The Orange-Yellow Diamond

by J. S. Fletcher

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE PRIVATE LABORATORY

  As he turned down Spring Street towards Sussex Square, Purdie hastilyreviewed his knowledge of Mr. Spencer Levendale and his family. He hadmet them, only two months previously, at a remote and out-of-the-wayplace in the Highlands, in a hotel where he and they were almost theonly guests. Under such circumstances, strangers are soon drawntogether, and as Levendale and Purdie had a common interest in fishingthey were quickly on good terms. But Purdie was thinking now as he madehis way towards Levendale's London house that he really knew verylittle of this man who was evidently mixed up in some way with themystery into which young Andie Lauriston had so unfortunately alsobecome intermingled. He knew that Levendale was undoubtedly a verywealthy man: there were all the signs of wealth about him; he hadbrought several servants down to the Highlands with him: money appearedto be plentiful with him as pebbles are on a beach. Purdie learnt bitby bit that Levendale had made a great fortune in South Africa, that hehad come home to England and gone into Parliament; that he was awidower and the father of two little girls--he learnt, too, that thechildren's governess, Miss Elsie Bennett, a pretty and taking girl oftwenty-two or three, had come with them from Cape Town. But ofLevendale's real character and self he knew no more than could begained from holiday acquaintance. Certain circumstances told him byMelky about the rare book left in old Multenius's parlour inclinedPurdie to be somewhat suspicious that Levendale was concealingsomething which he knew about that affair--and now here was MissBennett writing what, on the face of it, looked like an appealingletter to him, as if something had happened.

  Purdie knew something had happened as soon as he was admitted to thehouse. Levendale's butler, who had accompanied his master to theHighlands, and had recognized Purdie on his calling the previous day,came hurrying to him in the hall, as soon as the footman opened thedoor.

  "You haven't seen Mr. Levendale since you were here yesterday, sir?" heasked, in a low, anxious voice.

  "Seen Mr. Levendale? No!" answered Purdie. "Why--what do you mean?"

  The butler looked round at a couple of footmen who hung about the door.

  "Don't want to make any fuss about it, Mr. Purdie," he whispered,"though it's pretty well known in the house already. The fact is, sir,Mr. Levendale's missing!"

  "Missing?" exclaimed Purdie. "Since when?"

  "Only since last night, sir," replied the butler, "but thecircumstances are queer. He dined out with some City gentlemen,somewhere, last night, and he came home about ten o'clock. He wasn't inthe house long. He went into his laboratory--he spends a lot of time inexperimenting in chemistry, you know, sir--and he called me in there.'I'm going out again for an hour, Grayson,' he says. 'I shall be in ateleven: don't go to bed, for I want to see you for a minute or two.' Ofcourse, there was nothing in that, Mr. Purdie, and I waited for him.But he never came home--and no message came. He never came home atall--and this morning I've telephoned to his two clubs, and to one ortwo other places in the City--nobody's seen or heard anything of him.And I can't think what's happened--it's all so unlike his habits."

  "He didn't tell you where he was going?" asked Purdie.

  "No, sir, but he went on foot," answered the butler. "I let him out--heturned up Paddington way."

  "You didn't notice anything out of the common about him?" suggestedPurdie.

  The butler hesitated for a moment.

  "Well, sir," he said at last, "I did notice something. Come this way,Mr. Purdie."

  Turning away from the hall, he led Purdie through the library in whichLevendale had received Ayscough and his companions into a small roomthat opened out of it.

  Purdie, looking round him, found that he was standing in a laboratory,furnished with chemical apparatus of the latest descriptions.Implements and appliances were on all sides; there were rows of bottleson the shelves; a library of technical books filled a large book-case;everything in the place betokened the pursuit of a scientificinvestigator. And Purdie's keen sense of smell immediately noted theprevalent atmosphere of drugs and chemicals.

  "It was here that I saw Mr. Levendale last night, sir," said thebutler. "He called me in. He was measuring something from one of thosebottles into a small phial, Mr. Purdie--he put the phial in hiswaistcoat pocket. Look at those bottles, sir--you'll see they allcontain poison!--you can tell that by the make of 'em."

  Purdie glanced at the shelf which the butler indicated. The bottlesranged on it were all of blue glass, and all triangular in shape, andeach bore a red label with the word _Poison_ prominently displayed.

  "Odd!" he said. "You've some idea?" he went on, looking closely at thebutler. "Something on your mind about this? What is it?"

  The butler shook his head.

  "Well, sir," he answered, "when you see a gentleman measuring poisoninto a phial, which he carefully puts in his pocket, and when he goesout, and when he never comes back, and when you can't hear of him,anywhere! why, what are you to think? Looks strange, now, doesn't it,Mr. Purdie?"

  "I don't know Mr. Levendale well enough to say," replied Purdie. "Theremay be some quite good reason for Mr. Levendale's absence. He'd notrouble of any sort, had he?"

  "He seemed a bit upset, once or twice, yesterday--and the nightbefore," said the butler. "I noticed it--in little things. Well!--Ican't make it out, sir. You see, I've been with him ever since he cameback to England--some years now--and I know his habits, thoroughly.However, we can only wait--I believe Miss Bennett sent for you, Mr.Purdie?"

  "Yes," said Purdie. "She did."

  "This way, sir," said the butler. "Miss Bennett's alone, now--thechildren have just gone out with their nurses."

  He led Purdie through the house to a sitting-room looking out on thegarden of the Square, and ushered him into the governess's presence.

  "I've told Mr. Purdie all about it, miss," he said, confidentially."Perhaps you'll talk it over with him! I can't think of anything moreto do--until we hear something."

  Left alone, Purdie and Elsie Bennett looked at each other as they shookhands. She was a fair, slender girl, naturally shy and retiring; shewas manifestly shy at renewing her acquaintance with Purdie, and Purdiehimself, conscious of his own feelings towards her, felt a certainembarrassment and awkwardness.

  "You sent for me," he said brusquely. "I came the instant I got yournote. Grayson kept me talking downstairs. You're bothered--about Mr.Levendale?"

  "Yes," she answered. Then she pointed to a chair. "Won't you sit down?"she said, and took a chair close by. "I sent for you, because--it mayseem strange, but it's a fact!--I couldn't think of anybody else! Itseemed so fortunate that you were in London--and close by. I feltthat--that I could depend on you."

  "Thank you," said Purdie. "Well--you can! And what is it?"

  "Grayson's told you about Mr. Levendale's going out last night, andnever coming back, nor sending any message?" she continued. "As Graysonsays, considering Mr. Levendale's habits, that is certainly verystrange! But--I want to tell you something beyond that--I must tellsomebody! And I know that if I tell you you'll keep it secret--until,or unless you think you ought to tell it to--the police!"

  Purdie started.

  "The police!" he exclaimed. "What is it?"

  Elsie Bennett turned to a table, and picked up a couple of newspapers.

  "Have you read this Praed Street mystery affair?" she asked. "I meanthe account of the inquest?"

  "Every word--and heard more, besides," answered Purdie. "That youngfellow, Andie Lauriston, is an old schoolmate and friend of mine. Icame here yesterday to see him, and found him plunged into thisbusiness. Of course, he's absolutely innocent."

  "Has he been arrested?" asked Elsie, almost eagerly.

  "No!" replied Purdie. "He's gone away--to get evidence that those ringswhich are such a feature of the case are really his and were hismother's."

  "Have you noticed these particulars, at the end of the inquest, aboutthe book which was found in the pawnbroker's parlour?" she went on."The Spanish manuscript?"

/>   "Said to have been lost by Mr. Levendale in an omnibus," answeredPurdie. "Yes! What of it?"

  The girl bent nearer to him.

  "It seems a dreadful thing to say," she whispered, "but I must tellsomebody--I can't, I daren't keep it to myself any longer! Mr.Levendale isn't telling the truth about that book!"

  Purdie involuntarily glanced at the door--and drew his chair nearer toElsie's.

  "You're sure of that?" he whispered. "Just so! Now--in what way?"

  "It says here," answered Elsie, tapping the newspapers with her finger,"that Mr. Levendale lost this book in a 'bus, which he left at thecorner of Chapel Street, and that he was so concerned about the lossthat he immediately sent advertisements off to every morning newspaperin London. The last part of that is true--the first part is not true!Mr. Levendale did not lose his book--he did not leave it in the 'bus!I'm sorry to have to say it--but all that is invention on hispart--why, I don't know."

  Purdie had listened to this with a growing feeling of uneasiness andsuspicion. The clouds centring round Levendale were certainlythickening.

  "Now, just tell me--how do you know all this?" he asked. "Rely onme--to the full!"

  "I'll tell you," replied Elsie, readily. "Because, about four o'clockon the afternoon of the old man's death, I happened to be at the cornerof Chapel Street. I saw Mr. Levendale get out of the 'bus. He did notsee me. He crossed Edgware Road and walked rapidly down Praed Street.And--he was carrying that book in his hand!"

  "You're sure it was that book?" asked Purdie.

  "According to the description given in this account and in theadvertisement--yes," she answered. "I noticed the fine binding.Although Mr. Levendale didn't see me--there were a lot of peopleabout--I was close to him. I am sure it was the book described here."

  "And--he went in the direction of the pawnshop?" said Purdie. "What onearth does it all mean? What did he mean by advertising for the book,when--"

  Before he could say more, a knock came at the door, and the butlerentered, bearing an open telegram in his hand. His face wore anexpression of relief.

  "Here's a wire from Mr. Levendale, Miss Bennett," he said. "It'saddressed to me. He says, 'Shall be away from home, on business, for afew days. Let all go on as usual.' That's better, miss! But," continuedGrayson, glancing at Purdie, "it's still odd--for do you see, sir,where that wire has been sent from? Spring Street--close by!"