PHANTOM GOLD
Vera had entirely recovered her self-possession by this time. She was
able to regard the men coolly and critically. There was nothing about
them that suggested anything wrong or underhand; on the contrary, the
girl rather liked their appearance. All the same it was a strange and
unique experience; and though Vera had been through a series of trials
and tribulations, she thrilled now as she recognised how near she had
been to the man who was thus running himself into the hands of justice.
"But how can you know anything about me?" she said. "You surely do not
mean to say that you suspect--"
"Not at all, miss," Egan said, civilly. "Only, you see, it is always our
business to know a great deal more than people imagine. I hope you won't
suppose that we are going to take any advantage of our position here, or
that we want you to betray Mr. Fenwick into our hands; but since we have
been unfortunate enough to be discovered by you, we will ask you to go so
far as to say nothing to Mr. Fenwick. If you tell him, you will be doing
considerable harm to a great many deserving people who have suffered
terribly at that man's hands. I think you understand."
Vera understood only too well, and yet her delicate sense of honor was
slightly disturbed at the idea of continuing there without warning
Fenwick of the danger that overshadowed him. Personally, she would have
liked to have told him exactly how he stood, and given him the
opportunity to get away. Perhaps Egan saw something of this in Vera's
face, for he went on to speak again.
"I know it isn't very nice for you, miss," he said, "and I am not
surprised to see you hesitate; but seeing that Mr. Fenwick has done you
as much harm as anybody else--"
"How do you know that?" Vera exclaimed.
"Well, you see, it is our business to know everything. I feel quite
certain that on reflection you will do nothing to defeat the ends
of justice."
"No," Vera said, thoughtfully. "In any case, it cannot much matter. You
are here to arrest Mr. Fenwick, and you probably know where he is to be
found at the present moment."
"There you are wrong, miss," Grady said. "We are not in a position at
present to lay hands on our man. We came here prepared to take a few
risks--but I don't suppose you would care to hear anything about our
methods. It will be a great favor to us if you will retire to your room
and stay there till morning."
Vera went off without any further ado, feeling that once more the current
of events had come between her and the sleep that she so sorely needed.
But, in spite of everything, she had youth and health on her side, and
within a few minutes she was fast asleep. It was fairly late when she
came down the next morning, and she was rather surprised to find that
Fenwick had not finished his breakfast. He sat there sullen and
heavy-eyed, and had no more than a grunt for Vera in response to her
morning greeting. He turned over his food with savage disapproval.
Evidently, from the look of him, he had not only been up late overnight,
but he had also had more wine than was good for him.
"Who can eat rubbish like this?" he growled. "The stuff isn't fit to feed
a dog with. Look at this bacon."
"You can expect nothing else," Vera said, coldly. "If you choose to try
and run a large house like this with practically no servants beyond a
caretaker and his wife, you must put up with the consequences. You are an
exceedingly clever man, but you seem to have overlooked one fact, and
that is the amount of gossip you are providing for the neighbors. It
isn't as if we were still in town, where the man next door knows nothing
of you and cares less. Here people are interested in their neighbors. It
will cause quite a scandal when it becomes known that you are occupying
Lord Merton's house with nothing more than a number of questionable men.
As far as I can see, you are far worse off here than if you had stayed in
London. I may be wrong, of course."
"I begin to think you are quite right," Fenwick grunted. "I must see to
this. It will never do for all these chattering magpies to pry into my
business. You had better go into Canterbury this morning and see if you
can't arrange for a proper staff of servants to come. Well, what's the
matter now?"
One of the men had come into the room with a telegram in his hand. He
pitched it in a contemptuous way upon the table and withdrew, whistling
unconcernedly. The man's manner was so flippant and familiar that Vera
flushed with annoyance.
"I wish you would keep your subordinates a little more under your
control," she said. "One hardly expects a man of your wealth to be
treated in this way by his clerks."
But Fenwick was not listening. His brows were knotted in a sullen frown
over the telegram that he held in his hand. He clutched the flimsy paper
and threw it with a passionate gesture into the fire. Vera could see that
his yellow face had grown strangely white, and that his coarse lips were
trembling. He rose from the table, pushing his plate away from him.
"I've got to go to town at once," he said. "How strange it is that
everything seems to have gone wrong of late! I shall be back again in
time for dinner, and I shall be glad if you are good enough to see that I
have something fit to eat. Perhaps you had better telephone to town for
some servants. It doesn't much matter what you pay them as long as they
are good."
Fenwick walked rapidly from the room, and a few moments later Vera could
see his car moving swiftly down the drive. On the whole, she was not
sorry to have Fenwick out of the house. She was pleased, also, to know
that he had made up his mind over the servant question. Already the house
was beginning to look shabby and neglected; in the strong morning
sunshine Vera could see the dust lying everywhere. Her womanly instincts
rebelled against this condition of things; she was not satisfied until
she had set the telephone in motion and settled the matter as far as the
domestic staff was concerned.
Then a sudden thought flashed into her mind. Here was the opportunity
for examining the little room where Fenwick and his satellites had
been busy the previous evening. Vera had not failed to notice the fact
that three of the men had gone off with Fenwick in his car, so that,
in all probability, they meant to accompany him to town. If this
turned out to be correct, then there was only one man to be accounted
for. Possibly with the assistance of Gerald, the fourth man might be
got out of the way.
It was nearly three o'clock in the afternoon before Vera managed to see
her husband. Eagerly and rapidly she told him all that had taken place
the previous evening, though she was rather surprised to find him
manifesting less astonishment than she had expected. Venner smiled when
Vera mentioned this.
"Oh, that's no new thing to me," he said. "I saw all that going on in
your suite of rooms at the Great Empire Hotel, though I haven't the least
notion what it all means. I should have thought that your interesting
guardian was manufacturing counterfeit coins. But we managed to get hold
of one of them, and a jeweller pronounced at once that it was a genuine
sovereign. Still, there is no question of the fact that some underhand
business is going on, and I am quite ready to assist you in finding out
what it is. The point is whether the coast is clear or not."
"There is only one man left behind." Vera explained. "All the rest have
gone to London with Mr. Fenwick, who received a most disturbing telegram
at breakfast this morning. Of course, the old caretaker and his wife
count for nothing; they are quite innocent parties, and merely regard
their stay here as temporary, pending the arrival of our staff of
servants."
"In that case, I don't see why it shouldn't be managed," Venner said.
"You had better go back to the house, and I will call and see you. There
is not the slightest reason why I shouldn't give my own name, nor is
there the slightest reason why you should not show me over the house when
I come. I daresay all this sounds a bit cheap, but one cannot be too
careful in dealing with these people."
It was all arranged exactly as Venner had suggested, and a little later
Vera was shaking hands with her own husband as if he were a perfect
stranger. They proceeded presently to walk up the grand staircase and
along the corridor, Vera doing the honors of the place and speaking in a
manner calculated to deceive anybody who was listening. She stopped
presently and clutched Venner's arm excitedly. She pointed to a doorway
leading to a little room down the steps at the end of the corridor.
"There," she whispered, "that is the room, and, as far as I can see, it
is absolutely empty. What do you say to going in there now? The coast
seems to be quite clear."
Venner hesitated for a moment; it would be just as well, he thought,
to err on the side of caution. A casual glance from the corridor
disclosed nothing, except that on the table there stood a bottle
apparently containing wine, for a glass of some dark ruby liquid stood
beside it. Very rapidly Venner ran down the flight of stairs and
looked into the room.
"There is nobody there for the moment," he said, "but that bulldog of
Fenwick's can't be far off, for there is a half-smoked cigarette on the
end of the table which has not yet gone out. I think I can see my way now
to working this thing without any trouble or danger. Do you happen to
know if that rheumatic old caretaker uses snuff?"
"Really, I don't," Vera said with a smile. "But what possible connection
is there between the caretaker and his snuff--?"
"Never mind about that at present. Go down and ask the old man for his
snuff box. By the look of him, I am quite sure he indulges in the habit.
Tell him you want to kill some insects in the conservatory. Tell him
anything, so long as you get possession of the box for a few minutes."
Vera flew off on her errand. She was some moments before she could make
the old man understand what she needed; then, with the air of one who
parts with some treasure, he handed over to her a little tortoiseshell
box, remarking, at the same time, that he had had it for the last sixty
years and would not part with it for anything. A moment later, Vera was
back again at the end of the corridor. Venner had not moved, a sure sign
that no one had approached in the meantime. Taking the box from Vera's
hand, and leaving her to guard the corridor, he stepped into the little
room, where he proceeded to stir a little pellet of snuff into the glass
of wine. This done, he immediately hurried Vera away to the other end of
the corridor.
"I think that will be all right now," he said. "We have only got to wait
till our man comes back and give him a quarter of an hour. Snuff is a
very strong drug, and within a few minutes of his finishing his wine he
will be sound asleep on the floor."
It all fell out exactly as Venner had prophesied. The man came back
presently, passing Vera and her companion without the slightest suspicion
of anything being wrong. Then he turned into the little room and closed
the door behind him. Half an hour passed before Vera knocked at the door
on some frivolous pretext, but no answer came from the other side. She
knocked again and again, after which she ventured to open the door. The
wine-glass was empty, a half-finished cigarette smouldered on the floor,
and, by the side of it, lay the man in a deep and comatose sleep. Venner
fairly turned him over with his foot, but the slumbering form gave no
sign. The thing was safe now.
"We needn't worry ourselves for an hour or so," Venner said. "And now we
have to see if we can discover the secrets of the prison house. Evidently
nothing is going on at present. I should like to know what the table is
for. It is not unlike a modern gas stove--I mean a gas stove used for
cooking purposes, and here is a parcel on the table, just the same sort
of parcel that the mysterious new sovereigns were wrapped up in."
"Oh, let me see," Vera said eagerly as she pulled the lid off the box.
"See, this stuff inside is just like asbestos, and sure enough here is a
layer of sovereigns on the top. How bright and new they look. I have
never seen gold so attractive before. I--"
Vera suddenly ceased to speak, and a sharp cry of pain escaped her as she
dropped to the floor one of the coins which she had taken in her hand.
She was regarding her thumb and forefinger now with some dismay, for they
were scorched and swollen.
"Those coins are red hot," she said. "You try--but look out you don't
get burned."
Surely enough, the coins were almost at white heat; so much so, that a
wax match placed on the edge of one flared instantly. Venner looked
puzzled; he could not make it out. There was no fire in the room, and
apparently no furnace or oven in which the metal could have been heated.
Then he suddenly recollected that Vera must be in pain.
"My poor child," he said. "I am so sorry. You must go down to the old
housekeeper at once and get her to put something on your hand. Meanwhile,
I will stay here and investigate, though I don't expect for a moment that
I shall make any further discoveries."
Vera's hand was dressed at length, and the pain of the burn had somewhat
abated when Venner came down the stairs again. He shook his head in
response to the questioning glance in Vera's eyes.
"Absolutely nothing," he said. "I found a safe there let into the wall,
but then, you see, the safe has been built for years, and no doubt has
been used by Lord Merton to store his plate and other valuables of that
kind. It is just possible, of course, that Fenwick has the key of it, and
that the safe had been cleared out for his use. I am afraid we shall
never solve this little puzzle until Fenwick is in the hands of those
detectives who gave me such a fright last night."
"But there must have been some means of heating those coins," Vera
protested. "They must have come straight from a furnace."
"Of course," Venner said. "The trouble is where to find the furnace. I
am perfectly sure, too, that the sovereigns were genuine. Now what on
earth can a man gain by taking current coins of the realm and making
them red hot? The only chance of a solution is for me to find Egan and
Grady and tell them of my discovery. I shall be at the same spot
to-morrow afternoon at the same time, and if I find anything out I will
let you know."
There was nothing more for it than this, whereupon Venner went away and
Vera returned thoughtfully to the dining-room. She was just a little bit
in doubt as to whether the man upstairs would guess the trick played upon
him, but that she had to risk.