CHAPTER XXVI
If punctuality is a virtue, then Mr. Maurice Van Nant deserved to go onrecord as one of the most virtuous men in existence. For the littleDutch clock in Captain Morrison's drawing-room had barely begun tostrike seven on the following Thursday evening when he put in anappearance there, and found the Captain and his daughter anxiouslyawaiting him. But, as virtue is, on most excellent authority, its ownreward, he had to be satisfied with the possession of it, since neitherNarkom nor Cleek was there to meet him.
But the reason for this defection was made manifest when Miss Morrisonplaced before him a telegram which had arrived some ten minutes earlierand read as follows: "Unavoidably delayed. Be with you at nine-thirty.Ask Mr. Van Nant to wait. Great and welcome piece of news forhim.--NARKOM."
Van Nant smiled.
"Great and welcome news," he repeated. "Then Mr. Headland must havefound something in the nature of a clue in Ireland, captain, though whathe could find there I can't imagine. Frankly, I thought him a stupidsort of fellow, but if he has managed to find a clue to poor George'swhereabouts over in Ireland, he must be sharper than I believed. Well,we shall know about that at half-past nine, when Mr. Narkom comes. Ihope nothing will happen to make him disappoint us again."
Nothing did. Promptly at the hour appointed, the red limousine whizzedup to the door, and Mr. Narkom made his appearance. But, contrary to theexpectations of the three occupants of the little drawing-room, he wasquite alone.
"So sorry I couldn't come earlier," he said, as he came in, looking andacting like the bearer of great good news; "but you will appreciate thedelay when I tell you what caused it. What's that, Mr. Van Nant?Headland? No, he's not with me. As a matter of fact, I've dispensed withhis services in this particular case. Fancy, Miss Morrison, the muffcame back from Ireland this evening, said the clairvoyante he consultedwent into a trance, and told him that the key to the mystery could onlybe discovered in Germany, and he wanted me to sanction his going overthere on no better evidence than that. Of course, I wouldn't; so I tookhim off the case forthwith, and set out to get another and a better manto handle it. That's what delayed me. And now, Mr. Van Nant"--fairlybeaming, and rubbing his palms together delightedly--"here's where thegreat and welcome news I spoke of comes in. I remembered what you saidthe other day--I remembered how your heart is wrapped up in the solvingof this great puzzle--what you said about it being a question of moneyalone; and so, what do you think I did? I went to that great man, Cleek.I laid the matter before him, told him there was no reward, that it wasjust a matter of sheer humanity--the consciousness of doing his duty andhelping another fellow in distress--and, throw up your hat and cheer, mydear fellow, for you've got your heart's desire: Cleek's consented totake the case!"
A little flurry of excitement greeted this announcement. Miss Morrisongrabbed his hand and burst into tears of gratitude; the Captain,forgetting in his delight the state of his injured foot, rose from hischair, only to remember suddenly and sit down again, his half-utteredcheer dying on his lips; and Van Nant, as if overcome by this unexpectedboon, this granting of a wish he had never dared to hope would befulfilled, could only clap both hands over his face and sobhysterically.
"Cleek!" he said, in a voice that shook with nervous catches and theemotion of a soul deeply stirred, "Cleek to take the case? The great,the amazing, the undeceivable Cleek! Oh, Mr. Narkom, can this be true?"
"As true as that you are standing here this minute, my dear sir. Not somuch of a money grabber as that muff Headland wanted you to believe, ishe--eh? Waived every hope of a reward, and took the case on the spot.He'll get at the root of it--Lord, yes! Lay you a sovereign to asixpence, Mr. Van Nant, he gets to the bottom of it and finds out whatbecame of George Carboys in forty-eight hours after he begins on thecase."
"And when will he begin, Mr. Narkom? To-morrow? The next day? Or notthis week at all? When, sir--when?"
"When? Why, bless your heart, man, he's begun already--or, at least,will do so in another hour and a half. He's promised to meet us at yourhouse at eleven o'clock to-night. Chose that place because he lives atPutney, and it's nearer. Eleven was the hour he set, though, of course,he may arrive sooner; there's no counting on an erratic fellow like thatchap. So we'll make it eleven, and possess our souls in patience untilit's time to start."
"But, my dear Mr. Narkom, wouldn't it be better, or, at least, morehospitable if I went over to meet him, in case he does come earlier?There's no one in the house, remember, and it's locked up."
"Lord bless you, that won't bother him! Never travels without his tools,you know--skeleton keys, and all that--and he'll be in the house beforeyou can wink an eye. Still, of course, if you'd rather be there to admithim in the regulation way--"
"It would at least be more courteous, Mr. Narkom," Miss Morrisoninterposed. "So great a man doing so great a favour--Oh, yes, I reallythink that Mr. Van Nant should."
"Oh, well, let him then, by all means," said Narkom. "Go, if you choose,Mr. Van Nant. I'd let you have my motor, only I must get over to thestation and 'phone up headquarters on another affair in five minutes."
"It doesn't matter, thank you all the same. I can get a taxi at the topof the road," said Van Nant; and then, making his excuses to MissMorrison and her father, he took up his hat and left the house. As amatter of fact, it was only courtesy that made him say that about thetaxi, for there is rarely one to be found waiting about in theneighbourhood of Wandsworth Common after half-past nine o'clock atnight, and nobody could have been more surprised than he when heactually did come across one, loitering about aimlessly and quite empty,before he had gone two dozen yards.
He engaged it on the spot, jumped into it, gave the chauffeur hisdirections, and a minute later was whizzing away to the isolated house.It was eight minutes past ten when he reached it, standing as black andlightless as when he left it four hours ago, and, after paying off thechauffeur and dismissing the vehicle, he fumbled nervously for hislatchkey, found it, unlocked the door, and went hurriedly in.
"Have you come yet, Mr. Cleek?" he called out, as he shut the door andstood in the pitch-black hall. "Mr. Cleek! Mr. Cleek, are you here? Itis I--Maurice Van Nant. Mr. Narkom has sent me on ahead."
Not a sound answered him, not even an echo. He sucked in his breath witha sort of wheezing sound, then groped round the hall table till he foundhis bedroom candle, and, striking a match, lit it. The staircase leadingto the upper floors gaped at him out of the partial gloom, and he fairlysprang at it--indeed, was halfway up it when some other idea possessedhim, brought him to a sudden standstill, and, facing round abruptly, hewent back to the lower hall again, glimmering along it like a shadow,with the inadequate light held above him, and moving fleetly to thestudio in the rear.
The door stood partly open, just as he had left it. He pushed it inwardand stepped over the threshold.
"Mr. Cleek!" he called again. "Mr. Cleek! Are you here?"
And again the silence alone answered him. The studio was as he had seenit last, save for those fantastic shadows which the candle's waveringflame wreathed in the dim corners and along the pictured walls. There,on its half-draped pedestal, the Roman senator stood--dead white againstthe purple background--and there, close to the foot of it, the greatbulk of the disproportionate nymph still sprawled, finished andwhitewashed now, and looking even more of a monstrosity than ever inthat waving light.
He gave one deep gulping sigh of relief, flashed across the room ontiptoe, and went down on his knees beside the monstrous thing, movingthe candle this way and that along the length of it, as if searching forsomething, and laughing in little jerky gasps of relief when he foundnothing that was not as it had been--as it should be--as he wanted it tobe. And then, as he rose and patted the clay, and laughed aloud as herealised how hard it had set, then, at that instant, a white shapelurched forward and swooped downward, carrying him down with it. Thecandle slipped from his fingers and clattered on the floor, a pair ofsteel handcuffs clicked as they closed round his wrists, a voice abovehim sa
id sharply: "You wanted Cleek I believe? Well, Cleek's got you,you sneaking murderer. Gentlemen, come in! Allow me to turn over to youthe murderer of George Carboys! You'll find the body inside thatslumbering nymph!"
And the last thing that Mr. Maurice Van Nant saw, as he shrieked andfainted, the last thing he realised, was that lights were flashing upand men tumbling in through the opening windows; that the Romansenator's pedestal was empty, and the figure which once had stood uponit was bending over him--alive!
And just at that moment the red limousine flashed up out of thedarkness, the outer door whirled open and Narkom came pelting up.
"He took the bait, then, Cleek?" he cried, as he saw the manacled figureon the floor, with the "Roman senator" bending over and the policemencrowding in about it. "I guessed it when I saw the lights flash up. I'vebeen on his heels ever since he snapped at that conveniently placed taxiafter he left Miss Morrison and her father."
"You haven't brought them with you, I hope, Mr. Narkom? I wouldn't havethat poor girl face the ordeal of what's to be revealed here to-nightfor worlds."
"No, I've not. I made a pretext of having to 'phone through toheadquarters, and slipped out a moment after him. But, I say, my dearchap"--as Cleek's hands made a rapid search of the pockets of theunconscious man, and finally brought to light a folded paper--"what'sthat thing? What are you doing?"
"Compounding a felony in the interest of humanity," he made reply as heput the end of the paper into the flame of the candle and held it thereuntil it was consumed. "We all do foolish things sometimes when we areyoung, Mr. Narkom, and--well, George Carboys was no exception when hewrote the little thing I have just burned. Let us forget all aboutit--Captain Morrison is heir-at-law, and that poor girl will benefit."
"There was an estate, then?"
"Yes. My cable yesterday to the head of the Persian police set all doubtupon that point at rest. Abdul ben Meerza, parting with nothing while helived, after the manner of misers in general, left a will bequeathingsomething like ?12,000 to George Carboys, and his executor communicatedthat fact to the supposed friend of both parties--Mr. Maurice Van Nant;and exactly ten days ago, so his former solicitor informed me, Mr.Maurice Van Nant visited him unexpectedly, and withdrew from his keepinga sealed packet which had been in the firm's custody for eight years. Ifyou want to know why he withdrew it--Dollops!"
"Right you are, Gov'nor."
"Give me the sledge-hammer. Thanks! Now, Mr. Narkom, look!" And,swinging the hammer, he struck at the nymph with a force that shatteredthe monstrous thing to atoms; and Narkom, coming forward to look whenCleek bent over the ruin he had wrought, saw in the midst of the dustand rubbish the body of a dead man, fully clothed, and with the gap of abullet-hole in the left temple.
Again Cleek's hands began a rapid search, and again, as before, theybrought to light a paper, a little crumpled ball of paper that had beenthrust into the right-hand pocket of the dead man's waistcoat, as thoughjammed there under the stress of strong excitement and the pressure ofgreat haste. He smoothed it out and read it carefully, then passed itover to Mr. Narkom.
"There!" he said, "that's how he lured him over to his death. That's themessage the pigeon brought. Would any man have failed to fly to face theauthor of a foul lie like that?"
"Beloved Mary," the message ran, "come to me again to-night. How sweetof you to think of such a thing as the belt to get him over and to makehim stop until morning! Steal out after he goes to bed, darling. I'llleave the studio window unlocked, as usual. With a thousand kisses.
"Your own devoted,
"MAURICE."
"The dog!" said Narkom fiercely. "And against a pure creature like MaryMorrison! Here, Smathers, Petrie, Hammond, take him away. Hanging's toogood for a beastly cur like that!"
* * * * *
"How did I know that the body was inside the statue?" said Cleek,answering Narkom's query, as they drove back in the red limousine towardLondon and Clarges Street. "Well, as a matter of fact, I never did knowfor certain until he began to examine the thing to-night. From the firstI felt sure he was at the bottom of the affair, that he had luredCarboys back to the house, and murdered him; but it puzzled me to thinkwhat could possibly have been done with the body. I felt pretty certain,however, when I saw that monstrous statue."
"Yes, but why?"
"My dear Mr. Narkom, you ought not to ask that question. Did it notstrike you as odd that a man who was torn with grief over thedisappearance of a loved friend should think of modelling any sort of astatue on that very first day, much less such an inartistic one as that?Consider: the man has never been a first-class sculptor, it is true, buthe knew the rudiments of his art, he had turned out some fairlypresentable work; and that nymph was as abominably conceived and asabominably executed as if it had been the work of a raw beginner. Thenthere was another suspicious circumstance. Modelling clay is not exactlyas cheap as dirt, Mr. Narkom. Why, then, should this man, who wasconfessedly as poor as the proverbial church mouse, plunge into the wildextravagance of buying half a ton of it--and at such a time? Those arethe things that brought the suspicion into my mind; the certainty,however, had to be brought about beyond dispute before I could act.
"I knew that George Carboys had returned to that studio by the dry marksof muddy footprints, that were nothing like the shape of Van Nant's,which I found on the boards of the verandah and on the carpet under oneof the windows; I knew, too, that it was Van Nant who had sent thatpigeon. You remember when I excused myself and went back on the pretextof having forgotten my magnifying glass the other day? I did so for thepurpose of looking at that fifth pigeon. I had observed something on itsbreast feathers which I thought, at first glance, was dry mud, as thoughit had fallen or brushed against something muddy in its flight. As wedescended the stairs I observed that there was a similar mark on VanNant's sleeve. I brushed against him and scraped off a fleck with myfinger-nails. It was the dust of dried modelling clay. That on thepigeon's breast proved to be the same substance. I knew then that thehands of the person who liberated that pigeon were the hands of someonewho was engaged in modelling something or handling the clay of themodeller, and--the inference was clear.
"As for the rest; when Van Nant entered that studio to-night, frightenedhalf out of his wits at the knowledge that he would have to deal withthe one detective he feared, I knew that if he approached that statueand made any attempts to examine it I should have my man, and that thehiding-place of his victim's body would be proved beyond question. Whenhe did go to it, and did examine it--Clarges Street at last, thankfortune; for I am tired and sleepy. Stop here, Lennard; I'm getting out.Come along, Dollops. Good-night, Mr. Narkom! 'And so, to bed,' as goodold Pepys says."
And passed on, up the street, with his hand on the boy's shoulder andthe stillness and the darkness enfolding them.