The Last Stroke: A Detective Story

by Lawrence L. Lynch

  CHAPTER XV.

  REBELLION.

  May had passed, and June roses were in late bloom. The city was horridwith the warm sun-filtered air after a summer shower, and Robert Brierlylooked pale and languid as he stepped from an elevator, in one of thegreat department houses wherein Ferrars had his bachelor quarters, andwalked slowly to his door.

  Possibly it was the warmth of a very warm June, or there may have beenother causes. At any rate Frank Ferrars' face wore an almost haggardlook in spite of the welcoming smile with which he held out his hand togreet his friend, for friends these two had grown to be during the pastweeks. Friends warm and true and strong, in spite of the fact that themystery surrounding the death of Charlie Brierly remained as much of amystery as on the day when foolish Peter Kramer led the detective to thescene of his ghostly encounter.

  There were dark lines beneath the keen gray eyes, which, Rob Brierlyhad declared, "compelled a man's trust," and the smooth, shaven cheekwas almost hectic, symptoms which, in Ferrars, denoted, among otherthings, loss of sleep.

  There was a moment of silence, after the men had exchanged greetings,and it seemed, almost, that each was covertly studying the other, andthen Brierly tossed down his straw hat, and pulling a chair directly infront of that in which the detective lounged, said, abruptly:

  "I shouldn't like to quarrel with you, Ferrars, but I've something on mymind, and I'm here to have it out with you."

  "Oh! Then I am in it?" the detective spoke nonchalantly, carelesslyalmost, and as the other seemed hesitating for a word, he added: "Giveus the first round, old man. I'm apprehensive."

  "H--m! You look it. Ferrars, do you know that for weeks, ever since myreturn from Glenville, in fact, I have been under constantsurveillance?"

  "Constant sur----. Excuse me, it's not polite to repeat, Brierly, butwhat do you mean?"

  "What I say. It's plain enough, somebody is watching me, following meday and night."

  "Pshaw! You don't mean that, man!"

  "But I do. And that is not all," he leaned forward and fixed his eyesupon those of his _vis-a-vis_ as if watching for the effect of hiswords. "I have been slowly discovering that I am beingcontrolled--constrained--in many ways."

  "Upon my word!" Ferrars was leaning back in his chair with his face amask, expressing nothing but grave attention. "Make it plainer,Brierly."

  "I will. I'll make it so plain that there will be no room formisunderstanding. When I first came back from Glenville, I did not goout much, especially evenings, but when I did, I began to fancy that Iwas spied upon, followed, and, after a time, I became sure of it."

  "Stop! When did you observe this first?"

  "I think it was on the third night after my return. I was going down tothe Lyceum Club rooms, when something caused me to glance at a fellow onthe other side of the street. You know my eyes are good!"

  "Unusually so."

  "Well, I came out in a very short time, alone, and the same fellow waslounging so close to the entrance that I recognised him at once."

  "A bungler, evidently."

  "Perhaps. Well, I met two men whom I know, just outside, and theydragged me back with them. When at last I left the place, I started towalk home, and when I got upon the quieter streets I soon becameconscious of some one keeping so evenly opposite me across the street,that I began to watch, and as the fellow glided, as quickly as possibleunder a street lamp, I recognised the same man."

  "And you have seen him since?"

  "Himself or another. A disguise is easy at night. I have been watched,at any rate, and followed again and again."

  "Ah! And could you imagine his motive?"

  "No." A look that was almost of anger crossed Brierly's face. "But Ihave wondered if it was the same as yours, and Myers, when you havecontrived to keep me from going here and there, or doing this or that,unless accompanied by one or the other of you two."

  He bent forward again after this utterance. His eyes seemed to challengean answer.

  But it did not come. Ferrars only sat with that look of grave inquirystill upon his face. He knew the man before him.

  "Ferrars," exclaimed Brierly, when he saw that no answer, no defence,was to be made, "will you look me in the face and say that you, andMyers also, have not connived to keep me under your eyes? to accompanyme when that was practicable, and to prevent my going when it was not?I can recall several occasions when----"

  He stopped short, checked in his utterance by a sudden, subtle change inthe face of Ferrars, who had not stirred so much as an eyelid, but whospoke at once quietly, but with a certain tone of finality, of decision.

  "Brierly, do you believe that James Myers is your friend, in the fullmeaning of the word?"

  "I do! It is not that I doubt, or that----"

  "And do you believe," went on Ferrars, putting aside his protest with aperemptory gesture: "do you believe that, while thus far I seem to havefailed in unravelling the mystery in which your brother's death seemsenshrouded, I have given it my most faithful study, my time, thought,effort and labour? That, in short, I have been true to your interest atall times?"

  "I know it. You have been all that and more. You must hear me, Ferrars.And I beg that you will answer me. Why am I watched, thwarted, cajoled?Why do you and Myers fear to let me out of your sight? A few weeks agoyou found, or seemed to find, your chief interest in Glenville; youlooked for clues, for developments, there; and yet, you have not visitedGlenville since you left it so suddenly. Even your own personal interesthas not drawn you there for a single day."

  "By my 'personal interest' you mean what, Brierly?"

  "You know what I mean. Pardon me, and do not misunderstand me. I couldnot fail to see that you were interested in Mrs. Jamieson, and why not?"While Brierly spoke, the detective arose and began to pace the floorwith lowered eyelids and slow tread. Brierly watching him, was silent amoment, then he seemed to pull himself together and to speak withenforced calmness. "Ferrars, do you know what thought has takenpossession of my brain until I cannot shake it off?"

  "Assuredly not," going on with his promenade. "But I shall be glad tohear."

  "I have begun to fear--yes, to fear--that you have found some reason forsuspecting me, and that your horribly acute logic has even caused Myersto doubt too."

  "Man!" Ferrars swung about and suddenly faced him. "Much meditation hassurely made you mad. Now, in heaven's name, so far as may be, let usunderstand each other. First, you are utterly wrong."

  "Ah!"

  "Next, you speak of Mrs. Jamieson, and of my 'personal interest.' Iadmit, willingly, that I am interested in that lady. But my personalfeelings and interests must be subservient for a time to your business."

  "Pardon me."

  "And now, I did leave Glenville to follow you, and see that you did notspoil my plans by any rashness."

  "You are talking a puzzle!"

  "Let me talk it out then, for you have forced my hand. But for this Ishould have gone on as before. And I did not dream that Mr. Myers and Iwere playing our game so stupidly, so openly; nor that you, owing toyour present preoccupation, would prove so astute."

  "You have not bungled, be sure of that. You have been most wonderfullykeen and clever, but it was this very preoccupation, as you call it, myabnormal sensitiveness, in fact, which made me study your every word andset me searching for its hidden meaning; and so I could not fail to seethat you were handling me, hedging me about, for some purpose."

  "Ah! You have said the word, Brierly." Ferrars resumed his seat oppositethe other, and his tone became once more composed. "We were trying to'hedge you about,' to put up a wall between you and the assassin whokilled your brother. Wait! Let me say it all. It is little enough. Doyou remember telling me of an 'assault' upon your brother, made byfootpads, not long before he came to Glenville?"

  "Yes."

  "It was that which gave me my first real clue. It confirmed one of thefew theories that seem to fit, or cover, the case so far as known; butit wanted confirmation. I found nothing in Glenvi
lle that was in any wayopposed to this theory which I was growing to believe in, but, on theother hand, I found nothing there to strengthen it. When you left thatplace, I meant to follow soon. Meantime I had confided my theory to Mr.Myers, who promised not to lose sight of you before I should arrive."

  "But why? Why?"

  "Because I then believed, as I do now, that that attack upon yourbrother last summer was the first act in the tragedy which has robbedyou of him. I believed the plot to be far-reaching. It may be a case ofvengeance, a family feud. The motive is yet to be discovered, but I willadmit to you that I have had, from the first, a reason to think that theaffair has not yet ended; and so, as soon as I could, I followed you totown. It was well that I did so. Before I had been your shadowforty-eight hours, I had proof that you were being otherwise watched andfollowed."

  "Great heavens! And that is why----" He stopped short and bowed hishead.

  "That is why Myers and I have been such officious friends, why we haveadvised, remarked, and why I have tried to trace to his lair the man whohas been your very frequent shadow."

  "And you think he is----"

  "The assassin himself or his tool."

  "Good heavens! And you cannot guess his motive?"

  "We might guess, of course, half a dozen motives. What I have hoped tofind was something, some fact in your family history, your father'slife, or your mother's, perhaps, that would fit into one of theseguesses or theories, and make of it a probability."

  And then the two went all over the array of possible reasons andmotives, and Brierly again protested his lack of any knowledge whichmight serve as the feeblest of guides to the truth.

  "There's one other thing," said Brierly, at last. "I want to know if thenew man, whom Myers took on soon after you came to town, is one of yoursleuths? He has annoyed me more than once by his persistent attentions."

  Ferrars smiled. "I never supposed you a reader of the penny dreadful,Brierly," he said, "and 'sleuth' is a word which makes the actualdetective smile, and which is not known to the professional vocabulary.Hicks is my man; yes. And he has followed you by day and night when youhave not had the company of either Myers or myself."

  Robert Brierly threw back his head and folded his arms. After a momentof silence he got up and stood before the detective.

  "Ferrars," he said, "I owe you and my absent friend an abject apologyfor my unworthy suspicions, my impatience under restraint. And now, Ibeg of you, let this end. I am warned, and I do not think myself a rashman. I believe I can protect myself, and how can I endure the thoughtthat I must be hedged about by this constant guardianship, which maylast indefinitely? Withdraw Hicks, and give your own valuable time tobetter things. Rather than go about knowing myself so fenced in andguarded, I will lock myself up in the attic, and remain a recluse andinvisible. Heavens, man! am I so stupid or cowardly a man not to be ableto cope with an enemy whom I know to be in ambush at my very heels?"