Reggie was fifteen years hersenior, and I thirteen years older than she, I believe she regarded bothof us as big brothers.
Our friendship had commenced when, finding Burton Blair, the seafaringtramp, practically-starving as he was, we clubbed together from oursmall means and put her to a finishing school at Bournemouth. To allowso young and delicate a girl to tramp England aimlessly in search ofsome vague and secret information which seemed to be her erraticfather's object, was, we decided, an utter impossibility; therefore,following that night of our first meeting at Helpstone, Burton and hisdaughter remained our guests for a week, and, after many consultationsand some little economies, we were at last successful in placing Mabelat school, a service for which we later received her heartfelt thanks.
She was utterly worn out, poor child. Poverty had already set itsindelible stamp upon her sweet face, and her beauty was beginning tofade beneath that burden of disappointment and erratic wandering when wehad so fortunately discovered her, and been able to rescue her from thenecessity of tramping footsore over those endless, pitiless highways.
Contrary to our expectation it was quite a long time before we couldinduce Blair to allow his daughter to return to school, for, as a matterof fact, both father and daughter were entirely devoted to one another.Nevertheless, in the end we triumphed, and later, when the bluff,bearded wayfarer came to his own, he did not forget to return thanks tous in a very substantial manner. Indeed, our present improvedcircumstances were due to him, for not only had he handed a cheque toReggie sufficient to pay the whole of the liabilities of the CannonStreet lace business, but to me, on my birthday three years ago, he hadsent, enclosed in a cheap, silver cigarette case, a draft upon hisbankers for a sum sufficient to provide me with a very comfortablelittle annuity.
Burton Blair never forgot his friends--neither did he ever forgive anunkind action. Mabel was his idol, his only real confidante, and yet itseemed more than strange that she knew absolutely nothing of themysterious source of his colossal income.
Together we sat for over an hour in that great drawing-room, the verysplendour of which spoke mystery. Mrs. Percival, the pleasant,middle-aged widow of a naval surgeon, who was Mabel's chaperon andcompanion, entered, but left us quickly, much upset by the tragic news.Presently, when I told Mabel of my promise to her father, a slight blushsuffused her pale cheeks.
"It is really awfully good of you to trouble over my affairs, Mr.Greenwood," she said, glancing at me, and then dropping her eyesmodestly. "I suppose in future I shall have to consider you as myguardian," and she laughed lightly, twisting her ring around her finger.
"Not as your legal guardian," I answered. "Your father's lawyers will,no doubt, act in that capacity, but rather as your protector and yourfriend."
"Ah!" she replied sadly, "I suppose I shall require both, now that poordad is dead."
"I have been your friend for over five years, Mabel, and I hope you willstill allow me to carry out my promise to your father," I said, standingbefore her and speaking in deep earnestness.
"There must, however, at the outset be a clear and distinctunderstanding between us. Therefore permit me for one moment to speakto you candidly, as a man should to a woman who is his friend. You,Mabel, are young, and--well, you are, as you know, very good-looking--"
"No, really, Mr. Greenwood," she cried, interrupting me and blushing atmy compliment, "it is too bad of you. I'm sure--"
"Hear me out, please," I continued with mock severity. "You are young,you are very good-looking, and you are rich; you therefore possess thethree necessary attributes which render a woman eligible in these moderndays when sentiment is held of such little account. Well, people whowill watch our intimate friendship will, with ill-nature, declare, nodoubt, that I am seeking to marry you for your money. I am quite surethe world will say this, but what I want you to promise is to at oncerefute such a statement. I desire that you and I shall be firm friends,just as we have ever been, without any thought of affection. I mayadmire you--I confess, now, that I have always admired you--but with aman of my limited means love for you is entirely out of the question.Understand that I do not wish to presume upon the past, now that yourfather is dead and you are alone. Understand, too, from the very outsetthat I now give you the hand of firm friendship as I would give it toReggie, my old schoolfellow and best friend, and that in future I shallsafeguard your interests as though they were my own." And I held out myhands to her.
For a moment she hesitated, for my words had apparently caused her themost profound surprise.
"Very well," she faltered, glancing for an instant up to my face. "Itis a bargain--if you wish it to be so."
"I wish, Mabel, to carry out the promise I made to your father," I said."As you know, I am greatly indebted to him for much generosity, and Iwish, therefore, as a mark of gratitude, to stand in his place andprotect his daughter--yourself."
"But were we not, in the first place, both indebted to you?" she said."If it had not been for Mr. Seton and yourself I might have wandered onuntil I died by the wayside."
"For what was your father searching?" I asked. "He surely told you?"
"No, he never did. I am in entire ignorance of the reason of his threeyears of tramping up and down England. He had a distinct object, whichhe accomplished, but what it actually was he would never reveal to me."
"It was, I suppose, in connexion with that document he always carried?"
"I believe it was," was her response. Then she added, returning to herprevious observations, "Why speak of your indebtedness to him, Mr.Greenwood, when I know full well how you sold your best horse in orderto pay my school fees at Bournemouth, and that you could not hunt thatseason in consequence? You denied yourself the only little pleasure youhad, in order that I might be well cared for."
"I forbid you to mention that again," I said quickly. "Recollect we arenow friends, and between friends there can be no question ofindebtedness."
"Then you must not talk of any little service my father rendered toyou," she laughed. "Come, now, I shall be unruly if you don't keep toyour part of the bargain!"
And so we were compelled at that juncture to cry quits, and werecommenced our friendship on a firm and perfectly well-defined basis.
Yet how strange it was! The beauty of Mabel Blair, as she lounged therebefore me in that magnificent home that was now hers, was surelysufficient to turn the head of any man who was not a Chancery Judge or aCatholic Cardinal--different indeed from the poor, half-starved girlwhom I had first seen exhausted and fallen by the roadside in the wintergloom.
CHAPTER FIVE.
IN WHICH THE MYSTERY BECOMES CONSIDERABLY INCREASED.
That the precious document, or whatever it was, sewn up in thewash-leather which the dead man had so carefully guarded through allthose years was now missing was, in itself, a very suspiciouscircumstance, while Mabel's vague but distinct apprehensions, which sheeither would not or could not define, now aroused my suspicions thatBurton Blair had been the victim of foul play.
Immediately after leaving her I therefore drove to Bedford Row and heldanother consultation with Leighton, to whom I explained my grave fears.
"As I have already explained, Mr. Greenwood," responded the solicitor,leaning back in his padded chair and regarding me gravely through hisglasses, "I believe that my client did not die a natural death. Therewas some mystery in his life, some strange romantic circumstance which,unfortunately, he never thought fit to confide to me. He held a secret,he told me, and by knowledge of that secret, he obtained his vastwealth. Only half an hour ago I made a rough calculation of the presentvalue of his estate, and at the lowest, I believe it will be found toamount to over two and a half millions. The whole of this, I may tellyou in confidence, goes unreservedly to his daughter, with the exceptionof several legacies, which include ten thousand each to Mr. Seton and toyourself, two thousand to Mrs. Percival, and some small sums to theservants. But," he added, "there is a clause in the will which is verypuzzling, and which closely aff
ects yourself. As we both suspect foulplay, I think I may as well at once show it to you without waiting formy unfortunate client's burial and the formal reading of his will."
Then he rose, and from a big black deed box lettered "Burton Blair,Esquire," he took out the dead man's will, and, opening it, showed me apassage which read:--
Ten: "I give and bequeath to Gilbert Greenwood of The Cedars, Helpstone,the small bag of chamois leather that will be found upon me at the timeof my death, in order that he may profit by what is contained therein,and as recompense for certain valuable services rendered to me. Let himrecollect always this rhyme--
"`_Henry the Eighth was a knave to his queens, He'd, one short ofseven--and nine or ten scenes_!'
"And let him well and truly preserve the secret from every man, just asI have done."
That was all. A strange clause surely! Burton Blair had, after all,actually bequeathed his secret to me, the secret that had brought himhis colossal wealth! Yet it was already lost--probably stolen by hisenemies.
"That's a curious doggerel," the solicitor smiled. "But poor Blairpossessed but little literary culture, I fear. He knew more about thesea than poetry. Yet, after all, it seems a tantalising situation thatyou should be left the secret of the source of my client's enormousfortune, and that it should be stolen from you in this manner."
"We had, I think, better consult the police, and explain oursuspicions," I said, in bitter chagrin that the chamois sachet shouldhave fallen into other hands.
"I entirely agree with you, Mr. Greenwood. We will go together toScotland Yard and get them to institute inquiries. If Mr. Blair wasactually murdered, then his assassination was accomplished in a mostsecret and remarkable manner, to say the least. But there is onefurther clause in the will which is somewhat disturbing, and that iswith regard to his daughter Mabel. The testator has appointed someperson of whom I have never heard--a man called Paolo Melandrini, anItalian, apparently living in Florence, to be her secretary and themanager of her affairs."
"What!" I cried, amazed. "An Italian to be her secretary! Who is he?"
"A person with whom I am not acquainted; whose name, indeed, has neverbeen mentioned to me by my client. He merely dictated it to me when Idrafted the will."
"But the thing's absurd!" I exclaimed. "Surely you can't let anunknown foreigner, who may be an adventurer for all we know, havecontrol of all her money?"
"I fear there's no help for it," replied Leighton, gravely. "It iswritten here, and we shall be compelled to give notice to this man,whoever he is, of his appointment at a salary of five thousand pounds ayear."
"And will he really have control of her affairs?"
"Absolutely. Indeed, the whole estate is left to her on condition thatshe accepts this fellow as her secretary and confidential adviser."
"Why, Blair must have been mad!" I exclaimed. "Has Mabel any knowledgeof this mysterious Italian?"
"She has never heard of him."
"Well, in that case, I think that, before he is informed of poor Blair'sdeath and the good fortune in store for him, we ought at least to findout who and what he is. We can in any case, keep a watchful eye on him,and see that he doesn't trick Mabel out of her money."
The lawyer sighed, wiped his glasses slowly, and said--
"He will have the entire management of everything, therefore it will bedifficult to know what goes on, or how much he puts into his ownpocket."
"But whatever could possess Blair to insert such a mad clause as that?Didn't you point out the folly of it?"
"I did."
"And what did he say?"
"He reflected a few moments over my words, sighed, and then answered,`It is imperative, Leighton. I have no other alternative.' Thereforefrom that I took it that he was acting under compulsion."
"You believe that this foreigner was in a position to demand it--eh?"
The solicitor nodded. He evidently was of opinion that the reason ofthe introduction of this unknown person into Mabel's household was asecret one, known only to Burton Blair and to the individual himself.It was curious, I reflected, that Mabel herself had not mentioned it tome. Yet perhaps she had hesitated, because I had told her of my promiseto her father, and she did not wish to hurt my feelings. The wholesituation became hourly more complicated and more mysterious.
I was, however, bent upon accomplishing two things; first, to recoverthe millionaire's most precious possession which he had bequeathed tome, together with such an extraordinary injunction to recollect thatdoggerel couplet which still ran in my head; and secondly, to makeprivate inquiries regarding this unknown foreigner who had so suddenlybecome introduced into the affair.
That same evening at six o'clock, having met Reggie by appointment atMr. Leighton's office, we all three drove to Scotland Yard, where we hada long consultation with one of the head officials, to whom we explainedthe circumstances and our suspicions of foul play.
"Well," he replied at length, "of course I will institute inquiries inManchester and elsewhere, but as the medical evidence has proved soconclusively that the gentleman in question died from natural causes, Icannot hold out very much hope that out Department or the ManchesterDetective Department can assist you. The grounds you have for supposingthat he met with foul play are very vague, you must admit, and as far asI can see, the only motive at all was the theft of this paper, orwhatever it was, which he carried upon him. Yet men are not usuallykilled in broad daylight in order to commit a theft which any expertpickpocket might effect. Besides, if his enemies or rivals knew what itwas and how he was in the habit of carrying it, they could easily havesecured it without assassination."
"But he was in possession of some secret," remarked the solicitor.
"Of what character?"
"I have unfortunately no idea. Nobody knows. All that we are aware isthat its possession raised him from poverty to affluence, and that oneperson, if not more, was eager to obtain possession of it."
"Naturally," remarked the grey-haired Assistant-Director of CriminalInvestigations. "But who was this person?"
"Unfortunately I do not know. My client told me this a year ago, butmentioned no name."
"Then you have no suspicion whatever of any one?"
"None. The little bag of wash leather, inside which the document wassewn, has been stolen, and this fact arouses our suspicion of foulplay." The hide-bound official shook his head very dubiously.
"That is not enough upon which to base a suspicion of murder, especiallyas we have had all the evidence at the inquest, a post-mortem and aunanimous verdict of the coroner's jury. No, gentlemen," he added, "Idon't see any ground for really grave suspicion. The document may nothave been stolen after all. Mr. Blair seems to have been of a somewhateccentric disposition, like many men who suddenly rise in the world, andhe may have hidden it away for safe-keeping somewhere. To me, thisseems by far the most likely theory, especially as he had expressed afear that his enemies sought to gain possession of it."
"But surely, if there is suspicion of murder, it is the duty of thepolice to investigate it!" I exclaimed resentfully.
"Granted. But where is the suspicion? Neither doctors, coroner, localpolice nor jury entertain the slightest doubt that he died from naturalcauses," he argued. "In that case the Manchester police have neitherright nor necessity to interfere."
"But there has been a theft."
"What proof have you of it?" he asked, raising his grey eyebrows andtapping the table with his pen. "If you can show me that a theft hasbeen committed, then I will put in motion the various influences at mycommand. On the contrary, you merely suspect that this something sewnin a bag has been stolen. Yet it may be hidden in some place difficultto find, but nevertheless in safety. As, however, you all three allegethat the unfortunate gentleman was assassinated in order to gainpossession of this mysterious little packet of which he was so careful,I will communicate with the Manchester City police and ask them to makewhat inquiries they can. Further than th
at, gentlemen," he addedsuavely, "I fear that my Department cannot assist you."
"Then all I have to reply," remarked Mr. Leighton, bluntly, "is that thepublic opinion of the futility of this branch of the police in thedetection of crime is fully justified, and I shall not fail to see thatpublic attention is called to the matter through the Press. It's simplya disgrace."
"I'm only acting, sir, upon my instructions, conjointly with what youhave yourself told me," was his answer. "I assure you that if I orderedinquiries to be made in every case in which persons are alleged to havebeen murdered, I should require a detective force as large as theBritish Army. Why, not a day passes without I receive dozens of secretcallers and anonymous letters all alleging assassination--generallyagainst some person towards whom they entertain a dislike. Eighteenyears as head of this Department, however, has, I think, taught me howto distinguish a case for inquiry--which yours is not."
Argument proved futile. The official mind was made up that Burton Blairhad not fallen a victim to foul play, therefore we could hope for noassistance. So with our dissatisfaction rather plainly marked, we roseand went out again into Whitehall.
"It's a scandal!" Reggie declared angrily. "Poor Blair has beenmurdered--everything points to it--and yet the police won't lift afinger to assist us to reveal the truth,
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