THE MARRIAGE
It certainly was not an easy task to come to a conclusion about Miss
Pearl. Ralph took her for a beautiful, amiable, stupid woman,
narrowed by her early training into a perfect specimen of what a wife
should be--that is, a wife to an ordinary British Philistine. But Sir
Joseph was not a prim, conventional man after the style of a suburban
clerk, but a clever individual who knew how to use his brains. He
might certainly admire Miss Pearl for her calm maternal beauty,
but Shawe was satisfied that he could not possibly tolerate such a
milk-and-water character. Miss Pearl was more suitable to be the wife
of a Sunday-school teacher than the second Lady Branwin.
And this consideration brought the barrister round to wonder if Miss
Pearl had not been playing a very clever game with him. He had been
with her for quite an hour, and all the time she had been so taken up
with telling him about herself that he had not been able to
cross-examine her. In a dexterous manner she had contrived to keep him
at arm's length, and he left the quiet Bloomsbury house about as wise
as when he entered it.
Considerably puzzled over the present aspect of affairs, the young man
sought out Perry Toat, and described his visit to Miss Pearl. He also
repeated what Audrey had overheard as passing between Badoura and Eddy
Vail.
Miss Toat listened in silence, and her shrewd little eyes twinkled.
"It's really a most puzzling case," she said at length. "Of course,
this clue of the scent is a very slight one to go by. Sir Joseph is
fond of this especial kind of cloth, and probably asked Miss Pearl to
favour him by having a dress made of the same material. But Eddy Vail
might also have a suit of the cloth, and he might be the person who
lurked in the passage."
"I think he must be guilty myself," said Ralph, insistently, "for if
he was innocent he certainly would not have altered the clock."
"Quite so. Let us consider the matter. Now, my theory--"
"I beg your pardon, Miss Toat," interrupted Shawe, rather crossly,
"but I am a trifle tired of your theories; they lead to nothing."
Miss Toat was not at all put out. "Oh, to theorise is the only way to
get at the truth of the matter. One may have a dozen theories, and
then can abandon each one in turn as it seems improbable. Let me
conduct this business in my own way, Mr. Shawe."
"Well"--Ralph resigned himself to what seemed to him to be a futile
discussion--"let us have your latest theory."
"Bearing in mind what Badoura said about the clock being wrong, and
Eddy Vail being the husband of Madame Coralie, I think he is the sole
person who had any reason to have a skeleton key made for the door in
the wall of the court. Probably he wished to enter and leave the house
at his convenience without bothering his wife."
"But what would be the use of his entering the court," objected Shawe,
"seeing that he could not get into the house? The door was always
locked."
"Yes, and the key was usually on a nail in the still-room," said Perry
Toat, cleverly. "I found that out when I was staying at the Pink Shop
for treatment. Eddy Vail could easily have taken that key when he
chose, and have opened the inner door; then he got a key made for the
outer door, and thus would be free of the house."
"But this is all imagination, Miss Toat."
"I am only constructing a theory on the evidence. Let us admit that
things are as I say. Well, then, on the night Eddy Vail either had
both keys in his pocket or only one--that of the outer door. For some
reason quite unconnected with Lady Branwin's stay--since he could not
have known of it--he entered the court at the time Madame Coralie was
in the bedroom with her patient. Looking through the window he would
see the diamonds produced, which Madame Coralie--as you declare--says
that Lady Branwin gave her. Madame Coralie put Lady Branwin to bed,
and the diamonds were replaced in the red bag under the pillow. Then
Madame Coralie left the room, say at ten minutes to eight o'clock,
whereupon Eddy Vail scrambled in at the window and strangled the
woman. He takes the jewels out of the bag and puts them into his
pocket; then, to lose no time, he leaves by the bedroom door, and runs
up the stairs to the still-room, arriving there at five minutes to the
hour, in order to put back the clock to half-past seven. Thirty odd
minutes later Madame Coralie, who has been in the shop, comes up, and
Eddy draws her attention to the time as five minutes past eight. But,
as we now know, it is really close on half-past eight. Madame Coralie
goes down at once to see Miss Branwin, to say that her mother will
stop for the night, and this will bring the time to that mentioned by
Miss Branwin as the hour she arrived at Walpole Lane on her way to the
theatre. Afterwards Eddy Vail goes out by the street door, and returns
to the court to drop the label and to leave the key in the lock of the
court wall door, so as to encourage the idea of burglars. What do you
think of that?"
"It's a very feasible theory," said Ralph, after a pause, "but it
falls to the ground in the face of Madame Coralie's admission that
Lady Branwin gave her the jewels."
"It only makes her an accomplice after the fact," said Perry Toat,
cheerfully.
Ralph shook his head. "She would not approve of the murder of her own
sister, Miss Toat," he said gently.
"Yes, you hinted something about the two women being sisters. I forget
exactly what you said, as I have been so busy with the case of Colonel
Ilse and his missing daughter. I am trying to find a photograph of the
hospital nurse who stole the child, you know. Tell me exactly the
relationship and all about it. I shall listen carefully."
Shawe related all that he knew, and the little woman nodded her head.
"This, of course, complicates matters. Still, it does not exonerate
Madame Coralie. She is not a straight woman."
"What do you mean?"
"Never mind. Since you are to marry Miss Branwin, my advice to you is
to keep her away from Madame Coralie. I know something about her."
"Something bad?"
"Very bad."
"What is it?" asked Shawe, with considerable curiosity.
"Oh, don't ask me just now," said Perry Toat, impatiently. "I shall
tell you when I am more certain. Meanwhile, go and get your special
licence and marry Miss Branwin. The sooner she is out of that Pink
Shop the better."
"I agree with you," said Ralph, drily, as he stood up to take his
leave; "but while I am on my honeymoon, I wish you to examine into the
truth of Miss Pearl's statement that she was asleep the whole time.
Also, as to the reason why Sir Joseph was in Walpole Lane on that
night."
Perry Toat looked at him suddenly. "You have a theory also?"
she said sharply.
"Well"--Ralph drew on his gloves slowly--"it seems to me that Sir
Joseph, who knew that his wife was staying at the Pink Shop, might
have enlisted the services of Eddy Vail, and have borrowed that key
you mention. He might have entered the court and have strangled his
wife, while sending Eddy Vail upstairs to put the clock wrong. He
could easily have strangled his wife and have left again by the court
door to come round to Walpole Lane. Thus he would be able to prove an
alibi."
"I don't think so," said Miss Toat, thoughtfully; "for, although the
clock in the still-room was wrong, Mrs. Mellop, who saw him, knew the
correct time. She would know that he was in the lane at half-past
eight and not at eight, which was the time Lady Branwin was strangled.
I don't think much of your theory, Mr. Shawe. As well say that Miss
Pearl, learning that her rival was in the house, might have crept down
to kill her, wearing that Harris tweed frock you mentioned."
"She might have done so," said Ralph, bluntly; "but I am certain of
one thing, that either she or Sir Joseph were in that passage about
nine o'clock when Parizade came down for her lover's present."
"In that case Sir Joseph is innocent, as he had left the house," said
Miss Toat, triumphantly. "Well, well, it's all theory, as you say. But
one thing is certain, that Eddy Vail knows something or he would not
have provided himself with an alibi by putting the clock wrong. I
shall see him."
Ralph shook his head. "He won't speak."
"Oh!"--Perry Toat looked wise--"I shall frighten him and Badoura into
speaking. Go away on your honeymoon, and don't worry. I shall attend
to the matter during your absence."
The young barrister thought that this was a very fair division of
labour, and took his departure. There was no difficulty, now that he
had ample funds, in procuring a special licence. With this in his
pocket he went to the vicar of a Kensington church and arranged for
the marriage to take place next day at a certain hour. Having settled
this important point he wrote a note to Lady Sanby, and then took his
way to the Pink Shop. It was necessary to see Audrey in order to
explain what he had done. After some difficulty Madame Coralie agreed
that he should speak to Audrey in her presence in the Pink Shop, and
sent the four assistants upstairs to the still-room, so that the
lovers might converse undisturbed.
The hour was eight o'clock, and the shop was closed. Only a
pink-shaded lamp hanging in one of the alcoves shed a rosy light
over the anxious faces of Audrey and Ralph, on which--very
naturally--recent events had left their marks. Near them stood Madame
Coralie, wearing her yashmak. She looked a weird figure in the
delicate light, muffled up and swathed in her Turkish dress with many
veils. Her eyes watched the pair attentively, and she signified her
approval of the barrister's scheme for an immediate marriage.
"It is the very best thing you can do," she said, in her harsh voice;
but there was a catch in her voice as she spoke. "It will never do for
Audrey to stay with me here, as people are talking about the shop. Not
that there is anything wrong," said Madame Coralie, drawing herself up
proudly, "for I have always kept it highly respectable. But I think
that Audrey should go."
"It's so sudden," faltered the girl.
"We cannot help that," rejoined Ralph, soothing her; "your father has,
so to speak, forced our hand. At present you are in a very awkward
position, if it were known that you have left your father and taken
refuge with Madame Coralie. Even the excuse for figure-treatment will
not serve with some women--especially venomous cats like Mrs. Mellop.
But as my wife--"
"Your wife!" said Audrey, under her breath. "Oh! Ralph, I should love
to be your wife. But I have no clothes."
"Yes you have," said her aunt, suddenly. "Your father sent all your
boxes this evening. You see, he is determined that you shall not
re-enter your old home, my dear. Better become Mrs. Shawe without
further delay."
"Audrey, do say yes," urged the young man, impatiently. "You must see
in what a difficult position you are placed."
"Well, then, yes," said the girl, and Ralph kissed her.
So it was arranged, and Ralph took a long farewell of the girl who was
to be his wife on the morrow. Madame Coralie accompanied him to the
door. "I must ask you to be kind to Audrey, Mr. Shawe," she said
softly; "make up to her for all the unhappiness she has undergone."
"Audrey and I will be as happy as the day is long," said Shawe, with a
gay laugh, for he felt that a weight was removed from his mind by the
girl's reluctant consent to the ceremony.
The next day Ralph arrived at the Kensington church with Lady Sanby,
and shortly afterwards Audrey, quietly dressed, made her appearance,
to be eagerly welcomed by the fairy godmother. Lady Sanby kissed her
fondly, and tears came into the poor girl's eyes, for she valued
sympathy and had received very little of it during her short life.
"Child, child, this will never do," said Lady Sanby, wiping away the
tears with her own handkerchief. "A bride must not weep; it's
unlucky."
"Nothing can be unlucky while I am with Ralph," sobbed Audrey; "but if
you knew, Lady Sanby--"
"My dear, I know everything. Ralph has told me all. And now you had
better get married at once, as time is passing."
Shawe returned at this moment, and then the vicar made his appearance
in his surplice. It was an exceedingly quiet wedding. Lady Sanby gave
the bride away, and the verger was one of the witnesses to the
ceremony. A few idlers had, as usual, collected in the body of the
church, and commented on the good looks of the bride, but the female
portion of the idlers admired the handsome bridegroom. When the knot
was safely tied Ralph kissed his wife, and this example was followed
by Lady Sanby.
"And now, dear, you can call me grannie," said the old dame, which was
a wonderful mark of favour to be shown, as Audrey well knew.
But Lady Sanby's kindness did not stop here. She took the young couple
to a fashionable restaurant and gave them a wedding-breakfast, and
finally drove them in her motor to the railway station, whence they
departed for a quiet seaside town on the south coast. When the train
started, and the married pair were alone, Audrey threw herself into
Ralph's arms.
"Oh, darling, I am happy at last," she said. "Let us forget the past."
But although Ralph kissed her and agreed, he knew that Perry Toat was
yet working at the Pink Shop mystery.