CHAPTER VI
The last peace Sunday London was to know in many weary months went by,a tense and anxious day. Early on Monday the fifth letter from the youngman of the Agony Column arrived, and when the girl from Texas read itshe knew that under no circumstances could she leave London now.
It ran:
DEAR LADY FROM HOME: I call you that because the word home has for me,this hot afternoon in London, about the sweetest sound word ever had. Ican see, when I close my eyes, Broadway at midday; Fifth Avenue, gay andcolorful, even with all the best people away; Washington Square, coolunder the trees, lovely and desirable despite the presence everywhere ofalien neighbors from the district to the South. I long for home with anardent longing; never was London so cruel, so hopeless, so drab, in myeyes. For, as I write this, a constable sits at my elbow, and he andI are shortly to start for Scotland Yard. I have been arrested as asuspect in the case of Captain Fraser-Freer's murder!
I predicted last night that this was to be a red-letter day in thehistory of that case, and I also saw myself an unwilling actor in thedrama. But little did I suspect the series of astonishing events thatwas to come with the morning; little did I dream that the net I havebeen dreading would to-day engulf me. I can scarcely blame InspectorBray for holding me; what I can not understand is why Colonel Hughes--
But you want, of course, the whole story from the beginning; and I shallgive it to you. At eleven o'clock this morning a constable called onme at my rooms and informed me that I was wanted at once by the ChiefInspector at the Yard.
We climbed--the constable and I--a narrow stone stairway somewhere atthe back of New Scotland Yard, and so came to the inspector's room.Bray was waiting for us, smiling and confident. I remember--silly as thedetail is--that he wore in his buttonhole a white rose. His manner ofgreeting me was more genial than usual. He began by informing me thatthe police had apprehended the man who, they believed, was guilty of thecaptain's murder.
"There is one detail to be cleared up," he said. "You told me the othernight that it was shortly after seven o'clock when you heard the soundsof struggle in the room above you. You were somewhat excited at thetime, and under similar circumstances men have been known to makemistakes. Have you considered the matter since? Is it not possible thatyou were in error in regard to the hour?"
I recalled Hughes' advice to humor the inspector; and I said that,having thought it over, I was not quite sure. It might have been earlierthan seven--say six-thirty.
"Exactly," said Bray. He seemed rather pleased. "The natural stressof the moment--I understand. Wilkinson, bring in your prisoner. Theconstable addressed turned and left the room, coming back a moment laterwith Lieutenant Norman Fraser-Freer. The boy was pale; I could see at aglance that he had not slept for several nights.
"Lieutenant," said Bray very sharply, "will you tell me--is it true thatyour brother, the late captain, had loaned you a large sum of money ayear or so ago?"
"Quite true," answered the lieutenant in a low voice.
"You and he had quarreled about the amount of money you spent?"
"Yes."
"By his death you became the sole heir of your father, the general. Yourposition with the money-lenders was quite altered. Am I right?"
"I fancy so."
"Last Thursday afternoon you went to the Army and Navy Stores andpurchased a revolver. You already had your service weapon, but to shoota man with a bullet from that would be to make the hunt of the policefor the murderer absurdly simple."
The boy made no answer.
"Let us suppose," Bray went on, "that last Thursday evening at halfafter six you called on your brother in his rooms at Adelphi Terrace.There was an argument about money. You became enraged. You saw him andhim alone between you and the fortune you needed so badly. Then--I amonly supposing--you noticed on his table an odd knife he had broughtfrom India--safer--more silent--than a gun. You seized it--"
"Why suppose?" the boy broke in. "I'm not trying to conceal anything.You're right--I did it! I killed my brother! Now let us get the wholebusiness over as soon as may be."
Into the face of Inspector Bray there came at that moment a look thathas puzzling me ever since--a look that has recurred to my mind againand again,--in the stress and storm of this eventful day. It was onlytoo evident that this confession came to him as a shock. I presume soeasy a victory seemed hollow to him; he was wishing the boy had put up afight. Policemen are probably like that.
"My boy," he said, "I am sorry for you. My course is clear. If you willgo with one of my men--"
It was at this point that the door of the inspector's room opened andColonel Hughes, cool and smiling, walked in. Bray chuckled at sight ofthe military man.
"Ah, Colonel," he cried, "you make a good entrance! This morning, when Idiscovered that I had the honor of having you associated with me in thesearch for the captain's murderer, you were foolish enough to make alittle wager--"
"I remember," Hughes answered. "A scarab pin against--a Homburg hat."
"Precisely," said Bray. "You wagered that you, and not I, would discoverthe guilty man. Well, Colonel, you owe me a scarab. Lieutenant NormanFraser-Freer has just told me that he killed his brother, and I was onthe point of taking down his full confession."
"Indeed!" replied Hughes calmly. "Interesting--most interesting! Butbefore we consider the wager lost--before you force the lieutenant toconfess in full--I should like the floor."
"Certainly," smiled Bray.
"When you were kind enough to let me have two of your men this morning,"said Hughes, "I told you I contemplated the arrest of a lady. I havebrought that lady to Scotland Yard with me." He stepped to thedoor, opened it and beckoned. A tall, blonde handsome woman of aboutthirty-five entered; and instantly to my nostrils came the pronouncedodor of lilacs. "Allow me, Inspector," went on the colonel, "tointroduce to you the Countess Sophie de Graf, late of Berlin, late ofDelhi and Rangoon, now of 17 Leitrim Grove, Battersea Park Road."
The woman faced Bray; and there was a terrified, hunted look in hereyes.
"You are the inspector?" she asked.
"I am," said Bray.
"And a man--I can see that," she went on, her flashing angrily atHughes. "I appeal to you to protect me from the brutal questioning ofthis--this fiend."
"You are hardly complimentary, Countess," Hughes smiled. "But I amwilling to forgive you if you will tell the inspector the story that youhave recently related to me."
The woman shut her lips tightly and for a long moment gazed into theeyes of Inspector Bray.
"He"--she said at last, nodding in the direction of Colonel Hughes--"hegot it out of me--how, I don't know."
"Got what out of you?" Bray's little eyes were blinking.
"At six-thirty o'clock last Thursday evening," said the woman, "I wentto the rooms of Captain Fraser-Freer, in Adelphi Terrace. An argumentarose. I seized from his table an Indian dagger that was lying there--Istabbed him just above the heart!"
In that room in Scotland Yard a tense silence fell. For the first timewe were all conscious of a tiny clock on the inspector's desk, for itticked now with a loudness sudden and startling. I gazed at the facesabout me. Bray's showed a momentary surprise--then the mask fell again.Lieutenant Fraser-Freer was plainly amazed. On the face of ColonelHughes I saw what struck me as an open sneer.
"Go on, Countess," he smiled.
She shrugged her shoulders and turned toward him a disdainful back. Hereyes were all for Bray.
"It's very brief, the story," she said hastily--I thought almostapologetically. "I had known the captain in Rangoon. My husband was inbusiness there--an exporter of rice--and Captain Fraser-Freer came oftento our house. We--he was a charming man, the captain--"
"Go on!" ordered Hughes.
"We fell desperately in love," said the countess. "When he returnedto England, though supposedly on a furlough, he told me he would neverreturn to Rangoon. He expected a transfer to Egypt. So it was arrangedthat I should desert my husband and follow on the n
ext boat. I didso--believing in the captain--thinking he really cared for me--I gave upeverything for him. And then--"
Her voice broke and she took out a handkerchief. Again that odor oflilacs in the room.
"For a time I saw the captain often in London; and then I began tonotice a change. Back among his own kind, with the lonely days inIndia a mere memory--he seemed no longer to--to care for me. Then--lastThursday morning--he called on me to tell me that he was through; thathe would never see me again--in fact, that he was to marry a girl of hisown people who had been waiting--"
The woman looked piteously about at us.
"I was desperate," she pleaded. "I had given up all that life heldfor me--given it up for a man who now looked at me coldly and spokeof marrying another. Can you wonder that I went in the evening to hisrooms--went to plead with him--to beg, almost on my knees? It was nouse. He was done with me--he said that over and over. Overwhelmed withblind rage and despair, I snatched up that knife from the table andplunged it into his heart. At once I was filled with remorse. I--"
"One moment," broke in Hughes. "You may keep the details of yoursubsequent actions until later. I should like to compliment you,Countess. You tell it better each time."
He came over and faced Bray. I thought there was a distinct note ofhostility in his voice.
"Checkmate, Inspector!" he said. Bray made no reply. He sat therestaring up at the colonel, his face turned to stone.
"The scarab pin," went on Hughes, "is not yet forthcoming. We are tiedfor honors, my friend. You have your confession, but I have one to matchit."
"All this is beyond me," snapped Bray.
"A bit beyond me, too," the colonel answered. "Here are two people whowish us to believe that on the evening of Thursday last, at half aftersix of the clock, each sought out Captain Fraser-Freer in his rooms andmurdered him."
He walked to the window and then wheeled dramatically.
"The strangest part of it all is," he added, "that at six-thirtyo'clock last Thursday evening, at an obscure restaurant inSoho--Frigacci's--these two people were having tea together!"
I must admit that, as the colonel calmly offered this information, Isuddenly went limp all over at a realization of the endless maze ofmystery in which we were involved. The woman gave a little cry andLieutenant Fraser-Freer leaped to his feet.
"How the devil do you know that?" he cried.
"I know it," said Colonel Hughes, "because one of my men happened to behaving tea at a table near by. He happened to be having tea there forthe reason that ever since the arrival of this lady in London, at therequest of--er--friends in India, I have been keeping track of her everymove; just as I kept watch over your late brother, the captain."
Without a word Lieutenant Fraser-Freer dropped into a chair and buriedhis face in his hands.
"I'm sorry, my son," said Hughes. "Really, I am. You made a heroiceffort to keep the facts from coming out--a man's-size effort it was.But the War Office knew long before you did that your brother hadsuccumbed to this woman's lure--that he was serving her and Berlin, andnot his own country, England."
Fraser-Freer raised his head. When he spoke there was in his voice anemotion vastly more sincere than that which had moved him when he madehis absurd confession.
"The game's up," he said. "I have done all I could. This will kill myfather, I am afraid. Ours has been an honorable name, Colonel; you knowthat--a long line of military men whose loyalty to their country hasnever before been in question. I thought my confession would end thewhole nasty business, that the investigations would stop, and thatI might be able to keep forever unknown this horrible thing abouthim--about my brother."
Colonel Hughes laid his hand on the boy's shoulder, and the latter wenton: "They reached me--those frightful insinuations about Stephen--in around about way; and when he came home from India I resolved to watchhim. I saw him go often to the house of this woman. I satisfied myselfthat she was the same one involved in the stories coming from Rangoon;then, under another name, I managed to meet her. I hinted to her thatI myself was none too loyal; not completely, but to a limited extent,I won her confidence. Gradually I became convinced that my brother wasindeed disloyal to his country, to his name, to us all. It was atthat tea time you have mentioned when I finally made up my mind. I hadalready bought a revolver; and, with it in my pocket, I went to theSavoy for dinner."
He rose and paced the floor.
"I left the Savoy early and went to Stephen's rooms. I was resolved tohave it out with him, to put the matter to him bluntly; and if he hadno explanation to give me I intended to kill him then and there. So, yousee, I was guilty in intention if not in reality. I entered his study.It was filled with strangers. On his sofa I saw my brother Stephenlying--stabbed above the heart--dead!" There was a moment's silence."That is all," said Lieutenant Fraser-Freer.
"I take it," said Hughes kindly, "that we have finished with thelieutenant. Eh, Inspector?"
"Yes," said Bray shortly. "You may go."
"Thank you," the boy answered. As he went out he said brokenly toHughes: "I must find him--my father."
Bray sat in his chair, staring hard ahead, his jaw thrust out angrily.Suddenly he turned on Hughes.
"You don't play fair," he said. "I wasn't told anything of the status ofthe captain at the War Office. This is all news to me."
"Very well," smiled Hughes. "The bet is off if you like."
"No, by heaven!" Bray cried. "It's still on, and I'll win it yet. A finemorning's work I suppose you think you've done. But are we any nearer tofinding the murderer? Tell me that."
"Only a bit nearer, at any rate," replied Hughes suavely. "This lady, ofcourse, remains in custody."
"Yes, yes," answered the inspector. "Take her away!" he ordered.
A constable came forward for the countess and Colonel Hughes gallantlyheld open the door.
"You will have an opportunity, Sophie," he said, "to think up anotherstory. You are clever--it will not be hard."
She gave him a black look and went out. Bray got up from his desk. Heand Colonel Hughes stood facing each other across a table, and tome there was something in the manner of each that suggested eternalconflict.
"Well?" sneered Bray.
"There is one possibility we have overlooked," Hughes answered. Heturned toward me and I was startled by the coldness in his eyes. "Do youknow, Inspector," he went on, "that this American came to London witha letter of introduction to the captain--a letter from the captain'scousin, one Archibald Enwright? And do you know that Fraser-Freer had nocousin of that name?"
"No!" said Bray.
"It happens to be the truth," said Hughes. "The American has confessedas much to me."
"Then," said Bray to me, and his little blinking eyes were on me witha narrow calculating glance that sent the shivers up and down my spine,"you are under arrest. I have exempted you so far because of your friendat the United States Consulate. That exemption ends now."
I was thunderstruck. I turned to the colonel, the man who had suggestedthat I seek him out if I needed a friend--the man I had looked to tosave me from just such a contingency as this. But his eyes were quitefishy and unsympathetic.
"Quite correct, Inspector," he said. "Lock him up!" And as I beganto protest he passed very close to me and spoke in a low voice: "Saynothing. Wait!"
I pleaded to be allowed to go back to my rooms, to communicate with myfriends, and pay a visit to our consulate and to the Embassy; and at thecolonel's suggestion Bray agreed to this somewhat irregular course. Sothis afternoon I have been abroad with a constable, and while I wrotethis long letter to you he has been fidgeting in my easy chair. Now heinforms me that his patience is exhausted and that I must go at once. Sothere is no time to wonder; no time to speculate as to the future, as tothe colonel's sudden turn against me or the promise of his whisper in myear. I shall, no doubt, spend the night behind those hideous, forbiddingwalls that your guide has pointed out to you as New Scotland Yard. Andwhen I shall write again, when I shall end t
his series of letters sofilled with--
The constable will not wait. He is as impatient as a child. Surely he islying when he says I have kept him here an hour.
Wherever I am, dear lady, whatever be the end of this amazing tangle,you may be sure the thought of you--Confound the man!
YOURS, IN DURANCE VILE.
This fifth letter from the young man of the Agony Column arrived at theCarlton Hotel, as the reader may recall, on Monday morning, Augustthe third. And it represented to the girl from Texas the climax of theexcitement she had experienced in the matter of the murder in AdelphiTerrace. The news that her pleasant young friend--whom she did notknow--had been arrested as a suspect in the case, inevitable as it hadseemed for days, came none the less as an unhappy shock. She wonderedwhether there was anything she could do to help. She even consideredgoing to Scotland Yard and, on the ground that her father was aCongressman from Texas, demanding the immediate release of herstrawberry man. Sensibly, however, she decided that Congressmen fromTexas meant little in the life of the London police. Besides, she nighthave difficulty in explaining to that same Congressman how she happenedto know all about a crime that was as yet unmentioned in the newspapers.
So she reread the latter portion of the fifth letter, which pictured herhero marched off ingloriously to Scotland Yard and with a worried littlesigh, went below to join her father.