A LEADER OF SOCIETY.
It was a most important discovery that Jack had made, and Rigby did
not fail to see what developments it was likely to lead to. If what
Masefield had said was true--and Rigby saw no reason to doubt it--here
they had Anstruther directly connected with crime.
"Do you really think that our friend actually engineered that business
at Lord Longworth's?" Rigby asked.
"I can come to no other conclusion," Jack replied. "You must
understand that Anstruther is a kind of a specialist in crime; he has
frequently been consulted by the police, and, I believe, has brought
off some wonderful results. He has even written a book on the subject.
Now, we know Anstruther to be an unscrupulous rascal. The police
looked upon him as a brilliant aid to themselves. If a man like this
chooses to play the part of a criminal Dupuin, see what marvelous
opportunities he has. He knows everything about the movements of the
police; he can anticipate all their schemes. It is as if Bates himself
had turned burglar. Whatever Mrs. Montague might say, it is pretty
certain that the embroidered scarf belongs to Anstruther. Quite
inadvertently he left it at Lord Longworth's last night, where he was
passing in the crowd as an invited guest."
"I know that sort of thing is done," Rigby said. "A very impudent
example came under my notice the other day. The thing is much easier
done than one would imagine."
"Do you mean to say," Jack asked, "that it is possible for a
gentlemanly scoundrel to walk into the house of some great society
lady giving a reception, and not be spotted immediately for what he
is? It seems absurd!"
"Not a bit of it!" Rigby replied. "To the audacious everything is
possible. Supposing a duchess is giving a reception. She has asked
perhaps a thousand guests. Half-way through the evening she is so
tired and worn out that she does not know or care to whom she may be
speaking. Here is the chance for the gentlemanly swindler we are
talking about. Of course he is perfectly dressed; he has the most
exquisite manners. He lounges up to his hostess, and, after the usual
greetings, makes some confidential remark about some friend of the
family, which immediately stamps him as one of a certain set. All he
has got to do now is to saunter along as if the whole place belonged
to him, and help himself to such costly trifles as his mind inclines
to."
"Did you ever know of a case in point?" Jack asked.
"My dear chap, I not only know of a case, but I was more or less party
to it. It was done for a bet, and I was one of the losers. It was so
easily managed that I should not in the least mind trying it myself."
"Well, it seems very odd to me," Jack murmured. "Still, if you know it
has been done, there is an end of it."
"Well, it has been shown pretty conclusively." said Rigby, "that
Anstruther must have been there last night."
"Quite so," Jack went on. "At any rate the scarf was left behind. I
recognized it as soon as ever I saw it in Bates's hand; therefore I
was absolutely sure that Anstruther had been at the reception. That is
why I suggested that paragraph in the _Planet_. It is just the sort of
silly gossip that papers publish after a sensational crime, and is
calculated to hamper the police more than help them. I felt quite sure
that somebody or other would bring that paragraph to Anstruther's
notice, and that he would lose no time in trying to recover the scarf.
I dare say there are other scarves like it in existence, but they are
not so common that Anstruther could afford to take any risk. That he
realized the gravity of the situation is proved by the fact that he
has lost no time in calling at Lord Longworth's to recover the missing
property. I think I have made my case very clear."
"Nothing could be clearer," Rigby replied. "Anstruther is at the
bottom of this business. I should say he is the cleverest rascal in
London at the present moment. And mark the cunning of the beast. Don't
you see how easy he can prove an alibi? If he were met face to face
now, and taxed with the fact that he was at Lord Longworth's last
night he would politely deny it, and, if pressed, have not the
slightest difficulty of demonstrating that he was elsewhere."
"But I don't quite see," Jack interrupted, "exactly how that----"
"Clear as mud," Rigby said. "Why he has only got to call his servants
and Miss Helmsley to prove that he was in the study all the evening
playing his violin."
"How stupid of me," Jack muttered. "The full beauty of that little
scheme had been lost on me. There is a good deal we have to learn yet.
But I can't stay talking to you any longer this morning, as I promised
Claire that I would go and see Lady Barmouth. I have told Claire
nearly everything there is to learn, and she is quite willing to be a
friend of Lady Barmouth's and share her troubles. I will see you later
on in the day."
Jack went off in the direction of Lord Barmouth's house. He had some
little hesitation in calling so early in the day, but then the matter
was imperative, and he knew that Lady Barmouth would be glad to hear
Claire's decision. The lady in question was sitting in her boudoir,
accompanied by two secretaries, who appeared to be tremendously busy
with a long visiting list and some exquisitely-designed cards of
invitation to a masked ball. But Lady Barmouth, heedless of Jack's
apologies, declared that she had always time to spare for him.
"It is not I who am so busy." she said; "in fact, this is merely
mechanical work. I am giving my great party of the season, and now
that I have made out the list of intended guests, the rest is merely
mechanical."
So saying, Lady Barmouth led the way into an inner drawing-room, the
door of which she carefully closed.
"You have some news for me." she cried eagerly. "I am quite sure you
have come straight to me from Miss Helmsley."
"That is the fact," Jack said gravely. "Rather against my better
judgment, I have told Claire everything. She knows now the class of
man her guardian is; she knows that she will have to be terribly
careful lest he should suspect. But Claire has a courage and
determination which came quite as a surprise to me. I think the secret
will be safe in her hands."
"Yes! yes!" Lady Barmouth cried; "but what about me?"
"I was coming to that. It seems to be a case of mutual sympathy
between you. As a matter of fact it seems to me that Claire likes you
as well as you like her. Anyway, she is going to see you this
afternoon, when you can talk matters over without reserve. But tell
me, does Lord Barmouth take any kind of interest in these festivities
of yours?"
"He is goodness and kindness itself," Lady Barmouth said warmly. "He
has always insisted that his misfortunes should not interfere with my
personal enjoyment. At a dinner, or a reception, or an ordinary dance,
my husband never shows himself. Despite his terrible misfortunes he
thoroughly enjoys his amusements; he likes to mingle with people,
seeing everything, and not being seen himself. That is why I give so
many of these masked balls. This is going to be an extra smart affair,
and I am asking my lady friends to wear as many jewels as possible."
"Claire told me something about it," Jack said. "I gathered that she
is to be one of the invited guests."
"I am asking both Miss Helmsley and Mr. Anstruther," Lady Barmouth
explained. "There is some danger in asking the latter, but one has to
take these risks."
Jack murmured something that sounded sympathetic. Had Lady Barmouth
only known it, the risk was far greater than she imagined. If Jack's
suspicions were correct that Anstruther was mixed up with a gang of
expert thieves, here then was a golden opportunity. The mere fact of
it being a masked ball simply added to his opportunities. So deeply
did Jack ponder over this, that it was some little time before he
grasped the fact that Lady Barmouth was still giving him details of
the forthcoming function.
"I am asking a lot of most prominent actresses." she said, "together
with a number of leading musicians, and they are getting up a kind of
morris dance. Of course, the music will be supplied by a small band of
famous artists, and I am getting this new man Padini to be present."
Here was more news with a vengeance. But there was nothing to be
gained by telling Lady Barmouth what had been elicited with regard to
Padini.
"I presume I shall be honored with an invitation," Jack suggested. "I
see from the expression of your face that I am to be a guest. Might I
beg the favor of a card for a friend of mine?"
"More mysteries!" Lady Barmouth laughed. "Oh, you need not tell me
unless it is absolutely necessary. You shall take the card away with
you if you like, and deliver it to your friend personally."
Jack was seeing his way pretty clearly by this time. He was
anticipating more than one important discovery during the progress of
the masked dance. The card he had begged was, of course, for Rigby,
and it would go hard if between them they did not discover something
of importance.
"Now, I am going to speak to you on a more or less painful topic,"
Jack said gravely. "And I am going to ask you to be exceedingly candid
with me. I want you to tell me what is the exact connection between
Lord Barmouth and the Nostalgo posters which are so prominent in
London at present."
The jeweled pen with which Lady Barmouth had been scribbling on the
two invitation cards fell from her fingers on to the blotting pad.
There were trouble and unhappiness in her eyes, her face had turned
deadly pale; it was some little time before she spoke.
"Must I really tell you that?" she almost pleaded. "You are striking
directly at the root of the unhappiness which poisons this house. It
is not as if you really knew anything----"
"But indeed I know more than you give me credit for," Jack urged. "It
was of no seeking of mine; it was not the result of any vulgar
curiosity; but last night when your husband was here I caught one
glimpse of his face in the light of the log fire. And there I saw at
once that I was face to face with Nostalgo. Believe me, it is with the
greatest possible regret that I have to speak like this, but I am near
to the heart of the mystery, and if you are plain and frank with me I
am sanguine enough to believe that I can remove your unhappiness
altogether."
"But the secret is not my own," Lady Barmouth faltered.
"Then let us assume that I have wrested it from you," Jack murmured.
"It is no fault of yours that I know so much. It is no fault of yours
that you are in some way under an obligation to somebody--an
obligation which compelled you to be in Montrose Place last night.
Luckily for us you kept your appointment. But there was somebody else
also keeping an appointment in the courtyard. Whether he came there
dragged by the force of circumstances, or whether he came to watch,
matters little. But as he paused to light a cigarette and the pallid
blue of the flame shone on his face I recognized--Lord Barmouth."
The listener said nothing; she merely bowed her head over the blotting
pad before her.
"Ah! I feel the circumstances are too strong for me." she said. "It is
as if you were pushing me over the edge of a precipice. I cannot
decide this matter on my own initiative."
"That is exactly the line I hoped you would take," Jack cried eagerly.
"After his interview with us last night, Lord Barmouth must be
perfectly sure of the fact that Rigby and myself are actuated by the
kindest motives towards him. Go and see him now, tell him all that I
have said to you, and ask him if he will be good enough to grant me a
ten minutes' private conversation. I am sure he will do this; indeed,
if he refuses, there are others interested in the matter who may cause
him to say in public what he declines to admit in private."
"I will do as you suggest," Lady Barmouth replied, "though I fear you
will be met with a refusal as firm as it is courteous. If you will
excuse me for a moment----"
Lady Barmouth said no more, but turned hurriedly and left the room.
That she was very deeply moved Jack could see for himself. She came
back presently, with a wan, white ghost of a smile on her lips, and a
remark to the effect that Lord Barmouth was not prepared to accede to
Jack's request offhand, but that he would give it his earnest
consideration, and send his decision in the course of a quarter of an
hour.
"It is exceedingly awkward for me," Jack said; "you can see how
delicate the ground is I stand upon. But believe me I am only being
cruel to be kind. I am sure that when I have finished my interview
with Lord Barmouth he will be exceedingly glad that he has consented
to see me."
"Oh, I quite understand your feelings," Lady Barmouth exclaimed. "It
must be dreadful for a gentleman to appear obtruding like this. But
are you quite sure that the figure you saw in the courtyard at
Montrose Place last night was my husband? You seem to have forgotten
the other Nostalgo who was supposed to have been found dead by
yourself in Panton Square the other night."
Jack admitted readily enough that there were many sides to the mystery
as yet unsolved. He was still discussing the point, when the footman
entered, and gravely announced that Lord Barmouth was waiting to see
Mr. Masefield. Lady Barmouth rose to her feet at once, and escorted
Jack to a small room at the end of the corridor. The apartment was in
complete darkness; it was just possible to discern the outline of a
figure in an armchair.
"I am pleased to see you, Mr. Masefield. I think you will find an
armchair on the other side of the fireplace. My dear, I shall be
pleased if you will leave Mr. Masefield and myself alone together."