PIECING THE PUZZLE
Palermo was in a perfect ferment. Not since the last revolution had
people seen such a pitched battle in the streets, for Macpherson and his
myrmidons had used no gentle means to pacify Gros Jean and the Turks,
whilst the crew of the _Belles Soeurs_ would not be in a fit state to
go to sea for many days.
An excited mob of people surrounded the hotel when Brett and Talbot
arrived with their wounded prisoner. Fortunately the Chief of Police
came in person to ascertain the cause of all this turmoil. The first
alarmist report that reached his ears made out that a species of
international warfare had broken out in the harbour.
He told his subordinates to clear away the crowd, and explanations by
Brett and Winter soon demonstrated the wisdom of an official
_communique_ to the Press that the row on the pier was merely the
outcome of a quarrel between some intoxicated sailors.
The Chief of the Police politely offered to place detectives at the
disposal of the Englishmen for the proper custody of their captive.
Brett thanked him, but declined the proffered assistance, having decided
to warn Winter not to interfere.
"The only prisoner of interest," he explained, "received such severe
injuries during a struggle which he brought on himself that he will be
quite unable to be moved for several days. His right arm is broken, and
his face has been reduced to a pulp. There is a stout Frenchman named
Beaucaire and three Turks who accompanied him, whom I recommend to your
safe custody. We bring no charge against them, but it would be as well
to keep them under lock and key until we have left Palermo."
"Do you mean the innkeeper Gros Jean and the Turks who accompanied him
from Messina by train to-day?"
"Yes."
"You need not trouble about them. They have all been carried to the
hospital."
"What!" exclaimed Brett. "How did they come to be injured?"
"I cannot tell you exactly, but they, together with some sailors from
the fishing-smack, were knocked senseless by the crew of the steam yacht
when the young lady was shot."
"What young lady?" demanded Brett and Talbot together. This conversation
had taken place in the entrance of the hotel, whilst Dubois was being
carried to a bedroom by the servants.
"Did you not know?" inquired the official gravely. "The young lady was
of your company who stayed here with you--the niece of milord, the
elderly gentleman."
"Edith! Shot, did you say!" cried her brother, leaning against the
barrister for support.
"Yes, but not seriously, I hope. She has been brought here. The doctors
are now with her in her room."
"Who shot her?" demanded Brett savagely.
"The person who was flung into the harbour by the other milord. It is
stated that she is a woman, but really at this moment I have not heard
all the facts. She was carried to the hospital with the others."
The two waited to hear no more. They ran upstairs, and Talbot would have
fallen twice had not Brett supported him. Reaching the corridor which
contained their apartments they found Sir Hubert, Lord Fairholme,
Daubeney, and Mr. Winter standing silently, a sorrowful, motionless
group, outside Edith's room.
"What terrible thing has happened?" Brett asked them. "Surely Miss
Talbot cannot be seriously hurt?"
The only one who could answer was Mr. Winter.
"We hope not, sir," he said, "but the doctors will be here in a moment.
They are extracting the bullet now."
Before the bewildered barrister could frame another question the door of
Edith's room opened noiselessly, and two Italian gentlemen emerged. One
of them spoke English well. He addressed himself to Sir Hubert
Fitzjames.
"I am glad to tell you," he said cheerfully, "that the young lady's
wound is not at all dangerous. It looks worse than it is. Most
fortunately, the bullet first struck a large bone button on her coat.
This, combined with the thick woollen material, and some small amount of
padding placed beneath the collar by the maker, offered such resistance
that the bullet lodged itself against the collar bone without breaking
it. Consequently, although the wound has a nasty appearance, it is not
at all serious. The young lady herself makes light of it. Indeed, she
thought that an anaesthetic was unnecessary, but of course we
administered one prior to extraction, and she is now resting quietly."
"You are not deceiving us, doctor? Tell us the truth, for Heaven's
sake." It was Fairholme's voice, broken and hollow, that so fiercely
uttered these words.
The kindly doctor turned and placed his hand upon the earl's shoulder.
"I would not dream of such a thing," he answered. "It would be cruel to
raise false hopes if the young lady's condition were really dangerous.
Believe me, there is nothing to fear. With the careful attention she
will receive, she will be well able to travel within a week, though, of
course, the wound will not be fully healed until later."
Sir Hubert managed to stammer--
"When can we see her?"
"As soon as she wakes from sleep. We have given her a small draught, you
understand, to secure complete rest after the shock of the operation. My
colleague and I will return here at eight o'clock, and then there will
probably be no reason why you should not speak to her. Meanwhile be
confident; there is absolutely no cause for alarm."
With this reassuring statement they had perforce to rest content. The
medical men were about to take their departure when Brett intervened.
"There is yet another patient who requires your attention, gentlemen,"
he said. "You will find him in room No. 41. He is suffering from a
broken arm and other injuries."
The doctors hurried off, and it was not long before they were able to
make a satisfactory report concerning Dubois.
"The fracture of the ulna is a simple one," said the spokesman, "and
will become all right in the ordinary course of nature. But what
happened to the man's face?"
"He settled a slight dispute with my friend here," said Brett,
indicating Talbot, who was leaning with his head wearily resting on his
hands. The accident to Edith had utterly unnerved her brother.
"Then all I can say," remarked the doctor, when he took his leave, "is
that the settlement was complete. Whatever the debt may have been, it is
paid in full!"
The Englishmen were now safe in the seclusion of a private room, so
Brett resolved to arouse Talbot from the stupor which had settled upon
him.
"Listen to me, Jack," he said. "You must pull yourself together. Don't
forget you have an important trust to discharge. Our first duty is to
ascertain whether or not the diamonds are intact."
He laid on the table the belt taken from Dubois, and lifted out its
precious contents with careful exactness. The men crowded around. Even
amidst the exciting events of the hour, the sight of the fateful stones
which had caused so much turmoil and bloodshed could not fail to be
deeply interesting.
Predominant among them was the Imperial diamond, luminous, gigantic,
awesome in its potentialities. Its size and known value rendered it one
of the most remarkable objects in the world, whilst even in its present
unfinished state the facets already cut by the workmen gave evidence to
its brilliant purity.
Pulling himself together by an effort, Talbot advanced to the table and
slowly counted the stones. There were fifty-one all told, and even the
smallest of the collection was a diamond of great value.
"Yes," he said, "that is the correct number. I cannot be certain, but I
believe they are the originals. The big one certainly is. It will be one
of the happiest days of my life when I see the last of them."
"That day will arrive soon," remarked Brett quietly. "You and I, Mr.
Winter, must sail on the _Blue-Bell_ to-night for Marseilles. That is,
if Mr. Daubeney is agreeable," he added, turning to that worthy
gentleman, whose face was a trifle paler than it had been for years.
"I am at your service, gentlemen," he announced promptly.
"But what about Fairholme and the young lady," he went on, turning to
Sir Hubert.
"I think I understand," replied the baronet. "Mr. Brett means that these
wretched diamonds should pass officially out of the control of the
British Government as early as possible."
The barrister nodded.
"That being so, no time should be lost. Edith, should all go well, will
be compelled in any event to remain here for several days before she can
be removed. You, Jack, and you, Mr. Brett, should you so desire, can
easily return here from London, after having fulfilled the trust reposed
in you."
"Then I only make one stipulation," put in Daubeney quickly. "The
_Blue-Bell_ will remain in Marseilles and bring you back."
His eagerness evoked a quiet smile all round, and it was generally
agreed that this programme should be followed. In the brief discussion
which ensued, Mr. Winter explained his earlier movements. The detectives
attached to the British Embassy in Paris told him of Dubois' journey to
Marseilles.
Learning that Brett was staying at the Hotel du Louvre et de la Paix, he
went straight there on his arrival, only to learn that the barrister
and some friends had quitted Marseilles that day on a private yacht
bound for Palermo. The local police filled in some of the details, but
chance did the rest.
Going to the P. and O. office to book his passage to Messina on the
_Ganges_, he heard of Gros Jean and the Turks, and then knew that he was
on the right scent.
There was a touching meeting between Edith and the others that evening.
She was naturally pale and weak, but her buoyant spirit triumphed over
physical defects, and she made light of her injuries. Even Fairholme was
restored to a state of sanity by his brief visit, a fact that was
evidenced by his quiet enjoyment of a cigar when he walked down to the
quay to witness the departure of the _Blue-Bell_.
Before leaving Palermo Brett had another interview with the Chief of
Police, the result being that unobtrusive but effective means were taken
to safeguard the different members of the gang which had caused so much
personal suffering and diplomatic uneasiness.
The reception of the party in London may be detailed in a sentence. The
Turkish Ambassador was specially instructed from Constantinople to take
charge of the diamonds, and Talbot had the keen satisfaction of
personally handing them over to the Sultan's representative, in the
presence of his chief at the Foreign Office. The unlucky gems were
forthwith taken back to their owner, and no doubt repose at this moment
in a special reliquary, together with other mementoes of the Prophet,
for the project which led to their first visit to London was definitely
abandoned.
Meanwhile daily telegrams from Palermo assured Talbot and Brett as to
the continued progress of the fair sufferer, who had so nearly
sacrificed her life in her devoted championship of her brother's cause.
At last a day came when the _Blue-Bell_ again steamed into the harbour
of Palermo, and the manner in which Fairholme shouted when he caught
sight of Daubeney standing on the bridge was in itself sufficient
indication that all had gone well during their absence.
The travellers were surprised and delighted to find Edith herself seated
in a carriage with her uncle on the wharf. Were it not that she was
pale, and her right arm was tightly strapped across her breast to
prevent any movement of the injured shoulder, no one could have guessed
that she had recently undergone such a terrible experience.
But Brett, delighted as he was to meet his friends again under such
pleasant conditions, experienced the keenest sentiments of triumphant
elation when he entered the apartment where Dubois was still confined
under the watchful guard of two detectives.
Talbot accompanied him. The young Englishman had by this time quite
forgiven his enemy. He felt that he was more than quits with him.
Indeed, he was the first to speak when they came together.
"I am sorry to see it is your turn to be trussed up in bed, Dubois," he
said. "How are you feeling now? Getting along all right, I hope."
The Frenchman did not answer him directly. A faint smile illumined his
pale face. He turned to Brett with a nonchalant question--
"Mr. Brett, have you any influence with those two worthy Italian
doctors?"
"Perhaps," said the barrister. "What is it you want?"
"I want a cigarette. They won't let me smoke. Surely to goodness, a
cigarette won't hurt my arm."
The barrister turned a questioning glance towards the male nurse in
charge of the patient, but the man did not understand what had been
said. Brett, who spoke no Italian, indicated by pantomime what it was
the Frenchman required, and the attendant signified his sentiments in
silent eloquence--he turned and looked out of the window. So Dubois
enjoyed his cigarette in peace. He gave a sigh of great contentment, and
then said, lazily--
"Now, ask me anything you like. I am ready."
"There is only one point concerning which I am really at fault," began
Brett. "How did your Turkish associates manage to murder Mehemet Ali and
his secretaries so quietly?"
"Oh, that was easy enough," declared the Frenchman. "You understand I
was in no way responsible for the blood-letting, and indeed strongly
disapproved of it."
"Yes," replied the barrister. "I believe that."
"Well, the rest of the business was simplicity itself. Hussein--the
Envoy's confidential servant--was in our pay. It was, of course,
absolutely necessary to have an accomplice in the house, and his price
was a small one--five hundred pounds, I think. The credentials we
brought, which you, Mr. Talbot, examined, were not forgeries."
"How can that be?" cried Jack. "The Sultan would never be a party to a
plot for his own undoing."
"Don't ask me for explanations I cannot give," responded Dubois coolly.
"The exact facts of this story can only be ascertained at Yildiz Kiosk,
and I do not suppose that anyone there will ever tell you. No doubt you
saw for yourself that Mehemet Ali was convinced. Were it not for you,
he would have given up control that night. But you and your policemen,
and your confounded English notions of right and wrong, rendered
necessary the adoption of the second part of the plan we had decided on,
in case the first miscarried. After I left the house with you, Hussein
brought in more coffee. That which he and my Turkish friends drank was
all right. The beverage given to Mehemet Ali and his secretaries was
drugged."
"Ah!" interrupted Brett, "that explains everything. But why was Hussein
killed?"
"That is another matter, which only a Turk can understand. These fellows
believe in the knife or a piece of whipcord as ending unpleasant
difficulties most effectually. You see they were not ordinary rogues.
They pretended to be conspirators actuated by pure political
motives--motives which a common servant like Hussein could not really be
expected to appreciate. So to close his mouth thoroughly they stabbed
him whilst he was taking some loose cash from his master's pockets. Then
it occurred to them that when Mehemet Ali and the others recovered from
the effects of the drug, they also would be able to throw an
unpleasantly strong light on the complicity of certain high personages
in Constantinople. This was sufficient reason for the adoption of strong
measures, so they also were peacefully despatched."
"But where did the knife come from?" pursued Brett. "It was not in their
possession when they entered, nor when they left."
"No; of course not. Hussein brought it himself, to be used in case of
necessity. He also brought the pliers which cut the wire blinds, and the
material used for concealing the broken strands subsequently. Hussein
was really an excellent confederate, and I was furious when I heard that
he was dead. You know how the diamonds were abstracted from the house?"
"Yes," said Brett. "They were made up into a parcel and flung through
the window into the Park. The knife and the pliers accompanied them, I
suppose?"
"The third Turk--the gentleman who pulled you down on to the bed so
unceremoniously, Mr. Talbot--was waiting there for the packet. But he
had to hide in the Park all the night, until the gates were opened in
the morning. It was a ticklish business right through. I did not know at
what hour the police might discover the extent of the crime. The
diamonds did not reach me until seven o'clock. And then I had some
difficulty in persuading the Turks to give them up to me. You see, I had
my own little plan, too, which these excellent gentlemen never
suspected, as they already had paid me £5,000 for my help. But the real
heads of the party were in Paris--Hussein-ul-Mulk and that gang, you
know--and by representing the danger to their cause which would result
from any attempt on the part of the Turks in London to reach France,
they were at last persuaded. By nine o'clock that morning I got them
safely off to the docks, where they boarded a vessel bound for Smyrna.
Their passages were already booked in Armenian names. Gros Jean, who had
no connexion with the affair personally, stayed at a little hotel in
Soho in order to report all clear during the next few days. He happened
by chance to travel with you and the other man. It was a clever scheme,
I assure you, from beginning to end. By the way, may I trouble you for
another cigarette?"
"These are not equal to Hussein-ul-Mulk's," said Brett, producing his
case.
"No, he has an exquisite taste in tobacco. But I nearly fooled him with
the dummy diamonds. I would have done so if it had not been for you. Do
you know, Mr. Brett, I have always underrated Englishmen's brains. You
are really stupid as a nation"--here Talbot almost blushed--"but you are
an exception. You ought to be a Frenchman."
"I suppose I may regard that as a compliment?" remarked Brett casually.
"Take it as you like," said Dubois. "And now that I have told you all
that you want to know, I suppose, may I ask you a question of some
interest to myself? What is to become of me? Am I to be hanged, or
imprisoned, or passed on to the Sultan for treatment?"
Brett was silent for a few moments. He had fully discussed Dubois'
connexion with the British authorities.
"How much of the five thousand pounds given you by the Turks remains in
your possession?" he demanded.
The Frenchman hesitated before replying--
"There is no use lying to you. I have not yet expended the first
thousand, although I had to pay pretty dearly for a good many things."
Again there was silence.
"Why did you come here?" asked the barrister.
"Because I would be safe for some months with a few hospitable gentlemen
whom I know up in the hills there." He nodded towards the window,
through which they could see the blue crests of the distant mountains.
"And then?"
"Then Marguerite and I were going to the Argentine, to dwell in rural
felicity, and teach our children to bless the name of Mahomet and Abdul
Hamid."
"Marguerite is Mademoiselle Beaucaire?"
"Yes, poor girl! I hear she is ill and in prison, together with her
excellent father. Really, Mr. Brett, I cannot help liking you, but I
ought to feel anxious to cut your throat."
"In that case you would certainly be hanged. Are you married to
Mademoiselle Beaucaire?"
The Frenchman darted a quick and angry look at his inquisitor.
"What has that to do with you?" he snarled.
Dubois' future had already been determined. The rascal was more
fortunate than he deserved to be. Owing to the lucky chance that his
crime had a political significance he would escape punishment. By no
known form of European law could he be brought to trial on any charge
and at the same time gagged in his defence. The slightest public
reference to either the theft of the diamonds or the Sultan's original
intentions with regard to them would create such a storm in the
Mohammedan world that no man could prophesy the end.
When the Ottoman Empire is next torn asunder by civil war other thrones
will rock to their foundations. Half unconsciously, though he had a
glimmering perception of the truth, Henri Dubois was saved by the
magnitude of the interests involved.
Brett knew exactly how to deal with him. But a fantastic project had
arisen in his mind, and he determined to graft it upon the drastic
expedient adopted by the authorities. He abruptly broke off the
conversation and told the Frenchman that he would call again during the
afternoon.
True to his promise, Talbot and he visited the injured man some hours
later. This time they were accompanied by a stout individual and a
closely-veiled lady--Gros Jean and his daughter.
The meeting between Henri and Marguerite was pathetic. It was at the
same time exceedingly French, and somewhat trying to the nerves of the
Englishmen.
At last the couple calmed their transports, and Brett promptly recalled
them to a sense of their surroundings by reminding them that there was
serious business to be discussed.
"I am commissioned to inform you," he said, addressing Dubois, "that if
you proceed direct to the Argentine, never attempt to revisit France,
and keep your mouth closed as to your attempt to purloin the Sultan's
jewels, you will be set at liberty here, and no effort will be made by
the French or English police to arrest you. The infringement of any of
these conditions will lead to your extradition and a sentence of penal
servitude for life."
"_Ma foi!_" cried the Frenchman, looking intently into the barrister's
inscrutable face. "Why such tenderness?"
Brett would not give him time for prolonged reflection.
"I have not yet finished," he said drily. "I imagine that Mlle.
Beaucaire cannot produce a marriage certificate. She will be supplied
with one, to permit her to travel with you as your lawful wife."
The pair were startled. They somewhat relaxed the close embrace in which
they sat. The man's handsome face flushed with anger. The woman became a
shade paler and looked from the barrister to her lover.
"Good," growled Gros Jean. "Quite right!"
"We can manage our own affairs," began Dubois savagely; but Brett again
took up the parable.
"You owe this lady a deep debt of gratitude for her unswerving devotion
to you. She has helped you to lead an evil life; let her now assist you
in a better career. You have your chance. Will you take it?"
La Belle Chasseuse sat mute and downcast. This personal development came
as a complete surprise to her. Pride would not permit her to plead her
own cause. Dubois glanced at her covertly. He was still annoyed and
defiant; but even he, hardened scoundrel and cynic though he was, could
not find words to contest Brett's decision.
The barrister deemed the moment ripe for his final smashing argument. He
came somewhat nearer to the bed, and said with exasperating coolness--
"There is a secret room in the Cabaret Noir, the contents of which have
not yet been too closely examined by the police. It is in their charge.
At my request, backed up by the British Foreign Office, they have thus
far deferred a detailed scrutiny. Perhaps if the external influence is
removed they may press their investigations to a point when it will be
impossible to permit your contemplated voyage to the Argentine. You know
best. I have nothing further to say."
Dubois looked at him in moody silence. The Argentine--with £4,000? Yes.
But a wife!
Suddenly all eyes were attracted to Gros Jean, who emitted a gasping
groan. His fat cheeks were livid, and huge drops of perspiration stood
on his brow. Feeling that the others were regarding him intently, he
made a desperate effort to recover his composure.
"It is nothing!" he gurgled. "The English gentleman's proposal with
regard to my daughter interested me, that is all."
Dubois and the innkeeper gazed intently into each other's eyes for a few
trying seconds. Then the Frenchman drew Marguerite closer to him, with
his uninjured arm, and said--
"Let us get married, _ma p'tite_. It is essential."
And married they were forthwith, a priest and an official from the
Mayor's office being in waiting at the hotel. Whilst they were signing
the register Gros Jean motioned Brett to one side.
"Allow me to thank you, M'sieu', for the kindness you have shown," he
murmured. "Touching that hidden room in the Cabaret, now. Do the police
really know of it? You were not joking?"
"Not in the least."
"Then, M'sieu', I accompany them to the Argentine," and he jerked his
thumb towards Dubois and his wife. "Paris is no place for me."
Soon after the ceremony Mme. Dubois asked to be allowed to visit Edith.
When the two women met Marguerite flung herself impulsively on her knees
and sobbed out a request for forgiveness. Miss Talbot should have been
very angry with her erring sister. She was not. She took the keenest
interest in the Frenchwoman's romantic history. They talked until
Fairholme became impatient. He had not seen Edith for two whole hours.
* * * * *
Six months later, when the Earl and Countess of Fairholme returned from
a prolonged wedding tour on the _Blue-Bell_ through the Norwegian
fiords, Brett was invited to dinner. Talbot was there, of course, and
Daubeney, and Sir Hubert.
"Constantinople must be a queer place," observed Jack after the first
rush of animated converse had exhausted itself.
"Surely there are no more diamond mysteries on foot!" cried his charming
sister, who looked delightfully well, and brown as a berry with the keen
sea breezes of the hardy North.
"Not exactly; but I made some inquiries through a friend of mine in the
Legation. Hussein-ul-Mulk and his two Paris friends are quite important
functionaries in the palace. You remember that the other pair of
scoundrels escaped to Smyrna?"
"Yes," cried everybody.
"Well, Mehemet Ali's relatives heard the truth about them by some means.
Within a reasonable time they were chopped into small pieces, with other
details that need not be repeated."
"Dogs, or pigs?" inquired Brett.
"Dogs!"
"I wish you wouldn't say such horrid things," protested Edith. "Is there
any news of Monsieur and Madame Dubois, and the fat man Gros Jean?"
"You will receive some in the drawing-room, Lady Fairholme," said Brett;
and not another word of explanation would he give until dinner was
ended.
In the drawing-room her ladyship was delighted to find a splendid
cockatoo, magnificent in size and white as snow, save for the brilliant
red crest which he elevated when they all crowded round his handsome
cage.
"The happy couple in the Argentine sent him to me to be presented to you
on your return," explained the barrister. "He is named 'Le Prophète,'
and he talks beautifully--indeed, his language is most emphatic, but it
is all French."
"What a darling!" cried Edith. "I do wish he would say something. _Cher
Prophète, parlez avec moi!_"
And immediately the cockatoo stretched his wings and screamed--
"_Vive Mahomet! Vive le Sultan! À bas les Grecs! à bas! à bas!_"
FINIS