Mrs. Vanderstein's jewels

by Mrs. Charles Bryce

  CHAPTER XVI

  Scholefield Avenue was a short street of moderate-sized houses, which,when they were built, had stood at the extreme margin of what was then asuburb; indeed, some of the original tenants had called it the country.There was considerable variety of appearance about them, but they werealike in one respect: each stood apart from its neighbours, in groundsthat differed in extent from a tiny yard to half an acre. Thus No. 1, atthe south-eastern corner, possessed a large kitchen garden running backa long way, with outbuildings at the further end, a stable, with a coachhouse on one side of the stable gate, and a chicken house and run on theother. The old lady who lived at No. 1 was very proud of the fact thatshe supplied herself with vegetables, eggs, and poultry all the yearround, though, as she was fond of saying, her house was within threemiles of the Marble Arch. She often thought of keeping a cow.

  No. 3, next door, had hardly any garden behind it at all, the groundthat should by rights have belonged to it having been bought up by No. 1in former days and added to its own; and this caused an unneighbourlyfeeling to exist between the two houses, which was inherited by eachsuccessive occupier of No. 3. Most of the other dwellings in the streetwere more equally provided with land; and the row came to an end withNo. 17, a very small house surrounded by nothing more interesting thanan asphalt path, with a thin hedge of laurel between it and the outerrailings. Some of the houses showed the large, high window of a studio.On the opposite side of the road the same variety existed.

  The taxi containing Gimblet, Sir Gregory, and Higgs drove slowly downthe street, and was more than halfway along it when the detective caughtsight of the board "To Let" for which he was looking. It adorned therailings of No. 6, which stood on the left hand side as they went north.

  They stopped after they had turned the corner, and got out of the cab.Gimblet paid and dismissed it, and they walked back to No. 6.

  It did not look very promising, presenting a shuttered and unbrokenfront to the spectator, and bearing marks of age and disrepair. The gateswung on a broken hinge, and, in the cold wind that was still blowing,a door at the back banged every now and then with uncontrolled andunprofitable violence.

  Higgs, at a sign from Gimblet, rang the bell and stood aside, while theywaited for some one to answer it. For a few minutes they heard nothingbut the jar of the banging door and the rustle of the wind in the treesthat lined the street; then they were aware of a slatternly woman,carrying a wooden bucket in her hand, who was trying to attract theirattention from the steps of the house next door.

  "If you gentleman are a-ringing," she began, addressing them in a shoutover the intervening bushes, "a-thinking, as it might be, by so doingto get into that there house, it ain't no good; you can't do it. Thereain't no one in it."

  "Who's got the key?" Gimblet cried back to her.

  "I've got it meself. I'll come round and unlock the door."

  Descending the steps as she spoke she proceeded to make her way intothe street, and so in at the swinging gate of No. 6.

  "'Ave you got a horder from the hagents?" she demanded when she arrived."No? Well, I don't mind you having a look at the 'ouse all the same, ifyou're set on it. There ain't much to see, I reckon, but a lot of dirtand litter."

  As she spoke she inserted the key in the lock, and opened the door. SirGregory, who was nearest, was about to enter, but Gimblet laid a handupon his arm.

  "Please, Sir Gregory, I must pass before you to-day," he said, andputting him gently on one side he stepped across the threshold. Thewoman was in the act of following, but he motioned her back, and stoodfor a moment staring at the floor. Then he turned to her.

  "I see on the board that the house is to be let unfurnished, or would besold," he said, "and I understand it has been empty a considerable time.Can you tell me how long it is since anyone has been to look at it?"

  "It's stood hempty more'n two years," said the woman, "so I've 'eardsay. There ain't been no one come to look at it since I've been 'ere.I'm caretaking, I am, for a party what live next door. 'E's away inforeign parts, that's where 'e is, and time I've been a-caretaking for'im you're the first what's asked to see the hinside of this yere'ouse."

  "And how long have you been caretaking here, do you say?" Gimbletinquired.

  "I've been 'ere a matter of four months come next Monday," replied thewoman.

  "Thanks," said Gimblet; and turned again towards the interior of thebuilding. He bent down, and looked close at the bare boards of thepassage, on which lay the dust and dirt that accumulates in an emptyhouse. Then as an idea struck him he stood upright again.

  "I don't think we will bother to go over the house," he said to thewoman. "I fear it wouldn't suit me. At all events, you can perhaps tellme one more thing I am anxious to know," he continued, coming out of thehouse and facing the street. "There was another board up in this streetabout a week ago, but I see they have taken it down. Do you know whichnumber it was, and whether the house has been let?"

  "Why yes, sir, they 'ave been and took down the board from No. 13," saidthe caretaker, "took it down beginning of the week, they did. But the'ouse's let, I think; it won't be no good your going after it. If it's afurnished 'ouse you're looking for, I see a board hup in the next streett'other day. Little Cumberland Street."

  "Thank you very much," said Gimblet. "I'll take a look at it if I findNo. 13 is let. Good morning, and I'm sorry to have troubled you."

  They left the woman to lock up the house and return to her caretaking,and started off up the street.

  Sir Gregory went reluctantly, visibly hanging back.

  "Look here," he said to Gimblet, "why don't you go over that house? Itwouldn't take a minute. Supposing they've got her shut up in an emptyroom at the top somewhere. Much better make sure."

  "My dear Sir Gregory, no one has been in that house for months; thedust was deep on the floor and there were no signs of its having beendisturbed recently. Do you think two women in long evening dresses couldgo in without leaving some mark of their passage so short a time ago.Their dresses would either have swept away some of the dust or, if theyheld them high, their footmarks would have remained. It is impossiblethat No. 6 is the house, unless some one has spread fresh dust in thehall since Monday. Besides, it is very improbable that they shouldhave gone to such a deserted, filthy building, and, on the contrary,more than likely that they should go to a house that had just beenlet. I felt sure there must have been a board up at another house inthis street when Miss Finner passed, as soon as I looked at the floor.Come, here is No. 13, and I have a feeling that we shall find it a moreprofitable hunting ground."

  Gimblet opened, as he spoke, the gate of No. 13, and took a rapidscrutiny of its exterior as he walked quickly up the short distance thatseparated it from the road.

  It showed a striking contrast to the forlorn and gloomy front offeredto the world by the house they had just visited. No. 13 was spick andspan; its white walls and shutters shone with the brightness of newpaint; a neat grass plot, with a diminutive carriage drive winding ina half-circle round it, divided it from the railings of the street,the whole occupying no more than a few square yards of space. On eachside of the flight of steps that led up to the front door there was alittle triangular flower bed, gay with pansies, and, as the three menapproached, the sun, breaking for the first time that day through thedilatory dispersal of the clouds, cast a shining beam about the placeand was caught and reflected from the surface of the windows.

  The change in the day was not without its effect even on Sir Gregory,and as he watched Higgs spring forward to ring the bell a new and suddeninrush of hope mounted to his heart.

  "I have an excuse by which we may get into the house if they seemdisinclined to admit us," Gimblet was murmuring in his ear. "Back me upin all I say, but leave the chief part of the talking to me."

  They waited eagerly, with eyes fixed on the door and ears strained tocatch the sound of footsteps; but minutes passed and no such soundgreeted them. Higgs rang again; the loud pealing of the bell could be
heard jingling itself to a standstill in the basement, and must surelybe audible all over the house. Still no one came, and he tried the areawith no better result. Leaving Higgs to continue his efforts, Gimbletbacked across the little lawn, and looked up at the windows to see if hecould detect any sign of life.

  There were muslin curtains in the bedroom windows and he tried in vainto catch sight of a pair of eyes peeping from behind one of them; butnot a movement was visible anywhere. The shutters of the drawing-roomwere closed, and the parapet of the broad balcony shut them out froma searching inspection, which was still further impeded by a widewooden stand which took up most of the balcony, and extended its wholelength. In it were planted flowers, tall daisies and geraniums, whichappeared somewhat withered and neglected, and, with the closed shutters,contributed the only hint of disorder in the clean and cheerful aspectof the house.

  The detective made his way round to the back. Here the ground fell away,and the basement appeared on the surface instead of below the level ofthe ground. Another and longer flight of iron steps led up to a doorused, no doubt, to give access to the garden. There was no bell here,and the door, of which Gimblet tried the handle, was locked. Throughthe windows of the basement he could see into the kitchen, clean andorderly as the outside of the house, with white tiled walls and rowsof shining stewpans. The table was bare, he noticed, and no fire burntin the grate; on a summer's evening such as this it might well havebeen allowed to go out. On the other side of the steps he looked intowhat must be the scullery, and beyond this was a larder; over these wasa small window into which he could not see, while above the kitchena large one was hidden, like those of the drawing-room, by outsideshutters. The back window of the first floor, however, and all the otherwindows at the back of the house were without shutters, and veiled onlyby curtains of white muslin.

  Gimblet took a hasty survey of the garden. It was not large, extendingback for some sixty or seventy yards from the house, but bright withflowers and green with lawn and leaf; trees surrounded it on all sides,now golden in the rays of the descending sun; and a high wall gave itprivacy from an inquisitive world. Here again the beds were dappledwith pansies; here were pinks and poppies, daisies and tall larkspurs,with such other flowers as could be induced to derive nourishment fromthe unrefreshing showers of smuts, which was their daily portion. Bythe end wall was a hut, of which the door yielded to Gimblet's touch,and disclosed a mowing machine in one corner, some garden implementsin another, and a potting bench with boxes of mould and some packetsof seeds; by the door were stacked a few red pots. Gimblet stood for amoment looking in, and then went back to the front of the house.

  Here he found Sir Gregory engaged in conversation with an elderly man,whose velvet coat and the paint brush he carried stuck behind his earsuggested that he was an artist. He introduced himself as the detectivecame up.

  "Mr. Gimblet, I think," said he; "my name is Brampton. I live nextdoor," and he waved his hand towards the south.

  Gimblet ground his teeth as he realised that Sir Gregory had given awayhis identity, but he replied civilly that it was indeed he.

  "Although only a stay-at-home painter, I have heard of you," said thenew-comer; "but of course I had no idea who was ringing, when I cameround. My wife saw your friends at the door here, and suggested that Ishould come and tell you that she believes there is no one in the house.We heard that it was let, and the other day a man came and took downthe board, but my wife says that no one has been seen to go in or leavethe house for several days; she and the servants are of opinion thatit is empty at the present moment, and that the new tenant has not yetarrived."

  "Indeed," said Gimblet, "I am grateful for your information; but I havesome reason to think that the new tenant took possession some time ago."

  "It can hardly be very long," observed Brampton, "for the Mills, to whomit belongs, only went away last week."

  "Really," said Gimblet, "you interest me. Who are the Mills? Do you knowthem at all?"

  "Most certainly I do. They are great friends of ours, and their havingto go away like this is a sad loss to us. Arthur Mill is the son of anold acquaintance of mine--a manufacturer of glass--and is employed inhis father's business. His wife is a charming woman, and we are devotedto them both. It was only lately decided that he was to go abroad, tolook after a branch of the business in Italy, and they had very littletime to make arrangements about letting their house. They only left onFriday last, and it was a great surprise to us to hear on Monday thatthe house had been let."

  "Did you hear who had taken it?" inquired Gimblet.

  "I think I did hear the man's name, but I am afraid I have forgottenit. My wife saw a charwoman going in on Monday morning whom she oftenemploys herself, so she ran in here, as she told me, to ask her what shewas doing, as the house had been all cleaned up on Friday and Saturdayafter the Mills left. The charwoman said she had been sent in by thehouse agents to see if anything remained to be put in order, as the newtenant, or so she understood, wanted to go in at once. That is all weheard; but as no one has been seen or heard about the place since thatday it looks as if they had changed their minds."

  "Thanks very much," said Gimblet. "If you could tell me the name of theagents I think my best plan is to go and try to get the key from them,as it seems impossible to rouse anyone here."

  "Ennidge and Pring are the agents; in Sentinel Street, about tenminutes' walk from here. You'll have to be quick, or you won't catchthem. They're sure to close at six."

  "I will go now," said Gimblet, and he drew Higgs on one side. "Higgs,"he said, "keep an eye on the front of the house, and if anyone comes outand you fail to detain him, follow him, leaving Sir Gregory to watch thehouse. In the meantime, let him watch the back. I shall be back soon ifI can get a taxi."

  He started off, Mr. Brampton accompanying him as far as his own doorand pointing out the way to Sentinel Street. At the gate they glancedback at the shuttered first floor windows and the faded flowers on thebalcony.

  "Mrs. Mill would be terribly upset if she saw how her flowers are beingneglected," said Mr. Brampton. "She is so very fond of her garden, andis always watering and attending to her plants. A man is to come once aweek, on Saturday mornings, to look after the garden and mow the lawn,and I shall tell him to insist on watering the balcony boxes. That'syour way now, up the street and bear to the left. Ah, there's a taxi."

  A cab had indeed that moment turned into the street, and Gimblet hailedit and drove rapidly to the offices of Messrs. Ennidge and Pring, houseagents.