by Clara Benson
Still talking pleasantly he hailed her a taxi, and waved away her thanks as she got in. As the cab drew away she looked back to see Pearl Maywood standing in the doorway of the hotel, summoning him back inside with expressive gestures.
William was torn between the demands of common gratitude and a desire to sit and fume silently when she finally saw him. After a muttered thanks, he seemed unwilling to say anything more in answer to her questions until Angela fixed him with a stern look and said:
‘There’s absolutely no use in your keeping quiet, you know. I’ve spoken to Daisy and she’s told me everything.’
At that he turned a deep shade of pink and clamped his mouth shut even more tightly. Angela went on:
‘You’re in a mess, and if you want to get out of it then you’d better tell me what you know. Now, be truthful: did you ask Daisy to run away with you?’
He glared at her, then said reluctantly:
‘Yes.’
‘But she wouldn’t come?’
‘Is that what she said?’
‘Yes,’ said Angela. ‘Did you think she was going to?’
‘That’s what she told me.’
‘You’re absolutely sure of that? She didn’t perhaps say something vague that made you only think she was going to leave her husband?’
‘No,’ he said patiently. ‘She told me she was going to leave him in so many words. But then she changed her mind.’
‘She changed her mind? Why?’
He gazed at her miserably, then looked down at his hands.
‘The night before the money was stolen, she came to tell me that he’d gone into a fury because he suspected there was something going on between us. She said he threatened to kill her if she ever spoke to me again, so she was breaking it off then and there because she was too afraid of him. She said she’d never seen him so angry before, and she was scared of what he was going to do. I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn’t listen—said she was terrified that it was all going to blow up. I guess I thought she was over-reacting, but the next day when the money went missing and Mr. Owens found some of it in my room, I realized she’d been right all along. I thought he’d shout and yell and maybe fire me for getting too close to Daisy, but I never guessed he’d do this. That was his revenge on me.’
‘Do you think he hid the money and made sure you got the blame for its disappearance?’
‘That’s about the size of it. He stood right there in my room, with half the company out in the corridor listening, and accused me of taking it.’
‘Did you take it?’ said Angela gently. ‘Daisy says she thinks you did. She believes you misunderstood her intentions and took it so you could run away together.’
‘No!’ he exclaimed. ‘I swear to you I never touched it! I’m poor, and I know it would have been hard at first, but I was willing to work. I told her that. And I would have protected her from anything, but it’s pretty obvious she didn’t believe it.’ He swallowed. ‘She was there when he accused me, but she wouldn’t speak up for me. She turned her face away when I looked at her, and I knew then I’d get no help from her.’
‘But if she believed you took the money—’
‘She knows perfectly well I didn’t take the money. Listen, I don’t care what she told you. She was going to come away with me—there’s no doubt about that—but she was scared into changing her mind. I think she knows that Emmett planted the money on me, but she’s too afraid to speak up. That’s why I ran. If she wasn’t planning to stand by me then there didn’t seem much sense in my sticking around to try and clear my name, because it was pretty clear that Emmett was going to make sure I ended up in jail one way or another.’
‘Not exactly the loyal type, is she?’ said Angela. ‘She let you take the blame for the theft and told me she’d never intended to leave her husband in the first place even though it wasn’t true.’
‘Don’t say that!’ he said fiercely. ‘She couldn’t help it. She’d have stood by me if it had been anyone but Emmett. You don’t know what he’s like. He’s cruel to her, and she never ought to have married him in the first place. She’s not strong enough to stand up to him. I can’t hate her for that.’
Angela regarded him sympathetically. It seemed a dreadful situation altogether, but she was by no means certain that Emmett Owens was responsible for what had happened.
‘This hundred dollars that was found in your room,’ she said. ‘When was it put there? Have you any idea?’
‘It must have been while I was at breakfast,’ he said. ‘It wasn’t there before I went downstairs.’
‘Do you think one of your brothers might have done it? I couldn’t help noticing yesterday that Bart in particular seems to be rather sweet on Daisy.’
William stared.
‘He wouldn’t do that,’ he said at last. ‘He did like Daisy—everyone knew that, but she made it clear even before she got married that she wasn’t interested in him.’
‘Might he have done it out of jealousy? Did he know of your friendship with Daisy?’
‘I don’t know.’ He seemed to be considering this new idea, then shook his head. ‘No. We don’t get along, but he doesn’t hate me enough to do something like that, I’m sure of it.’
‘He hated you enough to hold you while the police were called the other day,’ Angela pointed out.
That seemed to stump him, and he fell into a brooding silence.
‘Have your brothers ever had a dog act?’ she wanted to know.
‘A dog act?’ he seemed astonished. ‘Why, yes, a few years ago we had a couple of performing dogs, although nothing much ever came of it. Why?’
‘You told me yourself that Mr. Owens suspected you because somebody had to get past the dogs. If you could do it then why not your brothers? You said the dogs liked you, but might they also have liked Bart?’
‘They might have,’ he said doubtfully. ‘Most people kept well away, but I guess it’s possible that Bart knew how to handle ’em. Although if he did he never said a word.’
Their time was now up, and Angela rose to leave. She went back to the hotel, wondering about the Renshaws. They might certainly have disliked their brother enough to pin the crime on him, but there was still the vexed question of Ida the maid, who swore she had stood in the third floor corridor all the time the Owens’ were at breakfast, and that nobody could have passed without her seeing them. Perhaps Emmett Owens had done it, then. He was certainly the most obvious suspect—or would have been, had it not been for the fact that when the theft had first been discovered he had gone into a rage and accused Ida of being responsible. Moreover, yesterday he had wanted to see William to demand of him the whereabouts of the money, and had seemed genuinely angry when the visit had been denied him. Those two incidents did not seem to fit the picture of a man who was pretending to have been the victim of a crime for purposes of his own.
Angela arrived back at the hotel just before lunch-time, still pondering the problem and trying to decide upon her next steps. As she entered the lobby she saw that Theodosia La Reine, the contortionist, had come in just before her. She was talking animatedly to the two singing ladies, and had evidently suffered a mishap, for she was soaking wet and indicating a broken umbrella. She saw Angela and grinned ruefully.
‘Looks like I’ll need a new one!’ she said, and ran off, presumably to change. Just then Flora Winterson came in.
‘Oh, Angela—’ she began, and stopped, because Angela was standing quite still, gazing after Theodosia as though she had just seen a ghost.
Flora waved a hand in front of her face.
‘A penny for your thoughts,’ she said. Angela turned and stared at her, then seemed to come to herself.
‘I beg your pardon—I was just thinking about something Ida said yesterday,’ she said.
‘Who’s Ida?’ said Flora.
Angela
did not answer for a moment.
‘Why did Ham get wet on the way to the matinee on Wednesday?’ she said suddenly.
Flora looked surprised at the sudden turn in the conversation.
‘Did he?’ she said.
‘So I understand from Pearl.’
‘Maybe he forgot his umbrella.’
‘But he told me he always carries one, and it’s been raining all week.’
‘Well, then, perhaps he lent it to someone else.’
‘Perhaps he did,’ said Angela. ‘I don’t suppose you remember whether Daisy got wet too that day, do you?’
Flora was looking increasingly puzzled, but she set herself to think.
‘No, she didn’t,’ she said, remembering. ‘She arrived at the theatre with an umbrella—I remember particularly because she had trouble lowering it and Howard had to help her. But she was perfectly dry.’
‘That is very interesting,’ said Angela, and went slowly upstairs.
She went into her room and spent some minutes looking out of the window and thinking. At length she went back out into the corridor and looked about her. The door diagonally opposite was standing open, and a maid came out. She was much younger and more alert-looking than Ida, and she regarded Angela questioningly.
‘You’re Victoria, aren’t you?’ said Angela.
‘Yes’m,’ replied the girl.
Victoria was just as willing to talk as Ida, it seemed. She had been cleaning the second floor at breakfast-time on Wednesday, but had been in and out of the various rooms, and freely confessed that anybody might have walked past with three thousand dollars sticking out of his top pocket without her seeing him. She had certainly not seen William, who, if he were guilty, must have come back to his room during breakfast to deposit the stolen hundred dollars.
‘No, ma’am,’ she said. ‘The only person I see is that good-looking feller with the umbrella. He forgot his key so I had to let him in.’
‘Do you mean Hamilton Maywood?’
‘I guess that’s his name. The one with the sharp-eyed wife. He tipped me nicely, I’ll say that for him.’
Angela reached a sudden decision.
‘If I tipped you nicely, would you let me into his room too?’ she said.
Victoria stared in astonishment.
‘Why, you just come out of it,’ she said.
For a second Angela did not understand her, then she realized what the maid was saying.
‘Do you mean this one?’ she said, indicating the open door to her own room, which, until two days ago, had been William’s.
‘Yes, ma’am. That’s the room I let him into. Looks like you’ve all changed rooms now.’
‘Not exactly,’ said Angela. ‘Wait here—I shall want you in a minute, and that offer of a tip is still open.’
She ran downstairs and asked the man at the desk for the number of the Maywoods’ room, saying that she wished to slip a note under their door. Then she went and peeped into the dining-room, where most of the vaudeville players were having lunch, including the Maywoods.
‘I need to get into room 26,’ she said to Victoria when she returned.
‘You ain’t going to steal nothin’, are you?’ said the girl doubtfully.
‘Certainly not,’ said Angela, and explained what she was about.
‘Well,’ said Victoria, thinking. ‘I oughtn’t to let you do it, but if it’s going to help somebody I guess it can’t do no harm. Now, I ain’t cleaned that room yet, so it may be that I open the door but forget my pail and have to go look for it before I can start.’
‘That will do very nicely, thank you,’ said Angela.
Victoria unlocked the door to room 26.
‘I’ll give you five minutes,’ she said, and disappeared.
Angela went in quietly. If she was right in her supposition, then she would not need five minutes. She glanced about her. The Maywoods were a tidy couple, it seemed, for all their things were arranged in a neat and orderly fashion. Some clothes were folded on a chair, and one or two personal effects were laid out on the tiny dressing-table. Angela’s eye passed over a chest of drawers and a wash-stand, and came to rest on a tall, narrow closet in the corner. She moved quickly towards it and opened the door. Something she saw inside made her smile, and she reached forward to take it.
‘Just what do you think you’re doing?’ came a voice behind her. Angela started violently and swung round to see Pearl and Hamilton Maywood standing in the doorway. Hamilton had gone white, but Pearl’s face was like thunder.
‘How dare you?’ she exclaimed, and raised her voice. ‘Mr. Owens!’
It seemed Emmett Owens had come upstairs with them, for he now appeared in the doorway, with Daisy behind him.
‘What’s all this?’ he growled.
Pearl marched into the room.
‘What are you doing in our closet?’ she demanded.
Angela retreated a step or two and glanced at the thing she was holding. It was a shabby black umbrella which had been fastened up roughly and shoved away at the back of the closet. It bulged oddly.
‘You don’t mind, do you?’ she said. ‘I just came in to borrow an umbrella. This one ought to do nicely, I think.’
‘No!’ cried Daisy, and started forward.
But it was too late, because Angela had already undone the strap. She raised the umbrella and opened it, and they all froze and stared as dozens of little bundles of money rained from it onto her head and then fell to the floor.
There was a brief silence. Angela brushed a stray dollar bill from her shoulder.
‘Well, fancy that!’ she said.
Daisy gasped, then turned to Hamilton. Her pretty face was screwed up into a look of venom, and she took a step towards him.
‘You fool!’ she spat. ‘Why didn’t you hide it better?’
‘Daisy and Hamilton were planning to run away to Hollywood together,’ explained Angela, as she sat with Flora and Howard in the hotel lounge. There was still half an hour before the Wintersons had to be back at the Neptune for the evening performance, and they were eager to hear the whole story from Angela so they could relay it to the rest of the company. ‘They wanted money to fund their escape, but they couldn’t just steal it from Emmett and leave, as they knew he’d come after them and have them arrested. What they needed was someone to pin the blame on. That was poor William. Daisy rather led him on, I’m afraid, under the pretence of her fear of Emmett. She’s very clever at awakening the protective instinct in a man, and she convinced William that Emmett was treating her unkindly—convinced everyone, in fact. She had no intention of going away with William, but if he believed she did, then that would give him a motive for the theft in everyone else’s eyes.’
‘But what made you first suspect her?’ said Flora breathlessly.
‘She and Emmett were the obvious suspects from the start, since they were the only people who could easily get at the money,’ said Angela. ‘At first I assumed Emmett had hidden it and put the blame on William in revenge for his presumed interest in Daisy, but he appeared so genuinely upset at the loss that that theory didn’t seem to fit. Jimmy and Bart disliked their brother, and there was just a possibility that they might have been able to slip past the dogs, but how could they have got the key to Emmett’s cash box? That left Daisy. At first I couldn’t see how she could have done it, since she and Emmett had been together during the whole period in which the money was supposed to have been taken, but still I wondered about her and watched her. The first thing I saw was that she was not quite the timid little mouse she liked to present herself as being: I saw her and Emmett together in an unguarded moment, and it didn’t seem to me that she was anywhere near as terrified of him as she’d led us all to believe—on the contrary, she treated him with some affection and he liked it. In fact, she seemed to have half the men in the place dancing attendance
upon her. Bart Renshaw was in love with her and she clearly knew it, while Hamilton risked the wrath of his jealous wife to hold Daisy’s hand and rehearse a love song with her three times in a row. Yes, I wondered about Daisy very much, but I couldn’t see how she could have spirited the money away without being caught. Then yesterday Pearl told me that Hamilton had got drenched on the way to the theatre on Wednesday. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but later it occurred to me to ask why, since he’d told me himself that he never went anywhere without an umbrella. He was carrying a new one today, and I wondered what had happened to the old one to make him go out without it on the day of the theft. Then I suddenly remembered what Ida the maid had told me. She said that on Wednesday morning the Owens’ took a little while to get down to breakfast as they kept forgetting things and having to run back for them. One of those things was Daisy’s umbrella. At that moment I saw how it must have been done. Emmett kept all his keys on a chain, including the key to his room. Daisy asked to borrow them just for a few moments, and left him waiting with the dogs in the corridor while she went back in. As quick as lightning she picked up the umbrella, opened the cash box and tipped the money into it, then fastened it up and took it down to breakfast. Of course she couldn’t keep the umbrella with her, as she’d be bound to be discovered immediately. She needed to pass the money on to her accomplice as quickly as possible, so he could play his part. Hamilton had also brought his umbrella down to breakfast, and she put hers next to his in the rack. He took it and went upstairs to the second floor, where he duly planted a hundred dollars of the stolen money in William’s room. Then he shoved the umbrella full of money at the back of his own closet, went out and got very wet. Daisy, of course, took Ham’s umbrella and arrived at the theatre perfectly dry. They planned to wait until the hue and cry had well and truly died down before they made their escape. She was terribly cold-blooded about it all. When she found out I’d got William a lawyer she sought me out and asked me whether I thought he would be sent to prison. She made it sound as though she was inquiring out of concern, but in fact she was merely pumping me for information, as she wanted to know whether the conspiracy had been successful. It was vitally important to them that William should be convicted of the crime, so that no suspicion of theft would fall on Daisy and Ham when they eventually eloped. After all, everyone knew of Emmett’s cruelty, so nobody would be especially surprised if Daisy were to leave him, but she didn’t want to be pursued as a thief after she’d gone. She and Ham intended to try their luck in films once he had divorced Pearl.’