CHAPTER XXIII
Gimblet was late for the inquest, which had been fixed for two o'clock.By the time he arrived the evidence of Higgs and the policeman he hadfetched, and that of Brampton, the artist, and the house agents' clerkhad been already taken, and there only remained his own and the doctor'sto be heard.
Nothing new was brought to light, and the jury returned a verdict of"Wilful murder against some person or persons unknown."
Gimblet did not judge it expedient to disclose the theories he hadformed on the subject of the crime. As he walked away from the house inthe company of Jennins, whom he had found there when he arrived, theinspector said to him:
"An old-clothes dealer in Victoria Street has communicated with us. Theyhave bought what they think, from the published description, to be thedresses and cloaks worn by Mrs. Vanderstein and Miss Turner on Mondaynight. I am going to get that French maid of theirs to go down to theplace with me and see if the people are right in their assumption. Theysay they bought the things from a young woman who gave an address inPimlico and the name of Julie Querterot. Can she be the Madame Q. of thenote? If she is, it is strange that she should not give a false name;but everything about this case is mysterious."
"It is not she," said Gimblet, "it was her mother. I have just beento their house and seen her. As for mysteries, there is only one leftas far as I am concerned, and that is the whereabouts of West, and thequestion whether he has not by this time exchanged his disguise of ablack beard for another in which it will be harder to identify him.Everything else, I think, is quite clear, with the exception of a fewtrifling details, and I do not think it will be long before we may hopeto lay our hands on Mr. West himself."
Gimblet refused, however, to impart his lately acquired information toJennins, telling him, much to the inspector's disgust, that he wouldknow all about it soon enough.
"And a tangled web you'll find it, Jennins," said he.
They were interrupted by a messenger, who informed Jennins that MissTurner was conscious and anxious to make a statement.
Gimblet and the inspector went together to the hospital, where theyfound Barbara looking very much better than the day before. She wasrecovering wonderfully, they were told, but must not excite herself morethan could be avoided. Indeed, she would not have been allowed to seethem yet, if she had not been fretting so much to tell her story that itwas thought best to let her do it. She must not, however, be made awareof the death of her friend if it were possible to conceal it from herfor the next few days.
She greeted the two men with a feeble smile. "I hear that I was rescuedby one of your men," she said to Jennins, "and I am more grateful to himthan I can say, though I do not remember very much after I realised thatthat man was trying to tie his spade round my neck."
"It's lucky you were seen in time," replied Jennins. "We don't want tobother you to-day, but at the same time we are, of course, anxious tohear anything you can tell us about the scoundrel you were with."
"Oh, I want to tell you all about it so that you may be able to catchhim--and the woman too. I suppose you haven't got them yet?"
Jennins shook his head.
"I thought perhaps Mrs. Vanderstein had been able to put you on thetrack. How glad I am that she escaped. I was afraid--but no matter now.Has she told you how she managed to get away?"
"Mrs. Vanderstein went abroad immediately," said Gimblet evasively;"we have not heard any details from her yet. But will you not tell usyour adventures from the beginning? How was it you found yourselves inScholefield Avenue?"
Barbara looked at him blankly. "Scholefield Avenue," she repeated,"where is that?"
"The house in which you were imprisoned is there," said Gimblet; "haveyou forgotten? You went there with Mrs. Vanderstein on Monday nightafter the opera. I want you to tell us why you went to it."
"I didn't know where it was," said Barbara, "but I don't think I cantell you why we went. I don't think Mrs. Vanderstein would like me to dothat."
"As you wish," replied Gimblet; "but this will show you that I alreadyknow something of your friend's private affairs." He took out the sheetof notepaper bearing the arms of Targona, and handed it to her.
"She gave you this!" cried the girl, and as Gimblet remained silent:"Then she cannot mind my speaking of it. Yes, it is true that we went tothat house to meet Prince Felipe, but I don't know if he came there ornot."
"No, he did not go."
"Then the whole thing was false! I thought so at the beginning,but afterwards I was not sure. It was on Monday morning that Mrs.Vanderstein spoke to me about it. For a week she had been lookingstrange: excited, pleased--I don't know what exactly--happier, younger,somehow different from her usual look. And on Monday she came to my roomand told me, blushing and smiling, that it was her happiness to be lovedby Prince Felipe of Targona, and that in all probability she was goingto marry him. They had only seen each other in the distance, she said,but it had been love at first sight for both of them, and she was sohappy, so happy! And wouldn't I say I was glad? I asked her how she knewwhat he felt for her, if they had never met, and she said she had hadletters from him and had written to him herself, and that she was goingto meet him that very night after the opera, at the house of a friendof his. She said they could not meet in public, or at his hotel, or inher own home, as he was surrounded by his suite, and his mother, who wasalso with him, watched his every movement, so that all his comings andgoings were seen and marked.
"They were staying at Fianti's Hotel just opposite to us in GrosvenorStreet, you know, so it would have been rather difficult for the Princeto come to our house without being noticed. It was intended that heshould marry for political reasons, and at any sign of his affectionsbeing bestowed on a private individual an outcry would have been raised,which would have been hard to ignore. It was Prince Felipe's plan, soMrs. Vanderstein told me, that they should be married quietly and thathe should then abdicate; to which less objection would be made when itwas known that he was irretrievably disposed of from a matrimonial pointof view. The whole story appeared to me so improbable and fantastic thatI couldn't help laughing at it, which offended my friend very much, andin order to convince me she finally showed me some of the Prince'sletters, including the one you have there. I could not doubt any longerafter I had seen them, though I was surprised and, I must say, shockedto hear that the go-between in the affair and the bearer of all thenotes was a Frenchwoman, a hairdresser employed by Mrs. Vanderstein, andalso, it seemed, by one of the suite of Prince Felipe.
"When I heard that Mrs. Vanderstein had no idea where the house to whichshe was to go that night was situated, but had left all details toMadame Querterot and the Prince, I tried to convince her of the folly ofsuch an arrangement, but nothing I could say had any effect. At last Itold her that I should accompany her on this escapade; and, though shedidn't like the idea and even grew quite angry with me about it, I stuckto my point, and was so firm on the subject that in the end she gave inand said I could come if I liked. It was, all the same, with seriousmisgivings that I set forth with her that evening for Covent Garden,where we were first to attend the gala performance. We had hardlyentered the theatre when Mrs. Vanderstein told me to run back and tellthe motor not to come to fetch us. We were to go away in a carriage sentby the Prince, she said.
"I was too much worried to enjoy the opera. I don't know whether Mrs.Vanderstein did or not, but she kept looking at her watch and fidgeting,so I think her thoughts were elsewhere. Before the last act was nearlyover we left the box and went down into the hall, which was nearlyempty, and told a man to call Mr. Targon's carriage, for so it appearedthe Prince was to be alluded to on this occasion. In a few minutes abrougham drove up, drawn by a dun coloured horse, which dished badly andhad an odd white blaze across its nose and one eye. I noticed, too, thatit was driven by a very odd-looking man, who wore a hat much too largefor him crammed down over his eyes and a great scarf wrapped round hisneck and high over his chin and ears; though even so I could see that hewore a bea
rd, which is, to say the least of it, unusual in a coachman."
"One moment," Jennins interrupted; "do you think you could recognise thehorse, Miss Turner, if you should see him again?"
"I am nearly sure I should," Barbara replied. "There can't be many witha blaze like that. I am more sure of it than I am of the driver. Hedrove very badly," she went on, "pulling up under the arch with a jerkand throwing up his hands, each of which clutched at a rein, nearlyover his head. 'Surely there is some mistake,' I said. 'Are you fromMr. Targon?' 'I am from Mr. Targon,' he answered hoarsely, 'but I thinkthere is a mistake, as you say; I was to fetch one lady, not two.' 'Oh,that's all right,' said Mrs. Vanderstein hurriedly. 'Jump in, Barbara.'And she got into the brougham herself, so that I had no choice but tofollow her, and we drove off.
"Oh dear, how badly that man drove! Luckily there was hardly any trafficabout, but we bumped into three things before we got to the top ofRegent Street, and went over the curb at the corners I don't know howoften. Once the carriage stopped and the driver leant down and calledthrough the window that he had orders to fetch one lady, and that Imust get out. This I absolutely refused to do, and by this time Mrs.Vanderstein was so much alarmed by the reckless way in which he drovethat I don't think she would have allowed me to leave her even if I hadwished to do so. After a heated dispute a small crowd began to gatherround us, and the coachman seeing, I fancy, the shadow of an approachingpoliceman, suddenly abandoned the contest, and whipping up his horse welurched forward again as the animal started with a bound.
"It was a long drive, and towards the end of it I lost all notion ofdirection and had no idea where we were going. At last, with a finalbump and jolt, we drove in at the gate of a little house, which seemedto stand back from the road in a tiny garden, and pulled up with a jerkbefore a flight of steps, at the top of which a door was flung openthe moment we stopped, and I recognised the figure of Madame Querterotstanding back from it in the half light of the passage.
"We got out, and Mrs. Vanderstein, who is timid driving at any time,began to abuse the man in a very angry tone. She had been thoroughlyfrightened, poor dear, and had sat holding my hand with a white faceall the way, as I could see from time to time in the light of a passinglamp. 'What do you mean by driving like that?' she called out fromthe pavement. 'I think you are drunk. A nice thing, indeed. I shallcomplain of you, do not fear. It is most disgraceful to be in such astate. Never, never have I been driven like that! It is a wonder wewere not all killed!' The man flicked at the horse and drove away, butMrs. Vanderstein was so angry with him that she actually made as if tofollow. She only went a step or two, however, and then with a laughturned back, and we went up the steps, into the house.
"We were received by Madame Querterot, looking, I must say, more tidythan usual, in a neat black dress and a large apron, put on, I suppose,in keeping with her part of parlourmaid. I was struck by the strangeexpression on her face when she first caught sight of me, and shemurmured something to the effect that Mrs. Vanderstein had promised tocome alone; but my friend, who was still flushed from her encounterwith the coachman, did not answer her at all and marched on with herchin in the air. Madame Querterot recovered her usual amiability in amoment, and with many smiles and blandishments conducted us up to thedrawing-room, where she left us, saying that His Highness had not yetarrived.
"There we waited for what seemed a long time; twenty minutes perhaps, orhalf an hour. My friend was very nervous and could not sit still, butwalked up and down, up and down, restlessly, the whole time. Now shewould plump down on a sofa and arrange herself in a graceful attitude;a minute later she would jump to her feet and run to the looking-glassto pat her curls into place, or dab her nose with powder. 'How do Ilook?' she asked me more than once, and hardly seemed to hear me when Ianswered her.
"At last there was a slight noise downstairs; the front door shut, andI could catch the mumble of voices talking low. After what seemed againan interminable delay the door opened and Madame Querterot came in. 'IfMademoiselle will come with me into another room for a short time,' saidshe. 'His Highness has just arrived.' I only hesitated a second. Therewas such an imploring look in Mrs. Vanderstein's eyes that I could notrefuse to go, much as I disapproved of the whole thing. I took her hand,and kissed her encouragingly, and then left the room without a word; forindeed there was something pathetic about her emotion, and I was toomuch moved by it myself to trust my voice.
"Madame Querterot led me down to a small back room that seemed to bea library, and left me, shutting the door behind her. I heard feetascending the stairs, the drawing-room door open and shut, and then allwas still for a moment.
"Suddenly, however, there came a noise from above. Something seemedto have been knocked over, then came a sound of running footsteps andfinally a dragging noise as if a heavy object were being pulled acrossthe floor overhead. I started up in alarm. What was happening upstairs?Surely there was something wrong! Without waiting to think, I rushedinto the hall and tore upstairs and in at the drawing-room door. Ifound myself confronted by a tall man with a thick black beard and apale, blotchy face. Behind him at the further end of the room I caughta glimpse of Mrs. Vanderstein, apparently lying on a sofa, and MadameQuerterot bending over her. 'What is it. Is she ill?' I cried. 'Take heraway, take her away,' exclaimed Madame Querterot, looking up over hershoulder, and before I had time to speak again I was hustled out of theroom by the tall man and dragged downstairs again to the library. I wasso infuriated at his daring to touch me that I could scarcely speak, butI managed to stammer again: 'Is she ill? Is Mrs. Vanderstein ill?' 'Sheis not feeling quite well,' he replied, 'she will be best without you.'
"I looked at him curiously. I had seen Prince Felipe, and this was nothe. Indeed I thought I recognised the driver of the brougham. He wasa strange-looking man, dressed in ordinary day clothes, and I noticedwith astonishment that he wore thick brown leather gloves on both hands.'I think she will be better with me,' I said defiantly, and advancedtowards the door, but he barred the way. 'You must stay here,' he said.'Must!' I said; 'what do you mean? Let me go this instant.' He didn'tanswer, but just stood with his back to the door, grinning in a foolishway. 'Let me out, let me out,' I exclaimed, on the point of tears bythis time, I am afraid. 'Let me out or--or--I'll set fire to the house!'
"I caught up my scarf and held it towards the gas, but the man leaptforward and, before I knew what he was doing, had turned out the flamealtogether, leaving us in the dark. As I still stood, bewildered, Iheard the door open and in an instant he had vanished through it and thekey was turned in the lock outside.
"This was followed by the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and in thesilence that succeeded it is no exaggeration to say that the noise ofmy pulses throbbing in my ears sounded as loud as the tramp of a wholearmy on the march. I felt my way to a chair, and for a time sat in atrembling silence, shaken and unstrung by terror the most unnerving, ifof the vaguest nature.
"Why would they not let me go to Mrs. Vanderstein if she was ill? Whatwas the matter with her? Why had Madame Querterot looked as she did whenshe saw me on the doorstep? What was she doing, kneeling by the sofa?And, above all, what was the meaning of the man's behaviour to me? Itwas, I think, the touch of his hand, as he dragged me downstairs, thattook away my courage altogether.
"I sat for a long while, immovable in the darkness. From time to timesounds came from the room above, but they did not convey any meaning tome. At last I grew calmer, and indignation began to take the place ofmy fears. I got up and moved about the room, feeling my way as I went.In this manner I soon had an idea of the position and character of thefurniture, even of the fire-place and the coal scuttle; and I must haveblacked my fingers nicely in the process. I had a wild notion that itmight be useful to me to know where the poker was, though I had nodefinite idea what I would do with it. Still, in one way or another Iwas determined to escape from this imprisonment. What did they mean byshutting me in this room? They must, they should, let me out!
"I began to cry for
help. I felt my way to the door and beat against itwith my hands, but no answer came. Then I had a brilliant thought--theroom was on the ground floor, surely I could get out of the window. Ireached it and tried to open it, but it was stiff and heavy. In spite ofall my efforts I could not raise the sash. I groped for the poker againand, standing back for fear of the splintering glass, I aimed a blowat the place where I knew the window to be and heard with delight thecrash of a shattered pane. Even as I delivered the blow, it struck me ascurious that no light came into the room from the night outside; and,thrusting the poker through the hole I had broken, I found to my dismaythat there were strong wooden shutters beyond it. But the noise I hadmade seemed to have attracted some attention at last, for I heard a dooropen and the sound of some one running down the stairs.
"A moment later the key was turned, and the door opened just enough tolet in the tall man, who shut it behind him again as soon as he wasinside. He had a little electric torch, which he turned in my direction,so that the glare blinded me and I couldn't see him at all. 'It's nogood making all this row, Miss Turner,' he said, 'no sort of earthly,kicking up such a shindy as a young lady like you ought to be ashamed toraise. Besides,' he said, and now there was something in his tone thatturned me sick, 'it isn't _safe_. Do you understand? It is not _safe_.Now, you see I don't mean you any harm or I simply shouldn't bother towarn you. But no, I like the look of you, and I'm sorry to see you inthis house, where I tell you again it's dangerous to stay. But be asensible young lady and do as I tell you, and I'm blowed if I don't helpyou to escape when the time comes. What do you say to that? I can't sayfairer, can I?'
"I suppose you will think me a dreadful coward, but there was somethingabout the man which frightened me horribly. I think it was that heseemed to be himself in the extremity of fear. How I gathered thatimpression I am not sure. It may have been the low, hurried agitationof his voice, or the way in which his hand was shaking, so that thelight behind which he was concealed danced and wavered between us likea will-o'-the-wisp; or perhaps it was the mere telepathic infection offear. At all events I was ready to agree to anything he said, and jumpedat the idea of escape. 'I'll do anything, I'll be as quiet as a mouse,'I cried beseechingly, 'if you'll only let me go away.' 'That's right,'he said approvingly. 'I'll help you, never fear. And to show that Imean it,' he went on, 'here's a change of clothes for you. You'd neverescape in that white and red costume, you know.' He threw down a bundleon the table. 'Make haste and get into these togs, and let me take awayyour own things. I'll leave you the lamp to change by, but you must looksharp, and mind you change every single thing, down to your shift.'
"So saying he put down the lamp and left the room again. No sooner wasthe door shut than I caught up the lamp and ran to the window. Peeringthrough the glass, I tried to make out the fastening of the shutters andto see if I could get at it by putting my arm through the broken pane;but it was quite out of reach and I realised that I could do nothingwithout smashing more glass, and I did not dare do that now. So I putdown the lamp again, and fell to changing my clothes as the man hadsuggested.
"They were horrible clothes he had brought, and it made me sick to putthem on; but I felt he was right in saying that I could not escape in myevening dress. So, though I didn't see why I should change all my underthings, I thought there might be some reason for that also, and anyhowI think I was too much frightened not to do as I was told. It was soondone, but not too soon, for without so much as a knock the wretch walkedin again as I was fastening the last button of the shabby coat over achemise so rough that my skin prickled all over. He looked at me withsome satisfaction. 'You must alter your hair,' he said; 'do it up tightand plain, so that it won't show more than can be helped.'
"With that, he gathered up my clothes and went away, taking the lampwith him this time, and I saw no more of him for a long while. There wasno need to twist my hair up so hurriedly, for after that was done I satdown and waited for what seemed like days. It was terrible, waiting,waiting, waiting in the darkness, which my fears peopled with invisiblepresences, so that I found myself holding my breath lest the door handleshould turn again, and some one, or some thing, enter unheard by me. Atthe thought, I got up and dragged a heavy chair across the room, whereI sat down on it with my back against the door, my anxiety to get outquite forgotten and overwhelmed in the awful possibility of not beingcertain whether or not I were alone.
"If only Mrs. Vanderstein had still been with me. But, believe me, itwas not only selfishly that I longed for her: the vision of her, ill,and no doubt in danger equal to mine as an inmate of this dreadfulhouse, sat on me like a nightmare; and, if I was frightened by the perilof my own position, I trembled still more at the danger to which myfriend might be exposed. Why was the man afraid? It was the recollectionof his terror that cowed me, so that I sat there rigid, paralysed by thefear of I knew not what. From time to time noises broke the silence,the noise of people moving in the room above; and presently some onedescended the stairs and approached the door against which I crouched.
"A violent trembling fit seized me and my teeth chattered soconvulsively that I could hardly hear the footsteps outside; but theypassed on, and I heard a door opened at the end of the passage. Aminute later they returned, sounding loud on the linoleum of the halland muffled as they went up the stairs; only to come down again in afew moments. Over and over again this process was repeated: some oneapparently walking down the stairs, down the passage, and through a doorat the back of the house, then retracing his steps, and in a minute ortwo beginning all over again. This went on, I should think, for morethan an hour, and then after an interval I heard two people come downand go to the door; soon it was gently shut and only one pair of feetreturned.
"Presently another noise began--rather a comforting, familiar noise--thesound of sweeping and brushing, both on the stairs and in the roomoverhead. It seemed as if a housemaid were about, beginning themorning's work, for by now I could see through a tiny space in theshutters that it was daylight. I called out once: 'Is there anyonethere?' at which the noise of sweeping ceased, and a warning 'Hush' wasbreathed at me through the keyhole, close by my ear. After a time allthese sounds stopped altogether. The sweeper passed my door again, andagain went through the door at the end of the passage. This time it wasclosed with a snap of the lock, and then silence settled on the house. Idon't know how long I sat there without hearing a sound. I think I musthave dozed. I know I began to feel so stiff and tired that fear seemeda secondary consideration, and I didn't care what happened any more.Heaven knows how long he left me there, dozing and waking, perhaps forhours, perhaps for days. You know more about that than I do.
"It was after what seemed like a week that the storm began. It was thatwhich definitely roused me from the sort of stupor into which I hadfallen, and stirred me to rack my brains again for some means of escape.It was dreadfully hot in that little room; the atmosphere was close andstifling till it seemed to weigh one down with an unbearable oppression,and if it had not been for the glass I had broken--through which anoccasional breath of air penetrated by way of a crack in the shutter--Isuppose it would have been even worse than it was. From time to time Ihad been conscious of the distant rumbling of thunder, and hoped dimlythat it would clear the air, for before the storm actually burst my headwas like to split; and it was with a certain relief that I heard thefirst large drops of rain begin to fall. Soon afterwards there was atremendous clap of thunder.
"I was appallingly hungry, and wondered if I were being purposely leftto die of starvation. With a vague idea that I might find somethingedible I began feeling about again around the room and considering thepossibility, if the worst came to the worst, of eating my shoes, asI had heard of starving men being forced to do. But I was not hungryenough for that yet, and besides I wasn't sure if the soles of my satinslippers were of leather, or only _papier mache_. On the table myfingers came across a stump of pencil, and that distracted my thoughtsfor a little while. I had to feel it all over before I was sure what itwas; i
t was the point that made me almost certain, and I began at onceto ask myself whether I could not by some means send a message to theoutside world. I could think of no way of doing so, however, and even ifI could have, I had nothing to write on. Then the idea came to me ofwriting on the wall. I thought to myself that if the man meant to playme false, at least I could leave a token of my presence, which possiblyat some future day might lead to the punishment of these people. I knewthere were pictures on the walls, and feeling my way to the fire-place Ilifted up one hanging above it, so that by inserting my hand under theframe I could write on that part of the wallpaper which, as far as Icould tell, lay behind.
"I had only written a few words, when the key was turned and the dooropened. A rumbling of thunder had prevented my hearing the sound ofapproaching feet, and I had only just time to let the picture fall backinto its place and to move a few steps away from the mantelpiece beforethe black-bearded man entered the room. Fortunately, the chair I hadpushed against the door retarded its opening for a moment, or he wouldhave seen what I was doing. 'Come,' he said, taking hold of my arm, 'nowis the time for you to escape to a place of safety.'
"Without further words he led me into the hall, and along it to thefront door. Here we paused, while he opened it very cautiously andpeered out. For my part, I was more nervous with regard to dangers thatmight lurk in the house behind us; but his inspection of the outsideworld seemed to satisfy him, for picking up, to my astonishment, a largegarden spade that was leaning against the wall he opened the door wideand we passed through it together. I cannot tell you with what feelingsof gladness and thankfulness I hastened down the steps and out into thestreet, nor with what joy I felt my unrestrained feet splashing intothe puddles, and the free air of the night blow freshly on my face. Wehad gone some hundreds of yards and turned more than one corner beforeI dared speak. 'What has happened to my friend?' I then said; 'hasshe escaped too?' 'She has gone,' he answered evasively, and stillquickened his pace till I was half running to keep up with him.
"It was wild weather to be abroad: the storm was still at its heightand the flashes of lightning and the thunder claps succeeded eachother with increasing frequency; rain was falling in torrents, theroads and pavements were like seething rivers, and the gutters ran afoot deep at the edge of the kerb, as I discovered by stepping intoone when we crossed the street. There was not a soul to be seen exceptthe black-cloaked figure of an occasional policeman, and whenever weapproached one of these my companion gripped my arm more tightly, andwheeled away in a new direction. It was thus, with many turns and bycircuitous routes, that we progressed on our way. And, though I askedmore than once where we were going, not another word did I extract fromthe black-bearded man; and I soon fell the more readily into a likesilence, as the rapid pace at which we walked left me little breath forspeech.
"In this manner, and after we had hurried along for at least half anhour, we made our way into an enclosure, which I guessed to be Regent'sPark. The first elation caused by leaving the house where I had beenimprisoned was wearing off and I had time to ask myself whither I wasbeing led, receiving in reply no very comforting assurances. Was I beingtaken from one place of incarceration to another? I wondered, and at thethought I tried to shake off the hand that lay upon my arm. 'If you willlet me go now,' I said timidly, 'I shall be all right by myself. I shallnever forget that you helped me to escape, but now, if you don't mind,I--I had rather be alone.' But I got no answer, nor did the clutch on myarm relax. In a fresh panic I made up my mind that the next time we sawa policeman I would scream for help.
"It was not many minutes after I had taken this decision that mycompanion paused in his rapid walk; and after looking about himdoubtfully seemed to recognise some landmark in the darkness, and cameto a sudden halt. 'Can you get over these railings?' he said. We hadbeen following the line of an iron fence that bordered the path, and Icould feel rather than see that it reached above the height of my waistand was ornamented with spikes. 'I think it is hardly possible,' Ireplied; 'but why should I get over?' He did not answer, but seemed toconsider. 'I think I can lift you over,' he said at length, and beforeI could object he had his arms around me, and with a tremendous effortswung me up in the air and across the railings. 'Now you must help me,'he said, holding tightly to my arm as I landed safely on the other side.And partly by my help, partly by holding on to a tree that leant upagainst the fence near by, he managed to scramble over.
"Now, by the roughness of the ground under my feet, I knew we wereon the grass, even before a flash of lightning showed me that wehad wandered away from the fence and were standing on the top of anembankment, at the bottom of which I caught sight of a high woodenpaling. With instinctive reluctance, I hung back as my companion beganto descend the bank, tugging me in his wake. At the bottom of thehill we came to the high wall, which we followed for a little way,and presently stopped before an opening through which I saw the gleamof water. 'We must get through here,' said the man. 'There's plentyof room where these two boards have been torn off.' There was, as hesaid, a gap where some planks were missing and only the cross piecesof wood remained. 'Why should we go this way?' I asked again, full ofmisgivings. 'Where are you taking me?' 'Where you will be safe,' saidhe. 'Come on,' and stepping before me through the gap he dragged meroughly after him.
"Then, for the first time, he suddenly removed the hand that all thiswhile had clutched me by the arm; and as I stood there, bewildered,not knowing what to do with my freedom, the scene was lighted up by atremendous flash, brighter than any that had gone before, and I saw thathe was fumbling with a cord that was attached to the handle of the spadehe carried. His arms were stretched towards me, and before the light hadfaded from the sky I realised that he was trying to throw the end of therope round my neck, passing it from one hand to the other as he did so.
"Perhaps I leapt too suddenly to a conclusion, or perhaps--as I thinkmore likely--my understanding was quickened by fear, but in that instantI became as certain of his intention as though he had explained it tome in every detail. He was going to drown me in the canal, first tyingthe heavy spade to me to make sure that I should sink, never to riseagain. I screamed aloud and pushed him away with all my strength. Onthat steeply sloping bank he was at a disadvantage, the rain had made itslippery, and for a minute I frustrated his purpose. Then came anotherflash, and by it the man seemed to catch sight of something behind me,which at the same time horrified and infuriated him, for I saw hisexpression change, and with a snarl of frightened rage he lifted upthe spade and hit at me with it. Somehow I managed to jump aside, butI saw him raise it for another blow, and after that--after that--I canremember no more."
Barbara's story was finished. It had been told slowly, and at intervalsthe girl lay back with closed eyes, too weak to continue. But on anyproposal to defer her account to another day she had roused herself,and proceeded with it resolutely till she came to the end.
The shadows had time to grow long during the telling of it, so thatwhen at length, after they had finally taken leave of the invalid andissued forth once more from the doors of the hospital, the two men foundthemselves again in the open air it was already dinnertime.
"Come back with me, Jennins, and have something to eat," said Gimblet,as they walked away. "There is sure to be food of sorts ready for me atthe flat."
But Jennins was bound elsewhere.
"I'm going to have a try at hunting out that horse," he said. "MissTurner thinks she'd know it again and, as she says, the number of duncoloured beasts with a decided dish and a peculiar crooked blaze ofwhite over the nose and one eye must be more or less limited. Then,you remember, she thinks the driver was no other than our friend West,and if, after he had set the ladies down in Scholefield Avenue, he wasless than half an hour in making his reappearance, one may argue thatthe stables were not half a mile away from No. 13. Don't you think I amright?"
"I think your reasoning is perfectly sound," said Gimblet. "You ought tobe able to find out something about the horse without much troub
le; andincidentally, I hope, about the driver. Let me know as soon as you havenews. For my part I will try and see if I can't get some informationabout him also. In the meantime, I've eaten nothing since breakfast, andexhausted nature calls. I'm off to get some dinner."
"I suppose," Jennins called after him, "from what you said to me thisafternoon, that you have ascertained that this Madame Querterot isbeyond our reach for the moment?"
"Yes," said Gimblet.
"And do you think the girl, her daughter, has any idea as to the woman'swhereabouts?"
"No," said Gimblet gently, "I am sure she has not."
In the flat Gimblet found a telegram awaiting him. It was from Boulogne,and ran as follows:
"Murdered woman not my aunt Mrs. Vanderstein or anyone known to me there is no clue to her identity.
"SIDNEY."
Gimblet crumpled it up and flung it into a waste-paper basket.
"A pity to squander five shillings," he murmured, "in telling me what Ialready knew."
Then he hastened hungrily to the dining-room.
After a hearty meal he felt considerably better, and when he presentlypushed back his chair and strolled over to the open window he was readyand eager for more work. His mind, which had been busy during the mealwith attempts to devise a plan that should bring him to closer quarterswith the person he most desired to meet, that should cause the phantomfigure of Mr. West of the black beard to materialise and become a solidform discernible to the naked eye and capable of wearing handcuffs, hadnot yet furnished him with a method by which this desirable object mightbe attained.
"Surely," he said to himself, "I must be able to trace MadameQuerterot's meetings with this man. It is impossible that she can havebeen on such terms of intimacy with him without some one knowing it."
He looked at his watch, helped himself to a sweet from a box which stoodon the shelf, and decided to go down to Pimlico and see if he could notfind out something more from Julie. It was half-past nine, but she wasnot likely to have gone to bed yet, and he wanted a specimen of hermother's handwriting.
He went out and took a taxi to Warwick Square, where he dismissed it,and pursued his way on foot.
It was quite dark by now, with the soft blue darkness of summer, forthe weather had turned warm again and the sun had gone down in a clearsky. There were plenty of people about, as it was Saturday night; many asmall coin was being carried snug in its earner's pocket that would nolonger be lying there in a couple of hours' time, and the tills of thepublicans were already flooded with the rise of the weekly tide.
As he drew near the little shop in the gloomy, sordid little street, thedoor of it opened suddenly and a man came out and walked rapidly away.After a few steps he paused; and, turning, gazed for a moment longinglyback at the window--from which a pale light shone forth, so that thepavement beneath it was bathed in a gentle radiance--before he swunground once more and made off up the street. It happened that, as hestood for that instant, hesitating perhaps whether or no to return andmake a final appeal to the girl he worshipped, the light of the streetlamp fell full upon his white, haggard face; and Gimblet, with a start,experienced the surprise of his life, as he realised that he and Berthad met before.
Everything was clear to him now, and, with a sigh of something betweenrelief and regret, he abandoned his proposed visit to Julie and wentabout the ordering of more important business.
* * * * *
An hour later, Albert Tremmels, clerk to Messrs. Ennidge and Pring,house agents, was arrested in his lodgings for the murders of Mrs.Vanderstein and Madame Querterot, and for the attempted murder of MissTurner.
Mrs. Vanderstein's jewels Page 23