THE LEOPARD’S CLAWS
Inspector Charles presented himself at the house in Montague Street
while Sir Frank and I were at breakfast the next morning. My chief
ordered him to be shown in to us.
The Inspector’s manner struck me as rather more reserved than it had
been yesterday. It very quickly appeared that he was acting under
instructions not received from the medical adviser of the Home Office.
“The Chief Commissioner is anxious to know if you have any report to
make as to the cause of death in this Domino Club affair,” he began by
saying, as soon as he had sat down.
Tarleton frowned slightly. Then he laid down his knife and fork and
faced the Inspector.
“I don’t expect to complete my report for some time yet. I have certain
inquiries to make which may take anything from a few days to several
months.”
Captain Charles looked astonished, as he well might.
“Then it isn’t a simple case of opium-poisoning?”
“It isn’t a simple case, certainly. I don’t say that opium was not
administered. By the way, I should be glad if you could find out for me
what disguise the Crown Prince was wearing when he went to the Club.”
The Captain drew himself up.
“I ascertained that yesterday. He wore a plain black domino with a
hood.”
“Ah! Rather like Weathered’s costume, then?”
I could have answered that question better than Charles, I thought.
There had been more than one black domino worn at the fatal dance, but
none that had any real semblance to Weathered’s remarkable costume.
The pointed peak with the two eye-slits in the cloth instead of a mask
had plainly distinguished the founder of the Club from everyone else
present. Of course I dared not offer my testimony as a witness. I did
not think it prudent even to make a remark. Tarleton might have an
object in putting forward this particular view.
It quickly appeared what his object was.
“I don’t think the Commissioner is much inclined to follow up that
clue,” Captain Charles said coldly. “They seem to think in the Foreign
Office that it would do harm to let any idea get abroad that the Crown
Prince was aimed at. It would look as if London wasn’t a safe place for
foreign royalties to visit.”
The physician shrugged his shoulders impatiently.
“That has nothing to do with me, Captain Charles. It will be time
enough for the Foreign Office to make their view prevail when we have
something definite to go upon. At present I am dealing with the cause
of death. I want the police, if they can, to find out if the Bolshevik
authorities have ever resorted to poison, and if so, what poison they
use. I imagine they have no restrictions on opium, and I should be
particularly glad to get hold of samples of the opium that is coming
into Russia from China just now.”
The Inspector pulled a long face.
“I’ll tell the Commissioner what you say, Sir Frank, of course. But I’m
afraid he won’t much like the idea of the inquiry being dragged out.
His theory is that death was accidental, the only object being to get
hold of the keys of the safe. And if there isn’t going to be any public
prosecution, he wants to close the Club as soon as possible, and send
the woman Bonnell out of the country.”
For once I saw Tarleton really angry.
“I trust Sir Hercules will recognize that it is for me to decide
whether the death was accidental, and that he will take no such steps
until he has received my report through the Home Office. Unless you can
undertake that he will hold his hand for the present I must communicate
with Sir James Ponsonby at once.”
Charles gave way instantly.
“There’s no need for that, Sir Frank, I’m sure. Sir Hercules McNaught
wouldn’t think of acting contrary to your opinion without consulting
you first. It doesn’t look to him as if the case could be carried much
further; that’s all.”
“We are only at the beginning of the inquiry,” was the firm answer.
“You haven’t yet completed your search among the costumiers.”
The Inspector shook his head despondently.
“We have pretty well exhausted the list of costumiers, and there is
nothing worth reporting, sir. At least the Commissioner thinks it
absurd to attach any importance to Miss Neobard’s presence. He says
she would have had much better opportunities of getting hold of her
step-father’s keys at home.”
My chief glanced at me. It was the same objection that he had made
himself.
“We can’t hear anything of a leopard skin,” Charles pursued. “You may
remember, sir, that you expressed the opinion that the leopardess
costume would turn out to be a private one. And the only Zenobia
costume we can trace was furnished a year ago.”
I stole a glance at the consultant. His keen eyes were no longer on me.
“To whom was it furnished?” he asked quietly.
The Inspector took out a note-book and opened it.
“To the Lady Violet Bredwardine, Grosvenor Place.”
At last the name had been pronounced, the name that I had so much
dreaded to hear on the lips of the police. Fortunately I had known that
it was coming. I had braced my nerves to meet the shock, and I managed
to preserve an air of complete indifference while I faced the speaker.
“Well?”
Tarleton spoke a little sharply. Captain Charles looked at him in mild
wonder.
“Well?” the specialist repeated impatiently. “What have you ascertained
about Lady Violet Bredwardine?”
Charles was plainly put out by the question.
“Her ladyship is the daughter of the Earl of Ledbury. She is quite
young--hardly of age. Sir Hercules McNaught has met her in society.”
His manner conveyed that there was some impropriety in making Lady
Violet’s name the subject of discussion. The day before I had been
inclined to feel some contempt for the worthy Captain, but now I was
only grateful for his stolid front.
My chief took a very different view, unfortunately.
“And is that all you have thought it worth while to find out? A peerage
would have told us as much as that. I have no doubt that Sir Hercules
has met many members of the Domino Club in society. It doesn’t follow
that they are to be excluded from the investigation.”
This time the Inspector did not attempt to conceal his mortification.
“I beg your pardon, Sir Frank. Do you mean that Lady Violet Bredwardine
is a member of the Domino Club? I hadn’t the slightest reason to
suppose so.”
It was the consultant’s turn to show surprise. He stared at me.
“Surely her name was on the list I asked you to furnish to Captain
Charles? I have a distinct recollection of it.”
I received the question, for which I had been waiting, with perfect
coolness.
“I seem to recollect it too, sir.”
The Inspector was already turning over the pages of his note-book. He
looked up at us in triumph.
“I made a copy of the list exactly as I received it, Sir Frank, and the
name is not here. I am prepared to swear that her ladyship’s name was
not included.”
Tarleton turned to me.
“Will you be good enough to bring me the list I gave you to copy. It
looks as though some slip had been made.”
I had not ventured to destroy the document. To have done so would
have been to expose myself to a serious rebuke, without serving any
useful purpose. Tarleton was not the man to forget such a name as Lady
Violet’s--one of the first that had attracted his attention among those
that appeared in Weathered’s appointment-book with a number attached to
them. All I had hoped to do was to keep the police off her track for a
few hours, and that object had now been achieved.
The list was actually in my breast pocket, but I went up to my room as
though to fetch it, and returned, carrying it in my hand. I put on an
apologetic air as I handed it to my chief.
“The name is certainly here, sir. I can only suppose that I must have
left it out of the copy I made for Captain Charles.”
Tarleton let me off more lightly than I expected.
“Either you or the Captain left it out, that’s clear,” he said gruffly.
“The point is that Lady Violet was not only a member of the Club; she
was also one of Weathered’s patients, which means that she may have
been in his power, and she was one of those to whom he had given a
special number for some reason that we have still to find out. Perhaps
she may be able to tell us.”
I could scarcely suppress a shiver. This point had never occurred to
me. I pictured to myself the question being put to the unhappy girl,
and tortured myself with wondering what would be her reply.
The Inspector’s attitude had undergone a considerable change as he
listened to Tarleton’s information. Evidently he realized that the
police authorities had been rather hasty in coming to the conclusion
that the inquiry was at an end.
“What you tell me makes a great difference, sir,” he observed
regretfully. “I’ve no doubt the Commissioner will see the necessity of
going further into the case, on this evidence.”
“There are many reasons for going into it further,” the specialist
returned. “You may tell the Commissioner from me that I suspect a
book has been taken from Dr. Weathered’s safe containing the names
and confidential confessions of his patients, and it is of the utmost
importance that that book should be traced. Until we know that it is
destroyed the reputations of innocent people will be in danger. You may
also tell him that there is grave reason to fear that some unscrupulous
person in London is in possession of a supply of deadly poison, unknown
to science at present; and unless that person can be discovered and the
poison taken out of his or her possession, it may be used to commit
more murders than one.”
Captain Charles’s expression was almost humble.
“You may rely on the Commissioner’s giving you all the assistance
in his power, Sir Frank, I’m certain. I’ll follow up Lady Violet
Bredwardine without delay, if that will meet your views.”
“Thank you. There are two things I should like you to report to me the
moment you know them: Lady Violet’s present address, and where she was
yesterday night.”
The Inspector scribbled two lines in his note-book, and hurried off.
Meanwhile my position was becoming more difficult every hour. I had to
look on and see the toils closing round one whom I would have given
my life to protect, without daring to show the least sign of personal
interest in her fate. My own peril, serious as it was, affected me but
little in comparison with hers. I can honestly say that I should have
been ready to draw suspicion on myself if I could have screened her by
so doing. But the very reverse was the case, as I knew too well. The
only course open to me was to hold my tongue, to keep a strict guard
on myself, and to watch for any chance that might present itself of
diverting suspicion from either of us.
I was afraid to commit myself by any expression of opinion on the case
as it stood against Lady Violet, but I thought I might venture to
remind my chief that she was not the only person implicated. He had
dismissed Sarah Neobard altogether from the inquiry, or so it seemed,
but the mysterious Leopardess remained to be identified. I ventured on
a question.
“Do you think, Sir Frank, there is any chance of the police getting
on the trail of the woman who wore the leopard skin? According to
the waiter’s evidence she was the one who showed most hostility to
Weathered. She refused to dance with him, you may remember. Somehow
Gerard gave me the impression that she was his only real enemy.”
I was gratified by Tarleton’s quick response.
“You are perfectly right, Cassilis. That is the very point I was
considering before you spoke. In my opinion there is very little
likelihood of Charles tracing that woman. I think you and I must try
our hand.”
I need scarcely say how delighted I was at this prospect. At last I
should be able to devote myself to serving my chief without any dread
of the result.
“Will it be possible to trace the leopard skin?” I asked. “There are
not many taxidermists in London, are there? I have only heard of one.
We might go round to them, and find out if any skins have passed
through their hands recently. What strikes me is that all the skins I
have seen have been mounted as rugs. I shouldn’t think that unmounted
skins could be very common--skins that could be made part of a costume.”
My chief had punctuated these suggestions with a series of approving
nods. At the close he spoke.
“Very good indeed, Cassilis. You have the makings of a detective, I can
see. And now let me explain to you where I see a chance of success.
You may put the taxidermists on one side. Leopard skins are such
perishable things, and the climates in which leopards are killed are
so treacherous, that the skins have to be roughly cured on the spot if
they are to be preserved. And they are too common to be the object of
much care afterwards as a rule. The chances are against any particular
skin having passed through the hands of a taxidermist in London unless
it was to be mounted as a rug.”
I felt very small as I listened to this reduction of my ideas to
nothing. The specialist had not done.
“I don’t think it would be at all hopeful to try to trace the skin,
therefore. But I think it quite possible to trace something else. Do
you remember what else about the costume the man Gerard described?”
“Do you mean the necklace--of leopard’s claws?” I responded in doubt.
“Yes. I see you don’t grasp the significance of the claws. I must tell
you that the natives of the countries where leopards are found look
upon the claws as having a magical virtue. They place a great value on
them, and take them from the dead leopard at the first opportunity they
find. It is almost impossible for the white man who shoots a leopard to
secure the claws. I doubt if more than one entire set of claws comes to
England in a year. Now you see that in my opinion we have a very much
greater chance of tracing the claws than the skin.”
I was fairly puzzled. I could follow Tarleton’s reasoning, of course,
but I could not imagine how he meant to proceed.
“These claws must have been brought home, according to my idea, by
a sportsman and traveller of experience, who knew the ways of the
natives, and was able to baffle them. Men of that class are not very
numerous, and most of them have published books of their travels. I am
going to spend the rest of the morning in going to the libraries and
publishers; and I want you to spend it in the Natural History Museum at
South Kensington.”
There was no occasion for me to express the admiration I sincerely felt
for my chief’s knowledge and resource. I waited in silent wonder for
his instructions.
“I am not an expert in zoölogy,” he said modestly. “I know, of course,
that leopards, or animals closely resembling leopards, are found along
the tropical zone. They are called jaguars in South America, I believe,
and panthers elsewhere. At all events their skins are sufficiently like
the true leopard’s to be called leopard skins by an ignorant man like
Gerard. What I want you to do is to ascertain if such animals occur in
the East Indian archipelago, and particularly in the Island of Sumatra.”
It was a curious direction. What was there in the circumstances of the
case to turn Sir Frank’s mind to one part of the tropics rather than
another, and to one particular island? Perhaps it showed some dullness
on my part; I can only confess that I had not the least idea of his
motive.
“Sumatra,” he repeated in a meditative tone, “almost the largest
island in the world, and yet the least known. Nominally it is a Dutch
possession, but the Dutch have never subjugated it. They have never
thoroughly penetrated the interior. The natives have been too fierce
for them to subdue. They occupy one or two points on the coast, I
fancy, but that is all. There was a Sultan of Acheen who fought with
them at one time. I don’t think he was really conquered. A very
interesting field for an explorer willing to take his life in his hand.”
And still I failed to grasp the mysterious connection between the
vast unknown island lying on the Equator and the tragedy I had all but
witnessed in a night club of London.
“You can take my card,” the specialist added. “You will find the people
at the Museum most obliging. If they have the information they will
give it to you willingly.”
I took the card, and the Piccadilly Tube from Russell Square soon
landed me at South Kensington. As Sir Frank Tarleton had foretold, the
staff of the Natural History Museum received it with all respect, and
showed themselves ready to give all the information they possessed. The
gentleman who took me in hand was confident that there were leopards
in Sumatra; nevertheless, when it came to the question of positive
evidence he found some difficulty in putting his hand on any.
“You have struck the least-known area in the world, you see,” he
pointed out. “We know the fauna of the Malay Peninsula, and of Java and
all the other East Indian islands as far as the Philippines, and one
has always taken it for granted that the fauna of Sumatra corresponded
with that of the neighbouring area north of the Wallace line. But if
you ask me for an official declaration that leopards are to be found in
the island I don’t think I can give it off-hand. We might be able to
get the information by writing to The Hague. Or you might find it in
some book of travels in the British Museum Library.”
“Sir Frank Tarleton is searching in the Library at this moment, I
believe,” I said incautiously.
My guide opened his eyes.
“You surprise me. I had no idea that Sir Frank was so much interested
in natural history. I have always associated his name with toxicology.”
The light burst on me at last. I understood the true reason for my
chief’s extreme interest in following up the clue of the leopard’s
claws, and for his turning his special attention to the region of the
earth least known to science. He had perceived a connection overlooked
by me between the rare necklace worn by the unknown woman in the Domino
Club and the gray powder contained in the small glass bottle in his
private safe. He was on the search for some other product of Sumatra
besides its leopards. He expected to trace the secret drug whose
presence the effects of the opium had concealed.