business, in which my late client was undoubtedly engaged, is connected
with Mr. Levendale. That can be found out. But I have still more to
tell you--perhaps, considering everything, the most important matter of
the whole lot. On Monday morning last--that would be a few hours before
his death--Mr. Multenius called at the bank and took from it a small
packet which he had entrusted to his banker's keeping only a fortnight
previously. The bankers do not know what was in that packet--he had
more than once got them to take care of similar packets at one time or
another. But they described it to me just now. A packet, evidently
enclosing a small, hard box, some four or five inches square in all
directions, wrapped in strong cartridge paper, and heavily sealed with
red wax. It bore Mr. Multenius's name and address--written by himself.
Now, then, Miss Wildrose--he took that packet away from the bank at
about twelve-thirty on Monday noon. Have you seen anything of it?"
"Nothing!" answered Zillah with certainty. "There's no such packet
here, Mr. Penniket. I've been through everything--safes, drawers,
chests, since my grandfather died, and I've not found anything that I
didn't know of. I remember that he went out last Monday morning--he was
away two hours, and came in again about a quarter past one, but I never
saw such a packet in his possession as that you describe. I know
nothing of it."
"Well," said the solicitor, after a pause, "there are the facts. And
the question now is--ought we not to tell all this to the police, at
once? This connection of Levendale with my late client--as undoubted as
it seems to have been secret--needs investigation. According to Mr.
Purdie here--Levendale has suddenly disappeared--or, at any rate, left
home under mysterious circumstances. Has that disappearance anything to
do with Multenius's death? Has it anything to do with the death of this
next door man, Parslett, last night? And has Levendale any connections
with the strange man who dropped one platinum solitaire stud in Mrs.
Goldmark's restaurant, and another in this parlour?"
No one attempted to answer these questions for a moment; then, Melky,
as if seized with a sudden inspiration, smote the table and leaned over
it towards the solicitor.
"Mr. Penniket!" he said, glancing around him as if to invite approval
of what he was about to say. "You're a lawyer, mister!--you can put
things in order and present 'em as if they was in a catalogue! Take the
whole business to New Scotland Yard, sir!--let the big men at
headquarters have a go at it. That's what I say! There's some queer
mystery at the bottom of all this, Mr. Penniket, and it ain't a one-man
job. Go to the Yard, mister--let 'em try their brains on it!"
Zillah made a murmured remark which seemed to second her cousin's
proposal, and Mr. Penniket turned to Purdie.
"I understand you to be a business man," he remarked. "What do you say?"
"As far as I can put things together," answered Purdie, "I fully agree
that there is some extraordinary mystery round and about Mr.
Multenius's death. And as the detective force at New Scotland Yard
exists for the solution of such problems--why, I should certainly tell
the authorities there everything that is known. Why not?"
"Very good," said Mr. Penniket. "Then it will be well if you two come
with me. The more information we can give to the heads of the Criminal
Investigation Department, the better. We'll go there at once."
In a few moments, the three men had gone, and Zillah and Mrs. Goldmark,
left alone, looked at each other.
"Mrs. Goldmark!" said Zillah, after a long silence. "Did you see that
man, yourself, who's supposed to have dropped that platinum solitaire
in your restaurant?"
"Did I see him?" exclaimed Mrs. Goldmark. "Do I see you, Zillah? See
him I did!--though never before, and never since! And ain't I the good
memory for faces--and won't I know him again if he comes my way? Do you
know what?--I ain't never forgotten a face what I've once looked at!
Comes from keeping an eye on customers who looks as if they might have
forgot to bring their moneys with 'em!"
"Well, I hope you'll see this man again," remarked Zillah. "I'd give a
lot to get all the mystery cleared up."
Mrs. Goldmark observed that mysteries were not cleared up in a day, and
presently went away to see that her business was being conducted
properly. She was devoting herself to Zillah in very neighbourly
fashion just then, but she had to keep running into the restaurant
every hour or two to keep an eye on things. And during one of her
absences, later in the early evening of that day, Zillah, alone in the
house, answered a knock at the door, and opening it found Ayscough
outside. His look betokened news, and Zillah led him into the parlour.
"Alone?" asked Ayscough. "Aye, well, I've something to tell you that I
want you to keep to yourself--for a bit, anyway. Those rings, you know,
that the young fellow, Lauriston, says are his, and had been his
mother's?"
"Well?" said Zillah, faintly, and half-conscious of some coming bad
news. "What of them?"
"Our people," continued the detective, "have had some expert
chap--jeweller, or something of that sort, examining those rings, and
comparing them with the rings that are in your tray. And in that tray
there are several rings which have a private mark inside them. Now,
then!--those two rings which Lauriston claims are marked in exactly the
same fashion!"
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
WHAT THE LAMPS SHONE ON
Zillah leaned suddenly back against the table by which she was
standing, and Ayscough, who was narrowly watching the effect of his
news, saw her turn very pale. She stood staring at him during a
moment's silence; then she let a sharp exclamation escape her lips, and
in the same instant her colour came back--heightened from surprise and
indignation.
"Impossible!" she said. "I can't believe it; There may be marks inside
our rings--that's likely enough. But how could those marks correspond
with the marks in his rings?"
"I tell you it is so!" answered Ayscough. "I've seen the marks in
both--with my own eyes. It occurred to one of our bosses this evening
to have all the rings carefully examined by an expert--he got a man
from one of the jeweller's shops in Edgware Road. This chap very soon
pointed out that inside the two rings which young Lauriston says are
his, and come to him from his mother, are certain private
marks--jewellers' marks, this man called 'em--which are absolutely
identical with similar marks which are inside some of the rings in the
tray which was found on this table. That's a fact!--I tell you I've
seen 'em--all! And--you see the significance of it! Of course, our
people are now dead certain that young Lauriston's story is false, and
that he grabbed those two rings out of that tray. See?"
"Are you certain of it--yourself?" demanded Zillah.
Ayscough hesitated and finally shook his head.
"Well, between ourselves, I'm not!" he answered. "I've a feeling from
the first, that the lad's innocent enough. But it's a queer thing--and
it's terribly against him. And--what possible explanation can there be?"
"You say you've seen those marks," said Zillah. "Would you know them
again--on other goods?"
"I should!" replied Ayscough. "I can tell you what they are. There's
the letter M. and then two crosses--one on each side of the letter.
Very small, you know, and worn, too--this man I'm talking of used some
sort of a magnifying glass."
Zillah turned away and went into the shop, which was all in darkness.
Ayscough, waiting, heard the sound of a key being turned, then of a
metallic tinkling; presently the girl came back, carrying a
velvet-lined tray in one hand, and a jeweller's magnifying glass in the
other.
"The rings in that tray you're talking about--the one you took
away--are all very old stock," she remarked. "I've heard my grandfather
say he'd had some of them thirty years or more. Here are some similar
ones--we'll see if they're marked in the same fashion."
Five minutes later, Zillah had laid aside several rings marked in the
way Ayscough had indicated, and she turned from them to him with a look
of alarm.
"I can't understand it!" she exclaimed. "I know that these rings, and
those in that tray at the police-station, are part of old stock that my
grandfather had when he came here. He used to have a shop, years ago,
in the City--I'm not quite sure where, exactly--and this is part of the
stock he brought from it. But, how could Mr. Lauriston's rings bear
those marks? Because, from what I know of the trade, those are private
marks--my grandfather's private marks!"
"Well, just so--and you can imagine what our people are inclined to say
about it," said the detective. "They say now that the two rings which
Lauriston claims never were his nor his mother's, but that he stole
them out of your grandfather's tray. They're fixed on that, now."
"What will they do?" asked Zillah, anxiously. "Is he in danger?"
Ayscough gave her a knowing look.
"Between you and me," he said, lowering his voice to a whisper, "I came
around here privately--on my own hook, you know. I should be sorry if
this really is fixed on the young fellow--there's a mystery, but it may
be cleared up. Now, he's gone off to find somebody who can prove that
those rings really were his mother's. You, no doubt, know where he's
gone?"
"Yes--but I'm not going to tell," said Zillah firmly. "Don't ask me!"
"Quite right--I don't want to know myself," answered Ayscough. "And
you'll probably have an idea when he's coming back? All right--take a
tip from me. Keep him out of the way a bit--stop him from coming into
this district. Let him know all about those marks--and if he can clear
that up, well and good. You understand?--and of course, all this is
between you and me."
"You're very good, Mr. Ayscough," replied Zillah, warmly. "I won't
forget your kindness. And I'm certain this about the marks can be
cleared up--but I don't know how!"
"Well--do as I say," said the detective. "Just give the tip to your
cousin Melky, and to that young Scotch gentleman--let 'em keep
Lauriston out of the way for a few days. In the meantime--this is a
very queer case!--something may happen that'll fix the guilt on
somebody else--conclusively. I've my own ideas and opinions--but we
shall see. Maybe we shall see a lot--and everybody'll be more
astonished than they're thinking for."
With this dark and sinister hint, Ayscough went away, and Zillah took
the rings back to the shop, and locked them up again. And then she sat
down to wait for Mrs. Goldmark--and to think. She had never doubted
Lauriston's story for one moment, and she did not doubt it now. But she
was quick to see the serious significance of what the detective had
just told her and she realized that action must be taken on the lines
he had suggested. And so, having made herself ready for going out, she
excused herself to Mrs. Goldmark when that good lady returned, and
without saying anything to her as to the nature of her errand, hurried
round to Star Street, to find Melky Rubinstein and tell him of the new
development.
Mrs. Flitwick herself opened the door to Zillah and led her into the
narrow passage. But at the mention of Melky she shook her head.
"I ain't set eyes on Mr. Rubinstein not since this morning, miss," said
she. "He went out with that young Scotch gentleman what come here
yesterday asking for Mr. Lauriston, and he's never been in again--not
even to put his nose inside the door. And at twelve o'clock there come
a telegram for him--which it was the second that come this morning. The
first, of course, he got before he went out; the one that come at
noon's awaiting him. No--I ain't seen him all day!"
Zillah's quick wits were instantly at work as soon as she heard of the
telegram.
"Oh, I know all about that wire, Mrs. Flitwick!" she exclaimed. "It's
as much for me as for my cousin. Give it to me--and if Mr. Rubinstein
comes in soon--or when he comes--tell him I've got it, and ask him to
come round to me immediately--it's important."
Mrs. Flitwick produced the telegram at once, and Zillah, repeating her
commands about Melky, hurried away with it. But at the first street
lamp she paused, and tore open the envelope, and pulled out the
message. As she supposed, it was from Lauriston, and had been handed in
at Peebles at eleven o'clock that morning.
"Got necessary information returning at once meet me at King's Cross at
nine-twenty this evening. L."
Zillah looked at her watch. It was then ten minutes to nine. There was
just half an hour before Lauriston's train was due. Without a moment's
hesitation, she turned back along Star Street, hurried into Edgware
Road and hailing the first taxi-cab she saw, bade its driver to get to
the Great Northern as fast as possible. Whatever else happened,
Lauriston must be met and warned.
The taxi-cab made good headway along the Marylebone and Euston Roads,
and the hands of the clock over the entrance to King's Cross had not
yet indicated a quarter past nine when Zillah was set down close by.
She hurried into the station, and to the arrival platform. All the way
along in the cab she had been wondering what to do when she met
Lauriston--not as to what she should tell him, for that was already
settled, but as to what to advise him to do about following Ayscough's
suggestion and keeping out of the way, for awhile. She had already seen
enough of him to know that he was naturally of high spirit and courage,
and that he would hate the very idea of hiding, or of seeming to run
away. Yet, what other course was open if he wished to avoid arrest?
Zillah, during her short business experience had been brought in
contact with the police authorities and their methods more than once,
and she knew that there is nothing the professional detective likes so
much as to follow the obvious--as the easiest and safest. She had been
quick to appreciate all that Ayscough told her--she knew how the police
mind would reason about it: it would be quite enough for it to know
that on the rings which Andy Lauriston said were his there were marks
which were certainly identical with those on her grandfather's
property: now that the police authorities were in possession of that
fact, they would go for Lauriston without demur or hesitation, leaving
all the other mysteries and ramifications of the Multenius affair to be
sorted, or to sort themselves, at leisure. One thing was certain--Andie
Lauriston was in greater danger now than at any moment since Ayscough
found him leaving the shop, and she must save him--against his own
inclinations if need be.
But before the train from the North was due, Zillah was fated to have
yet another experience. She had taken up a position directly beneath a
powerful lamp at the end of the arrival platform, so that Lauriston,
who would be obliged to pass that way, could not fail to see her.
Suddenly turning, to glance at the clock in the roof behind her, she
was aware of a man, young, tall, athletic, deeply bronzed, as from long
contact with the Southern sun, who stood just behind a knot of
loungers, his heavy overcoat and the jacket beneath it thrown open,
feeling in his waistcoat pockets as if for his match-box--an unlighted
cigar protruded from the corner of his rather grim, determined lips.
But it was not at lips, nor at the cigar, nor at the searching fingers
that Zillah looked, after that first comprehensive glance--her eyes
went straight to an object which shone in the full glare of the lamp
above her head. The man wore an old-fashioned, double-breasted fancy
waistcoat, but so low as to reveal a good deal of his shirt-front. And
in that space, beneath his bird's-eye blue tie, loosely knotted in a
bow, Zillah saw a stud, which her experienced eyes knew to be of
platinum, and on it was engraved the same curious device which she had
seen once before that day--on the solitaire exhibited by Melky.
The girl was instantly certain that here was the man who had visited
Mrs. Goldmark's eating-house. Her first instinct was to challenge him
with the fact--but as she half moved towards him, he found his
match-box, struck a match, and began to light his cigar. And just then
came the great engine of the express, panting its way to a halt beside
them, and with it the folk on the platform began to stir, and Zillah
was elbowed aside. Her situation was perplexing--was she to watch the
man and perhaps lose Lauriston in the crowd already passing from the
train, or--
The man was still leisurely busy with his cigar, and Zillah turned and
went a few steps up the platform. She suddenly caught sight of
Lauriston, and running towards him gripped his arm, and drew him to the
lamp. But in that moment of indecision, the man had vanished.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
MR. STUYVESANT GUYLER
Lauriston, surprised beyond a little at seeing Zillah, found his
surprise turned into amazement as she seized his arm and forced him
along the platform, careless of the groups of passengers and the
porters, crowding about the baggage vans.
"What is it?" he demanded. "Has something happened? Where are we going?"
But Zillah held on determinedly, her eyes fixed ahead.
"Quick!" she said, pantingly. "A man I saw just now! He was there--he's
gone--while I looked for you. We must find him! He must have gone this
way. Andie!--look for him! A tall, clean-shaven man in a slouched hat
and a heavy travelling coat--a foreigner of some sort. Oh, look!"
It was the first time she had called Lauriston by his name, and he gave
her arm an involuntary pressure as they hastened along.
"But why?" he asked. "Who is he--what do you want with him? What's it
all about?"
"Oh, find him!" she exclaimed. "You don't know how important it is! If
I lose sight of him now, I'll very likely never see him again. And he
must be found--and stopped--for your sake!"
They had come to the end of the platform, by that time, and Lauriston
looked left and right in search of the man described. Suddenly he
twisted Zillah round.
"Is that he--that fellow talking to another man?" he asked. "See
him--there?"
"Yes!" said Zillah. She saw the man of the platinum stud again, and on
seeing him, stopped dead where she was, holding Lauriston back. The
man, leisurely smoking his cigar, was chatting to another man, who,
from the fact that he was carrying a small suit-case in one hand and a
rug over the other arm, had evidently come in by the just-arrived
express. "Yes!" she continued. "That's the man! And--we've just got to
follow him wherever he goes!"
"What on earth for?" asked Lauriston. "What mystery's this? Who is he?"
At that moment the two men parted, with a cordial handshake; the man of
the suit-case and the rug turned towards the stairs which led to the
underground railway; the other man walked slowly away through the front
of the station in the direction of the Great Northern Hotel. And Zillah
immediately dragged Lauriston after him, keeping a few yards' distance,
but going persistently forward. The man in front crossed the road, and
strode towards the portico of the hotel--and Zillah suddenly made up
her mind.
"We've got to speak to that man!" she said. "Don't ask why, now--you'll
know in a few minutes. Ask him if he'll speak to me?"
Lauriston caught up the stranger as he set foot on the steps leading to
the hotel door. He felt uncomfortable and foolish--but Zillah's tone
left him no option but to obey.
"I beg your pardon," said Lauriston, as politely as possible,
"but--this lady is very anxious to speak to you."
The man turned, glanced at Zillah, who had hurried up, and lifted his
slouched hat with a touch of old-fashioned courtesy. There was a strong
light burning just above them: in its glare all three looked at each
other. The stranger smiled--a little wonderingly.
"Why, sure!" he said in accents that left no doubt of his American
origin. "I'd be most happy. You're not mistaking me for somebody else?"
Zillah was already flushed with embarrassment. Now that she had run her
quarry to earth, and so easily, she scarcely knew what to do with it.
"You'll think this very strange," she said, stammeringly, "but if you
don't mind telling me something?--you see, I saw you just now in the
station, when you were feeling for your match-box, and I noticed that
you wore a platinum stud--with an unusual device on it."
The American laughed--a good-natured, genial laugh--and threw open his
coat. At the same moment he thrust his wrists forward.
"This stud!" he said. "That's so!--it is platinum, and the device is
curious. And the device is right there, too, see--on those solitaire
cuff-studs! But--"
He paused looking at Zillah, whose eyes were now fastened on the
cuff-studs, and who was obviously so astonished as to have lost her
tongue.
"You seemed mighty amazed at my studs!" said the stranger, with another
laugh. "Now, you'll just excuse me if I ask--why?"
Zillah regained her wits with an effort, and became as business-like as
usual.
"Don't, please, think I'm asking idle and purposeless questions," she
said. "Have you been long in London?"
"A few days only," answered the stranger, readily enough.
"Have you read of what's already called the Praed Street Murder in the
papers?" continued Zillah.
"Yes--I read that," the stranger said, his face growing serious. "The
affair of the old man--the pawnbroker with the odd name. Yes!"
"I'm the old man's granddaughter," said Zillah, brusquely. "Now, I'll
tell you why I was upset by seeing your platinum stud. A solitaire
stud, made of platinum, and ornamented with exactly the same device as
yours, was found in our parlour after my grandfather's death--and
another, evidently the fellow to it, was found in an eating-house,
close by. Now, do you understand why I wished to speak to you?"
While Zillah spoke, the American's face had been growing graver and
graver, and when she made an end, he glanced at Lauriston and shook his
head.
"Say!" he said. "That's a very serious matter! You're sure the device
was the same, and the material platinum?"
"I've been reared in the jewellery trade," replied Zillah. "The things
I'm talking of are of platinum--and the device is precisely the same as
that on your stud."
"Well!--that's mighty queer!" remarked the American. "I can't tell you
why it's queer, all in a minute, but I do assure you it's just about
the queerest thing I ever heard of in my life--and I've known a lot of
queerness. Look here!--I'm stopping at this hotel--will you come in
with me, and we'll just get a quiet corner and talk some? Come right
in, then."
He led the way into the hotel, through the hall, and down a corridor
from which several reception rooms opened. Looking into one, a small
smoking lounge, and finding it empty, he ushered them aside. But on the
threshold Zillah paused. Her business instincts were by this time fully
aroused. She felt certain that whoever this stranger might he, he had
nothing to do with the affair in Praed Street, and yet might be able to
throw extraordinary light on it, and she wanted to take a great step
towards clearing it up. She turned to the American.
"Look here!" she said. "I've told you what I'm after, and who I am.
This gentleman is Mr. Andrew Lauriston. Did you read his name in the
paper's account of that inquest?"
The American glanced at Lauriston with some curiosity.
"Sure!" he answered. "The man that found the old gentleman dead."
"Just so," said Zillah. "There are two friends of ours making enquiries
on Mr. Lauriston's behalf at this moment. One of them's my cousin, Mr.
Rubinstein; the other's Mr. Purdie, an old friend of Mr. Lauriston's.
I've an idea where'll they'll be, just now--do you mind if I telephone
them to come here, at once, so that they can hear what you have to tell
us?"
"Not in the least!" assented the American heartily. "I'll be glad to
help in any way I can--I'm interested. Here!--there's a telephone box
right there--you go in now, and call those fellows up and tell 'em to
come right along, quick!"
He and Lauriston waited while Zillah went into the telephone box: she
felt sure that Melky and Purdie would have returned to Praed Street by
that time, and she rang up Mrs. Goldmark at the Pawnshop to enquire.
Within a minute or two she had rejoined Lauriston and the
American--during her absence the stranger had been speaking to a
waiter, and he now led his two guests to a private sitting-room.
"We'll be more private in this apartment," he observed. "No fear of
interruption or being overheard. I've told the waiter man there's two
gentlemen coming along, and they're to be brought in here as soon as
they land. Will they be long?"
"They'll be here within twenty minutes," answered Zillah. "It's very
kind of you to take so much trouble!"