The Stolen Statesman: Being the Story of a Hushed Up Mystery

by William Le Queux

in Monkton's cupboard. The man was as straight as a die, andhe was passionately attached to his beautiful wife. Well, Mr Wingate,give my best regards to dear Miss Sheila. I will send those boxes roundto-day."

  He was as good as his word. Late in the afternoon they arrived, andSheila at once set to work reading the various papers, not, it must beconfessed, in a very hopeful spirit.

  But when Wingate came round in the evening he found her in a state ofgreatest excitement.

  She took from an envelope a letter containing only a few words andpassed it to him. "Read that, and tell me what you make of it," shesaid. "There is no formal beginning, and no signature. But you see itis addressed to my father, and was evidently delivered by hand."

  Upon the flap of the faded envelope Wingate saw some initials, two C'sin a cipher scroll embossed in black, an old-fashioned monogram such aswas in vogue in the early "sixties."

  Then he read upon the half-sheet of notepaper, traced in a bold hand inink that was brown, as follows:

  "You have ruined and disgraced me, and forced me to fly the country and become a wanderer on the face of the earth. Well, I will be even with you. I will wait, if necessary all my life, till my turn comes. Then, when it does, I will strike you at the zenith of your career, and mete out to you the suffering you have dealt to me."

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

  IN WHICH SMEATON MAKES A DISCOVERY.

  Wingate laid down the letter and looked at Sheila, who was regarding himexpectantly.

  "What do you make of it?" she repeated.

  "It is evident that he had an enemy, and a very bitter one," answeredher lover. "The sentences are deliberate, but they appear to have beenwritten by a man who was in a white heat of passion when he pennedthem."

  "Smeaton ought to see that letter, without loss of time, dear," shesaid.

  "I quite agree. His trained intelligence may get more out of it than wecan. I will make an appointment with him for to-morrow morning, and Iwill be here when he comes."

  Smeaton arrived next morning, hoping that at last he might discover asubstantial clue. He read the brief note carefully and deliberately.

  "Is it important, do you think?" inquired Sheila eagerly.

  "In my opinion it is of very considerable importance. Miss Monkton," hereplied. "I think it will help us."

  "It certainly proves that he had a secret enemy," interjected Wingate,"and one who would hesitate at nothing that would secure him revenge."

  "I quite agree, sir. The letter breathes the most intense hatred inevery line. The motive of that hatred we have got to discover."

  Then the detective, turning to Sheila, said: "Now, Miss Monkton, thereis a little information that I am sure you will be able to give us. Iam not so well posted in your father's biography as I ought to be. But,before he became a prominent politician, I understand that he was abarrister with an extensive and lucrative practice."

  "That is so," corroborated Sheila. "He did not often talk about thosetimes, but I have always understood that he made quite a big income atthe Bar."

  "And when did he retire from his profession?"

  "About fifteen years ago."

  "And he resolved to say good-bye to the Bar and devote himself entirelyto politics?"

  Sheila nodded. "That is quite true. He had a very firm opinion that aman could not serve two masters."

  "Was he on the Chancery or the Common Law side?" was Smeaton's nextquestion.

  "On the Common Law," replied Sheila. "But why do you ask thatquestion?"

  "You shall know in good time. Miss Monkton. Well, we may take it,then, that this vindictive letter was written more than fifteen yearsago."

  "While he was still at the Bar," interrupted Wingate, who was beginningto realise the point of the detective's reasoning. "You are assumingthat this venomous epistle did not come from a political enemy."

  "It is an assumption for which I have reasonable grounds," was Smeaton'sanswer. "There has been no bitterness in party politics ever since MrMonkton became a conspicuous figure in the House. And we know that,while he was most popular with his own side, he was respected and likedby his political opponents."

  "Is it too much to ask you to give us the benefit of any theory you haveformed, Mr Smeaton?" suggested Sheila, in her pretty, gracious way.

  "With all the pleasure in life, my dear young lady. This letter goesback, in my opinion, to your father's barrister days, when he was one ofthe foremost counsel in England. I asked you just now whether he was onthe Equity or the Common Law side, and you wondered why I asked thequestion."

  "I am still wondering," said Sheila simply.

  "On the Equity side they try all sorts of cases concerned with points oflaw, the majority of them of a very dry and uninteresting character. Ishould not look in an Equity case for a defeated litigant who would turninto a vindictive enemy of the type of the writer of this letter."

  The young people began to see, as yet very dimly, whither he was leadingthem.

  "On the Common Law side, on the contrary, we are brought into the worldof human passion and emotion; one in which the issues of life or deathare at stake. We will suppose that your father, in the plenitude of hispowers, is retained as counsel against some adroit rogue, some swindlingcompany promoter, for example, who up to that moment had managed to keephimself well on the right side of the law."

  They began to see light, and listened with the closest attention.

  "We will say this swindler, a more than usually clever rascal, is livingin luxury with his ill-gotten gains, when he makes a slip that bringshim within reach of the long arm of justice. One of his victims (orperhaps several in combination) brings an action against him for thereturn of the money he has inveigled out of him by his lyingprospectuses. He employs big counsel to defend him, but your fatherwins his case. The wealthy rogue is forced to disgorge, finds hisoccupation gone, and is reduced to penury."

  Sheila nodded to show that she was following his argument.

  "I am assuming for a moment that it is a civil action, and that itdisclosed sufficient evidence to justify his arrest on a criminal chargelater on. I deduce that from the fact that he was not a convicted felonat the time of writing that letter, otherwise he would not have beenable to write and send it to your father. The meaning of the words`forced me to fly the country' indicate, in my opinion, that he was inhourly fear of arrest."

  "It seems a very feasible theory," remarked Wingate.

  "The rest is easy to understand. He nourishes a morbid hatred for theman who has been the means of menacing his liberty, and driving him fromthe society he polluted. He regards him as a personal enemy, not merelythe instrument of the justice he has defied. While smarting under this,to his distorted ideas, sense of wrong, he pens the letter and has itconveyed to your father by some trusted confederate. As there is nostamp or postmark on it, it was conveyed by hand."

  Wingate looked at Sheila, and she returned his glance. They were bothgreatly impressed by the detective's clear reasoning.

  Smeaton took up the half-sheet of notepaper, and submitted it to a closeobservation.

  "The man who wrote it is, I should judge, a keen business man ofmethodical habits, inclined to neatness, of a strong but not impulsivecharacter. An impulsive man would have torn the sheet across, leaving arough and jagged edge. It has been pressed down with the finger andthumb, and then carefully cut."

  He held the small sheet up to the light, and made further observations.

  "A peculiar paper, peculiar, I mean, as to the texture. The watermark,in its entirety, is, fortunately for us, on this half-sheet. Thatenables us to trace where it comes from. Come here for a moment andstand beside me."

  They did so, followed his pointing finger, and saw a shield bearing acoat-of-arms, and beneath, the words: "Westford Mill."

  "That will help you," cried Sheila eagerly.

  "I hope so. It is, as I said, a paper of peculiar texture, anddoubtless many tons of it have been sold. If, as I
guess, it is now offthe market, I shall be compelled to fix a date. If I do that, it wouldconsiderably narrow the field of my inquiries."

  After a little further conversation, Smeaton took his leave with theletter in his possession. Sheila and Wingate, when they were alone,indulged in mutual admiration of his powers of analysis and deduction.

  The detective, an hour later, looked in upon Mr Newsom-Perry, with whomhe was slightly acquainted, and handed him the document.

  "We found this amongst the papers you sent to Miss Monkton," heexplained. "I called on the chance of finding that your client hadspoken to you, at one time or another, of some man who sent him athreatening letter. I may say that we have found no allusion to itamongst the