THE SUPREME INDUCEMENT
Pratt was in Eldrick & Pascoe's office soon after half-past eight next
morning, and for nearly forty minutes he had the place entirely to
himself. But it took only a few of those minutes for him to do what he
had carefully planned before he went to bed the previous night. Shutting
himself into Eldrick's private room, and making sure that he was alone
that time, he immediately opened the drawer in the senior partner's
desk, wherein Eldrick, culpably enough, as Parrawhite had sneeringly
remarked, was accustomed to put loose money. Eldrick was strangely
careless in that way: he would throw money into that drawer in presence
of his clerks--notes, gold, silver. If it happened to occur to him, he
would take the money out at the end of the afternoon and hand it to
Pratt to lock up in the safe; but as often as not, it did not occur.
Pratt had more than once ventured on a hint which was almost a
remonstrance, and Eldrick had paid no attention to him. He was a
careless, easy-going man in many respects, Eldrick, and liked to do
things in his own way. And after all, as Pratt had decided, when he
found that his hints were not listened to, it was Eldrick's own affair
if he liked to leave the money lying about.
There was money lying about in that drawer when Pratt drew it open; it
was never locked, day or night, or, if it was, the key was left in it.
As soon as he opened it, he saw gold--two or three sovereigns--and
silver--a little pile of it. And, under a letter weight, four banknotes
of ten pounds each. But this was precisely what Pratt had expected to
see; he himself had handed banknotes, gold, and silver to Eldrick the
previous evening, just after receiving them from a client who had called
to pay his bill. And he had seen Eldrick place them in the drawer, as
usual, and soon afterwards Eldrick had walked out, saying he was going
to the club, and he had never returned.
What Pratt now did was done as the result of careful thought and
deliberation. There was a cheque-book lying on top of some papers in the
drawer; he took it up and tore three cheques out of it. Then he picked
up the bank-notes, tore them and the abstracted blank cheques into
pieces, and dropped the pieces in the fire recently lighted by the
caretaker. He watched these fragments burn, and then he put the gold and
silver in his hip-pocket, where he already carried a good deal of his
own, and walked out.
Nine o'clock brought the office-boy; a quarter-past nine brought the
clerks; at ten o'clock Eldrick walked in. According to custom, Pratt
went into Eldrick's room with the letters, and went through them with
him. One of them contained a legal document over which the solicitor
frowned a little.
"Ask Parrawhite's opinion about that," he said presently, indicating a
marked paragraph.
"Parrawhite has not come in this morning, sir," observed Pratt,
gathering up letters and papers. "I'll draw his attention to it when he
arrives."
He went into the outer office, only to be summoned back to Eldrick a few
minutes later. The senior partner was standing by his desk, looking a
little concerned, and, thought Pratt, decidedly uncomfortable. He
motioned the clerk to close the door.
"Has Parrawhite come?" he asked.
"No," replied Pratt, "Not yet, Mr. Eldrick."
"Is--is he usually late?" inquired Eldrick.
"Usually quite punctual--half-past nine," said Pratt.
Eldrick glanced at his watch; then at his clerk.
"Didn't you give me some cash last night?" he asked.
"Forty-three pounds nine," answered Pratt. "Thompson's bill of costs--he
paid it yesterday afternoon."
Eldrick looked more uncomfortable than ever.
"Well--the fact is," he said, "I--I meant to hand it to you to put in
the safe, Pratt, but I didn't come back from the club. And--it's gone!"
Pratt simulated concern--but not astonishment. And Eldrick pulled open
the drawer, and waved a hand over it.
"I put it down there," he said. "Very careless of me, no doubt--but
nothing of this sort has ever happened before, and--however, there's the
unpleasant fact, Pratt. The money's gone!"
Pratt, who had hastily turned over the papers and other contents of the
drawer, shook his head and used his privilege as an old and confidential
servant. "I've always said, sir, that it was a great mistake to leave
loose money lying about," he remarked mournfully. "If there'd only been
a practice of letting me lock anything of that sort up in the safe every
night--and this chequebook, too, sir--then----"
"I know--I know!" said Eldrick. "Very reprehensible on my part--I'm
afraid I am careless--no doubt of it. But----"
He in his turn was interrupted by Pratt, who was turning over the
cheque-book.
"Some cheque forms have been taken out of this," he said. "Three! at the
end. Look there, sir!"
Eldrick uttered an exclamation of intense annoyance and disgust. He
looked at the despoiled cheque-book, and flung it into the drawer.
"Pratt!" he said, turning half appealingly, half confidentially to the
clerk. "Don't say a word of this--above all, don't mention it to Mr.
Pascoe. It's my fault and I must make the forty-three pounds good.
Pratt, I'm afraid this is Parrawhite's work. I--well, I may as well tell
you--he'd been in trouble before he came here. I gave him another
chance--I'd known him, years ago. I thought he'd go straight. But--I
fear he's been tempted. He may have seen me leave money about. Was he in
here last night?"
Pratt pointed to a document which lay on Eldrick's desk.
"He came in here to leave that for your perusal," he answered. "He was
in here--alone--a minute or two before he left."
All these lies came readily and naturally--and Eldrick swallowed each.
He shook his head.
"My fault--all my fault!" he said. "Look here--keep it quiet. But--do
you know where Parrawhite has lived--lodged?"
"No!" replied Pratt. "Some of the others may, though!"
"Try to find out--quickly," continued Eldrick; "Then, make some excuse
to go out--take papers somewhere, or something--and find if he's left
his lodgings! I--I don't want to set the police on him. He was a decent
fellow, once. See what you can make out, Pratt. In strict secrecy, you
know---I do not want this to go further."
Pratt could have danced for joy when he presently went out into the
town. There would be no hue-and-cry after Parrawhite--none! Eldrick
would accept the fact that Parrawhite had robbed him and flown--and
Parrawhite would never be heard of--never mentioned again. It was the
height of good luck for him. Already he had got rid of any small scraps
of regret or remorse about the killing of his fellow-clerk. Why should
he be sorry? The scoundrel had tried to murder him, thinking no doubt
that he had the will on him. And he had not meant to kill him--what he
had done, he had done in self-defence. No--everything was working most
admirably--Parrawhite's previous bad record, Eldrick's carelessness and
his desire to shut things up: it was all good. From that day forward,
Parrawhite would be as if he had never been. Pratt was not even afraid
of the body being discovered--though he believed that it would remain
where it was for ever--for the probability was that the authorities
would fill up that pit with earth and stones. But if it was brought to
light? Why, the explanation was simple.
Parrawhite, having robbed his employer, had been robbed himself,
possibly by men with whom he had been drinking, and had been murdered in
the bargain. No suspicion could attach to him, Pratt--he had nothing to
fear--nothing!
For the form of the thing, he called at the place whereat Parrawhite had
lodged--they had seen nothing of him since the previous morning. They
were poor, cheap lodgings in a mean street. The woman of the house said
that Parrawhite had gone out as usual the morning before, and had never
been in again. In order to find out all he could, Pratt asked if he had
left much behind him in the way of belongings, and--just as he had
expected--he learned that Parrawhite's personal property was remarkably
limited: he possessed only one suit of clothes and not over much
besides, said the landlady.
"Is there aught wrong?" she asked, when Pratt had finished his
questions. "Are you from where he worked?"
"That's it," answered Pratt, "And he hasn't turned up this morning, and
we think he's left the town. Owe you anything, missis?"
"Nay, nothing much," she replied. "Ten shillings 'ud cover it, mister."
Pratt gave her half a sovereign. It was not out of consideration for
her, nor as a concession to Parrawhite's memory: it was simply to stop
her from coming down to Eldrick & Pascoe's.
"Well, I don't think you'll see him again," he remarked. "And I dare say
you won't care if you don't."
He turned away then, but before he had gone far, the woman called him
back.
"What am I to do with his bits of things, mister, if he doesn't come
back?" she asked.
"Aught you please," answered Pratt, indifferently. "Throw 'em on the
dust-heap."
As he went back to the centre of the town, he occupied himself in
considering his attitude to Mrs. Mallathorpe when she called on him that
evening. In spite of his own previous notion, and of his
carefully-worked-out scheme about the stewardship, he had been impressed
by what Parrawhite has said as to the wisdom of selling the will for
cash. Pratt did not believe that there was anything in the Collingwood
suggestion--no doubt whatever, he had decided, that old Bartle had meant
to tell Mrs. Mallathorpe of his discovery when she called in answer to
his note, but as he had died before she could call, and as he had told
nobody but him, Pratt, what possible danger could there be from
Collingwood? And a stewardship for life appealed to him. He knew, from
observation of the world, what a fine thing it is to have a certainty.
Once he became steward and agent of the Normandale Grange estate, he
would stick there, until he had saved a tidy heap of money. Then he
would retire--with a pension and a handsome present--and enjoy himself.
To be provided for, for life!--what more could a wise man want? And
yet--there was something in what that devil Parrawhite had urged.
For there was a risk--however small--of discovery, and if discovery were
made, there would be a nice penalty to pay. It might, after all, be
better to sell the will outright--for as much ready money as ever he
could get, and to take his gains far away, and start out on a career
elsewhere. After all, there was much to be said for the old proverb. The
only question was--was the bird in hand worth the two; or the money,
which he believed he would net in the bush?
Pratt's doubts on this point were settled in a curious fashion. He had
reached the centre of the town in his return to Eldrick's, and there, in
the fashionable shopping street, he ran up against an acquaintance. He
and the acquaintance stopped and chatted--about nothing. And as they
lounged on the curb, a smart victoria drew up close by, and out of it,
alone, stepped a girl who immediately attracted Pratt's eyes. He watched
her across the pavement; he watched her into the shop. And his companion
laughed.
"That's the sort!" he remarked flippantly. "If you and I had one each,
old man--what?"
"Who is she?" demanded Pratt.
The acquaintance stared at him in surprise.
"What!" he exclaimed. "You don't know. That's Miss Mallathorpe."
"I didn't know," said Pratt. "Fact!"
He waited until Nesta Mallathorpe came out and drove away--so that he
could get another and a closer look at her. And when she was gone, he
went slowly back to the office, his mind made up. Risk or no risk, he
would carry out his original notion. Whatever Mrs. Mallathorpe might
offer, he would stick to his idea of close and intimate connection with
Normandale Grange.