CHAPTER XI
THEORIES
Bruce announced his departure from Monte Carlo by a telegram to hisvalet.
Nevertheless, he did not expect to find that useful adjunct to hissmall household--Smith and his wife comprised the barrister's_menage_--standing on the platform at Charing Cross when the mailtrain from the Continent steamed into the station.
Smith, who had his doubts about this sudden trip to the Riviera, wasrelieved when he saw his master was alone. "Sir Charles Dyke called thisafternoon, sir," he explained. "I told Sir Charles about your wire, sir,and he is very anxious that you should dine with him to-night. You candress at Portman Square, and if I come with you--"
"Yes; I understand. Bundle everything into a four-wheeler."
"Sir Charles thought you might come, sir, so he sent his carriage."
London looked dull but familiar as they rolled across Leicester Squareand up Regent Street. Your true Cockney knows that he is out of hislatitude when the sky is blue overhead. Let him hear the tinkle of thehansoms' bells through a dim, fog-laden atmosphere, and he knows wherehe is. There is but one London, and Cockneydom is the order ofMelchisedek. Claude's heart was glad within him to be home again, eventhough the band was just gathering in the Casino gardens, and the lightsof Monaco were beginning to gleam over the moon-lit expanse of theMediterranean.
At Wensley House the traveller was warmly welcomed by the baronet, whoseemed to have somewhat recovered his health and spirits.
Nevertheless, Bruce was distressed to note the ineffaceable signs of thesuffering Sir Charles Dyke had undergone since the disappearance of hiswife. He had aged quite ten years in appearance. Deep lines of sorrowfulthought had indented his brow, his face was thinner, his eyes hadacquired a wistful look; his air was that of a man whose theory of lifehad been forcibly reversed.
At first both men fought shy of the topic uppermost in their minds, butthe after-dinner cigar brought the question to Dyke's lips:
"And now, Claude, have you any further news concerning mywife's--death?"
The barrister noted the struggle before the final word came. The husbandhad, then, resigned all hope.
"I have none," he answered. "That is to say, I have nothing definite. Ipromised to tell you everything I did, so I will keep my promise, butyou will, of course, differentiate between facts and theories?"
The baronet nodded an agreement.
"In the first place," said Bruce, "let me ask you whether or not youhave seen Jane Harding, the missing maid?"
"Yes. It seems that she called here twice before she caught me at home.At first she was very angry about a squabble there had been betweenThompson and herself. I refused to listen to it. Then she told me howyou had found her at some theatre, and she volunteered an explanationof her extraordinary behavior. She said that she had unexpectedlycome into a large sum of money, and that it had turned her head. Shewas sorry for the trouble her actions had caused, so, under thecircumstances, I allowed her to take away certain clothes and otherbelongings she had left here."
"Did she ask for these things?"
"Yes. Made quite a point of it."
"Did you see them?"
"No."
"So you do not know whether they were of any value, or the usualcollection of rubbish found in servants' boxes."
"I have not the slightest notion."
"Have they ever been thoroughly examined by any one?"
"'Pon my honor, I believe not. Now that you remind me of it I think thegirl seemed rather anxious on that point. I remember my housekeepertelling me that Harding had asked her if her clothes had been ransackedby the detectives."
"And what did the housekeeper say?"
"She will tell you herself. Let us have her up."
"Don't trouble her. If I remember aright the police did not examine JaneHarding's room. They simply took your report and the statements of theother servants, while the housekeeper was responsible for the partialsearch made through the girl's boxes for some clue that might lead toher discovery."
"That is so."
The barrister smoked in silence for a few minutes, until Sir Charlesbroke out rather querulously:
"I suppose I did wrong in letting Harding take her traps?"
"No," said Bruce. "It is I who am to blame. There is somethingunderhanded about this young woman's conduct. The story about the suddenwealth is all bunkum, in one sense. That she did receive a bequest orgift of a considerable sum cannot be doubted. That she at once decidedto go on the stage is obvious. But what is the usual course for aservant to pursue in such cases? Would she not have sought first toglorify herself in the sight of her fellow-servants, and even of heremployers? Would there not have been the display of a splendiddeparture--in a hansom--with voluble directions to the driver, for thebenefit of the footman? As it was, Jane Harding acted suddenly,precipitately, under the stress of some powerful emotion. I cannot helpbelieving that her departure from this house had some connection,however remote, with Lady Dyke's disappearance."
"Good heavens, Claude, you never told me this before."
"True, but when we last met I had not the pleasure of Miss Marie leMarchant's acquaintance. I wish to goodness I had rummaged her boxesbefore she carried them off."
"And I sincerely echo your wish," said Sir Charles testily. "It alwaysseems, somehow, that I am to blame."
"You must not take that view. I really wonder, Dyke, that you have notclosed up your town house and gone off to Scotland for the fag-end ofthe shooting season. You won't hunt, I know, but a quiet life on themoors would bring you right away from associations which must havebitter memories for you."
"I would have done so, but I cannot tear myself away while there is theslightest chance of the mystery attending my wife's fate beingunravelled. I feel that I must remain here near you. You are the onlyman who can solve the riddle, if it ever be solved. By the way, what ofRaleigh Mansions?"
The baronet obviously nerved himself to ask the question. The reason waspatent. His wife's inexplicable visit to that locality was in some wayconnected with her fate, and the common-sense view was that someintrigue lay hidden behind the impenetrable wall of ignorance thatshrouded her final movements.
Bruce hesitated for a moment. Was there any need to bring Mrs. Hillmer'sname into the business? At any rate, he could fully answer Sir Charleswithout mentioning her at this juncture.
"The only person in Raleigh Mansions who interests me just now is onewho, to use a convenient bull, is not there."
"Yes?"
"This person occupies a flat in No. 12, his name is Sydney H. Corbett,and he left his residence for the Riviera two days after your wife waslost."
"Now, who on earth can _he_ be? I am as sure as a man may be of anythingthat no one of that name was in the remotest way connected with eithermy wife or myself for the last--let me see--six years, at any rate."
"Possibly. But you cannot say that Lady Dyke may not have met himpreviously?"
The baronet winced at the allusion as though a whip had struck him. "Forheaven's sake, Claude," he cried, "do not harbor suspicions against her.I cannot bear it. I tell you my whole soul revolts at the idea. I wouldrather be suspected of having killed her myself than listen to a wordwhispered against her good name."
"I sympathize with you, but you must not jump at me in that fashion. Onehypothesis is as wildly impossible as the other. I did not say that LadyDyke went to Raleigh Mansions on account of some present or bygonetransgression of her own. I would as soon think of my mother in such aconnection. But a pure, good woman will often do on behalf of otherswhat she will not do for herself. Really, Dyke, you must not be unjustto me, especially when you force me to tell you what may prove to bemere theories."
"Others? What others?"
"I cannot say. I wish I could. If I once lay hold of the reason thatbrought Lady Dyke to Raleigh Mansions, I will, within twenty-four hours,tell you who murdered her. Of that I am as certain as that the sun willrise to-morrow."
And the barrister
poked the fire viciously to give vent to the annoyancethat his friend's outburst had provoked.
"Pardon me, Bruce. Do not forget how I have suffered--what I amsuffering--and try to bear with me. I never valued my wife while shelived. It is only now that I feel the extent of my loss. If my own lifewould only restore her to me for an instant I would cheerfully give it."
If ever man meant his words this man did. His agitation moved the kindlyhearted barrister to rise and place a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"I am sorry, Dyke," he said, "that the conversation has taken this turn.These speculative guesses at potential clues distress you. If you tookmy advice, you would not worry about events until at least somethingtangible turns up."
"Perhaps it is best so," murmured the other. "In any event, it is oflittle consequence. I cannot live long."
"Oh, nonsense. You are good for another fifty years. Come, shake offthis absurd depression. You can do no good by it. I wish now I had takenyou with me to Monte Carlo. The fresh air would have braced you up whileI hunted for Corbett."
"Did you find him?"
"No, but I dropped in for an adventure that would cheer the soul of anydepressed author searching vainly for an idea for a short story."
"What was it?"
Claude, who possessed no mean skill as a _raconteur_, gave him thehistory of the Casino incident, and the thrilling _denouement_ sointerested the baronet that he lit another cigar.
"Did you ascertain the names of the parties?" he said.
"Oh yes. You will respect their identity, as the sensational side of theaffair had better now be buried in oblivion, though, of course, all theworld knows about the way we scooped the bank. The lady is a daughter ofSir William Browne, a worthy knight from Warwickshire, and her ratherrapid swain is a youngster named Mensmore."
"Mensmore!" shouted the baronet. "A youngster, you say?" and Sir Charlesbounced upright in his excitement.
"Why, yes, a man of twenty-five. No more than twenty-eight, I can swear.Do you know him?"
"Albert Mensmore?"
"That's the man beyond doubt."
Dyke hastily poured out some whiskey and water and swallowed it. Then hespoke, with a faint smile: "You didn't know, Bruce," he said, "that youvividly described the attempted self-murder of a man I know intimately."
"What an extraordinary thing! Yet I never remember hearing you mentionhis name."
"Probably not. I have hardly seen him since my marriage. We wereschoolboys together, though I was so much his senior that we did notchum together until later, when we met a good deal on the turf. Then hewent off, roughing it in the States. It must be he. It is just one ofhis pranks. And he is going to marry, eh? Is she a nice girl?"
The baronet was thoroughly excited. He talked fast, and helped himselfliberally to stimulants.
"Yes, unusually so. But I cannot help marvelling at this coincidence. Ithas upset you."
"Not a bit. I was interested in your yarn, and naturally I wasunprepared for the startling fact that an old friend of mine filled thechief part. What a fellow you are, Claude, for always turning up at theright time. I have never been in a tight place personally, but if I wereI suppose you would come along and show me the way out. Sit down againand give me all the details. I am full of curiosity."
Bruce had never before seen Sir Charles in such a hysterical mood. Theanguish of the past three months had changed the careless, jovialbaronet into a fretful, wayward being, who had lost control of hisemotions. Undoubtedly he required some powerful tonic. The barristerresolved to see more of him in the future, and not to cease urging himuntil he had started on a long sea voyage, or taken up some hobby thatwould keep his mind from brooding upon the everlasting topic of hiswife's strange death.
Dyke's fitful disposition manifested itself later. After he had listenedwith keen attention to all that Bruce had told him concerning Mensmoreand Phyllis Browne, he suddenly swerved back to the one engrossingthought.
"What are you going to do about Corbett?" he asked.
"Find him."
"But how?"
"People are always tied to a centre by a string, and no matter how longthe string may be, it contracts sooner or later. Corbett will turn up atRaleigh Mansions, and before very many weeks have passed, if I mistakenot."
"And then?"
"Then he will have to answer me a few pertinent questions."
"But suppose he knows nothing whatever about the business?"
"In that case I must confess the clue is more tangled than ever."
"It would be curious if Corbett and Jane Harding were in any wayassociated."
"If they were, it would take much to convince me that one or both couldnot supply at least some important information bearing on my--on ourquest. If Mr. White even knew as much as I do about them he would arrestthem at sight."
"Oh, he's a thick-headed chap, is White. By the way, that reminds me. Hegot hold of the maid, it seems, before she had bolted, and made her givehim some of my wife's clothes. By that means he established some sort ofa theory about--"
"About a matter on which we differ," put in Bruce quietly. "Let us talkof something else."
The other moved restlessly in his chair, but yielded. For the remainderof the evening they discussed questions irrelevant to the course of thisnarrative.
It was late when they separated, but Bruce found Smith sitting up forhim at home.
That faithful servitor bustled about, stirring the fire and turning upthe lights. Finally he nervously addressed his master:
"Pardon me, sir, but there was a policeman here asking about youto-night, sir."
"A policeman!"
"Well, sir, a detective--Mr. White, of Scotland Yard. I knew him, sir,though he did not think it. He came about ten o'clock, and asked whereyou were."
"Did you tell him?"
"Well, sir," and Smith shifted from one foot to the other, "I thought itbest to let him know the truth, sir."
"Good gracious, Smith, he is not going to handcuff me. You did quiteright. What did he say?"
"Nothing, sir; except that he would call again. He wouldn't leave hisname, but I know'd him all right."
"Thank you. Good-night. It was unnecessary that you should have remainedup. But I am obliged to you all the same."
The barrister laughed as he went to his room. "Really," he said tohimself, still highly amused, "White will cap all his previous feats bytrying to arrest me. I suspect he has thought of it for a long time."
And Mr. White _had_ thought of it.