CAPTAIN MANUEL
The Spaniard was even darker than is usual with people of his race;
also he had an eagle nose and hair very straight, glossy and black.
His eyes were large and brilliant, his mouth rather full and a trifle
sensual, and his lean, alert figure was peculiarly straight and
upright. Added to these advantages he wore a heavy black moustache,
which he twirled at times with an insolent air; so that on the whole
he was a remarkably handsome man. But there was something uncivilised
about him--a strange, wild look, which suggested the soldier of
fortune. Probably he was what he represented himself to be--a Peruvian
gentleman serving as a captain in the army of the Republic; but to
Torry--who was well read for a man of his position--he seemed like a
buccaneer or filibuster. It was Captain Kidd in a frock-coat.
At the present moment he seemed much agitated, and, leaning on his
stick with both hands, challenged the regard of Leighbourne and Torry.
Vass had thrown himself into a chair, and, as his pale face testified,
seemed to be overcome with consternation. On the unexpected surprise
of this sudden arrival there ensued a short silence; so finding that
no one spoke, Captain Manuel addressed himself to all three on the
subject of the robbery.
"I gave Mr. Grent ten thousand pounds some three weeks ago," said he,
his foreign accent becoming more pronounced in his excitement, "and I
went to your bank this day to obtain it. Dios! what do I find!"
"You find that Mr. Grent is dead," said Torry smoothly.
"Yes sir; and my money gone, sir!" to Leighbourne. "I know you are a
master in this bank. You will return to me my money."
"That entirely depends on the circumstances of the case, Señor
Manuel," replied the banker, who looked pale but composed. "Vass,
perhaps you can throw some light on this subject?"
"On my soul I can't, sir," cried Vass, starting to his feet. "I only
know that Mr. Grent told me he had received in bank notes the sum of
ten thousand pounds from Captain Manuel some three weeks ago. He kept
the money for some time down at Wray House; but as he was going to
Italy, he did not think it would be safe to leave it there; so he
brought it up to the bank and told me to place it in his private safe.
I did so in his presence, and he locked the door. Afterwards he went
away, and I heard nothing more of him until the news of the murder
came."
"If this is true, my money should be right," said Manuel sharply.
"It is not in the safe!" cried Vass wildly. "When Captain Manuel came
to-day to ask for his money, I told him that I could not give it to
him as I had no authority to do so. He wished then to see if it was
all right, so in his presence I opened the safe, only to find that the
notes were gone."
"Well Mr. Grent could not have taken them," said Leighbourne.
"No, no," said Vass; "He did not. I tell you he locked the safe in my
presence."
"Could he not have returned?" asked Torry.
"Not without someone in the bank seeing him."
"But after office hours?"
"Even then the porter would have seen him," groaned Vass, who seemed
very wretched. "There are only two entrances to the bank, and James,
the porter has the keys of both. No one can go or come without passing
him; he is bound to see all who enter."
"Did you ask him if Mr. Grent returned?"
"Yes--but he says no! Like myself, he saw Mr. Grent last on Friday."
Here Captain Manuel interposed sharply. "All this is well, sirs, but
to me unnecessary. My money is what I wish. You give it to me."
"I'll speak to my father about it," said Leighbourne quickly. "You
shall not lose your money if I can help it. But I would point out to
you, sir, that the bank is not responsible for the amount."
"Not responsible?" echoed Manuel, striking his stick furiously on the
floor.
"No!" answered the banker firmly. "Your money was not deposited with
our firm, but placed by you in the keeping of Mr. Grent. He,
therefore, was responsible for its safety."
"But he is dead; and cannot repay me."
"His estate is no doubt large enough to repay you. I shall speak to my
father, as I said before. He is one of the executors; and I have no
doubt he will refund this ten thousand pounds out of the property left
by Mr. Grent, on receiving proof that you paid the money."
"I have a paper signed by Mr. Grent stating that he received the
money," said Manuel sullenly, "and this gentleman," waving his stick
towards Vass, "was told by Mr. Grent that the money was mine."
Vass looked up eagerly. "Mr. Grent said that the money belonged to
some society," said he.
"It does. To a society of which I am the representative."
"Oh! oh! oh!" cried Torry, in three different keys; he was struck by a
new idea, and looked directly at Manuel. "Has your society anything to
do with Peru?"
"Possibly," returned Manuel superciliously; "but my society, sir, has
nothing to do with you."
"Ah!" said the detective ironically; "I am not a Blue Mummy!"
This time Captain Manuel was fairly taken by surprise. Evidently the
random shot of the detective had unexpectedly hit the mark. The
Spaniard flushed a dusky red; stepped forward; on second thoughts
stepped back; and recovered his former serenity with an effort.
"I don't know what you mean," he said sullenly. Torry whistled softly,
but said nothing. The attitude of the Spaniard confirmed the
suspicions he entertained concerning the Blue Mummy. Evidently it was
the badge of some secret society to which Manuel belonged. If so, as
the token of the Blue Mummy had been found near both the victims, they
must have been murdered by order of the association. But for what
reason? Plainly because the ten thousand pounds which represented the
funds of the society had been stolen. But who was the thief? Here
Torry came to a pause, as his reason or imagination could lead him no
further. However, to discover more, he determined to have Manuel
watched; but in the meantime he was wise enough to hold his tongue.
Seeing that the detective made no reply, Manuel turned his back on him
with a shrug of contempt, and walked smartly towards the door. There
he turned and addressed Leighbourne.
"I shall expect repayment of that money within a fortnight," he said
coldly. "Otherwise----"
"Well," cried the banker defiantly, "otherwise?"
"You will have to deal with the society," replied Manuel with grim
significance, and disappeared as suddenly as he had entered. The three
men left behind looked at one another.
"What does he mean by that threat?" asked Leighbourne uneasily.
"He means assassination, I fancy," said Torry coolly.
"Assassination!" cried Vass, staring up. "You mean----?
"Well," said the detective thoughtfully, "of course I may be wrong;
but it strikes me that this secret society to which Manuel refers, and
of which he apparently is the treasurer, is an association somewhat
after the fashion of the Italian Carbonari. That society was founded
for patriotic purposes tempered by assassination. Probably Manuel's
association is formed to overturn the present Government of his
beloved country. To do so funds are needed, and the ten thousand
pounds given to Mr. Grent are doubtless the moneys of the society.
Failing Mr. Grent, who is dead, the society represented by Manuel will
no doubt hold the bank responsible; and if the moneys are not
refunded, may attempt to kill those who represent the bank. Stay you,
Mr. Leighbourne, and Mr. Vass here."
"Bah!" cried Leighbourne, with a forced laugh. "You are trying to
frighten us. People don't do such things nowadays."
"Don't they?" rejoined Torry drily. "What about the Anarchists? But
I'll tell you one thing, gentlemen: whichever one of you is killed,
the image of a Blue Mummy will be found beside him."
"What?" cried Vass aghast--"do you think that this society you speak
of killed Mr. Grent?"
"Going by circumstantial evidence, I do."
"But for what reason?"
"Because I fancy Mr. Grent stole that money, and intended to bolt to
America with it."
"Impossible!" said Vass. "I tell you I saw the money in the safe after
he left."
"Well, if he did not take it himself, someone who had the key of the
safe must have done so, by his order."
The secretary rose with a very red face. "Do you mean to say that I
took the money?"
"I was not aware that I accused you, Mr. Vass," said Torry.
"But you do accuse me. Only Mr. Grent and myself can open that safe,
which is in his private room. I swear he did not take the money, and
on my oath I declare that I am guiltless. Don't you believe me, sir?"
cried Vass, turning appealingly towards Leighbourne.
"Yes, I believe you," replied the banker emphatically. "I am sure you
never took the money out of the safe."
"Would I be such a fool?" said Vass, turning again towards Torry. "The
money was in bank-notes, in two bundles of five thousand pounds each.
Twenty notes of five hundred pounds each--ten in one bundle, the same
number in the other. Manuel has the numbers of these notes, so is it
unlikely that I could do anything with bank-notes of such value of
which the numbers are known to their owner. I could not change a
single one without being found out, and then what benefit would the
theft do me. I am neither a fool nor a criminal, Mr. Torry."
The detective could not but be struck by this reasoning, which was
feasible enough. In the face of the known value and known numbers of
the notes, it was ridiculous to suspect Vass. To steal the money under
the circumstances would have been simply to court arrest, and the
detective, taking a common-sense view of the question, acquitted Vass
of the robbery.
"I believe you to be innocent," he said genially; "but who is guilty?"
"I do not know," said the secretary gloomily, "other than myself and
Mr. Grent, no one could have stolen these notes. Mr. Grent did not, I
did not; so I can't see how they have disappeared."
"Might not the key of the safe have been stolen?"
Vass produced a bunch of keys out of his pocket and selected one.
"Here is my key," said he holding it up. "It is never off this chain,
or out of my possession."
Torry nodded and crossed over to the desk on which Mr. Grent's bunch
of keys still lay. Amongst them he found a key similar in all respects
to that shown by Vass.
"So here is Mr. Grent's key," he said, comparing it with the
secretary's, "and safe on his chain, in his rooms which no one could
have entered since the murder. It is very strange. I don't exactly see
my way," he scratched his chin thoughtfully, then cried: "The hat!"
"What hat?" asked Leighbourne, amazed at the irrelevancy of the
remark.
"The hat of the dead woman which was made for Donna Maria Sandoval. I
must question her at once about that, and then, and then--well, we'll
see."