THE BLACK MOTOR.
A certain sense of elation had taken possession of Hetty. She had been
tried in the fire, and she had not been found wanting. She had done
her work well, and she knew it. And she was not quite satisfied.
Things were going on here that she ought to know. At any moment she
might come across important information that would be of the greatest
use to Gordon. She no longer had the slightest doubt that the Countess
was at the bottom of the business that threatened to deprive him of
his good name.
As soon as the weakness was passed, she followed Leona Lalage. She
heard the latter fumbling with the sash of the drawing-room window,
she felt the sudden rush of air. The owner of the house had barely
reached the garden before Hetty was after her. It was all for Gordon's
sake, she told herself; for him she would do anything.
She crept on until the green door in the wall was reached. It was
risky to peep out, but Hetty had to hazard that. The black motor car
was in front of her, so that she was behind the gleaming lights. With
a thrill Hetty recognized that motor. It was the same one that she had
seen leaving the Corner House on the morning of the murder. She was
destined to see more of it before long. But she saw other things; she
saw Leona tear the skirt of her dress away; a wild cry of surprise
rose to her lips, but she choked it down. Here before her was the
Spanish woman of Gordon's story. The sudden flood of light set Hetty
trembling from head to foot.
For the present she was not destined to obtain further information.
The big gates of the courtyard of the Corner House was closed upon
her. But she waited. Wit! Her little white teeth shut together; she
would have waited there all night. She heard Lalage's sudden cry; she
heard the muttered conversation that followed.
She was only just in time to get back behind the green gates when the
Countess emerged again with something in her hand. Her head was held
high, her eyes gleamed with triumph. Then the great black car shot
noiselessly away, and Hetty crept back to the house.
She managed to gain her bedroom unseen, she stood with a fast-beating
heart at the head of the landing listening. All the servants had gone
to bed long ago, there were only one or two of the electrics burning.
A moment later Countess Lalage came out of her bedroom and swept down
the stairs. All signs of her disguise had gone; she was dressed from
head to foot in a new and magnificent gown, black set off with red,
her diamonds flashed and streamed in the light. Evidently the
adventures of the night were not over, for the Countess would not have
taken all that trouble had she not expected some one.
Hetty crept back to her room and softly closed the door. She could
hear the snap of the electric switches as Leona Lalage proceeded from
room to room downstairs until the whole place was brilliant with
light. Evidently some one was to be welcomed royally. And crime and
light do not go very well together.
Or perhaps it was a crime. With all the servants in bed anybody alone
with Leona Lalage and Balmayne would have a dangerous time.
"I must see further into this," Hetty told herself. "When this
honoured guest comes I will creep downstairs and listen. It's not a
very nice thing to do, but if ever the end justifies the means, surely
this is a case in point."
She had to listen and wait a long time. Meanwhile the black motor was
throbbing its way to Charing Cross. It was quite late as it passed
under the archway into the station. But, strange to say, the motor was
no longer black, but it gleamed with lacquer and steel and brass like
the perfect beauty that it was.
There were only a few passengers by the train, one an old bent man
with a grey moustache and a hooked nose coming down over it. His boots
and hat and gloves were shabby enough, but his fur-lined overcoat,
which he wore in spite of the warm night, was a magnificent garment of
real sable. He stepped along the platform absently. As he looked round
for a cab, Balmayne hailed him.
"Can I be of any service to you, Herr Maitrank?" he asked.
The little man's eyes twinkled shrewdly. He seemed to be amused about
something.
"What a lucky meeting," he exclaimed. "If that is your motor you can
drive me to the Metropole and sup with me. You are a clever young man,
so clever that you will not pretend this meeting is an accident."
"I'm not going to try and deceive you," said Balmayne. "I'm going to
play the game with all the cards on the table."
"So? Then you know why I am here?"
"Yes. You have come to look into Countess Lalage's affairs."
"With a view to saving myself the loss of many thousand pounds. The
money itself would not make much difference to me, but I love my
money. To make it is the whole end and aim of my life. Lie to me,
deceive me, abuse me, anything you like, and I care nothing. But rob
me of money, ah!"
The little beady eyes gleamed angrily, the speaker spat furiously.
"I found out by chance," he went on. "A bit of good luck showed me how
I had been swindled. But I said nothing--ah, I said nothing, because
in this case silence is golden! And nobody knows but myself. Thinks I,
that woman is a long way from being played out yet--she has resources.
Some people would have made a fuss and cried out and spoilt
everything, but not so Maitrank. I come here to get my money and I
shall have it, mark you. But I am not easy in my mind."
"About your money, Herr Maitrank?"
"About my money! No. I shall get that all right. What I am uneasy
about is this: How did you know I was coming, and why?"
Balmayne shrugged his shoulders.
"That is my affair," he said. "Perhaps I have been prepared for
this--perhaps I have had a watch kept on you. But no matter. We have
had time and we are ready. Will you come and see the Countess now?"
Maitrank hesitated a moment and nodded.
"It will give me a good supper free," he said, "and a glass of wine.
And if you try any tricks on me, heaven help you, for I won't!"