WHERE IS RAWLINS?
Lord Littimer was greatly interested in all that Chris had to say. The
whole story was confided to him after dinner. Over his coffee on the
terrace he offered many shrewd suggestions.
"There is one thing wherein you have made a mistake," he said. "And that
is in your idea that Henson changed those cigar-cases after Miss Gates
laid your votive offering on Steel's doorstep."
"How else could it be done?" Chris said.
"My dear, the thing is quite obvious. You have already told me that
Henson was quite aware what you were going to do--at least that he knew
you were going to consult Steel. Also he knew that you were going to make
Steel a present, and by a little judicious eavesdropping he contrived to
glean all about the cigar-case. The fellow has already admitted to your
sister that he listened. How long was that before you bought the
cigar-case?"
"I should say it might have been a week. We had inquiries to make, you
know. In the first instance we never dreamt of offering Mr. Steel money.
I blush to think of that folly."
"Well, blush a little later on when you have more time. Then Henson had a
week to work out his little scheme. He knows all about the cigar-case; he
knows where it is going to be bought. Then he goes to Lockhart's and
purchases some trifle in the shape of a cigar-case; he has it packed up,
yellow string and all. This is his dummy. By keeping his eyes open he
gets the chance he is waiting for. Ruth Gates hadn't the faintest idea
that he knew anything when she left that case the day she bought it
within reach of Henson. He gets her out of the way for a minute or two,
he unties the parcel, and places the Van Sneck case in it. No, by Jove,
he needn't have bought anything from Lockhart's at all. I only thought of
that to account for the yellow string and the stamped paper that
Lockhart's people use. He first takes one case out of the parcel and
replaces it with another, and there you are. You may depend upon it that
was the way in which it was done."
The more Chris thought over the matter the more certain she felt that
such was the case. Like most apparently wonderful things, the explanation
was absurdly simple. A conjurer's most marvellous tricks are generally
the easiest.
"How foolish of us not to have thought of this before," Chris said,
thoughtfully. "At any rate, we know all about it now. And we know who
bought the cigar-case so promptly returned to Lockhart's by Henson. I
should like to see this Rawlins."
"You have got to find him first," said Littimer.
"I'm going into Moreton Wells again to-morrow to make inquiries,"
said Chris.
But she was saved the trouble. Once more the ever-blessed telephone stood
her in good stead. She was just on the point of starting for Moreton
Wells when Steel called her up. Chris recognised him with a thrill of
eager pleasure.
"You need not be afraid," she said. "You can speak quite freely. How is
Van Sneck?"
"Very queer," David responded. "Bell hoped to have operated upon him
before this, but such a course has not been deemed quite prudent. The day
after to-morrow it will be, I expect. Henson has found out where Van
Sneck is."
"Indeed. Has he been to see you?"
"He has been more than once on all kinds of ingenious pretences. But I
didn't call you up to tell you this. We have been making inquiries at
Walen's, Marley and myself. The time has come now to let Marley behind
the scenes a bit."
"Did Walen's people know anything about the tall American?"
"Oh, yes. A tall American with a thin beard and a faint suggestion of
small-pox called about a week before the great adventure, and asked to
see some gun-metal diamond-mounted cigar-cases--like the one in
Lockhart's window."
"Did he really volunteer that remark?"
"He did, saying also that Lockhart's were too dear. Walen's hadn't got
what he wanted, but they promised to get some cases out of stock, which
meant that they would go to the same wholesale house as Lockhart's and
get some similar cases. As a matter of fact, one of Walen's assistants
was sent round to study the case in Lockhart's window. The cases were
procured on the chance of a sale, but the American never turned up again.
No notice was taken of this, because such things often happen to
shopkeepers."
"And this was about a week before the night of the great adventure?"
"Yes. Wait a bit. I have not quite finished yet. Now, once I had
ascertained this, an important fact becomes obvious. The American didn't
want a cigar-case at all."
"But he subsequently purchased the one returned to Lockhart's shop."
"That remark does not suggest your usual acumen. The American was
preparing the ground for Van Sneck to purchase with a view to a
subsequent exchange. You have not fully grasped the vileness of this
plot yet. I went to Lockhart's and succeeded in discovering that the
purchaser of the returned case was a tall American, quite of the
pattern I expected. Then I managed to get on to the trail at the
Metropole here. They recollected when I could describe the man; they
also recollected the largeness of his tips. Then I traced my man to the
Lion at Moreton Wells, where he had obviously gone to see Reginald
Henson. From the Lion our friend went to the Royal at Scarsdale Sands,
where he is staying at present."
"Under the name of John Smith?"
"I suppose so, seeing that all the inquiries under that name were
successful. If you would like me to come up and interview the man
for you--"
"I should like you to do nothing of the kind," Chris said. "You are more
useful in Brighton, and I am going to interview Mr. John Smith Rawlins
for myself. Good-bye. Just one moment. For the next few days my address
will be the Royal Hotel, Scarsdale Sands."
Chris countermanded the dog-cart she had ordered and repaired to the
library, where Littimer was tying some trout-flies behind a cloud of
cigarette smoke.
"Thought you had gone to Moreton Wells," he said. "Been at the telephone
again? A pretty nice bill I shall have to pay for all those long messages
of yours."
"Mr. Steel pays this time," Chris said, gaily. "He has just given me some
information that obviates the necessity of going into the town. My dear
uncle, you want a change. You look tired and languid--"
"Depression of spirits and a disinclination to exercise after food. Also
a morbid craving for seven to eight hours' sleep every night. What's the
little game?"
"Bracing air," Chris laughed. "Lord Littimer and his secretary, Miss Lee,
are going to spend a few days at Scarsdale Sands, Royal Hotel, to
recuperate after their literary labours."
"The air here being so poor and enervating," Littimer said, cynically.
"In other words, I suppose you have traced Rawlins to Scarsdale Sands?"
"How clever you are," said Chris, admiringly. "Walen's American and
Lockhart's American, with the modest pseudonym of John Smith, are what
Mrs. Malaprop would call three single gentlemen rolled into one. We are
going to make the acquaintance of John Smith Rawlins."
"Oh, indeed, and when do we start, may I ask?"
Chris responded coolly that she hoped to get away in the course of the
day. With a great show of virtuous resignation Lord Littimer consented.
"I have always been the jest of fortune," he said, plaintively; "but I
never expected to be dragged all over the place at my time of life by a
girl who is anxious to make me acquainted with the choicest blackguardism
in the kingdom. I leave my happy home, my cook, and my cellar, for at
least a week of hotel living. Well, one can only die once."
Chris bustled away to make the necessary arrangements. Some few hours
later Lord Littimer was looking out from his luxurious private
sitting-room with the assumption of being a martyr. He and Chris were
dressed for dinner; they were waiting for the bell to summon them to the
dining-room. When they got down at length they found quite a large number
of guests already seated at the many small tables.
"Your man here?" Littimer asked, languidly.
Chris indicated two people seated in a window opposite.
"There!" she whispered. "There he is. And what a pretty girl with him!"