing so," he said. "I am
making a perfectly independent inquiry."
"You have reported nothing yet to Petersburg--eh?"
"Not a word. What can I say? I have asked Miss West to refrain from
uttering a syllable--also the Finlays have promised entire secrecy."
"There is a motive in her disappearance, Hartwig," I said. "What is
it?"
"Ah! That's just it, Mr Trewinnard," he replied. "Her Highness had no
motive whatever to disappear. Mr Drury was always welcome at Brunswick
Square, for Miss West entirely approved of him. Besides, his presence
had prevented other flirtations. Therefore there was no reason that
there should have been any clandestine meeting in Eastbourne."
"Then the only other suggestion is that of treachery."
"Exactly. And that is the correct one--depend upon it."
"If she has fallen into Markoff's hands then she may be already dead!"
I gasped, staring at him. "If so, the secret will remain a secret for
ever!"
For a moment the great detective remained silent. Then slowly he said:
"To tell the truth, that is exactly what I fear. Yes, I will try and
suppress the horrible apprehension. It is too terrible."
"Danilovitch is unscrupulous," I said, "and he hates us."
"No doubt he does. He fears us, yet--" and he paused. "Yet a most
curious point is the fact that Her Highness deliberately remained behind
and sent Dmitri on, in order to be allowed opportunity to escape his
vigilance."
"All cleverly planned by her enemies," I declared. "She was misled, and
fell into some very cunningly-baited trap, without a doubt. Do you
believe she is still in Eastbourne?"
"No."
"Neither do I," was my assertion. "She went to London, no doubt, for
there she would be easily concealed--if death has not already overtaken
her--as it has overtaken poor Madame de Rosen."
"I trust not," he said very thoughtfully. Then he added: "I have been
thinking whether we might not again approach Danilovitch?"
"He is our enemy and hers. He will give us no satisfaction," I said.
"Certainly, whatever plot suggested by Markoff arose in his fertile
brain. And his plots usually have the same result--the death of the
victim. It may be so in this case," I added reflectively; "but I
sincerely trust not."
Hartwig drew a long breath. His face clouded.
"Remember," he said, "it is to Markoff's advantage--indeed to him her
death means the suppression of some disgraceful truth. If she lives--
then his fall is imminent. I have foreseen this all along, hence my
constant precaution, which, alas! was relaxed last Monday, because I had
to go to London to consult the Ambassador. They evidently were aware of
that."
I explained the failure of my errand, whereat he drew a long breath and
said:
"It almost seems, Mr Trewinnard, that our enemies have secured the
advantage of us, after all. I really feel they have."
"You fear that the trap into which Her Highness has fallen is a fatal
one--eh?" I asked, glancing at him quickly.
"What can I reply?" he said in a low tone. "Every inquiry I can devise
is in progress. All the ports are watched, and observation is kept
night and day upon the house in Lower Clapton from a house opposite,
which Matthews, of New Scotland Yard, has taken for the purpose. Her
Highness has not been there--up to now. Markoff is in Petersburg."
The great detective--the man whose cleverness in the detection of crime
was perhaps unequalled in Europe--drew a long, thoughtful face as he
halted with me beneath a street-lamp.
People hurried past us, ignorant of the momentous question we were
discussing.
"Where is Drury?" I asked suddenly.
"Ah! That is yet another point," answered Hartwig. "He, too, is
missing--he has disappeared!"