The Rayner-Slade Amalgamation

CHAPTER XXVI

PARTICIPANTS IN THE SECRET

Allerdyke was scarcely prepared for the feverish energy with which Fullaway dragged him out of the hotel, forced him into the first taxi-cab they met, and bade the driver make haste to the Waldorf. He knew by that time that the American was a nervous, excitable individual who now and then took on tremendous fits of work in which he hustled and bustled everybody around him, but he had never seen him quite so excited and eager as now. The discovery at that shabby hotel which they had just quitted seemed to have acted on him like the smell of powder on an old war-horse; he appeared to be positively panting for action.

"Allerdyke!" he almost shouted as the cab moved away, and he himself smote one clenched fist upon the other. "Allerdyke—this thing has got to go through! I resign all claim to that reward. Allerdyke!—this affair is too serious for any hole-and-corner work. I shall tell Van Koon that what we know, or fancy, must be thrown into the common stock of knowledge! The thing is to get at the people who've been behind this poor chap Ebers, or Federman, or Herman, or whatever his name is. Allerdyke!—we must go right into things."

Allerdyke laughed sardonically. When Fullaway developed excitement, he developed coolness, and his voice became as dry and hard as the other's was fervid and eloquent.

"Aye!" he said in his most phlegmatic tones. "Aye, just so! And where d'ye intend to cut in, now, like? Is it a sort of Gordian knot affair that you're thinking of? Going to solve this difficulty at one blow?"

"Don't be sarcastic," retorted Fullaway. "I'm going to take things clean up from this Federman or Ebers affair. I'm going deep—deep! You'll see in a few minutes."

"Willing to see—and to hear—aught," remarked Allerdyke laconically.

"I've been doing naught else since I got that wireless telegram."

Then they relapsed into silence until the Waldorf was reached. There Fullaway raced his companion upstairs to his rooms and burst in upon Mrs. Marlow like a whirlwind. The pretty secretary, busied with her typewriter, looked up, glanced at both men, and calmly resumed her labours.

"Mrs. Marlow!" exclaimed Fullaway. "Just step to Mr. Van Koon's rooms and beg him to come back here to my sitting-room with you—important business, Mrs. Marlow—I want you, too."

Allerdyke, closely watching the woman around whom so much mystery centred, saw that she did not move so much as an eyelash. She laid her work aside, left the room, and within a minute returned with Van Koon, who gazed at Fullaway with an air of half-amused inquiry.

"Something happened?" he asked, nodding to Allerdyke. "Town on fire?"

"Van Koon, sit down," commanded Fullaway, pushing his compatriot into the inner room. "Mrs. Marlow, fasten that outer door and come in here. We're going to have a stiff conference. Sit down, please, all of you. Now," he went on, when the other three had ranged themselves about the centre table, "There is news, Van Koon. Allerdyke and I have just come away from an hotel in the Docks where we've seen the dead body of a young man who's been found dead there under precisely similar circumstances to those which attended the death of the French maid in Eastbourne Terrace. We've also heard a description of a man who was at this hotel in the Docks last night—it corresponds to that of the fellow who accompanied Lisette Beaurepaire. I, personally, have no doubt that this man, whoever he is, is the murderer of Lisette and of this youngster whose body we've just seen. Mrs. Marlow, this dead young fellow, from whose death-chamber we've just come, is that valet I used to have here—Ebers. You remember him?"

"Sure!" answered Mrs. Marlow, quite calmly and unconcernedly. "Very well indeed."

"This Ebers," continued Fullaway, turning to Van Koon, "was a young fellow, Swiss, German, something of that sort, who acted as valet to me and to some other men here in this hotel for a time. I needn't go into too many details now, but there's no doubt that he knew, and was in touch with, Lisette Beaurepaire, and Miss Lennard positively identifies him as the man who met her and Lisette at Hull, and represented himself as Lisette's brother. Now then, Ebers—we'll stick to that name for the sake of clearness—was in and out of my rooms a good deal, of course. And what I want to know now, Mrs. Marlow, is—do you think he got access to our letters, papers, books? Could he find out, for instance, that I was engaged in this deal between the Princess Nastirsevitch and Mr. Delkin, and that Miss Lennard had bought the Pinkie Pell pearls? Think!"

Mrs. Marlow had evidently done her thinking; she replied without hesitation.

"If he did, or could, it would be through your own carelessness, Mr. Fullaway," she said. "You know that I am ridiculously careful about that sort of thing! From the time I come here in the morning—ten-o'clock—until I leave at five, no one has any chance of seeing our papers, or our letter book, or our telegram-copies book. They are always on my desk while I am in the office, and when I go downstairs to lunch I lock them up in the safe. But—you're not careful! How many times have I come in the morning, and found that you've taken these things out of the safe over-night and left them lying about for anybody to see? Dozens of times!"

"I know—I know!" admitted Fullaway with a groan. "I'm frightfully careless—always was. I quite admit it, Mrs. Marlow, quite!"

"Of course," continued Mrs. Marlow, in precise, even tones, "of course if you left the letter-book lying round, and the book in which the duplicates of all our telegrams and cablegrams are kept, too—why, this Ebers man could easily read what he liked for himself when he was in here of a morning before you got up. He was in and out a great deal, that's certain. And as regards those two affairs, the documents we have about them are pretty plain, Mr. Fullaway. Anybody of average intelligence could find out in ten minutes from our letter-book and telegram-book that we negotiated the sale of the Pinkie Pell pearls to Miss Lennard, and that Mr. James Allerdyke was bringing here a valuable parcel of jewels from Russia. And," concluded Mrs. Marlow quietly, "from what I saw of him, Ebers was a smart man."

Van Koon, who had been listening attentively to all this, turned a half-whimsical, half-reproving glance on Fullaway, who sat in a contrite attitude, drumming his fingers on the polished table.

"I guess you're a very careless individual, my friend," he said, shaking his head. "If you will leave your important papers lying about, as this lady says you're in the habit of doing, what do you expect? Now, you've been wondering who got wind of this jewel deal, and here's the very proof that you gave every chance to this Ebers to acquaint himself with it! And what I'd like to know now, Fullaway, is this—what use do you suppose this young fellow made of the information he acquired? That seems to me to be the point."

"Yes!" exclaimed Allerdyke suddenly. "That is the point!"

Fullaway smote the table.

"The thing's obvious!" he cried. "He sold his information to a gang. There must have been—I mean must be—a gang. It's utterly impossible that all this could have been worked by one man. The man we've heard of in connection with the deaths of Lisette Beaurepaire and of Ebers himself is only one of the combination. I'm as sure of that as I am that I see you. But—who are they?"

Nobody answered this question. Allerdyke plunged his hands in his pockets and stared at Fullaway; Mrs. Marlow began to trace imaginary patterns on the surface of the table; Van Koon produced a penknife and began to scrape the edges of his filbert nails with a preoccupied air.

"There's the thing I've insisted on all along, Fullaway, you know," he said at last, finding that no one seemed inclined to speak. "I've insisted on it, but you've always put it off. I don't care what you say—it'll have to come to it. Let me suggest it, now, to our friends here—they're both cute enough, I reckon!"

"Oh, as you please, as you please!" replied Fullaway, with a wave of his hands. "Say anything you like, Van Koon—it seems as if too much couldn't be said at this juncture."

"All right," answered Van Koon. He turned to Allerdyke and Mrs. Marlow. "Ever since this affair was brought under my notice," he said, "I've pointed out to Fullaway certain features in connection with it. First—there's no evidence whatever that this plot originated in or was worked from Russia. Second—there is evidence that it began here in London and was carried out from London. And following on that second proposition comes another. Fullaway knew that these jewels were coming—"

He paused and gave the secretary a keen look. And Allerdyke, watching her just as keenly, saw her face and eyes as calm and inscrutable as ever; it was absolutely evident that nothing could move this woman, no chance word or allusion take her unawares. Van Koon smiled, and leaned nearer.

"But," he said, tapping the table in emphasis of his words, "there was somebody else who knew of this deal, somebody whose name Fullaway there steadfastly refuses to bring in. Delkin!"

Fullaway suddenly laughed, throwing up his arms.

"Delkin!" he exclaimed satirically. "A millionaire several times over! The thing's ridiculous, Van Koon! Delkin would kick me out if I went and asked him—"

"Delkin will have to be asked," interrupted Van Koon. "You will not face the facts, Fullaway. Millionaire, multimillionaire, Delkin was the third person (I'm leaving this valet, Ebers, clean out, though I've not the slightest doubt he was one of the pieces of the machine) who knew that James Allerdyke was bringing two hundred and fifty thousand pounds' worth of jewels for his, Delkin's approval! That's a fact, Fullaway, which cannot be got over."

"Psha!" exclaimed Fullaway. "I suppose you think Delkin, who could buy up the best jeweller's shop in London or Paris and throw its contents to the street children to play with—"

"What is it that's in your mind, Mr. Van Koon?" asked Allerdyke, interrupting Fullaway's eloquence. "You've some theory?"

"Well, I don't know about theory," answered Van Koon, "but I guess I've got some natural common sense. If Fullaway there thinks I'm suggesting that Delkin organized a grand conspiracy to rob James Allerdyke, Fullaway's wrong—I'm not. What I am suggesting, and have been suggesting this last three days, is that Delkin should be asked a plain and simple question, which is this—did he ever tell anybody of this proposed deal? If so—whom did he tell? And if that isn't business," concluded Van Koon, "then I don't know business when I see it!"

"What's your objection?" asked Allerdyke, looking across at Fullaway.

"What objection can you have?"

Fullaway shook his head.

"Oh, I don't know!" he said. "Except that it seems immaterial, and that I don't want to bother Delkin. I'm hoping that these jewels will be found, and that I'll be able to complete the transaction, and—besides, I don't believe for one instant that Delkin would tell anybody. I only had two interviews with Delkin—one at his hotel, one here. He understood the affair was an entirely private and secret transaction."

Mrs. Marlow suddenly raised her head, and spoke quickly.

"You're forgetting something, Mr. Fullaway," she said. "You had a letter from Mr. Delkin confirming the provisional agreement, which was that he should have the first option of buying the Princess Nastirsevitch's jewels, then being brought by Mr. James Allerdyke from Russia."

"True—true!" exclaimed Fullaway, clapping a hand to his forehead. "So I had! I'd forgotten that. But, after all, it was purely a private letter from Delkin, and—"

"No," interrupted Mrs. Marlow. "It was written and signed by Mr. Delkin's secretary. So that the secretary knew of the transaction."

Van Koon shook his head and glanced at Allerdyke.

"There you are!" he said. "The secretary knew—Delkin's secretary! How do we know that Delkin's secretary—?"

"Oh, that's all rot, Van Koon!" exclaimed Fullaway testily. "Delkin's secretary, Merrifield, has been with him for years to my knowledge, and—"

But Allerdyke had suddenly risen and was picking up his hat from a side table. He turned to Fullaway as he put it on.

"I quite agree with Mr. Van Koon," he said, "and as I'm James Allerdyke's cousin and his executor, I'm going to step round and see this Mr. Delkin at his hotel—the Cecil, you said. It's no use trifling, Fullaway—Delkin knew, and Mrs. Marlow now tells us his secretary knew.

All right!—my job is to see, in person, anybody who knew. Then, maybe, I myself shall get to know."

Van Koon, too, rose.

"I know Delkin, slightly," he said. "I'll go with you."

At that, Fullaway jumped up, evidently annoyed and unwilling, but prepared to act against his own wishes.

"Oh, all right, all right!" he exclaimed. "In that case we'll all go. Come on—it's only across the Strand. Back after lunch, Mrs. Marlow, if anybody wants me."

The three men marched out, and left the pretty secretary standing by the table from which they had all risen. She stood there for a few minutes in deep thought—stood until a single stroke from the clock on the mantelpiece roused her. At that she walked into the outer office, put on her coat and hat, and, leaving the hotel, went sharply off in the direction of Arundel Street.

CHAPTER XXVII

THE MILLIONAIRE, THE STRANGER, AND THE PRINCESS

As the three men threaded their way through the crowded Strand and approached the Hotel Cecil, Fullaway suddenly drew their attention to a private automobile which was turning in at the entrance to the courtyard.

"There's Delkin, in his car," he exclaimed, "and, great Scott, there's our Princess with him—Nastirsevitch! But who's the other man? Looks like a compatriot of ours, Van Koon, eh?"

Van Koon, who had been staring about him as they crossed over from the corner of Wellington Street, turned and glanced at the occupants of the car. Allerdyke was looking there, too. He had never seen Delkin as yet, and he was curious to set eyes on a man who had made several millions out of canning meat. He had no very clear conception of American millionaires, and he scarcely knew what he expected to see. But there were two men in the car with the Princess Nastirsevitch, and they were both middle-aged. One man was a tall, handsome, military-looking fellow, dressed in grey tweeds and wearing a Homburg hat of light grey with a darker band; his upturned, grizzled moustache gave him a smart, rather aggressive appearance; the monocle in his eye added to his general impressiveness. The other man was not particularly impressive—a medium sized, rather plump little man, with a bland, smiling countenance and mild eyes beaming through gold-rimmed spectacles; he sat with his back to the driver, and was just then leaning forward to tell something to the Princess and the man in the Homburg hat who were bending towards him and, smiling at what he said.

"Which of 'em is Delkin, then?" asked Allerdyke as the automobile swept into the courtyard. "Big or little?"

"The little fellow with the spectacles," replied Fullaway. "Quiet, unobtrusive man, Delkin—but cute as they're made. Know the other man, Van Koon?"

Van Koon had twisted round and was staring back in the direction from which they had come, he shook his head, a little absent-mindedly.

"Not from Adam," he answered, "but there's a man—Bostonian—just gone along there that I do know and want to see badly. Wait a bit for me in the courtyard there, Fullaway—shan't be long."

He turned as he spoke, and darted off through the crowd, unusually dense at that moment because of the luncheon hour. Fullaway, making no comment, walked forward into the courtyard and looked about him. Suddenly he nodded his head towards a far corner.

"There's Delkin and the Princess, and the man who was with them, sitting at a table over there," he said. "I didn't know that Delkin and the Princess were acquainted. But then, of course, they're both staying in this hotel, and they're both American. Well, shall we go to them now, Allerdyke, or shall we sit down here and wait a bit for Van Koon?"

"We'll wait," replied Allerdyke. He dropped into a chair and drew out his cigarette-case. "Have a drink while we're waiting?" he suggested, beckoning a waiter who was passing. "What's it to be?"

"Oh—something small, then," said Fullaway. "Dry sherry. Better bring three—Van Koon won't be long."

But the minutes passed and Van Koon was still absent. Ten minutes more went, and still he did not come. And Fullaway pulled out his watch with an air of annoyance.

"Too bad of Van Koon," he said. "Time's going, and I know Delkin lunches at two o'clock. Come on, Allerdyke," he continued, rising, "we'll go over to Delkin. If Van Koon comes, he'll find us. He's probably gone off with that other man, though—he's an absent-minded chap in some things, and too much given to the affair of the moment. Come on—I'll introduce you."

The Chicago millionaire, once put in possession of Allerdyke's name, looked at him with manifest curiosity, and motioned him and Fullaway to take seats with himself and his two companions.

"We were just talking of your case, Mr. Allerdyke," he said quietly. "The Princess, of course, has told me about you. Fullaway, I don't know if you know this gentleman—his name's well enough known, anyway. This gentleman is Mr. Chilverton, the famous New York detective. Chilverton—Mr. Fullaway, Mr. Allerdyke."

Fullaway and Allerdyke both looked at the man in the Homburg hat with great interest as they shook hands with him. Fullaway at any rate knew of his world-wide reputation; Allerdyke faintly remembered that he had heard of him in connection with some great criminal affair.

"Been telling Mr. Chilverton about our business, Mr. Delkin?" asked Fullaway pleasantly. "Asking his expert advice?"

"I've told him no more than what he could read for himself in the newspapers," answered Delkin. "He's got stuff of his own to attend to, here in London. About our affair now, as you call it, Fullaway. It's not my affair, or I guess I'd have been more into it by this time. The Princess here thinks things are going real slow, and so do I. What do you think, Mr. Allerdyke!"

"It's a case in which things go slow of sheer necessity," replied Allerdyke. "It's a case of widespread ramifications—to use a long word. But—we keep having developments, Mr. Delkin. There's been one this morning. We came to see you about it—and perhaps you'll let Fullaway tell!—he'll put things into fewer words than I should."

"Sure!" answered the millionaire. "Go ahead, Fullaway—we're all interested."

Fullaway briefly told the story of the discovery at the hotel in the Docks that morning, and explained the deductions which had been made from it. He detailed the connection of Ebers, alias Federman or Herman, with himself, and reported the conversation which had just taken place at his own rooms. And then he turned to Allerdyke, with an expressive gesture.

"I'll let Allerdyke say why we came here," he said. "It was his idea and Van Koon's—not mine. Your turn, Allerdyke."

"I shan't be slow to take it," responded Allerdyke, stirring himself. "I'm one business man—Mr. Delkin's another. I only want to ask you, Mr. Delkin, if you ever talked of this jewel transaction to anybody beyond your own secretary? It's a plain question, and you'll understand why I ask it."

"Of course," replied Delkin genially. "Quite right to ask. I can answer it in one word. No! As to telling my secretary, Merrifield, who's been with me twelve years, and is a thoroughly trustworthy man, I merely told him sufficient for him to write and send that formal letter—he knew, and knows (at least, not from me) no details. No, sir!—never a word from me got about—not even to my own daughter. Of course, the Princess here and myself have discussed matters—since she came. And now that you're here, Fullaway, I'll tell you what I think—straight out. I think this affair has all been planned from your own office!"

Fullaway flushed and sat up in an attitude of sudden indignation.

"Oh, come, Mr. Delkin!" he exclaimed. "I—"

"Go softly, young man." said Delkin. "I mean no harm to you, and no reflections on you. But you know, I've been in your office a few times, and I have eyes in my head. What do you know about that fascinating young woman you have there? I'm a pretty good judge of human nature and character, and I should say that young lady is as clever and deep as they make 'em. Who is she? There's one thing sure from what you've just told us, Fullaway—you let her know all your business secrets."

Fullaway made no attempt to conceal his chagrin and vexation.

"I've had Mrs. Marlow in my employ for three years," he answered. "She came to me with excellent testimonials and references. I've just as much reason to trust her as you have to trust Merrifield. If she'd been untrustworthy, she could have robbed or defrauded me many a time over; she—"

"Did she ever have the chance of getting hold of a quarter of a million's worth of jewels before?" asked Delkin with a shrewd glance at Allerdyke. "Come, now! Even the most trusted people fall before a very big temptation. All business folk know that. What's Mr. Allerdyke think?"

Allerdyke was not going to say what he thought. He was wondering if Fullaway knew what he knew—that Mrs. Marlow was also Miss Slade, that she had some relations with a man who also bore two different names, that her actions were somewhat suspicious. But that was not the time to say all this—he said something non-committal instead.

"There seems to be no doubt that the knowledge that my cousin was carrying the jewels leaked out here—and from Fullaway's office," he answered.

"Through this fellow Ebers!" broke in Fullaway excitedly. "It's all rot to think that Mrs. Marlow had anything to do with it! Great Scott!—do any of you mean to suggest that she engineered several murders, and—"

Delkin laughed—a soft, cynical laugh.

"You're lumping a lot of big stuff altogether, Fullaway," he remarked drily. "Do you know what I think of all this business? I think that everybody's jumping at conclusions. There are lots of questions, problems, difficulties that want solving and answering before I come to any conclusion. I'll tell you what they are," he went on bending forward in his lounge chair and looking from one to the other of the faces around him and beginning to tick off his points on the tips of his fingers. "Listen! One—Was James Allerdyke really murdered, or did he die a natural death? Two—Had James Allerdyke those jewels in his possession when he entered that S– Hotel at Hull! Three—Has the robbery, or disappearance, of the Princess Nastirsevitch's jewels anything whatever to do with the theft of Mademoiselle de Longarde's property? Four—Was that man Lydenberg shot in Hull as a result of some connection with either, or both, of these affairs, or was he murdered for private or political reasons? Let me get a clear understanding of everything that's behind all these problems," he concluded, with a knowing smile, "and I'll tell you something!"