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The Orange-Yellow Diamond

Page 32

by J. S. Fletcher


  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  ONE O'CLOCK MIDNIGHT

  Five minutes after Ayscough had gone away with Dr. Mirandolet the hotelservant who had summoned him from Purdie's sitting-room knocked at thedoor for the second time and put a somewhat mystified face inside.

  "Beg pardon, sir," he said, glancing at Purdie, who was questioningMelky Rubinstein as to the events of the evening in their relation tothe house in Maida Vale. "Two ladies outside, sir--waiting to see you.But they don't want to come in, sir, unless they know who's here--don'twant to meet no strangers, sir."

  Purdie jumped to his feet, and putting the man aside looked into thedimly-lighted corridor. There, a few paces away, stood Zillah--and,half hidden by her, Mrs. Goldmark.

  "Come in--come in!" he exclaimed. "Nobody here but Andie Lauriston andMelky Rubinstein. You've something to tell--something's happened?"

  He ushered them into the room, sent the hotel servant, obviously in astate of high curiosity about these happenings, away, and closed thedoor.

  "S'elp me!" exclaimed Melky, "there ain't no other surprises, Zillah?You ain't come round at this time o' night for nothing! What you got totell, Zillah?--another development?"

  "Mrs. Goldmark has something to tell," answered Zillah. "We didn't knowwhat to do, and you didn't come, Melky--nobody come--and so we lockedthe house and thought of Mr. Purdie. Mrs. Goldmark has seen somebody!"

  "Who?" demanded Melky. "Somebody, now? What somebody?"

  "The man that came to her restaurant," replied Zillah. "The man wholost the platinum solitaire!"

  Mrs. Goldmark who had dropped into the chair which Purdie had drawn tothe side of the table for her, wagged her head thoughtfully.

  "This way it was, then," she said, with a dramatic suggestion ofpersonal enjoyment in revealing a new feature of the mystery, "I have afriend who lives in Stanhope Street--Mrs. Isenberg. She sends to me athalf-past-ten to tell me she is sick. I go to see her--immediate. Ifind her very poorly--so! I stop with her till past eleven, doing whatI can. Then her sister, she comes--I can do no more--I come away. And Iwalk through Sussex Square, as my road back to Praed Street and Zillah.But before I am much across Sussex Square, I stop--sudden, like that!For what? Because--I see a man! That man! Him what drops his cuff-linkon my table. Oh, yes!"

  "You're sure it was that man, Mrs. Goldmark?" enquired Melky,anxiously. "You don't make no mistakes, so?"

  "Do I mistake myself if I say I see you, Mr. Rubinstein?" exclaimedMrs. Goldmark, solemnly and with emphasis. "No, I don't make nomistakes at all. Is there not gas lamps?--am I not blessed with goodeyes? I see him--like as I see you there young gentleman and Zillah.Plain!"

  "Well--and what was he doing?" asked Purdie, desirous of getting atfacts. "Did he come out of a house, or go into one, or--what?"

  "I tell you," replied Mrs. Goldmark, "everything I tell you--all ingood time. It is like this. A taxicab comes up--approaching me. Itstops--by the pavement. Two men--they get out. Him first. Then another.They pay the driver--then they walk on a little--just a few steps. Theygo into a house. The other man--he lets them into that house. With alatch-key. The door opens--shuts. They are inside. Then I go to Zillahand tell her what I see. So!"

  The three young men exchanged glances, and Purdie turned to theinformant.

  "Mrs. Goldmark," he said, "did you know the man who opened the door?"

  "Not from another!" replied Mrs. Goldmark. "A stranger to me!"

  "Do you know Mr. Levendale--by sight?" asked Purdie.

  "Often, since all this begins, I ask myself that question," said Mrs.Goldmark, "him being, so to speak, a neighbour. No, that I do not, notbeing able to say he was ever pointed out to me."

  "Well, you can describe the man who pulled out his latch-key and openedthe door, anyhow," remarked Purdie. "You took a good look at him, Isuppose!"

  "And a good one," answered Mrs. Goldmark. "He was one of our people--Isaw his nose and his eyes. And I was astonished to see so poor-lookinga man have a latch-key to so grand a mansion as that!--he was dressedin poor clothes, and looked dirty and mean."

  "A bearded dark man?" suggested Purdie.

  "Not at all," said Mrs. Goldmark. "A clean-shaved man--though dark hemight be."

  Purdie looked at Melky and shook his head.

  "That's not Levendale!" he said, "Clean-shaven! Levendale's bearded andmustached--and I should say a bit vain of his beard. Um! you're deadcertain, Mrs. Goldmark, about the other man?"

  "As that I tell you this," insisted Mrs. Goldmark. "I see him as plainas what I see him when he calls at my establishment and leaves hisjewellery on my table. Oh, yes--I don't make no mistake, Mr. Purdie."

  Purdie looked again at Melky--this time with an enquiry in his glance.

  "Don't ask me, Mr. Purdie!" said Melky. "I don't know what to say.Sounds like as if these two went into Levendale's house. But what manwould have a latch-key to that but Levendale himself? Moremystery!--ain't I full of it already? Now if Mr. Ayscough hadn't goneaway--"

  "Look here!" said Purdie, coming to a sudden decision, "I'm going roundthere. I want to know what this means--I'm going to know. You ladieshad better go home. If you others like to come as far as the corner ofSussex Square, come. But I'm going to Levendale's house alone. I'llfind something out."

  He said no more until, Zillah and Mrs. Goldmark having gone homeward,and he and his two companions having reached a side street leading intoSussex Square, he suddenly paused and demanded their attention!

  "I've particular reasons for wanting to go into that house alone," hesaid. "There's no danger--trust me. But--if I'm not out again in aquarter of an hour or so, you can come there and ask for me. My ownimpression is that I shall find Levendale there. And--as you're aware,Andie--I know Levendale." He left them standing in the shadow of aprojecting portico and going up to Levendale's front door, rang thebell. There was no light in any of the windows; all appeared to be indead stillness in the house; somewhere, far off in the interior, heheard the bell tinkle. And suddenly, as he stood waiting and listening,he heard a voice that sounded close by him and became aware that therewas a small trap or grille in the door, behind which he made out a face.

  "Who is that?" whispered the voice.

  "John Purdie--wanting to see Mr. Levendale," he answered promptly.

  The door was just as promptly opened, and as Purdie stepped within wasas quickly closed behind him. At the same instant the click of a switchheralded a flood of electric light, and he started to see a manstanding at his side--a man who gave him a queer, deprecating smile, aman who was not and yet who was Levendale.

  "Gracious me!" exclaimed Purdie, "it isn't--"

  "Yes!" said Levendale, quietly. "But it is, though! All right,Purdie--come this way."

  Purdie followed Levendale into a small room on the right of the hall--aroom in which the remains of a cold, evidently impromptu supper lay ona table lighted by a shaded lamp. Two men had been partaking of thatsupper, but Levendale was alone. He gave his visitor another queersmile, and pointed, first to a chair and then to a decanter.

  "Sit down--take a drink," he said. "This is a queer meeting! We haven'tseen each other since--"

  "Good God, man!" broke in Purdie, staring at his host. "What's it allmean? Are you--disguised?"

  Levendale laughed--ruefully--and glanced at the mean garments whichMrs. Goldmark had spoken of.

  "Necessity!" he said. "Had to! Ah!--I've been through some queertimes--and in queer places. Look here--what do you know?"

  "Know!" cried Purdie. "You want me to tell you all I know--in asentence? Man!--it would take a month! What do you know? That's morelike it!"

  Levendale passed a hand across his forehead--there was a weariness inhis gesture which showed his visitor that he was dead beat.

  "Aye, just so!" he said. "But--tell me! has John Purvis come lookingfor his brother?"

  "He has!" answered Purdie. "He's in London just now."

  "Has he told about that diamond?--told the police?" demanded Levendale.
/>   "He has!" repeated Purdie. "That's all known. Stephen Purvis--where ishe?"

  "Upstairs--asleep--dead tired out," said Levendale. "We both are! Nightand day--day and night--I could fall on this floor and sleep--"

  "You've been after that diamond?" suggested Purdie.

  "That--and something else," said Levendale.

  "Something else?" asked Purdie. "What then?"

  "Eighty thousand pounds," answered Levendale. "Just that!"

  Purdie stood staring at him. Then he suddenly put a question.

  "Do you know who murdered that old man in Praed Street?" he demanded."That's what I'm after."

  "No!" said Levendale, promptly. "I don't even know that he wasmurdered!" He, too, stared at his visitor for a moment; then "But Iknow more than a little about his being robbed," he added significantly.

  Purdie shook his head. He was puzzled and mystified beyond measure.

  "This is getting too deep for me!" he said. "You're the biggest mysteryof all, Levendale. Look here!" he went on. "What are you going to do?This queer disappearance of yours--this being away--coming back withoutyour beard and dressed like that!--aren't you going to explain? Thepolice--"

  "Yes!" said Levendale. "Ten o'clock this morning--the police-station.Be there--all of you--anybody--anybody who likes--I'm going to tell thepolice all I know. Purvis and I, we can't do any more--baffled, youunderstand! But now--go away, Purdie, and let me sleep--I'm dead donefor!"

  Within ten minutes of leaving them, Purdie was back with Lauriston andMelky Rubinstein, and motioning them away from Sussex Square.

  "That's more extraordinary than the rest!" he said, as they all movedoff. "Levendale's there, in his own house, right enough! And he'sshaved off his beard and mustache, and he's wearing tramp's clothes andhe and Stephen Purvis have been looking night and day, for thatconfounded diamond, and for eighty thousand pounds! And--what's more,Levendale does not know who killed Daniel Multenius or that he wasmurdered! But, by George, sirs!" he added, as high above their headsthe clock of St. James's Church struck one, "he knows somethingbig!--and we've got to wait nine hours to hear it!"

 

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