A LEAP IN THE DARK
With the morning Theydon brought a mature and impartial judgment to bear
on his perplexities. The average man, if asked to form an opinion on any
difficult point, will probably arrive at a saner decision during the
first pipe after breakfast than at any other given hour of the day.
Excellent physiological reasons account for this truism. The sound mind
in a sound body is then working under the most favorable conditions.
It is free from the strain of affairs. The cold, clear morning light
divests problems of the undue importance, or, it may be, the glamour of
novelty, which they possessed overnight. At any rate, Frank Theydon,
clenching a pipe between his teeth, and gazing thoughtfully through an
open window at the trees in Innesmore Gardens, reviewed yesterday's
happenings calmly and critically, and arrived at the settled conviction
that his proper course was to visit Scotland Yard and make known to the
authorities the one vital fact he had withheld from their ken thus far.
It was not for him to assess the significance of Mr. Forbes's desire to
remain in the background. If the millionaire's excuse, or explanation,
of his failure to communicate at once with the Criminal Investigation
Department was a sufficiently valid one, Scotland Yard would be
satisfied and might agree to keep his name out of the inquiry.
On the other hand, he, Theydon, might be balking the course of justice
by holding his tongue. There was yet a third possibility, one fraught
with personal discredit. Mr. Forbes himself might realize that a policy
of candor offered the only dignified course.
Suppose he was minded to tell the detectives that he was the man who
visited Mrs. Lester shortly before midnight, what would Winter and
Furneaux think of the young gentleman who had actually dined with Forbes
before they took him into their confidence--who heard with such
righteous indignation how Mrs. Lester met her death--yet brazenly
concealed the fact that he had just left the house of one whom they were
so anxious to meet and question?
Of course, the radiant vision of Evelyn Forbes intruded on this
well-considered and unemotional analysis; but Theydon resolutely shook
his head.
"No, by Jove!" he communed. "You mustn't make an ass of yourself, my
boy, because a pretty girl was gracious for an hour or so. Be honest
with yourself, old chap! If there were no Evelyn, or if Evelyn were
harelipped and squinted, you wouldn't hesitate a second--now, would
you?"
Yet he had given a promise. How reconcile an immediate call on Scotland
Yard with the guarantee of secrecy demanded by Forbes? Well, he must put
himself right with Forbes without delay--tell him straightforwardly that
the bond could not hold. Theydon was no lawyer, but he was assured that
an agreement founded on positive wrong was not tenable, legally or
morally.
He would be adamant with Forbes, and decline to countenance any plea in
support of continued silence. If Forbes's demand was reasonable,
Scotland Yard would grant it. If justice compelled Forbes to come out
into the open, no private citizen should attempt to defeat the ends of
justice.
"So that settles it," announced Theydon firmly if not cheerfully. "I'll
ring up Forbes, and get the thing over and done with. I'll never see his
daughter again, I suppose, but that can't be helped. 'Tis better to have
seen and lost than never to have seen at all."
He turned from the window, walked to the fireplace, tapped his pipe
firmly on the grate, and was about to go into the hall and call up the
telephone exchange, when the door-bell rang. He was aware of a muffled
conversation between Bates and a visitor. Then the valet appeared,
obviously ill at ease.
"If you please, sir," he announced, "a lady, a Miss Beale, of Oxford,
who says she is Mrs. Lester's aunt, wishes to see you."
Theydon was immensely surprised, as well he might be. But there was only
one thing to be done.
"Show her in," he said.
Miss Beale entered. She was slight of figure, middle-aged and
gray-haired. The wanness of her thin features was accentuated by an
attire of deep mourning, but the pallor in her cheeks fled for an
instant when she set eyes on Theydon.
"Pray forgive the intrusion," she faltered. "I--I expected to meet an
older man."
It was a curious utterance, and Theydon tried to relieve her evident
nervousness by being mildly humorous.
"I hope to correct my juvenile appearance in course of time," he said,
smiling. "Meanwhile, won't you be seated? You are not quite unknown to
me, Miss Beale. That is--I heard of you last night from the Scotland
Yard people."
She sat down at once, but seemed to be at a loss for words. Her lips
trembled, and Theydon thought she was going to cry.
"Have you traveled from Oxford this morning?" he said, simulating a
courteous nonchalance he was far from feeling. "If so, you must have
started from home at an ungodly hour. Let me have some breakfast
prepared for you."
"No--no," she stammered.
"Well, a cup of tea, then? Come, now, no woman ever refuses a cup of
tea."
"You are very kind."
He rang the bell.
"I would not have ventured to call on you if I had not seen your name in
the newspaper," she went on.
Miss Beale certainly had the knack of saying unexpected things. It was
nothing new that Theydon should find his own name in print, but on this
occasion he could not choose but associate the distinction with the
crime in No. 17; that he should be mentioned in connection with it was
neither anticipated nor pleasing. At the same time he realized the
astounding fact that he had not even glanced at a newspaper during
twenty-four hours.
"What in the world have the newspapers to say about me?" he cried.
"It--it said--that Mr. Francis Berrold Theydon, the well-known author,
lived in No. 18, the flat exactly opposite that which my unhappy niece
occupied. I--I have read some of your books, Mr. Theydon, and I pictured
you quite a serious-looking person of my own age."
He laughed. Bates entered, and was almost shocked at finding his master
in such lively mood.
"Oh, this lady has traveled from Oxford this morning; a cup of tea and
some nice toast, please, Bates," said Theydon. Then when the two were
alone together again, he brushed aside the question of his age as
irrelevant.
"I assure you that since this time yesterday I have lost some of the
careless buoyancy of youth," he said. "I had not the honor of Mrs.
Lester's acquaintance, but I knew her well by sight, and I received the
shock of my life last evening when I heard of her terrible end. It is an
extraordinary thing, seeing that we were such close neighbors, but I
believe you got the news long before I did, because I left home early
and heard nothing of what had happened till my man met me at Waterloo in
the evening."
"You have seen the--the detectives in the meantime?"
"Yes."
"Then you will be able to tell me something definite. I have promised to
call at Scotland Yard at eleven o'clock, and the only scraps of
intelligence I have gathered are those in the papers. I would have come
to London last night, but was afraid to travel, lest I should faint in
the train. Moreover, some one in London promised to send a detective to
see me. He came, but could give no information. Indeed, he wanted to
learn certain things from me. So, after a weary night, I caught the
first train, and it occurred to me, as you lived so near, that you might
be kind enough to--to--"
The long speech was too much for her, and her lips quivered pitifully a
second time.
"I fully understand," said Theydon sympathetically. "Now, I'm positive
you have eaten hardly anything today. Won't you let me order an egg?"
"No, please. I'll be glad of the tea, but I cannot make a meal--yet. Is
it true that my niece was absolutely alone in her flat on Monday night?"
Seeing that Miss Beale was consumed with anxiety to hear an intelligible
version of the tragedy, Theydon at once recited all, or nearly all, that
was known to him. The only points he suppressed were those with
reference to the gray car and the ivory skull. The lady listened
attentively and with more self-control than he gave her credit for.
Bates came in with a laden tray, on which a boiled egg appeared. Mrs.
Bates had used her discretion, and decided that any one who had set out
from Oxford so early in the day must be in need of more solid
refreshment than tea and toast. Thus cozened, as it were, into eating,
Miss Beale tackled the egg, and Theydon was glad to note that she made a
fairly good meal, being probably unaware of her hunger until the means
of sating it presented itself.
But she missed no word of his story, and when he made an end, put some
shrewd questions.
"I take it," she said, "that the strange gentleman who visited my niece
on Monday night posted the very letter which I received by the second
delivery yesterday?"
"That is what the police believe," replied Theydon.
"Then it would seem that she resolved to come to me at Iffley as the
result of something he told her?"
"Why do you think that?"
"Because I heard from her only last Saturday, and she not only said
nothing about coming to Oxfordshire, but asked me to arrange to spend a
fortnight in London before we both went to Cornwall for the Summer."
"Ah! That is rather important, I should imagine," said Theydon
thoughtfully.
"It is odd, too, that you and the detectives should have noticed the
smell of a joss stick in the flat," went on Miss Beale. "Edith--my
niece, you know--could not bear the smell of joss sticks. They reminded
her of Shanghai, where she lost her husband."
Theydon looked more startled than such a seemingly simple statement
warranted. He had realized already that the ivory skull was the work of
an Oriental artist, and the mention of Shanghai brought that sinister
symbol very vividly to his mind's eye.
"Mrs. Lester had lived in China, then?" he said.
"Yes. She was out there nearly six years. Her husband died suddenly last
October--he was poisoned, she firmly believed--and, of course, she came
home at once."
"What was Mr. Lester's business, or profession?"
"He was a barrister. I do not mean that he practised in the Consular
courts. He was making his way in England, but was offered some sort of
appointment in Shanghai. The post was so lucrative that he relinquished
a growing connection at the bar. I have never really understood what he
did. I fancy he had to report on commercial matters to some firm of
bankers in London, but he supplied very little positive information
before Edith and he sailed. Indeed, I took it that his mission was
highly confidential, and about that time there was a lot in the
newspapers about rival negotiators for a big Chinese loan, so I formed
the opinion that he was sent out in connection with something of the
sort. Neither he nor Edith meant to remain long in the Far East. At
first their letters always spoke of an early return. Then, when the
years dragged on, and I asked for definite news of their homecoming,
Edith said that Arthur could not get away until the country's political
affairs were in a more settled state. Finally came a cablegram from
Edith: 'Arthur dead; sailing immediately,' and my niece was with me
within a few weeks. The supposed cause of her husband's death was some
virulent type of fever, but, as I said, Edith was convinced that he had
been poisoned."
"Why?"
"That I never understood. She never willingly talked about Shanghai, or
her life there. Indeed, she was always most anxious that no one should
know she had ever lived in China. Yet she had plenty of friends out
there. I gathered that Arthur had left her well provided for
financially, and they were a most devoted couple. Edith was the only
relative I possessed. It is very dreadful, Mr. Theydon, that she should
be taken from me in such a way."
Her hearer was almost thankful that she yielded to the inevitable rush
of emotion. It gave him time to collect his wits, which had lost their
poise when that wicked-looking little skull was, so to speak, thrust
forcibly into his recollection.
"In a word," he said, at last, "you are Mrs. Lester's next-of-kin and
probably her heiress?"
"Yes, I suppose so, though I was not thinking of that," came the tearful
answer.
"Yet the relationship entails certain responsibilities," said Theydon
firmly. "You should be legally represented at the inquest. Are your
affairs in the hands of any firm of solicitors?"
"Yes--at Oxford. I contrived to call at their office yesterday and they
recommended me to consult these people," and Miss Beale produced a card
from a handbag. Theydon read the name and address of a well-known West
End firm.
"Good," he said. "I recommend you to go there at once. By the way, was
any one looking after Mrs. Lester's interests? Surely she had dealings
with a bank or an agency?"
"Y--yes. I do happen to know the source from which her income came.
She--made a secret of it--in a measure."
"Pray don't tell me anything of that sort. Your legal adviser might not
approve."
"But what does it matter now? Poor Edith is dead. Her affairs cannot
help being dragged into the light of day. She had some railway shares
and bonds, some of which were left to her by her father, and others
which came under a marriage settlement, but the greater part of her
revenue was derived from a monthly payment made by the bank of which Mr.
James Creighton Forbes is the head."
Miss Beale naturally misinterpreted the blank stare with which Theydon
received this remarkable statement.
"I don't see why any one should wish to conceal a simple matter of
business like that," she said nervously. "May I explain that I have an
impression, not founded on anything quite tangible, that Mr. Forbes was
largely interested in the syndicate which sent Arthur Lester to China,
so it is very likely that the payment of an annuity, or pension, to
Arthur's widow would be left in his care. I do not know. I am only
guessing. But that matter, and others, can hardly fail to be cleared up
by the police inquiry."
Theydon recovered his self-control as rapidly as he had lost it. He
glanced at the clock--10:15. Within half an hour, or less, Miss Beale
would be on her way to Scotland Yard. He must act promptly and
decisively, or he would find himself in a distinctly unfavorable
position in his relations with the Criminal Investigation Department.
"I happen to be acquainted with Mr. Forbes," he said, striving
desperately to appear cool and methodical when his brain was seething.
"Would you mind if I just rang him up on the telephone? A few words now
might enlighten us materially."
"O, you are most helpful," said the lady, blushing again with timid
gratitude. "I am so glad I summoned up courage to call on you. I was
terrified at the idea of going to the Police Headquarters, but I shall
not mind it at all now."
Soon Theydon was asking for "00400, Bank." He had left the door of his
sitting room open purposely. No matter what the outcome, he no longer
dared keep the compact of silence into which he had entered with Forbes.
But the millionaire was not at his office. In response to a very
determined request for a word with some one in authority, "on a matter
of real urgency," the clerk who had answered the call brought "Mr.
Forbes's secretary," a Mr. Macdonald, to the telephone.
"It is important, vitally important, that I should speak with Mr. Forbes
within the next few minutes," said Theydon, after giving his name and
address. "Do you expect him to arrive soon? Or shall I try and reach him
at Fortescue Square?"
"Mr. Forbes will not be here till midday," came a voice with a
pronounced Scottish intonation. "I'm doubtful, too, if ye'll catch him
at home. Can I give him a message?"
"Do you know where he is?"
"Well, I cannot say."
"But do you know?"
"I'll be glad to give him a message."
"It will be too late, then. Please understand, Mr. Macdonald, that I am
making this call at Mr. Forbes's express wish. It is, as I have said,
vitally important that I should get in touch with him without delay."
Scottish caution was not to be overcome by an appeal of that sort.
"I cannot go beyond what I have said," was the reply. "If you like to
ask at his house--"
"O, ring off!" cried Theydon, who pictured the secretary as a lanky
hollow-cheeked Scot, a model of discretion and trustworthiness, no
doubt, but utterly unequal to a crisis demanding some measure of
self-confident initiative. In reality, Mr. Macdonald was short and
stout, and quite a jovial little man.
After an exasperating delay, he got into communication with the Forbes
mansion in Fortescue Square.
"I'm Mr. Frank Theydon," he said, striving to speak unconcernedly. "Is
Mr. Forbes in?"
"No, sir."
"Is that you, Tomlinson?"
"Yes, sir."
"Can you tell me where I can find Mr. Forbes at once?"
"Isn't he at his office, sir?"
"No. He will not be there till 12 o'clock."
A pause of indecision on Tomlinson's part. Then, a possible solution of
the difficulty.
"Would you care to have a word with Miss Evelyn, sir?"
"O, yes, yes."
Theydon blurted out this emphatic acceptance of the butler's suggestion
without a thought as to its possible consequences. He was racking his
brain in a frenzy of uncertainty as to how he should frame his words
when he heard quite clearly a woman's footsteps on the parquet flooring,
and caught Evelyn Forbes's voice saying to Tomlinson: "How fortunate!
Mr. Theydon is the very person I wished to speak to, but I simply dared
not ring him up."
The slight incident only provided Theydon with a new source of
wonderment. Why should Evelyn Forbes want speech with him at that early
hour? Perhaps she would explain. He could only hope so, and trust to
luck in the choice of his own phrases.
"That you, Mr. Theydon?" came the girl's voice, sweet in its cadence yet
ominously eager. "How nice of you to anticipate my unspoken thought! I
have been horribly anxious ever since I read of that awful affair at
Innesmore Mansions. That poor lady's flat is next door to yours, is it
not?"
"Yes, but--"
"O, you cannot choke off a woman's curiosity quite so easily. You see, I
happen to know that Mrs. Lester's sad death affects my father in some
way, and I realize now that you two were just on pins and needles to get
rid of me last night so that you might talk freely."
"Miss Forbes, I assure you--"
"Wait till I've finished, and you will not be under the necessity of
telling me any polite fibs. You men are all alike. You think the giddy
feminine brain is not fitted to cope with mysteries, and that is where
you are utterly mistaken. A woman's intuition often peers deeper than a
man's logic. I--"
"Do forgive me," broke in Theydon despairingly, "but I am really most
anxious to know how and where I can get a word with your father. I would
not be so rude as to interrupt you if I hadn't the best of excuses. Tell
me where to find him now, and I promise to give you a call immediately
afterward."
"He's at the Home Office."
"At the Home Office!"
Some hint of utter bewilderment in Theydon's tone must have reached the
girl's alert ear.
"Ah! _Touche!_" she cried. "Now will you be good and tell me why Dad
should receive a little ivory skull by this morning's post?"
Theydon knew that he paled. His very scalp tingled with an apprehension
of some shadowy yet none the less affrighting evil. But he schooled
himself to say, with a semblance of calm interest:
"What exactly do you mean, Miss Forbes?"
She laughed lightly. Theydon was so flurried that he did not realize the
possibility of Evelyn Forbes being as quick to mask her real feelings as
he himself was.
"Dad and I make a point of breakfasting together at nine o'clock every
morning," she said. "We were talking about you, and he told me of the
dreadful thing that happened to Mrs. Lester. I was reading the account
of the tragedy in a newspaper, when I happened to glance at him. He was
going through his letters, and I was just a trifle curious to know what
was in a flat box which came by registered post. He opened it carelessly
and something fell out and rolled across the table. I picked it up and
saw that it was a small piece of ivory, carved with extraordinary skill
to represent a skull. Indeed, it was so clever as to be decidedly
repulsive. I was going to say something when I saw that the letter which
was in the same box had alarmed him so greatly that, for a second or
two, I thought he would faint. But he can be very strong and stern at
times, and he recovered himself instantly, was quite vexed with me
because I had examined the ivory skull, and forbade my going out until
he had returned from the Home Office. Tomlinson and the other men have
orders not to admit any one to the house, no matter on what pretext, and
I'm sure the letter and its nasty little token are bound up in some way
with Mrs. Lester's death. Won't you let me into the secret? I shan't
scream or do anything foolish, but I do think I am entitled to know what
you know if it affects my father."
A sudden change in the girl's voice warned Theydon of a restraint of
which he had been unconscious hitherto. He tried to temporize, to
whittle away her fears. That was a duty he owed to Forbes, who was
clearly resolved not to take his daughter into his confidence--for the
present, at any rate.
"I really fail to see why you should assume some connection between the
crime which was committed here on Monday night and the arrival of a
somewhat singular package at your house this morning," he said
reassuringly.
"Like every other woman, I jump at conclusions," she answered. "Why
should this crime, in particular, have worried my father? Unfortunately,
the newspapers are full of such horrid things, yet he hardly ever pays
them any attention. No, Mr. Theydon, I am not mistaken. He either knew
Mrs. Lester, and was shocked at her death, or saw in it some personal
menace. Then comes the letter, with its obvious threat, and I am ordered
to remain at home, under a strong guard, while he hurries off to
Whitehall. You have met my father, Mr. Theydon. Do you regard him as the
sort of man who would rush off in a panic to consult the Home Secretary
without very grave and weighty reasons?"
"But you can hardly be certain that a wretched crime in this
comparatively insignificant quarter of London supplies the actual motive
of Mr. Forbes's action," urged Theydon.
The girl stamped an impatient foot. He heard it distinctly.
"Of course I am certain," she cried. "Why won't you be candid? You know
I am right--I can tell it from your voice, and your guarded way of
talking--"
An inspiration came to Theydon's relief in that instant.
"Pardon the interruption," he said, "but I must point out that both of
us are acting unwisely in discussing such matters over the telephone.
Really, neither must say another word, except this--when I have found
your father I'll ask his permission to come and see you. Perhaps we
three can arrange to meet somewhere for luncheon. That is absolutely the
farthest limit to which I dare go at this moment."
"O, very well!"
The receiver was hung up in a temper, and the prompt ring-off jarred
disagreeably in Theydon's ear. If he was puzzled before, he was
thoroughly at sea now. But he took a bold course, and cared not a jot
whether or not it was a prudent one.
The mere sound of Evelyn Forbes's voice had steeled his heart and
conscience against the dictates of common sense. Let the detectives
think what they might, the girl's father must be allowed to carry
through his plans without let or hindrance.
"Miss Beale," said Theydon, gazing fixedly into the sorrow-laden eyes of
the quiet little lady whom he found seated where he had left her, "I'm
going to tell you something very important, very serious, something so
far-reaching and momentous that neither you nor I can measure its
effect. You heard the conversation on the telephone?"
"I heard what you were saying, but could not understand much of it,"
said his visitor in a scared way.
"I have been trying to communicate with Mr. Forbes, but his daughter
tells me that the murder of your niece seems to have affected him in a
manner which is incomprehensible to her, and even more so to me, though
I am acquainted with facts which her father and I have purposely kept
from her knowledge. Mr. Forbes has gone hurriedly to the Home Office. I
suppose you know what that means? He is about to give the Home Secretary
certain information, and it is not for you or me to interfere with his
discretion. Now, if you tell the Scotland Yard people what you have told
me, namely, that Mr. Forbes was the intermediary through whom Mrs.
Lester received the greater part of her income, he will be brought
prominently into the inquiry. You see that, don't you?"
"Yes. I suppose that something of the sort must happen."
"Well, I want you to suppress that vital fact until we know more about
this affair. It will not be for long. Each of us must tell our story
without reservation at some future date--whether this afternoon, or
tomorrow, or a week hence, I cannot say now. But I do ask you to keep
your knowledge to yourself until I have had an opportunity of consulting
Mr. Forbes. I undertake to tell you the exact position of matters
without delay, and I accept all responsibility for my present advice."
"I know little of the world, Mr. Theydon," said Miss Beale, rising, and
beginning to draw on her gloves, "but I shall be very greatly surprised
if you are advising me to act otherwise than honorably. I shall
certainly not utter a word about Mr. Forbes at Scotland Yard. When all
is said and done, my statement to you was largely guesswork. You must
remember that I have never seen Mr. Forbes, nor hardly ever heard his
name except in connection with public matters in the Press. O, yes. I
make that promise readily. I trust you implicitly!"