MURDER BY SUGGESTION
Two days later the Marmions left London for Copenhagen, whence they
intended to take a trip among the Baltic Islands, now looking their
brightest and prettiest, then up along the Norwegian Fiords, just before
the tourist rush began, and finally across from Trondjem to Iceland.
They were both excellent sailors, and both disliked crowds, especially
when the said crowds were pleasure-hunting. Moreover, they had now a
particular reason for being alone that they might enjoy together--they,
the only two mortals who could do so--the countless marvels of that new
existence which had now become possible for them. Where, too, could they
do this to more advantage than in the ancient Northland, whose
marvellous past would now be to them even as the present of their own
temporal lives?
The Van Huysmans, and, of course, Lord Lester Leighton, were to remain
in London until the end of the Season. Uncle Ephraim had cabled warm
congratulations and large credits, and so Brenda, very naturally as a
newly-engaged girl and a prospective Countess, wanted all that London
and Ranelagh and Henley, Ascot and Goodwood and Cowes, could give her
before her devoted lover's yacht carried them off to the Mediterranean.
Later in the autumn they were all to go over to the States to spend the
winter in Washington and New York, whence they were to return to London
for the wedding in May: surely as pleasant a programme--I fear that Miss
Brenda spelt it "program"--as could be desired even by a fair maiden
upon whom the kindly Fates had already showered their choicest gifts.
The only bitter drop in the family cup of content was the fact that
Professor van Huysman was as far away as ever from the exposure of the
fallacy which, as he was immovably convinced, those abominable
demonstrations _must_ contain.
After due consultation between Nicol Hendry and his colleagues of
France, Germany, and Russia, it was decided to follow up the clues which
he had so mysteriously received. The others would, of course, have been
very glad to know where and how he got them, but at the outset he had
put them on their honour not to ask, and so professional etiquette made
it impossible for them to do anything but accept his assurance that he
had received them from a source which was quite beyond reproach. Once
they accepted the situation, they got to work with a quiet thoroughness
which resulted in the spreading of an invisible but unbreakable net
round the footsteps of every one of the suspects from the great
Oscarovitch himself to the humble seller of curios in Candler's Court,
and his still humbler friends Pent-Ah and Neb-Anat, who were known to
the few who knew them as Mr and Mrs Pentana, renovators, and, possibly
manufacturers, of ancient gems and relics.
But to one pair of eyes, at least, the police-net was as plainly visible
as a spider's web hanging in the sunlight.
Within three days Phadrig received a visit from a shabbily-dressed but
well-to-do Jew trader with whom he had done business before, who wanted
to know if he could put him in the way of getting some really good old
Egyptian gems and jewellery to show on approval to a wealthy patron who
wanted to give his daughter a set of rare and uncommon ornaments on her
wedding day. It was by this means, by acting as an intermediary between
those who had something to sell and those who wished to buy, that
Phadrig was supposed to make his modest living. His knowledge of Eastern
antiquities was admittedly great, though, of course, no one knew how
great, and he had often been asked why, instead of living in such a
wretched way, he did not start a little business for himself; to which
he always replied that he had no capital, and that he preferred
independence, however poor, to the cares and ties of regular trading.
When the Jew had stated his business, Phadrig looked at him with sleepy
eyes with a strange expression in them which, for some reason or other,
held his visitor's usually shifty gaze fixed, and said in a slow, gentle
voice:
"It is very kind of you, Mr Josephus, to bring me all these nice little
commissions. They are of much benefit to a poor student of antiquities
like myself, although I do not like trading in things that I love.
Still, one must live if one would study. Now, I had a gem sent to me the
other day which I would dearly love to possess, but, alas! as well might
I long for the Koh-i-Noor itself. Moreover, it is already promised--nay,
as good as sold. But what have the poor to do with such splendours save
to help the rich to buy them!"
The Jew's prominent eyes shone with an inward light at the mention of
the gem, and he said in a coaxing voice:
"My dear Phadrig, we have always been friends for ever so long, and you
say I've been a good customer to you. Might I have a look at that gem?
You know how fond I am of the pretty things. Have you got it here?"
"Yes, and you shall see it with pleasure, my good Josephus," replied
Phadrig, well knowing the thought that was in his mind when he asked if
he had the gem there in that shabby, unprotected room.
He went to the old oak secretaire, unlocked a cupboard at the side, and
then a drawer within it, followed in every motion by the gleaming eyes
of the Jew, and took from it a leather parcel. He undid this and
produced a box, about four inches long and three wide, of plain black
polished wood. It looked solid, but Phadrig made a swift motion with his
fingers, and one half of it slid off the other. He held it towards his
visitor, and said:
"What do you think of that as a specimen of ancient art, Mr Josephus?"
The Jew looked. The inside of the box seemed filled with green light
tinted with yellow. Out of the midst of it began to shine a deeper green
light which crystallised into the most glorious emerald that he had ever
even dreamt of. It was fully an inch square, flawless, and of perfect
colour. The yellow sheen came from a framework of heavy,
exquisitely-wrought gold. Phadrig took it out and held it before him,
and the green light seemed to radiate through the dull atmosphere of the
room. The Jew stared at it with bulging eyes and trembling under-lip,
and his hands went out towards it with a gesture which seemed like
worship.
"God of Israel," he gasped, "was anything so splendid ever seen before!
Mr Phadrig, is it--is it real?"
"Real?" echoed the Egyptian scornfully. "Did you ever see light like
that come out of a sham stone? You should know more about gems than
that, Mr Josephus."
"Ah yes, yes, of course. It is glorious; it is worthy to shine on the
breastplate of the High Priest--and what a price it must be! Is it
allowed to ask the name of the great millionaire for whom it is
destined?"
"Yes. It will in a few hours be the property of Prince Oscar
Oscarovitch."
As Phadrig spoke he hid the gem in his hand. His voice was so changed
that the Jew looked up at him. His eyes were wide open now, and glowing
with a fire that made them look almost dull red. They seemed to see
right through his eyeballs and look into his brain. Josephus started as
though he had been struck. He tried to turn his head away, but the
terrible eyes held him. His fat, greasy, olive face grew grey and dry,
and his head shook from side to side.
"What is the matter, my dear Mr Josephus?" asked Phadrig, in slow, stern
tones. "The mention of the Prince seems to have affected your nerves.
Are you acquainted with His Highness?"
"Me? I? Why, how should I know a great man like the noble Prince? No,
no; of course I know him as a very grand and great gentleman, but that
is all, really all, my dear Phadrig."
"Yes, yes, of course," said the Egyptian, once more in his gentle voice;
"would not be likely, would it? Now, if you would like to look at the
gem more closely, go and sit down there by the light and take it in your
hand. You will see that it is engraved with hieroglyphics. They say that
this jewel was once the property of Rameses the Great of Egypt, and was
given by him to his daughter Nitocris."
This information did not interest the Jew in the slightest, since he had
never heard the names in his life; but the delight and honour of holding
such a glorious gem in his hand even for a few minutes was ecstasy to
him. He sat down, and held out his fat, trembling hand greedily. With a
smile of contempt Phadrig placed the jewel in it, and said:
"Examine it closely, my friend. It is well worth it, and it may be long
before you see another like it."
"Like--like _it_, like _this_! By the beard of Father
Moses, I should think not--I should think--I should--oh,
beautiful--glor--glorious--splendid--did--splen--oh, what a
light--li--light--li--oh----!"
As each of the disjointed syllables came from his shaking lips he
mumbled more and more, and his head sank lower towards the priceless
thing in his palm. As he gazed, the stone grew round and bigger and
brighter, till it seemed like a great green-blazing eye glaring into the
utmost depths of his being. Then the light suddenly went out, his head
fell on his breast, and as his hand sank, Phadrig caught it and took
away the jewel. Then he put the Jew back in the chair, and standing in
front of him began in a slow, penetrating voice:
"Isaac Josephus, thou hast gazed upon the Horus Stone, and he who doeth
that may not answer the questions of an Adept with lies save at the
price of his life. Now answer me truly, or to-morrow morning those of
thine household shall find thee dead in thy bed."
Wide open the eyes of the hypnotised man stared at him, and the loose
lips quivered, but these were the only signs of life.
"Thou art not only a dealer in gems and curious things: thou art also a
spy of the police; is not that so?"
"Yes."
"Believing that I am a very poor man, yet knowing that I dealt with
objects of value, they thought me to be one who receives such things
from thieves to sell them again, since they could not. Is that so?"
"Yes."
"And, believing this, and knowing thee to have dealings with me, they
bribed thee to come here as my friend and fellow-dealer and spy upon my
actions, so that they might have evidence against me and cast me into
prison. Is that so?"
"Yes."
"Late on the last night but one thou didst go to the house of Nicol
Hendry, who is no common catcher of thieves, but a spy of nations whose
business is with the great ones of the earth. Tell me: whom did thy
business with him concern?"
"Prince Oscarovitch and yourself."
"What were his orders?"
"To watch you both, especially you, and find out when you went to him,
and why you were sometimes a poor devil in a miserable hole like this,
and sometimes a swell going to swagger places with him."
"How were you going to do this?"
"I know your servant or chum, Mr Pentana. I've lent him money: and Peter
Petroff, the Prince's particular servant, gambles like a lord, and he
owes me and a friend of mine a lot of money. We were going to work
through them."
"It is enough; and well for you that you have answered truthfully. Now
tell me: do you know how to use a revolver?"
"Never fired a shot in my life."
Phadrig went to the secretaire and took a common, cheap revolver,
identical with thousands of others which our criminally careless
Government allows to be bought every day without the production of a
licence--just a hooligan's weapon, in fact--went back and put it into
the Jew's hand. He raised the hand several times, and pointed the muzzle
to the temple, keeping the forefinger on the trigger. At length he let
go the wrist, and said in a gentle, persuading tone:
"That is the way to handle a revolver when you are going to shoot, my
dear Josephus. Now, let me see if you can do it by yourself."
With mechanical precision the Jew's arm went up until the muzzle touched
his temple. Again and again he did the same thing at Phadrig's bidding,
till at length he said rather more peremptorily:
"Now pull the trigger!"
The finger tightened and the hammer clicked. Five times more was the
operation repeated, and then Phadrig gently took the revolver and laid
the hand down. He went to the secretaire and loaded the six chambers,
cocked the weapon and put it into the right hand side-pocket of the
lounge jacket which Josephus was wearing, and said deliberately:
"Now remember, my dear Josephus: you will go straight back to your
office in Waterloo Road and let yourself in with your key. In your
private room you will see a man who wants to rob you of some valuable
papers. You will be ruined if he gets them, so you must take your pistol
out of your pocket and shoot him. Do you quite understand me?"
"Yes; I am to shoot him."
"That is right. Now, if you do not go he will have them before you get
there. Get up and we will say good-night. You must not put your hand in
your pocket until you see the man who wants to rob you. Good-night.
There is your hat."
"Good-night!"
Mr Isaac Josephus put on his hat and walked away to his death with the
motions of a mechanical doll.