ANOTHER MYSTERY
The behaviour of Schwartz perplexed Ellis, and during his homeward
journey he pondered over the meaning of that glance. Could it be
possible that the German was lying; that Janet Gordon had seen him,
and had confessed what she knew of the crime? Ellis did not know what
to think, but he was satisfied that the woman could solve the mystery.
But she was not to be found; she had vanished as suddenly as Mrs.
Moxton, and it seemed as though both of them were keeping out of the
way lest they should get into trouble. But Ellis was bent upon
discovering them at all costs.
In order to achieve this necessary purpose he kept a close watch on
Myrtle Villa for the next few days, but all in vain. The house
remained empty, and Mrs. Moxton gave no sign of reappearing. Ellis
advertised judiciously in the _Standard_, but no notice was taken of
his advertisement; he waited impatiently for the post, but no letter
arrived. Mrs. Moxton and her sister had vanished as completely as
though the earth had swallowed them up. The anxiety began to tell on
Ellis's health, and Harry Cass advised him to abandon his pursuit of
these shadows. As an intimate friend, Cass was brutally candid.
"It is no use mincing matters, Bob," said he, "the widow never loved
you, and has made use of you only to secure her own ends. She will
never return to Dukesfield."
"She must, Harry; if only to take the furniture out of her house."
"Oh, I daresay she will delegate that office to Zirknitz. There is no
doubt that Janet Gordon knows the truth about the murder, and has
confessed it to Mrs. Moxton. That is why both women are keeping out of
the way."
"Zirknitz," repeated Ellis, paying no attention to the latter part of
this speech. "I quite forgot about him. He may know where they are?"
"If he does he will not tell."
"I'll see about that, Harry. To-morrow I shall call on Zirknitz."
Cass shrugged his shoulders, but said no more. The obstinacy of Ellis
was not to be overcome by argument, so, like a wise man, the
journalist did not waste his breath in futile protestations. Secretly
he was pleased that Mrs. Moxton should have voluntarily taken herself
out of the way, as he did not wish Ellis to marry her. But in his own
mind he was satisfied that the widow herself had proved by her last
action that there was little fear of such an alliance taking place. To
gain her own ends she had feigned a passion for Ellis; now that she
saw nothing further was to be got out of him she had put an end to a
disagreeable situation by disappearing. And this--in the opinion of
Cass--was the end of Mrs. Moxton and her shady doings.
The next day Ellis went to see Zirknitz, the first thing in the
morning, as he hoped to catch him before he left home. He knew that
the Austrian was the most indolent of men, as Mrs. Moxton had told him
as much, so it was unlikely that he would find him out of bed before
ten o'clock. The doctor presented himself at the Bloomsbury lodging
shortly before eleven, and found that even at so late an hour Zirknitz
had not shaken off his slumbers. A smart maid-servant conducted him
into an elegantly-furnished sitting-room, and took in his card.
Shortly she returned with a message that M. Zirknitz in ten minutes
would be at the disposal of his visitor. Like its owner, the room was
very pretty. Wherever Zirknitz got the money to pander to his
luxurious tastes, he certainly knew how to spend it. Ellis marvelled
at the luxury by which he was surrounded, and wondered in what shady
way it had been obtained. The walls were hung with Japanese silks of
marvellous design and colouring, the floor was covered with a
velvet-pile carpet of pale green, with a pattern of primroses. Green
silk curtains draped the windows; there were charming pictures in
every corner, and the furniture--also of pale green--was in the best
possible taste. Near the window stood a piano, opposite to it a
satinwood bookcase filled with French novels, and everywhere articles
of useless luxury, evidently bought merely for the sake of buying.
While Ellis was wondering at this bachelor's paradise, which more
resembled the boudoir of a pretty woman, M. Zirknitz, fresh and pink
from his bath, appeared through an inner door. He wore a loose
dressing-gown of blue silk, and looked wonderfully handsome, if a
trifle effeminate. With a joyous air he advanced to greet his visitor.
"_Cher ami_, so you have found me out. Well, I am charmed to see you,
doctor. Is that chair comfortable? Good. Try this cigarette, it is a
new brand. Can I offer you any refreshment--No? Ah, you are wiser than
the majority of Englishmen. They eat and drink too much; bad for the
nerves, pardy. Over-eating, over-feeding. _Quelle bêtise_."
Zirknitz ran on thus lightly, but kept a sharp eye on his visitor, as
he was anxious to know what had brought him there so early in the
morning. Having fulfilled the duties of hospitality, he waited for
Ellis to explain himself, which the doctor did almost immediately.
"I have called, M. Zirknitz, to inquire if you can inform me of the
whereabouts of Mrs. Moxton?"
"Eh? How should I know? Am I my sister's keeper? Is she not in Myrtle
Villa, Dukesfield?"
"No, she has not been there for five days. Your sister Janet has
disappeared from Pimlico also."
"How do you know that, my brave doctor?" demanded Zirknitz, mockingly,
yet with a shade of anxiety in his manner.
"Because I called there. Mrs. Amber informed me that Mrs. Moxton had
taken away Miss Gordon. She did not know whither they had gone. I
thought you might have had some idea."
"I fear, monsieur, I cannot assist you. I have not seen Mrs. Moxton
since that day you spoke to me at Dukesfield. My sisters leave me much
to myself. Why do you wish to see them?"
"I have my reasons," said Ellis, stiffly.
"And they are connected with that murder. _Mon cher_ Ellis, _soyez
tranquil_. I do not want to penetrate your secrets. I do not know
where mesdames my sisters are. If I did I should tell you most
assuredly, in spite of your bad opinion of me. But I am pleased you
have come." Here M. Zirknitz rose and touched an electric button. "You
will hear from my landlady that I was here on the night our dear Edgar
was killed."
"I don't want any evidence to prove that, M. Zirknitz. I am satisfied
that you are innocent."
"_Bon_. But there is a doubt in your suspicious English mind which
peeps out of your eye. Ah, here is Jane. Jane," addressing the smart
servant, "will you be so kind as to tell Mrs. Pastor I wish to see her
at once. A pretty girl, Jane," resumed Zirknitz, as she vanished. "I
like pretty women and all pretty things. You think my rooms nice, eh?"
"Charming. But I did not know you were so rich."
"Rich! _Ma foi_, I am as poor as a mousie mouse. If you--"
Before the Austrian could explain the source of his domestic
magnificence his landlady entered the room. She was a formidable-looking
woman, as tall as a Guardsman, with a severe face and the glance of a
predatory bird. Dressed in black, with a lace cap and lace apron, she
presented a wonderfully dignified and stately appearance. Anyone more
unlike the scampish, airy Zirknitz it would have been impossible to
conceive, yet the relaxing of her iron visage and the softening of her
eagle glance showed that Mrs. Pastor was under the spell of her lodger's
charm of manner. He greeted her with a sunny smile when she entered,
and pointed to a chair, but Mrs. Pastor tacitly refused to be seated, and
continued to stand bolt upright in the doorway.
"_Chère madame_," said Zirknitz, in his most caressing tone,
"this is Dr. Ellis, of Dukesfield, who examined the dead body of my
brother-in-law, Mr. Moxton. He wants to know at what hour I returned
here on the night of August 16th last, the night of the murder."
"Is it possible, sir, that you suspect Monsieur Zirknitz in any way?"
asked Mrs. Pastor, solemnly, addressing herself to Ellis.
"No, I do not. M. Zirknitz is performing a little comedy for his own
satisfaction."
"_Eh bien_," said Rudolph, with a graceful wave of his hand, "then for
my own satisfaction, madame, tell this dear doctor what I ask."
"Monsieur Zirknitz returned here at a quarter to twelve," said Mrs.
Pastor. "I was still out of bed, and I admitted him myself. Next
morning, when we were informed of the murder, M. Zirknitz begged me to
take note of the time."
"Most assuredly," broke in the Austrian, impetuously, "for evil people
might have accused me of the murder, since I was at Dukesfield then.
But you see, my brave Ellis, I was here before twelve. As monsieur,
_mon beau frère_, met his fate by your own showing about half-past
eleven, I must be innocent."
"I quite believe in your innocence," said Ellis, rising. "There is no
need to convince me so thoroughly. Thank you, M. Zirknitz, for the
trouble you have taken in proving your case. Since you know nothing of
the whereabouts of your sisters, my errand here is at an end. I shall
go now."
"Ah, I am sorry to lose you. _Je suis désolé, mon bon ami_. Another
cigarette? No? Good-bye. _Au revoir!_ Some day we shall meet again.
Mrs. Pastor, may I ask you to conduct monsieur, _mon ami_, to the
door."
The landlady bowed solemnly, and, leading Ellis from the society of
this graceful babbler, dismissed him with a second bow into the
street. And in this unsatisfactory way ended the doctor's visit to the
Austrian. Unsatisfactory, because he had obtained no information save
that Zirknitz was innocent of the imputed charge, a conclusion at
which Ellis had long since arrived. That same evening, after supper,
he informed Cass about the alibi, but found that the journalist was
less ready to accept the information.
"I don't trust Zirknitz," said he, emphatically, "neither does
Schwartz. The man is a bad egg. I believe this murder is a family
affair to get money. Zirknitz, I daresay, murdered Moxton with that
knife. Janet saw him do so, and told Mrs. Moxton, and they have both
disappeared so that they may not be asked questions likely to lead to
their brother's arrest. As for Busham, now that the will is destroyed
he will hold his tongue."
"But the _alibi_," protested Ellis. "If Zirknitz was at Bloomsbury
before midnight, he could not have been in Dukesfield at half-past
eleven."
"The _alibi_ may be a false one."
"You would not say so if you saw the witness to its truth. Mrs. Pastor
is a regular Puritan, as rigid and unbending as a piece of iron."
"Yet she tolerates that frivolous scamp?"
Ellis shrugged his shoulders. "All women have their weaknesses," said
he. "However, the main point is, that Zirknitz could not inform me of
his sisters' whereabouts."
"Humph! Would not, rather than could not, I should say," observed
Cass, crossly. "I don't believe myself that you will see Mrs. Moxton
again, and I fervently hope that such will be the case. You have now
one or two patients, Bob, the nucleus of a good practice, so give up
this wild-goose chase after the widow and settle down to your work."
Before Ellis could answer this friendly appeal, which was made in all
good faith, Mrs. Basket entered with a note for Ellis, which had been
brought that moment by a boy. "Clark, the grocer's son," explained the
fat landlady. "I 'ope, doctor, it's a noo patient, for if ever a gent
deserved the sick and ailing, you are that gent," after which
expression of sympathy Mrs. Basket waddled out of the room with much
noise.
"Great heavens!" cried Ellis, who was reading the note.
"What is the matter, Bob?"
For answer Ellis threw the note to Cass on the sofa, and he read it
also. Then the two men looked at one another in amazement. And well
they might be amazed, for the note, inviting Ellis to call at Myrtle
Villa, was from no less a person than Janet Gordon.
"Why should she write to me?" asked Ellis, on finding his tongue.
"Mrs. Moxton must have told her about your friendly spirit. Perhaps
she wishes to confide in you, and her sister has brought her to Myrtle
Villa for that purpose. Shall you go, Bob?"
"Go? I should think so. To-night I may learn the secret of the
murder," and Ellis, putting on hat and coat, immediately left the room
in a great hurry.
He ran rather than walked to Myrtle Villa, and, to his joy, saw a
light in the sitting-room window. Mrs. Moxton, the woman he loved, had
returned, and Ellis could hardly restrain his joy when the widow
herself opened the door to him. After greetings, hurried and brief,
were over, she conducted him into the sitting-room. At once Ellis
looked round for the writer of the note.
"Where is your sister?" he asked.
"She is in the next room. You will see her soon. But you are making a
mistake, Dr. Ellis. I wrote that note asking you to call."
"You? Good Heavens! Then you are--"
"I am Janet Gordon. It is my sister who is Mrs. Moxton."