The Cardinal Moth

by Fred M. White

  *CHAPTER XXV.*

  *A STRIKING LIKENESS.*

  Frobisher had passed a bad night, and he looked as if he were likely tohave an equally unpleasant morning. A small dealer out St. Alban's wayclaimed to have found three new orchids in his last speculative parcel,and Frobisher had set his mind on seeing them before some other soullessand selfish collector stepped in. But a slip of blue paper, humorouslyaccompanied by a shilling, told him that his presence was imperative atthe adjourned inquest on the body of the man unknown, who had been foundmurdered in the greenhouse at Streatham.

  "Now what possible connection can I have with that?" he grumbled, as heate his breakfast. "It was bad enough for Manfred to thoughtlessly losehis life in my conservatory: And here's a letter from George Arnott. Hehas a great deal of complaint about you, Angela."

  "I am properly flattered by his consideration," Angela said coldly.

  "Oh, that's all very well, young lady. But you are going to marryGeorge Arnott all the same. That young scoundrel Denvers had better makethe most of his time."

  "He will do that without any encouragement from you," Angela replied."Mr. Arnott is an unspeakable little cad, and I would as soon marry yourbutler. Indeed, I insult the butler by comparison."

  An ugly smile crossed Frobisher's face, but he carried the conversationno further. He was puzzled and bewildered, and neither feeling waspalatable. He had been outgeneralled by a woman, and the reflection wasbitter. But he was going to have his own way over this matter, asAngela would discover.

  "Mr. Arnott to see you, sir," the butler announced. "In the library,sir."

  Arnott seemed to be anxious about something. He was fussing up and downthe library with a mass of papers in his hand. His manner was hardlyflattering.

  "Well, you have made a nice mess of it," he said, "you and Lefroybetween you. He's bolted." Frobisher chuckled for the first time sincehe rose.

  "Bet you a penny old Benstein had found out all about those forgeries,"he said. "Lefroy didn't know that I was _au fait_ as to thattransaction. So Lefroy has retired discreetly--urgent business onbehalf of the master, and all that kind of thing, eh? That leaves thefield clear for us."

  "To a certain extent, perhaps. But you won't get the concessions.Hamid Khan has been utterly beaten by Mrs. Benstein and your friendHarold Denvers. It appears that Mrs. Benstein knew Hamid Khan yearsago, he being no more of a Koord than you or I. The Shan has dismissedhim, and at the present moment is on his way to Paris with Denvers."

  A round rasping oath shot from Frobisher's lips. "So that youngblackguard was in it," he exclaimed. "I fancied so."

  "In it! In it up to his neck. I bribed one of the Shan's servants.Why, Denvers, calling himself Aben Abdullah or some such name, andbeautifully disguised, was in your house the night before last at yourwife's dance. It was he who stopped your little game and enabled Mrs.Benstein to turn the tables on you. Those concessions are as good as inDenvers' pocket."

  "But where did the money come from to get that gem out of Benstein'sclutches? I know for a fact that the Shan is desperately hard up forthe moment."

  "What does that matter?" Arnott asked irritably. "You were at Mrs.Benstein's luncheon-party at the Belgrave yesterday. Who was therebesides the actors in the game? You are losing your wits, Frobisher.What do you suppose Parkford was doing there?"

  Frobisher slapped his bald head helplessly.

  "I never thought of that," he said blankly. "I'd go to Paris myself,only I've got to attend an inquest. Come and dine quietly to-night anddiscuss the plan of campaign. I shall find some way out yet. Now justyou toddle off and keep your tongue between your teeth."

  "And what about Miss Lyne?" Arnott asked.

  "That's going to be all right--you can safely trust the young lady tome. She doesn't realise what I am capable of. Though why you shouldwant to marry a girl who hates you and despises you from the bottom ofher heart is more than I can comprehend. Eight o'clock sharp to-night."

  Frobisher travelled down to Streatham a little later, and devoutly hopedthat his own evidence would be a matter of form. But the hall in whichthe inquest was to be held was crammed with curious onlookers, for thedual sensation caused by two mysterious deaths under similarcircumstances had not been forgotten by the public. Frobisher butrarely glanced at the newspapers except _The Times_, or he would haveknown that "the orchid mystery," as it had been called, was thesensation of the hour. Only by the aid of two friendly policemen did hereach a seat in court.

  The proceedings were drawing on, evidence of a formal nature only beingcalled at present. Frobisher nodded to Inspector Townsend, whom herecognized as an old acquaintance.

  "Something horribly nasty about perspiring humanity," he said. "Ishould like to turn a garden-hose on to the gallery yonder. What onearth do you want me for, Townsend?"

  Townsend admitted that there might be one or two points on which SirClement's evidence might prove material. He was not quite sure what thebarrister for the authorities had in his mind. Frobisher glanced at hiswatch from time to time impatiently; he had forgotten his surroundingsutterly, when the sound of his own name brought him back to the presentwith a start. Leisurely and with perfect self-possession he entered thebox and was sworn.

  "I want to ask you a few questions," the Crown counsel said. "You haveread something of the case, Sir Clement?"

  "I have heard of it, though I am afraid I shall be of very little use toyou."

  "We shall see. This man, whom I shall call the unknown for the reasonthat he has not yet been identified, was found dead, murdered in agreenhouse at Streatham. He had been strangled by means of a hair ropetwisted about his neck and pulled tight with great force from behind."

  "That you are perfectly sure of?" Frobisher said with a suggestion of agrin.

  "At any rate, it will serve for a theory at present. In thatgreenhouse, upon the authority of Thomas Silverthorne, was a valuableorchid which had been placed there by a stranger some time before.After the murder of the unknown that orchid had absolutely disappeared."

  "Very strange," Frobisher said indifferently, "but of no particularinterest to me."

  "Perhaps we shall make it more interesting presently," Counsel retorted."We are inclined to believe that two people were after the orchid--theman who was killed and the man who killed him and took the orchid away.The plant must have been singularly valuable and possibly unique in itsway to induce a crime like this. The whole thing is very strange andsingular, and it is rendered more so by the fact that a preciselysimilar crime was committed in your conservatory the same night. Youhave valuable orchids, Sir Clement?"

  Frobisher nodded. He was not quite so cool now, and an irritating lumpwas working at the back of his throat. His quick mind began to see whatwas behind these apparently innocent questions.

  "I have probably the finest collection in England," he replied.

  "Many of them would tempt a thief, I suppose?"

  "Well, I dare say. There are orchid collectors all over the world, yousee. Once a man gets hold of that passion it seldom leaves him. Avaluable stolen orchid would be a marketable commodity."

  "The same as stolen books or prints, eh? The commercial morality of allcollectors is supposed to be low. What you mean to say is that anorchid of repute would be bought by some collectors well knowing that ithad been obtained by questionable means?"

  "I've no doubt about it," Frobisher admitted. "I have known such cases."

  "Then here we have a motive for the crime. Let me refer to your own casefor a moment. What do you suppose Mr. Manfred was doing in yourconservatory at the time he died? He refused to dine under plea of aheadache; he was supposed to be lying down, and yet he was found deadnear your flowers. Do you think he was after one of them?"

  "The inference is a fair one," Frobisher said, guardedly.

  Counsel smiled as he stroked his moustache. He was getting to the pointnow.

  "
Did you or do you suspect Mr. Manfred was after a particular plant?" heasked.

  Frobisher started. He saw the trap instantly. The smiling little manwith the bland questions knew a great deal more than he had told as yet.He was not so much asking questions as inviting the witness to makeadmissions. He had been primed doubtless by Mrs. Benstein and Denvers.The lump in the back of Frobisher's throat grew large, the easy smileflickered and died on his face.

  "I have a score that are almost unique," he said. "Under thecircumstances----"

  Counsel waved the point aside. His experience told him that he wasalarming his witness. He started on another tack which was destined tobe even more disturbing to Frobisher's peace of mind.

  "Let me put it another way," he said in his silkiest manner. "We arepretty certain that a valuable orchid was stolen from Streatham. Youtell me that commercial morality among collectors is not high, and thata plant like that would be a marketable commodity. Would you buy it,for example?"

  "I would go a long way in that direction," Frobisher said with a touchof his old cynicism.

  "You would! Now I am going to ask you a direct question. I need nottell you the hour at which the unknown was murdered at Streatham becauseyou know that as well as I do. Now since that time have you added toyour collection an orchid of extraordinary interest?"

  Frobisher gasped. He had not expected the question. He was like a manwho suddenly sees before him a deep and yawning precipice in the path offlowers. And the chasm was so deep and yawning that he could not see tothe bottom of it. He hesitated and stammered.

  "I certainly bought a valuable orchid the same night," he admitted.

  "Ah! Now we are getting on, indeed. The orchid you bought was unique!"

  "Well, that is a fair description of it. Nothing like it has been seenbefore."

  "An orchid the like of which has never been seen before! Come, this isvery interesting. Can you tell us if the plant in question has anyparticular name?"

  "It is called 'The Cardinal Moth,'" Frobisher admitted slowly. Thewords seemed to be dragged from him; he half wondered what had become ofhis voice. "It came originally from Koordstan."

  "Stolen," the Counsel cried. "The orchid, sir, is unique. It was usedto guard the Temple of Ghan. It is supposed to possess certain sinisterqualities. Criminals who were sent into the place where the Moth hungnever came out alive, they always died, as the two unhappy men whosecases we have under consideration perished. The sentence was to pluck aflower from the Cardinal Moth. The flowers were plucked, and when thegreat gates were thrown back the criminal was dead, strangled. SirClement, I presume that you knew all about this before you purchased theCardinal Moth the other night."

  "Every collector of intelligence knows the story," Frobisher admitted.

  "So when the treasure came in your way you could not resist thetemptation of purchase. Now, pray be careful. Did you not buy theCardinal Moth about an hour or two, say, after the unknown was foundmurdered in that conservatory at Streatham?"

  Frobisher wiped his shining head; his hand was shaking slightly.

  "If you put it that way, I did," he said. "It was brought to me andoffered for sale that night and I bought it."

  "What did you give for it?"

  Frobisher gaped open-mouthed at the question. It came back to him withsudden force that he had not given anything for the Moth at all, he hadonly promised for Lopez's sake to tell a lie and stick to it. Counselrapped sharply on the table before him.

  "I asked you what you gave for the Cardinal Moth?" he exclaimed.

  "A trifle," Frobisher admitted. "Well, nothing in money at all. Yousee, the man who sold it to me----"

  "Can you see the man in court? Look round and let us know if he ishere."

  Frobisher slowly looked round the court, not so much to find Lopez as toregain his own scattered wits.