CHAPTER FIVE
THE TWO LETTERS
Once outside the shop, Lauriston turned sharply on the detective.
"Look here!" he said. "I wish you'd just tell me the truth. Am Isuspected? Am I--in some way or other--in custody?"
Ayscough laughed quietly, wagging his head.
"Certainly not in custody," he answered. "And as to the other--well,you know, Mr. Lauriston, supposing we put it in this way?--supposeyou'd been me, and I'd been you, half-an-hour ago? What would you havethought if you'd found me in the situation and under the circumstancesin which I found you? Come, now!"
"Yes," replied Lauriston, after a moment's reflection. "I suppose it'snatural that you should suspect me--finding me there, alone with theold man. But--"
"It's not so much suspicion in a case of this sort, as a wish tosatisfy one's self," interrupted the detective. "You seem agentleman-like young fellow, and you may be all right. I want to knowthat you are--I'd like to know that you are! It would be nosatisfaction to me to fasten this business on you, I can assure you.And if you like to tell me about yourself, and how you came to go toMultenius's--why, it would be as well."
"There's not much to tell," answered Lauriston. "I came from Scotlandto London, two years ago or thereabouts, to earn my living by writing.I'd a bit of money when I came--I've lived on it till now. I've justbegun to earn something. I've been expecting a cheque for some work forthese last ten or twelve days, but I was running short last week--so Iwent to that place to pawn my watch--I saw the young lady there. As mycheque hadn't arrived today, I went there again to pawn those rings Itold you about and showed you. And--that's all. Except this--I wasadvised to go to Multenius's by a relation of theirs, Mr. Rubinstein,who lodges where I do. He knows me."
"Oh, Melky Rubinstein!" said Ayscough. "I know Melky--sharp chap he is.He sold me this pin I'm wearing. Well, that seems quite astraightforward tale, Mr. Lauriston. I've no doubt all will besatisfactory. You've friends in London, of course?"
"No--none," replied Lauriston. "And scarcely an acquaintance. I've keptto myself--working hard: I've had no time--nor inclination, either--tomake friends. Here's the house where I lodge--it's not much of a place,but come in."
They had reached Mrs. Flitwick's house by that time, and Mrs. Flitwickherself was in the narrow, shabby passage as they entered. Sheimmediately produced two letters.
"Here's two letters for you, Mr. Lauriston," she said, with a sharpglance at Ayscough. "One of 'em's a registered--I did sign for it. So Ikept 'em myself, instead of sending 'em up to your room."
"Thank you, Mrs. Flitwick," said Lauriston. He took the letters, sawthat the writing on the registered envelope was his old friend JohnPurdie's, and that the other letter was from the magazine to which hehad sold his stories, and turned to Ayscough. "Come up to my room," hecontinued. "We'll talk up there."
Ayscough followed him up to his room--once inside, and the door shut,Lauriston tore open the letter from the magazine, and extracted aprinted form and a cheque for twenty guineas. He took one look at themand thrust them into the detective's hands.
"There!" he said, with a sigh of mingled relief and triumph. "There's aproof of the truth of one statement I made to you! That's the expectedcheque I told you of. Excuse me while I look at the other letter."
Out of the registered letter came a bank-note--for twenty pounds--and ahastily scribbled note which Lauriston eagerly read. "Dear old Andie,"it ran, "I've only just got your letter, for I've been from home for afortnight, and had no letters sent on to me. Of course you'll make meyour banker until your book's finished--and afterwards, too, if needbe. Here's something to be going on with--but I'm coming to London in aday or two, as it happens, and will go into the matter--I'll call onyou as soon as I arrive. Excuse this scrawl--post time. Always yours,John Purdie."
Lauriston thrust that letter, too, into Ayscough's hands.
"If I've no friends in London, there's proof of having one in my owncountry!" he exclaimed. "Ah!--if those letters had only come before Iwent off to Praed Street!"
"Just so!" agreed the detective, glancing the letters and theiraccompaniments over. "Well, I'm glad you're able to show me these, Mr.Lauriston, anyway. But now, about those rings--between you and me, Iwish they hadn't been so much like those that were lying in that trayon the old man's table. It's an unfortunate coincidence!--because somefolks might think, you know, that you'd just grabbed a couple of thoseas you left the place. Eh?"
"My rings have been in that trunk for two or three years," assertedLauriston. "They were my mother's, and I believe she'd had them formany a year before she died. They may resemble those that we saw inthat tray, but--"
"Well, I suppose you can bring somebody--if necessary, that is--toprove that they were your mother's, can't you?" asked Ayscough."That'll make matters all right--on that point. And as for therest--it's very lucky you know Melky Rubinstein, and that the girl knewyou as a customer. But, my faith!--I wish you'd caught a glimpse ofsomebody leaving that shop! For there's no doubt the old man met hisdeath by violence."
"I know nothing of it," said Lauriston, "I saw no one."
Just then Melky came in. He glanced at the cheque and the bank-noteslying on the table, and nodded to Lauriston as if he understood theirpresence. Then he turned to Ayscough, almost anxiously.
"I say, Mr. Ayscough!" he said, deprecatingly. "You ain't going to beso unkind as to mix up this here young fellow in what's happened. S'elpme, Mr. Ayscough, I couldn't believe anything o' that sort about him,nohow--nor would my cousin, Zillah, what you know well enough, neither;he's as quiet as a lamb, Mr. Ayscough, is Mr. Lauriston--ain't I knownhim, lodging here as he does, this many a month? I'll give my word forhim, anyway, Mr. Ayscough! And you police gentlemen know me. Don't younow, Mr. Ayscough?"
"Very well indeed, my boy!" agreed the detective, heartily. "And I'lltell you what--I shall have to trouble Mr. Lauriston to go round withme to the station, just to give a formal account of what happened, anda bit of explanation, you know--I'm satisfied myself about him, and so,no doubt, will our people be, but you come with us, Melky, and say aword or two--say you've known him for some time, d'ye see--it'll help."
"Anything to oblige a friend, Mr. Ayscough," said Melky. He motioned toLauriston to put his money in his pocket. "Glad to see your lettersturned up," he whispered as they went downstairs. "I say!--a word inyour ear--don't you tell these here police chaps any more than youneed--I'll stand up for you."
The detective's report, a little questioning of Lauriston, and Melky'sfervent protestations on Lauriston's behalf, served to satisfy theauthorities at the police-station, and Lauriston was allowed togo--admonished by the inspector that he'd be wanted at the inquest, asthe most important witness. He went out into the street with Melky.
"Come and have a bit o' supper at Mrs. Goldmark's," suggested Melky. "Ishall have my hands full tonight at the poor old man's, but I ain't hadnothing since dinner."
Lauriston, however, excused himself. He wanted to go home and writeletters--at once. But he promised to look round at the pawnshop laterin the evening, to see if he could be of any use, and to give Melky afull account of his finding of the old pawnbroker.
"Ah!" remarked Melky, as they pushed at the door of the eating-house."And ain't it going to be a nice job to find the man that scraggedhim?--I don't think! But I'm going to take a hand at that game,mister!--let alone the police."
Mrs. Goldmark was out. She had heard the news, said the waitress whowas left in charge, and had gone round to do what she could for MissZillah. So Melky, deprived of the immediate opportunity of talk withMrs. Goldmark, ordered his supper, and while he ate and drank,cogitated and reflected. And his thoughts ran chiefly on the platinumsolitaire stud which he had carefully bestowed in his vest pocket.
It was Melky's firm belief--already--that the stud had been dropped inDaniel Multenius's back parlour by some person who had no businessthere--in other words by the old man's assailant. And ever since he hadfound the stud, Melky had been w
ondering and speculating on his chancesof finding its owner. Of one thing he was already certain: that theowner, whoever he was, was no ordinary person. Ordinary, everydaypersons do not wear studs or tie-pins on chains made of platinum--themost valuable of all the metals. How came a solitaire stud, made of ametal far more valuable than gold, and designed and ornamented in apeculiar fashion, to be lying on the hearthrug of old DanielMultenius's room? It was not to be believed that the old man haddropped it there--no, affirmed Melky to himself, with conviction, thatbit of personal property had been dropped there, out of a looseshirt-cuff by some man who had called on Daniel not long before AndieLauriston had gone in, and who for some mysterious reason had scraggedthe old fellow. And now the question was--who was that man?
"Got to find that out, somehow!" mused Melky. "Else that poor chap'llbe in a nice fix--s'elp me, he will! And that 'ud never do!"
Melky, in spite of his keenness as a business man, and the fact thatfrom boyhood he had had to fight the world by himself, had a peculiarlysoft heart--he tended altogether to verge on the sentimental. He hadwatched Lauriston narrowly, and had developed a decided feeling forhim--moreover, he now knew that his cousin Zillah, hitherto adamant tomany admirers, had fallen in love with Lauriston: clearly, Lauristonmust be saved. Melky knew police ways and methods, and he felt surethat whatever Ayscough, a good-natured man, might think, the superiorauthorities would view Lauriston's presence in the pawnshop with strongsuspicion. Therefore--the real culprit must be found. And he, MelkyRubinstein--he must have a go at that game.
He finished his supper, thinking hard all the time he ate and drank;finally he approached the desk to pay his bill. The young woman whomMrs. Goldmark had left in charge lifted the lid of the desk to get somechange--and Melky's astonished eyes immediately fell on an object whichlay on top of a little pile of papers. That object was the duplicate ofthe platinum solitaire which Melky had in his pocket. Withoutceremony--being well known there--he at once picked it up.
"What's this bit of jewellery?" he demanded.
"That?" said the waitress, indifferently. "Oh, one of the girls pickedit up the other day off a table where a stranger had been sitting--wethink he'd dropped it. Mrs. Goldmark says it's valuable, so she put itaway, in case he comes again. But we haven't seen him since."
Melky took a good look at the second stud. Then he put it back in thedesk, picked up his change, and went away--in significant silence.
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