anotherworld, the passion with which she had danced to throw the obsessionoff.
"And I never noticed them at all," he said.
"Yet they were wonderful. The colour! The lustre! All the evening theytempted me. I was furious that a fat, coarse creature like that shouldhave such exquisite things. Oh, I was mad."
She covered her face suddenly with her hands and swayed. Calladinesprang towards her. But she held out her hand.
"No, I am all right." And though he asked her to sit down she wouldnot. "You remember when I stopped dancing suddenly?"
"Yes. You had something hidden under your foot?"
The girl nodded.
"Her key!" And under his breath Calladine uttered a startled cry.
For the first time since she had entered the room Joan Carew raisedher head and looked at him. Her eyes were full of terror, and with theterror was mixed an incredulity as though she could not possiblybelieve that that had happened which she knew had happened.
"A little Yale key," the girl continued. "I saw Mrs. Blumensteinlooking on the floor for something, and then I saw it shining on thevery spot. Mrs. Blumenstein's suite was on the same floor as mine, andher maid slept above. All the maids do. I knew that. Oh, it seemed tome as if I had sold my soul and was being paid."
Now Calladine understood what she had meant by her strangephrase--"the safe daylight."
"I went up to my little suite," Joan Carew continued. "I sat therewith the key burning through my glove until I had given her timeenough to fall asleep"--and though she hesitated before she spoke thewords, she did speak them, not looking at Calladine, and with ashudder of remorse making her confession complete. "Then I crept out.The corridor was dimly lit. Far away below the music was throbbing. Uphere it was as silent as the grave. I opened the door--her door. Ifound myself in a lobby. The suite, though bigger, was arranged likemine. I slipped in and closed the door behind me. I listened in thedarkness. I couldn't hear a sound. I crept forward to the door infront of me. I stood with my fingers on the handle and my heartbeating fast enough to choke me. I had still time to turn back. But Icouldn't. There were those pearls in front of my eyes, lustrous andwonderful. I opened the door gently an inch or so--and then--it allhappened in a second."
Joan Carew faltered. The night was too near to her, its memory toopoignant with terror. She shut her eyes tightly and cowered down in achair. With the movement her cloak slipped from her shoulders anddropped on to the ground. Calladine leaned forward with an exclamationof horror; Joan Carew started up.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Nothing. Go on."
"I found myself inside the room with the door shut behind me. I hadshut it myself in a spasm of terror. And I dared not turn round toopen it. I was helpless."
"What do you mean? She was awake?"
Joan Carew shook her head.
"There were others in the room before me, and on the sameerrand--men!"
Calladine drew back, his eyes searching the girl's face.
"Yes?" he said slowly.
"I didn't see them at first. I didn't hear them. The room was quitedark except for one jet of fierce white light which beat upon the doorof a safe. And as I shut the door the jet moved swiftly and the lightreached me and stopped. I was blinded. I stood in the full glare ofit, drawn up against the panels of the door, shivering, sick withfear. Then I heard a quiet laugh, and someone moved softly towards me.Oh, it was terrible! I recovered the use of my limbs; in a panic Iturned to the door, but I was too late. Whilst I fumbled with thehandle I was seized; a hand covered my mouth. I was lifted to thecentre of the room. The jet went out, the electric lights were turnedon. There were two men dressed as apaches in velvet trousers and redscarves, like a hundred others in the ballroom below, and both weremasked. I struggled furiously; but, of course, I was like a child intheir grasp. 'Tie her legs,' the man whispered who was holding me;'she's making too much noise.' I kicked and fought, but the other manstooped and tied my ankles, and I fainted."
Calladine nodded his head.
"Yes?" he said.
"When I came to, the lights were still burning, the door of the safewas open, the room empty; I had been flung on to a couch at the footof the bed. I was lying there quite free."
"Was the safe empty?" asked Calladine suddenly.
"I didn't look," she answered. "Oh!"--and she covered her facespasmodically with her hands. "I looked at the bed. Someone was lyingthere--under a sheet and quite still. There was a clock ticking in theroom; it was the only sound. I was terrified. I was going mad withfear. If I didn't get out of the room at once I felt that I shouldgo mad, that I should scream and bring everyone to find me alonewith--what was under the sheet in the bed. I ran to the door andlooked out through a slit into the corridor. It was still quite empty,and below the music still throbbed in the ballroom. I crept down thestairs, meeting no one until I reached the hall. I looked into theballroom as if I was searching for someone. I stayed long enough toshow myself. Then I got a cab and came to you."
A short silence followed. Joan Carew looked at her companion inappeal. "You are the only one I could come to," she added. "I know noone else."
Calladine sat watching the girl in silence. Then he asked, and hisvoice was hard:
"And is that all you have to tell me?"
"Yes."
"You are quite sure?"
Joan Carew looked at him perplexed by the urgency of his question. Shereflected for a moment or two.
"Quite."
Calladine rose to his feet and stood beside her.
"Then how do you come to be wearing this?" he asked, and he lifted achain of platinum and diamonds which she was wearing about hershoulders. "You weren't wearing it when you danced with me."
Joan Carew stared at the chain.
"No. It's not mine. I have never seen it before." Then a light cameinto her eyes. "The two men--they must have thrown it over my headwhen I was on the couch--before they went." She looked at it moreclosely. "That's it. The chain's not very valuable. They could spareit, and--it would accuse me--of what they did."
"Yes, that's very good reasoning," said Calladine coldly.
Joan Carew looked quickly up into his face.
"Oh, you don't believe me," she cried. "You think--oh, it'simpossible." And, holding him by the edge of his coat, she burst intoa storm of passionate denials.
"But you went to steal, you know," he said gently, and she answeredhim at once:
"Yes, I did, but not this." And she held up the necklace. "Should Ihave stolen this, should I have come to you wearing it, if I hadstolen the pearls, if I had"--and she stopped--"if my story were nottrue?"
Calladine weighed her argument, and it affected him.
"No, I think you wouldn't," he said frankly.
Most crimes, no doubt, were brought home because the criminal had madesome incomprehensibly stupid mistake; incomprehensibly stupid, thatis, by the standards of normal life. Nevertheless, Calladine wasinclined to believe her. He looked at her. That she should havemurdered was absurd. Moreover, she was not making a parade of remorse,she was not playing the unctuous penitent; she had yielded to atemptation, had got herself into desperate straits, and was at herwits' ends how to escape from them. She was frank about herself.
Calladine looked at the clock. It was nearly five o'clock in themorning, and though the music could still be heard from the ballroomin the Semiramis, the night had begun to wane upon the river.
"You must go back," he said. "I'll walk with you."
They crept silently down the stairs and into the street. It was only astep to the Semiramis. They met no one until they reached the Strand.There many, like Joan Carew in masquerade, were standing about, orwalking hither and thither in search of carriages and cabs. The wholestreet was in a bustle, what with drivers shouting and people comingaway.
"You can slip in unnoticed," said Calladine as he looked into thethronged courtyard. "I'll telephone to you in the morning."
"You will?" she cried eagerly, clinging for a mome
nt to his arm.
"Yes, for certain," he replied. "Wait in until you hear from me. I'llthink it over. I'll do what I can."
"Thank you," she said fervently.
He watched her scarlet cloak flitting here and there in the crowduntil it vanished through the doorway. Then, for the second time, hewalked back to his chambers, while the morning crept up the river fromthe sea.
* * * * *
This was the story which Calladine told in Mr. Ricardo's library. Mr.Ricardo heard it out with varying emotions. He began with a thrill ofexpectation like a man on a
The Affair at the Semiramis Hotel Page 3