“Yes, and I could win thirty thousand either way if I could negotiate the transaction, but that would not effect my purpose. You have heard, I know, from Dufrayer, all about my engagement and the strange conditions of old Carr’s will. There is no doubt that I possess a concealed enemy, whose object is to ruin me; but if Ajax wins I could obtain sufficient credit to right myself, and also to fulfil the conditions of Carr’s will. Yes, I will stand to it now, every penny. The horse can win, and by God he shall!”
As he spoke Calthorpe brought down his fist with a blow on the table that set the glasses dancing. A glance was sufficient to show that his nerves were strung up to the highest pitch, and that a little more excitement would make him scarcely answerable for his actions.
“I have already given you my advice on this matter,” said Dufrayer, in a grave tone. He turned and faced the young man as he spoke. “I would say emphatically, choose the thirty thousand now, and get out of it. You have plunged far too heavily in this matter. As to your present run of ill-luck, it will turn, depend upon it, and is only a question of time. If you hedge now you will have to put off your marriage, that is all. In the long run you will be able to fulfil the strange conditions which Carr has enjoined on his daughter’s future husband, and if I know Alison aright, she will be willing to wait for you. If, on the other hand, you lose, all is lost. It is the ancient adage, ‘A bird in the hand.’ ”
“It would be a dead crow,” he interrupted excitedly, “and I want a golden eagle.” Two hectic spots burned his pale cheeks, and the glitter in his eye showed how keen was the excitement which consumed him.
“I saw my uncle this morning,” he went on. “Of course, Sir John knows my position well, and there is no expense spared to guard and watch the horse. He is never left day or night by old and trusted grooms in the training stables. Whoever my enemy may be, I defy him to tamper with the horse. By the way, you must come down to see the race, Dufrayer; I insist upon it, and you too, Mr. Head. Yes, I should like you both to be there in the hour of my great success. I saw Rushton, the trainer, today, and he says the race is all over, bar shouting.”
This was Monday night, and the following Wednesday was Derby Day. On the next evening, impelled by an uncontrollable desire to see Calthorpe, I called a hansom and gave the driver the name of his club. I felt certain that I should find him there. When I arrived the porter told me that he was in the house, and sending up my card, I went across to the tape machine, which was ticking away under its glass case in the hall. Two or three men were standing beside it, chatting. The Derby prices had just come through, and a page-boy was tearing the tape into lengths and pinning them on a green baize board in the hall. I glanced hurriedly through them. Evens Ajax, four to one Bright Star, eleven to two Midge, eight to one Day Dawn. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and Calthorpe stood beside me. I was startled at his appearance. There was a haggard, wild look in his eyes.
“It seems to be all right,” I said cheerfully. “I see Ajax has gone off a point since this morning, but I suppose that means nothing?”
“Oh, nothing,” he replied; “there has been a pot of money going on Bright Star all day, but the favourite can hold the field from start to finish. I saw him this morning, and he is as fit as possible. Rushton, the trainer, says he absolutely can’t lose.”
A small, dark man in evening dress approached us and overheard Calthorpe’s last remark.
“I’ll have a level monkey about that, if you like, Mr. Calthorpe,” he said, in a low, nasal voice.
“It’s a wager,” retorted Calthorpe, drawing out his pocket-book with silver-bound edges, and entering the bet. “I’ll make it a thousand, if you like?” he added, looking up.
“With pleasure,” cried the little man. “Does your friend fancy anything?”
“No, thank you,” I replied.
The man turned away, and went back to his companions.
“Who is that fellow?” I asked of Calthorpe.
“Oh, a very decent little chap. He’s on the Stock Exchange, and makes a pretty big book on his own account.”
“So I should think,” I replied. “Why do you suppose he wants to lay against Ajax?”
“Hedging, I should imagine,” answered Calthorpe carelessly. “One thousand one way or the other cannot make any difference now.”
He had scarcely said the words before Dufrayer entered the hall.
“I have been looking for you, Head,” he said, just nodding to Calthorpe as he spoke, and coming up to my side. “I went to your house and heard you were here, and hoped I should run you to earth. I want to speak to you. Can you come with me?”
“Anything wrong?” asked Calthorpe uneasily.
“I hope not,” replied Dufrayer, “but I want to have a word with Head. I will see you presently, Calthorpe.”
He linked his hand through my arm, and we left the club.
“What is it?” I asked, the moment we got into the street.
“I want you to come to my flat. Miss Carr is there, and she wishes to see you.”
“Miss Carr at your flat, and she wishes to see me?”
“She does. You will soon know all about it, Head. Here, let us get into this hansom.”
He hailed one which was passing; we got into it and drove quickly to Shaftesbury Avenue. Dufrayer let himself in to his rooms with a latchkey, and the next moment I found myself in Alison’s presence. She started up when she saw the lawyer and myself.
“Now, Miss Carr,” said Dufrayer, shutting the door hastily, “we have not a moment to lose, Will you kindly repeat the story to Head which you have just told me?”
“But is there anything to be really frightened about?” she asked.
“I do not know of any one who can judge of that better than Mr. Head. Tell him everything, please, and at once.”
Thus adjured, the girl began to speak.
“I went as usual to Mme. Koluchy this afternoon,” she began; “her treatment does me a great deal of good. She was even kinder than usual. I believe her to be possessed of a sort of second sight. When she assured me that Ajax would win the Derby, I felt so happy that I laughed in my glee. She knows, no one better, how much this means to me. I was just about to leave her when the door of the consulting-room was opened, and who should appear standing on the threshold but my uncle, the Rev. Felix Carr! There is no love lost between my uncle and myself, and I could not help uttering a cry, half of fear and half of astonishment. I could see that he was equally startled at seeing me.
“ ‘What in the name of fortune has brought you to Mme. Koluchy?’ he cried.
“Madame rose in her usual stately way and went forward to meet him.
“ ‘Your niece, Alison, is quite an old patient of mine,’ she said; ‘but did you not receive my telegram?’
“ ‘No; I left home before it arrived,’ he answered. ‘The pains grew worse, and I felt I must see you. I have taken a horrible cold on the journey.’ As he spoke he took his handkerchief out of his pocket, and sneezed several times. He continued to stand on the threshold of the room.
“ ‘Well, good-bye, Alison, keep up your courage,’ cried Mme. Koluchy. She kissed me on my forehead and I left. Uncle Felix did not take any further notice of me. The moment I went out the door of the consulting-room was closed, and the first thing I saw in the corridor was a torn piece of letter. It lay on the floor, and must have dropped out of Uncle Felix’s pocket. I recognized the handwriting to be that of Mme. Koluchy, I picked it up, and these words met my eyes: ‘Innocuous to man, but fatal to the horse.’ I could not read any further, as the letter was torn across and the other half not in my possession, but the words frightened me, although I did not understand them. I became possessed with a dreadful sense of depression. I hurried out of the house. I was so much at home with Mme. Koluchy now that I could go in and out as much as I pleased. I drove straight to see you, Mr. Dufraye
r. I hoped you would set my terrors at rest, for surely Ajax cannot be the horse alluded to. The words haunt me, but there is nothing in them, is there? Please tell me so, Mr. Head—please allay my fears.”
“May I see the torn piece of paper?” I asked gravely.
The girl took it out of her pocket and handed it to me.
“You don’t mind if I keep this?” I said.
“No, certainly; but is there any cause for alarm?”
“I hope none, but you did well to consult Dufrayer. Now, I have something to ask you.”
“What is that?”
“Do not repeat what you were good enough to tell Dufrayer and me to Calthorpe.”
“Why so?”
“Because it would give him needless anxiety. I am going to take the matter up, and I trust all will be well. Keep your own counsel; do not tell what you have just told us to another living soul; and now I must ask you to leave us.”
Her face grew whiter than ever; her anxious eyes travelled from my face to Dufrayer’s.
“I will see you to a hansom,” I said. I took her downstairs, put her into one, and returned to the lawyer’s presence.
“I am glad you sent for me, Dufrayer,” I answered. “Don’t you see how grave all this is? If Ajax wins the Derby, the Rev. Felix Carr—I know nothing about his character, remember—will lose the interest on one hundred thousand pounds and the further chance of the capital being secured to his son. You see that it would be very much to the interest of the Rev. Felix if Ajax loses the Derby. Then why does he consult Mme. Koluchy? The question of health is surely a mere blind. I confess I do not like the aspect of affairs at all. That woman has science at her fingers’ ends. I shall go down immediately to Epsom and insist on Sir John Winton allowing me to spend the night in the training stables.”
“I believe you are doing the right thing,” answered Dufrayer. “You, who know Mme. Koluchy well, are armed at a thousand points.”
“I shall start at once,” I said.
I bade Dufrayer good-bye, hailed a hansom, desired the man to drive me to Victoria Station, and took the next train to Epsom.
I arrived at Sir John Winton’s house about ten o’clock. He was astonished to see me, and when I begged his permission to share the company of the groom in the training stables that night, he seemed inclined to resent my intrusion. I did not wish to betray Alison, but I repeated my request with great firmness.
“I have a grave reason for making it,” I said, “but one which at the present moment it is best for me not to disclose. Much depends on this race. From the events which have recently transpired, there is little doubt that Calthorpe has a secret enemy. Forewarned is forearmed. Will you share my watch tonight in the training stables, Sir John?”
“Certainly,” he answered. “I do not see that you have any cause for alarm, but under the circumstances, and in the face of the mad way that nephew of mine has plunged, I cannot but accede to your request. We will go together.”
We started to walk across the Downs. As we did so, Sir John became somewhat garrulous.
“I thought Alison would have come by your train,” he said, “but have just had a telegram asking me not to expect her. She is probably spending tonight with Mme. Koluchy. By the way, Head, what a charming woman that is.”
“Do you know her?” I asked.
“She was down here on Sunday. Alison begged me to invite her. We all enjoyed her company immensely. She has a wonderful knowledge of horses; in fact, she seems to know all about everything.”
“Has she seen Ajax?” I asked. My heart sank, I could not tell why.
“Yes, I took her to the stables. She was interested in all the horses, and above all in Ajax. She is certain he will win the Derby.”
I said nothing further. We arrived at the stables. Sir John and I spent a wakeful night. Early in the morning I asked to be allowed to examine the colt. He appeared in excellent condition, and the groom stood by him, admiring him, praising his points, and speaking about the certain result of the day’s race.
“Here’s the Derby winner,” he said, clapping Ajax on his glossy side. “He’ll win the race by a good three lengths. By the way, I hope he won’t be off his feed this morning.”
“Off his feed,” exclaimed Sir John. “What do you mean?”
“What I say, sir. We couldn’t get the colt to touch his food last night, although we tempted him with all kinds of things. There ain’t nothing in it, I know, and he seems all right now, don’t he?”
“Try him with a carrot,” said Sir John.
The man brought a carrot and offered it to the creature. He turned away from it, and fixed his large, bright eyes on Sir John’s face. I fancied there was suffering in them. Sir John seemed to share my fears. He went up to the horse and examined it critically, feeling its nose and ears.
“Tell Saunders to step across,” he said, turning to the groom. He mentioned a veterinary surgeon who lived close by. “And look you here, Dan, keep your own counsel. If so much as a word of this gets out, you may do untold mischief.”
“No fear of me, sir,” said the man. He rushed off to fetch Saunders, who soon appeared.
The veterinary surgeon was a thickly built man, with an intelligent face. He examined the horse carefully, taking his temperature, feeling him all over, and finally stepping back with a satisfied smile.
“There’s nothing to be alarmed about, Sir John,” he said. “The colt is in perfect health. Let him have a mash presently with some crushed corn in it. I’ll look in in a couple of hours, but there’s nothing wrong. He is as fit as possible.”
As the man left the stables, Sir John uttered a profound yawn.
“I confess I had a moment’s fright,” he said; “but I believe it was more from your manner than anything else, Mr. Head. Well, I am sleepy. Won’t you come back to the house and let me offer you a shake-down?”
“No,” I replied, “I want to return to town. I can catch an early train if I start at once.”
He shook hands with me, and I went to the railway station. The oppression and apprehension at my heart got worse moment by moment. For what object had Mme. Koluchy visited the stables? What was the meaning of that mysterious writing which I had in my pocket—“Innocuous to man, but fatal to the horse”? What did the woman, with her devilish ingenuity, mean to do? Something bad, I had not the slightest doubt.
I called at Dufrayer’s flat and gave him an account of the night’s proceedings.
“I don’t like the aspect of affairs, but God grant my fears are groundless,” I cried. “The horse is off his feed, but Sir John and the vet are both assured there is nothing whatever the matter with him. Mme. Koluchy was in the stables on Sunday; but, after all, what could she do? We must keep the thing dark from Calthorpe and trust for the best.”
At a quarter to twelve that day I found myself at Victoria. When I arrived on the platform I saw Calthorpe and Miss Carr coming to meet me. Dufrayer also a moment afterwards made his appearance. Miss Carr’s eyes were full of question, and I avoided her as much as possible. Calthorpe, on the contrary, seemed to have recovered a good bit of nerve, and to be in a sanguine mood. We took our seats, and the train started for Epsom. As we alighted at the Downs station, a man in livery hurried up to Calthorpe.
“Sir John Winton is in the paddock, sir,” he said, touching his hat. “He sent me to you, and says he wishes to see you at once, sir, and also Mr. Head.”
The man spoke breathlessly, and seemed very much excited.
“Very well; tell him we’ll both come,” replied Calthorpe. He turned to Dufrayer. “Will you take charge of Alison?” he said.
Calthorpe and I moved off at once.
“What can be the matter?” cried the young man. “Nothing wrong, I hope. What is that?” he cried the next instant.
The enormous crowd was increasing moment by moment, and
the din that rose from Tattersall’s ring seemed to me unusually loud so early in the day’s proceedings. As Calthorpe uttered the last words he started and his face turned white.
“Good God! Did you hear that?” he cried, dashing forward. I followed him quickly; the ring was buzzing like an infuriated beehive, and the men in it were hurrying to and fro as if possessed by the very madness of excitement. It was an absolute pandemonium. The stentorian tones of a brass-voiced bookmaker close beside us fell on my ears:
“Here, I’ll bet five to one Ajax—five to one Ajax!”
The voice was suddenly drowned in the deafening clamour of the crowd, the air seemed to swell with the uproar. Were my worst fears confirmed? I felt stunned and sick. I turned round; Calthorpe had vanished.
Several smart drags were drawn up beside the railings. I glanced up at the occupants of the one beside me. From the box-seat looking down at me with the amused smile of a spectator sat Mme. Koluchy. As I caught her eyes I thought I detected a flash of triumph, but the next moment she smiled and bowed gracefully.
“You are a true Englishman, Mr. Head,” she said. “Even your infatuated devotion to your scientific pursuits cannot restrain you from attending your characteristic national fête. Can you tell me what has happened? Those men seem to have suddenly gone mad—is that a part of the programme?”
“ ‘Innocuous to man, but fatal to the horse,’ ” was my strange reply. I looked her full in the face. The long lashes covered her brilliant eyes for one flashing moment, then she smiled at me more serenely than ever.
“I will guess your enigma when the Derby is won,” she said.
I raised my hat and hurried away. I had seen enough: suspicion was changed into certainty. The next moment I reached the paddock. I saw Calthorpe engaged in earnest conversation with his uncle.
“It’s all up, Head,” he said, when he saw me.
The Big Book of Female Detectives Page 188