WHEN THIEVES FALL OUT
"Come in here, Mr. Clifford; it's a very fortunate chance your
dropping in on us like this; you couldn't have arranged it better if
you'd tried. I've no doubt Mr. Nash is glad to see you, and I'm quite
sure I am."
As Clifford followed Morgan into the sitting-room he eyed him a little
askance.
"To whom have I the pleasure of speaking?"
"I'm Mr. Oldfield's most intimate friend; I know more about his
affairs than any man living."
"May I ask your name?"
"Morgan; Stephen Morgan."
"Are you also a solicitor?"
"Not yet, exactly; I think I may describe myself as Mr. Oldfield's
confidential agent. Come in, Nash; don't stop out there; then we can
have the door closed--it'll be snugger."
Mr. Nash had stayed in the hall, as if unwilling to associate himself
with Morgan's reception of the new-comer; indeed from his bearing one
might almost have suspected him of an inclination to march out of the
flat, and leave Morgan to deal with Mr. Clifford; possibly he was
deterred by the prosaic accident that his hat was in the sitting-room.
When Morgan bade him go in he went in, and Morgan closed the door
behind him. Clifford looked from one to the other, as if there was
something in the attitude of the two men which he could not make out.
"May I ask what you gentlemen are doing here?"
"You may ask; but, so far as I can see, it's no business of yours."
"Quite so; still--at the same time----"
"Yes, Mr. Clifford; at the same time?"
"I wondered."
"There's no harm in your wondering, Mr. Clifford; none at all."
Mr. Clifford turned to Nash, as if he preferred his appearance to
Morgan's.
"Can you tell me, Mr. Nash, where Mr. Oldfield is? or how I can
place myself in communication with him? As you are possibly aware, he
has not been at the office now for some time, and his continued
absence--and I may add, silence, because I have heard nothing from
him--is occasioning much inconvenience."
"To whom?"
This was Morgan. Clifford seemed to hesitate, then replied--"To me."
"To you? Mr. Oldfield hasn't been in the habit of studying your
convenience, has he, Mr. Clifford?"
The new-comer flushed, as if he felt that the other's words were meant
unpleasantly. When he answered he looked the speaker straight in the
face.
"Mr. Oldfield has been in the habit of studying not only my
convenience, but every one's convenience, Mr. Morgan; if you suppose
the contrary, I know him better than you do. And, just now, the
circumstances are peculiar. I am to be married next week, and I can
hardly carry out in their entirety the arrangements I have made unless
I know what Mr. Oldfield's movements are likely to be."
"I see; you are to be married next week?"
"Mr. Oldfield knows that I am to be married next week."
"Does he? What's the lady's name?"
"Mr. Oldfield also knows the lady's name; I told him."
"Did you? Then I fancy he's forgotten."
"I never knew Mr. Oldfield forget anything that was of importance to
any one in whom he was interested; so I take leave to doubt your
fancy, Mr. Morgan."
Mr. Morgan looked at the speaker, for some moments, in rather a
peculiar way; then he thrust his hands deeper into his trousers
pockets, leaned back his head, and laughed. Clifford flushed again.
"What is the jest, Mr. Morgan?"
"Jest? Clifford, you're a funny one! you're all the jest I want."
"Sir!"
"I give you my word, my dear fellow--" Morgan advanced, with the
apparent intention of laying his hand upon the other's shoulder;
Clifford retreated; Morgan stared. "What's the matter? Why do you draw
back?"
Clifford's manner was courteously frigid.
"You will be able to say anything you wish to say to me from where you
are."
"Oh yes, I'm quite able to say to you all I wish from where I am; or
from anywhere. Don't you think, Mr. Clifford, you're cutting it a
trifle fine?"
"I don't understand."
"No? Surely you're not dull. I beg you to believe I'm not. Haven't I
told you I'm Mr. Oldfield's confidential agent?"
"You have, sir; though what especial interest that fact should have
for me I still fail to understand; and yet I believe that I am not
dull beyond the average man. Mr. Nash, while Mr. Morgan is
endeavouring to find words with which to convey his meaning to my
comprehension, may I again ask you how I can place myself in immediate
communication with Mr. Oldfield?"
Before Nash could answer, Morgan made a hasty movement towards the
speaker, crying--
"You miserable hypocrite! trying to play the innocent with us! asking
how you can place yourself in communication with Mr. Oldfield, when
you know he's dead!"
"Dead! Mr. Oldfield dead, Mr. Morgan!"
"Stop that game of pretending, or I shan't be able to keep my hands
off you! Not only is Mr. Oldfield dead, and you know it, but you
killed him!"
"Killed him! I! Mr. Nash, is your friend sane?"
"Did ever rogue play the hypocrite so brazenly? and actually I've one
of the weapons with which he killed him on me! and here it is. You
killed him, Mr. Clifford, with that."
Morgan held out a slip of blue paper on which there was some writing.
"With that? And what is that? It looks to me rather a singular weapon
with which to commit murder."
"Does it? you sneering villain! When Brown does all in his power to
make of Smith an honest man, and Smith turns out to be a blackguard
and a thief, do you think that isn't a blow to Brown? It was that kind
of blow killed Joseph Oldfield; it was the shock of learning that you
were a forger."
"Learning that I was a forger! Mr. Morgan, you--you said just now that
you found it difficult to keep your hands off me; now I'm finding it
difficult to keep mine off you. What justification have you for the
statement you have just made, that I am a forger?"
"Isn't that justification enough?"
Again Morgan held out the slip of paper.
"I repeat the question I put to you just now--what is that?"
"It's news to you that it's one of the bills you forged?"
"One? Do you charge me with forging others?"
"I don't know what you got for them, Mr. Clifford, but you forged
bills to the face value of over forty thousand pounds. Are incidents
of the kind of such frequent occurrence in your career that it is
necessary to recall this one to your recollection?"
"And do you seriously accuse me of forging bills for more than forty
thousand pounds? Was ever anything heard like it?"
"Often; there have been plenty of scoundrels before you, if you find
that any consolation."
"Don't imagine that because I endeavour to retain my self-control in
the midst of this--this sudden nightmare that I am incapable of
showing resentment; if that is what you imagine, you are wrong, Mr.
Morgan. What grounds have you for asserting that I forged that bill,
or any bill?"
"Mr. Clifford, drop the mask; the time for bluff has gone; try to be
candid. You see, Mr. Nash and I know all about it."
"Do you? It so happens that I don't. I ask you again, what grounds
have you for asserting that I've committed forgery? Don't be vague; be
specific."
"I happen to know the man to whom you gave the bills."
"Do you? What's his name?"
"Sir Henry Trevor."
"Sir Henry Trevor? Harry Trevor? Do you venture to affirm that Harry
Trevor says he got forged bills from me, or any bills?"
"He took them to the discounters; when they asked where he got them
from, he said they came from you. What he got for them, or what share
you had of the plunder, I can't say; at present I'd rather not know;
these are details which may come out at the Old Bailey."
Up to then Frank Clifford had kept his countenance to a wonderful
degree; but when Mr. Morgan spoke of the Old Bailey his lips
flickered, as they might have done had he been suddenly attacked by
St. Vitus' Dance; the movement passed, he was calm again.
"Will you let me look at that bill you're holding? I'll not touch it;
I merely want to look."
"I'll take care you don t touch it. You can look at an old friend.
"What is the signature it bears?"
"Don't know? I'll tell you. Donald Lindsay, of Cloverlea."
"Donald Lindsay, of Cloverlea? And who is Donald Lindsay, of
Cloverlea?"
"Really, Mr. Clifford, when you didn't become an actor what the stage
lost! and now-a-days there are so few actors who are to the manner
born. It's the very gist of your offending, you sly scamp, that you
made such use of the knowledge you had surreptitiously obtained that
Joseph Oldfield, of Peter Piper's Popular Pills, was Donald Lindsay,
of Cloverlea."
Clifford stared, as if the other had been speaking in a foreign
language.
"What's that? Would you mind saying that again?"
"I'll not say it again; I'll not pipe to your dancing, you brazen
vagabond!"
"Are you hinting that Joseph Oldfield is, or was, I don't know which
it ought to be, a pseudonym? that he had, or has, another name?"
"Is that the trick you're trying to play? You wish it to be believed
that you didn't know there was such a person as Donald Lindsay; that
he and Joseph Oldfield were one and the same; and that in putting the
name upon a bill stamp you did it innocently, in ignorance that was
childlike and bland. The idea is ingenious; as, I fancy, Mr. Clifford,
most of your ideas are; but you won't find a judge or jury quite so
simple."
Ignoring Mr. Morgan, Frank Clifford, to the unprejudiced observer,
seemed to be engaged in reflections of his own; to which he presently
gave shape in disconnected words.
"Donald Lindsay? I seem to have heard the name."
"I shouldn't be surprised."
"Donald Lindsay? Why--it can't be!"
"That conscience is pricking you at last? No, it can't be that."
"Harry Trevor wouldn't--couldn't--he couldn't do a thing like that;
and yet----"
"And yet? So it's Harry Trevor now; as usual, everybody's guilty
except the man who did it."
"Mr. Morgan, I'm willing to believe that you don't realize what a
confused nightmare I seem all at once to be moving in, and that that
explains your attitude. If you did realize how wholly you have taken
me by surprise----"
"I do realize that; I quite think that you're altogether the most
surprised man I've lately met. I don't know what you did expect when
you rang that bell, but I don't suppose that you expected this."
"I did not; though you speak in one sense, and I in another. With
reference to what you say about those bills, a horrible--I can only
call it fear, has come into my mind, of which I scarcely dare to
think, lest I should be guilty of heinous injustice; and before I
speak of it----"
"You would like to have time to think it over?"
"I should."
"Then you shall have it; that's what I'm coming to. You will be at the
office to-morrow morning at eleven o'clock."
"I will."
"You had better."
"You need not tell me that."
"Needn't I? I think I need. Mr. Nash and I are administering Mr.
Oldfield's estate."
"Are you an executor?"
"I am; the only executor. I do not know that I ought to say so, but
you will understand that I am not committing myself, and that I speak
without prejudice; but, at present, it is our wish--Mr. Nash's and
mine--not to prosecute."
"Prosecute!"
"Prosecute. Do you wish me to believe that you were unaware that
forgers are occasionally prosecuted? Our first consideration is, and
must be, the business; we fear that it may do the business no good to
have the manager sent to penal servitude for forgery. These bills have
been taken up, in the first place under a misapprehension, at a very
heavy cost; we will tell you all about that to-morrow; you will have
to make that loss good."
"I shall!"
"You will; do you imagine that you are to escape scathless? You are a
truly remarkable person. But, as I have said, we will discuss that in
the morning. I only trust that no further irregularities may be
brought to light."
"Mr. Morgan!"
"Please drop that tone; it makes me sick; nothing is so nauseous as a
futile hypocrite. My advice to you is, think things over, carefully,
seriously; in the morning make a clean breast of everything; the more
candid we find you the better it will be. Now, as Mr. Nash and I have
much to attend to, I must ask you to leave us."
"That I am willing to do; but so far you have done all the talking;
but, before I go, there are some remarks which I wish to make."
"We wish to hear nothing now--nothing; think first, Mr. Clifford,
think."
"It is not necessary to think before making simple statements dealing
with plain facts, and you will have to listen, willingly or not; I
have had to listen, now it is your turn. What I have to say is this;
that I did not know Mr. Oldfield was dead; that I did not know that he
had any name but Oldfield; that I had no knowledge of his connection
with Donald Lindsay, of Cloverlea; that this is the first time I have
been made aware that there ever was such a person as Donald Lindsay;
that I never before saw the bill of exchange which you showed me just
now."
"I have proof to the contrary."
"That's impossible. That there may be a mystery about that bill, and
about the others of which you have spoken, I admit; between this and
to-morrow I may be able to institute inquiries which will throw light
on it; but I assure you, Mr. Morgan, I am as incapable of forgery as
you are. If Mr. Oldfield really did believe that I was capable of such
conduct he was a much worse judge of character than I believed he was.
Now, Mr. Morgan, I will go."
"With a lie upon your lips."
"No, sir, not with a lie upon my lips. You will either give your
authorities for the statements you have made, or, in the morning, you
will apologize. You will find that you will have to make many
apologies, Mr. Morgan. I notice, Mr. Nash, that you have not
associated yourself with the charges Mr. Morgan has made, nor with the
language he has used; when I lay the facts before you in the morning,
as I hope to be in a position to do, you will have no cause to regret
your attitude."
With that Mr. Clifford marched out of the room, and through the front
door. When he had gone Mr. Morgan leaned against a corner of a table,
with his hands in his trousers pockets, and whistled; then he looked
at Mr. Nash, and smiled.
"Got a face, hasn't he? He can bluff. We may find him rather a harder
nut to crack than I imagined; it's just possible that we may have to
change our plan of operations; the line he has taken up is a little
unexpected. What do you think?"
"I don't think, Mr. Morgan; I know."
Mr. Morgan purposely ignored the peculiarity of the other's tone.
"What do you know, my dear Nash?"
"I know one thing; that if you do go to Mr. Clifford's office in the
morning you will go alone."
"Shall I? How's that? Got a previous engagement?"
"Here, and now, you and I part company; you go your way, I go mine;
under no circumstances will I associate myself with you again."
"Steady, Nash, steady; do you know where talk like that will lead
you?"
"It will lead to honesty."
"It will lead you to jail, and pretty soon."
"Will it? I'll take the risk. It is not necessary for you to remind me
that on a certain occasion I behaved like a blackguard, and perhaps
worse; I have only regretted it once, and that's been ever since."
"Regrets, in a case like yours, are useless; they simply mean that you
regret that you're found out. Of course you do."
"You'll find that my regrets mean more than that. I've behaved badly
since; I've acted like a coward in allowing you to use your guilty
knowledge."
"Guilty knowledge?"
"Yes, your guilty knowledge, as you'll discover if you're not careful;
I've let you use it as a lever to drive me into further misdoing.
You've threatened me with the consequences of my misconduct; I've been
afraid to face them. That's over now; I'm going to face them, if only
as the lesser of two evils."
"Tell me, Nash, what's started you in this conversational strain?"
"What's brought me to the sticking-point is your conduct to Mr.
Clifford. He's an innocent man; of that I'm absolutely certain; every
insult you flung at him stung me; it shamed me to feel that I was your
associate. I'll be your associate no longer. I'll have no part or
parcel in your attempts to entangle Mr. Clifford as you've entangled
me. I believe they'll fail; but if they do or don't, I'll have no
share in them. Henceforward you and I are strangers; I'm going; if you
stay, you stay alone."
"Going, are you? Oh no, you're not!"
Morgan moved between Nash and the door. The two men confronted each
other; there was something on Herbert Nash's face which made of him a
new man.
"Mr. Morgan"--even in his voice there was a new tone--"more than once
my fingers have itched to take you by the throat, and choke the life
half out of you. If you are wise, you will not attempt to detain me,
or I may find the temptation too strong."
Possibly Mr. Morgan was conscious that there was something unusual
about Herbert Nash; his manner continued to be so conciliatory.
"Come, my dear fellow, don't let us fall out about nothing at all. I'm
quite ready to listen to anything you have to say; only, before you
take a step there's no retracing, do listen to reason."
"No, thank you; I've heard too much of what you call reason already;
I'll hear no more. Stand out of my way."
"Nash, Nash, don't be hasty! If you'll only let me speak a dozen
words, you'll view the situation in quite a different light."
"Shall I? Then I'll not let you speak them. I see the situation now in
the only light I mean to see it. Stand out of my way."
Nash, moving forward, gripped Morgan by the shoulders; either the
assault was unexpected, or he used great force. Swinging Morgan round,
he sent him reeling backwards half across the room; until, coming into
unlooked-for contact with a chair, he fell heavily on to the floor.
Before he could recover Nash had gone from the room, and was out of
the flat. Picking himself up, although he seemed a trifle dazed,
Morgan went rushing after him. When he reached the landing he heard
Nash's voice come up the well of the staircase, from the floor below.
"Porter, the man Morgan, whom I have left in Mr. Oldfield's flat, has
no right whatever to be there."
"Hasn't he, sir? How's that? He seems to have done something to upset
Mr. Clifford."
"When he comes down, if you find that he has anything on him belonging
to the flat--papers, letters, anything--they have been stolen. If you
allow him to leave the building with them on him, possibly you will be
held responsible."
"Shall I? He shan't leave here with anything on him that doesn't
belong to him, I promise you; there are two or three people about the
place who'll see to that."
Mr. Morgan waited to hear no more. He slunk back into the flat and
shut the door.