CHAPTER V
The lady, whose visit to Gimblet dovetailed so neatly with the departureof his other client on that summer afternoon, was unknown to him.
He had scarcely re-entered the room and resumed his accustomed seat bythe window when Higgs announced her.
"A lady to see you, sir."
The lady was already in the doorway. She must have followed Higgs fromthe hall, and now stood, hesitating, on the threshold.
"What name?" breathed Gimblet; but Higgs only shook his head.
The detective went forward and spoke to his visitor.
"Please come in," he said. "Won't you sit down?"
And he pushed a chair towards her.
"Thank you," said the lady, taking the seat he offered. "I hope I do notdisturb you; but I have come on business," she added, as the door closedbehind Higgs.
"Yes?" said Gimblet interrogatively. "You will forgive me, but I didn'tcatch your name when my man announced you."
"He didn't say it," she replied. "I had not told him. I am sure you wouldnot remember my name, and it is of no consequence at present."
"As you wish," said the detective.
But he wondered who this unknown woman could be. When she said he wouldnot remember her name, did she mean to imply that he had once beenacquainted with it? If so, she was right in thinking that he did notrecognize her now; but, if she did not choose to raise the thick crapeveil that hid her face, she could hardly expect him to do so.
He wondered whether she kept her veil lowered with the intention ofpreventing his recognizing her, or whether in truth she were anxious notto expose grief-swollen features to an unsympathetic gaze.
Her voice, which was low and sorrowful, though at the same time curiouslyresonant, seemed to suggest that she was in great trouble. She spoke, hefancied, with a trace of foreign accent.
For the rest, all that he could tell for certain about her was that shewas short and slender, with small feet, and hands, from which she was nowengaged in deliberately withdrawing a pair of black suede gloves.
He watched her in silence. He always preferred to let people tell theirstories at their own pace and in their own way, unless they were of thosewho plainly needed to be helped out with questions.
And about this woman there was no suspicion of embarrassment; her wholedemeanour spoke of calmness and self-possession.
"I believe," she said at last, "that you are a private detective. I cometo ask for your help in a matter of some difficulty. Some papers of theutmost importance, not only to me but to others, are in the possession ofa person who intends to profit by the information contained in them to domyself and my friends an irreparable injury. You can imagine how anxiouswe are to obtain them from him."
"Do I understand that this person threatens you with blackmail?"asked Gimblet.
The lady hesitated.
"Something of the kind," she replied after a moment's pause.
"And you have so far given in to his demands?"
"Yes," admitted the visitor. "Up till now we have been obliged tosubmit."
"Has he proposed any terms on which he will be willing to return you thepapers?" asked the detective.
"No," she replied. "I do not think any terms are possible."
"How did this person obtain possession of the papers?" Gimblet askedafter a moment. "Did he steal them from you?"
"No."
"From your friends?"
She hesitated.
"No--not exactly."
"From whom, then?" asked Gimblet in surprise. "I suppose they were yoursin the first place?"
"He has always had them," she said reluctantly; "but they must notremain his."
"Do you mean they are his own?" exclaimed Gimblet. "In that case it isyou who propose to steal them!"
"No," replied the strange lady calmly. "I want you to do that."
"I'm sorry," said Gimblet; "that is not in my line of business. I'mafraid you made a mistake in coming to me. I cannot undertake yourcommission."
"Money is no object; we shall ask you to name your own price," urgedhis visitor.
But the detective shook his head.
"It is a matter of life and death," she said, and her voice betrayed anagitation which could not have been inferred from her motionless shroudedfigure. "If you refuse to help me, not one life, but many, will beendangered."
"If you can offer me convincing proof of that," said Gimblet, "I mightfeel it my duty to help you. I don't say I should, but I might. In anycase I can do nothing unless you are perfectly open and frank with me.Expect no assistance from me unless you tell me everything, and then onlyif I think it right to give it."
For the first time she showed some signs of confusion. The hand upon herlap moved restlessly and she turned her head slowly towards the window asif in search of suitable words. But she did not speak or rise, though shegradually fidgeted round in her chair till she faced the writing-table;and so sat, with her head leaning on her hand, in silent consideration.
It was clear she did not like Gimblet's terms; and after a few minuteshad passed in a silence as awkward as it was suggestive he pushed backhis chair and stood up. He hoped she would take the hint and bring anunprofitable and embarrassing interview to an end.
But she did not appear to notice him, and still sat lost in herown thoughts.
Suddenly the door opened and Higgs appeared.
Gimblet looked at him with questioning disapproval.
It was an inflexible rule of his that when engaged with a client he wasnot to be disturbed.
Higgs, well acquainted with this rule, hovered doubtfully in thedoorway, displaying on the salver he carried the blue, unaddressedenvelope Lord Ashiel had told him to deliver at once.
"It's a note, sir," he murmured hesitatingly. "The gentleman who was withyou a little while ago came back with it. He asked me to be sure andbring it in at once."
He avoided Gimblet's reproachful eye and stammered uneasily:
"Put it down on that table and go," said the detective. He indicated alittle table by the door, and Higgs hastily placed the letter on it andfled, with the uncomfortable sensation of having been sternly reproved.
As a matter of fact Gimblet would have shown more indignation if hehad not at heart felt rather glad of the interruption. His visitor haddecidedly outstayed her welcome; and, though she stirred his curiositysufficiently to make him wish he could induce her to raise her veiland let him see what manner of woman it was who had the effrontery tocome and make him such unblushing proposals, he far more urgentlydesired to see the last of her. She was wasting his time and annoyinghim into the bargain.
As the door shut behind the servant he made a step towards her.
"If, madam, there is nothing else you wish to consult me about," hebegan, taking out his watch with some ostentation--"I am a busy man--"
The lady gave a little laugh, low and musical.
"I will not detain you longer," she said, also rising from her chair. "Iam afraid I have cut into your afternoon, but you will still have timefor a game if you hurry."
She laughed again, and moved over to the writing-table, where, among alitter of papers and writing materials, a couple of golf balls wereacting as letter weights. A putter lay on the chair in front of the desk,and she took it up and swung it to and fro.
"A nice club," she remarked. "Where do you play, as a rule? There are somany good links near London; so convenient. Well, I mustn't keep you."She laid down the putter and fingered the balls for a moment. "Where haveI put my gloves?" she said then, looking around to collect herbelongings.
Gimblet was slightly put out at her inference that his plea of businesswas merely an excuse to dismiss her in order that he might go off andplay golf. Heaven knew it was no affair of hers whether he played golfthat day or not! But as a matter of fact he had no intention of leavingthe flat that afternoon, and had merely been practising a shot or two onthe carpet after lunch before Lord Ashiel's arrival. Still it was truethat he had made business a pretext for ge
tting rid of her, and this madethe injustice of the widow's further inference ruffle him more than itmight have if she had been entirely in the wrong. He was the mostcourteous of men, and that anyone should suspect him of unnecessaryrudeness distressed him.
He made no reply, however, in spite of the temptation to defend himself;but stooped to pick up a diminutive black suede glove which his visitorhad dropped when she took up the putter.
She thanked him and put it on, depositing, while she did so, her otherglove, her handkerchief, sunshade and a small brown-paper parcel upon thewriting-table at her side.
Gimblet did not appreciate seeing these articles heaped upon hiscorrespondence. Without any comment he removed them, and stood holdingthem silently till she should be ready.
She took them from him soon, with a little inclination of the head whichhe felt was accompanied by a smile of thanks, though through the thickcrape it was impossible to do more than guess at any expression.
She drew on her other glove and held out her hand again.
"My purse?" she said. "Will you not give me that too? Where have you putit? And then I must really go."
"I haven't seen any purse," said Gimblet.
"Yes, yes!" she cried. "A black silk bag! It has my purse inside it. Ihad it, I am sure."
She turned quickly back to the chair she had been sitting in, and takingup the cushion, shook it and peered beneath it.
"What can I have done with it? All my money is in it."
Gimblet glanced round the room. He did not remember having noticed anybag, and he was an observant person. She had probably left it in a cab.Women were always doing these things. Witness the heaped shelves atScotland Yard.
"Perhaps you put it down in the hall?" he suggested.
"I am sure I had it when I came in here," she repeated in an agitatedvoice. "But it might be worth while just to look in the hall," she addeddoubtfully, and moved towards the door.
Gimblet opened it for her gladly; but she came to a standstill inthe doorway.
"There is nothing there, you see;" she said dolefully. "Oh, whatshall I do!"
Gimblet looked over her shoulder. The hall was shadowy, with theperpetual twilight of the halls of London flats, but he fancied hecould perceive a darker shadow lying beside his hat on the table nearthe entrance.
"Is that it? On the table?" he asked.
"Where? I don't see anything," murmured the lady; and indeed it wasunlikely that she could distinguish anything in such a light frombehind her veil.
"On the table by my hat," repeated Gimblet; and as she still did notmove, he made a step forward into the hall.
Yes, it was her bag, beyond a doubt. A silken thing of black brocade,embroidered with scattered purple pansies.
Gimblet picked it up and turned back to his visitor. After a second'shesitation she had followed him into the hall and was coming towards him,groping her way rather blindly through the gloom.
"Oh, thanks, thanks!" she exclaimed. "How stupid of me to have left itthere. Thank you again. My precious bag! I am so glad you have found it."She took the bag eagerly from him. "I am afraid I have been a nuisance,and disturbed you to no purpose. You must forgive my mistake. But now Iwill not keep you any longer. Good-bye."
She showed no further disposition to loiter; and Gimblet rang the bellfor the lift and saw her depart with a good deal of satisfaction.
In spite of her extremely hazy ideas on the subject of other people'sproperty, there was, he admitted, something attractive about her. Stillhe was very glad she had gone.
He returned to his room, taking up and pocketing Lord Ashiel's envelopeas he passed the little table by the door.
He did it mechanically, for his mind was occupied with a question whichmust be immediately decided.
Was it, or was it not, worth while to have the woman who had just lefthim followed and located, and her identity ascertained?
Gimblet disliked leaving small problems unsolved, however insignificantthey appeared. On the whole, he thought he might as well find out who shewas, and he turned back into the hall and called for Higgs.
If she were to be caught sight of again before leaving the house therewas not a moment to lose. But Higgs did not reply, and on Gimblet'sopening the pantry door he found it empty. Unknown to him, the moment thelady had departed Higgs had gone upstairs to the flat above to have aword with a friend.
The detective seized his hat and ran downstairs, but he was too late.
The widow lady, the porter told him, had gone away two or three minutesago in the motor that had been waiting for her. No, he hadn't noticed thenumber of the car. Neither had he seen Higgs.
Gimblet shrugged his shoulders as he went upstairs again. After all, thematter was of no great consequence.
The widow was a cool hand, certainly, he thought, to come to him andpropose he should steal for her what she wanted; but the fact of herhaving done so made it on the whole improbable that she was a thief, orshe would not have had need of him. She was certainly a person ofquestionable principles, and it seemed likely that in one way or anothera theft would be committed through her agency, if not by herself, assoon as the opportunity presented itself. She was, in fact, a woman onwhom the police might do worse than keep an eye; but, reflected Gimblet,he was not the police, and the dishonesty of this scheming widow wasreally no concern of his. As he reached his door, a postman was leavingit, and two or three letters had been pushed through the flap. He lethimself in and took them out of the box. They were not of greatimportance. A bill, an appeal for a subscription to some charity, acouple of advertisements and the catalogue of a sale of pictures inwhich he was interested. He turned over the leaves slowly, holding thepamphlet sideways from time to time to look at the photographs whichillustrated some of the principal lots.
Presently he turned and went back into his room. He sat down in hisfavourite arm-chair near the window, where he habitually passed so muchtime gazing out on to the smooth surface of the river, and fell toruminating on the problem presented by Lord Ashiel's story.
For a long while he sat on, huddled in the corner of an arm-chair, hiselbows on the arm, his chin resting on his hand, and in his eyes the lookof one who wrestles with obscure and complicated problems of mentalarithmetic. From time to time, but without relaxing his expression ofconcentrated effort, he stretched out long artistic fingers to a box onthe table, took from it a chocolate, and transferred it mechanically tohis mouth. He always ate sweets when he had a problem on hand. He wastrying to think of some means by which his client could be protected fromthe mysterious danger that threatened him; that it was a very realdanger, Gimblet accepted without question; he had only seen Lord Ashieltwice in his life, but it was quite enough to make him certain that herewas a man whom it would take a great deal to alarm. This was no boycrying "wolf" for the sake of making a stir.
But the more he thought, the more he saw that there was nothing to bedone. A word to the police would suffice, no doubt, to precipitatematters; for, if the Nihilist Society which threatened Lord Ashielcontemplated his destruction, a hint that he might be already takingreciprocal measures would not be likely to make them feel more mercifullytowards him. It was obvious that Ashiel would look with suspicion uponany Russian who might approach him, but Gimblet determined to write him aline of warning against foreigners of any description. Still, thesesocieties sometimes had Englishmen amongst their members, and ways ofenforcing obedience upon their subordinates which made any decision theymight come to as good as carried out almost as soon as it was uttered.
The detective's cogitations were disturbed by Higgs, who had returned,and now brought him in some tea. He poured himself out half a cup, whichhe filled up with Devonshire cream. He had a peculiar taste in food, andwas the despair of his excellent cook, but on this occasion he ate noneof the cakes and bread and butter she had provided, the chocolates havingrather taken the edge off his appetite.
From where he sat he could see, through the open window, the broad greystretches of the river, wit
h a barge going swiftly down on the tide;brown sails turned to gleaming copper by the slanting rays from the West.The hum and rattle of the streets came up to him murmuringly; now andthen a train rumbled over Charing Cross Bridge, and the whistle ofengines shrilled out above the constant low clamour of the town.
Gimblet leant out of the window and watched the barge negotiate thebridge. Then he returned to his chair, and taking Lord Ashiel's envelopeout of his pocket looked it over thoughtfully before opening it. He hadno doubts as to what it contained; he had been on the point of remindingthe peer that he had forgotten to give him the key of the cipher he hadspoken of when the widow's ring at the door had driven him to a hurriedretreat, but he had not considered the omission of any particularsignificance. His client would certainly discover it and either return togive him the key, or send it to the flat.
It would probably be some time before it was required for use here. Inthe meantime, thought Gimblet, he would have a look at it before lockingit away in the safe.
He turned over the envelope. To his surprise, the flap was open and theglue had obviously never been moistened.
It was the work of an instant to look inside, but almost quicker came theconviction that it was useless to do so.
He was not mistaken.
The envelope was empty.
Gimblet stared at it for one moment in blank dismay. Then he strode tothe door and shouted for Higgs.
"Did you notice," he asked him, "whether the envelope Lord Ashiel gaveyou for me was fastened, or was it open as this one is?"
"Oh no, sir," replied Higgs, "it was sealed up. There was a large patchof red sealing-wax at the back, with a coronet and some sort of littlepicture stamped on it. I can't say I looked at it particularly, but theremay have been a lion or a dog, or some kind of animal. His lordship'sarms, no doubt"
"You are quite certain about the sealing-wax?" Gimblet repeated slowly.
"Yes, sir, I am quite certain about that," answered Higgs; and he couldnot refrain from adding, "I put down the note on this little table, sir,as you told me."
"Thank you. That is all."
Gimblet's tone was as undisturbed as ever, but inwardly he was seethingwith anger and disgust; directed, however, entirely against himself.
When Higgs had departed he allowed himself the unusual, though quiteinadequate relief of giving the chair on which his last visitor had sat aviolent kick. After that he felt rather more ashamed of himself thanbefore, if possible, and he sat down and raged at the simple way in whichhe had been fooled.
The widow had taken the envelope, of course. She must have snatched it upduring the few seconds he had turned his back on her in order to stepacross the hall and retrieve her bag, and have replaced it at the sameinstant with this empty one which she had no doubt taken from his ownwriting-table while he stooped beside her to pick up her glove.
Gimblet fetched one of his own blue envelopes and compared it with thesubstitute. Yes, they were alike in every particular. The watermarks werethe same and showed that she had used what she found ready to her hand.
It seemed, then, that the _coup_ was not premeditated. But why, why, hadhe let her escape so easily? If only he had been a little quicker aboutfollowing her, and had not wasted time looking for Higgs! She had hadtime to get clear away; and he, bungler that he was, had thought it oflittle consequence, and had afterwards stood poring over a catalogue inthe hall, having decided that her morals were no business of his. Assthat he had been!
Who was she? Probably some one known to Lord Ashiel, or why should shehave wanted his letter? Well, Ashiel must have met her on his way out,and would in that case at least be able to provide the information as towho she was. Still, more people might know Ashiel than Ashiel knew, andit was possible that that hope might fail. No doubt she was a member ofthe society the peer had so rashly entangled himself with in the days ofhis youth; one of those enemies of whom he had spoken with such graveapprehension. Had she followed him into the house and forced her way inon a trumped-up pretext, on the chance of hearing or finding somethingthat might be useful to her Nihilist friends, or had she known that LordAshiel intended to leave some document in Gimblet's keeping, and comewith the idea, already formed, of stealing it? Such a plan seemed topartake too much of the nature of a forlorn hope to be likely, butwhether or no she had expected to find that letter, Gimblet could hardlyhelp admiring the rapidity with which she had possessed herself of itwithout wasting an unnecessary moment.
She must have been safe in the street and away with it, in less thanfive minutes from when she first saw it. Oh, she had been quick anddexterous! And he? He had been a gull, and false to his trust, andaltogether contemptible. What should he say to Lord Ashiel? Why in theworld hadn't he locked up the letter when Higgs brought it in? This waswhat came of making red-tape regulations about not being disturbed. Afterall, he comforted himself, she would be a good deal disappointed when shefound what she had got. The key to a cipher; that was all. And a key withnothing to unlock was an unsatisfactory kind of loot to risk prison for.Evidently she expected something more important; perhaps the verydocuments she had invited Gimblet to steal for her, regardless ofexpense. This, he thought, was a reassuring sign for Lord Ashiel. For itwas plain they meant to steal the papers, if they could; but not so plainthat they looked to murder as the means by which to gain that end, sincethey applied for help from him.
Gimblet rang up the Carlton Club and asked for his client, but he was notin, nor did he succeed in communicating with him that afternoon; and whenhe rang up the Club for the fifth time after dinner he was told that LordAshiel had already left for Scotland.
With a groan, and fortifying himself with chocolates, the detective satdown to write a long and full account of his failure to keep what hadbeen confided to his care, for the space of one hour.
In a couple of days he had an answer. Ashiel did not seem much perturbedat the loss of the cipher.
"It is a nuisance, of course," he said. "I must think out another, andwill let you have it in a few days before sending you other things. No, Idid not recognize the person I met as I was leaving your rooms. In spiteof what you say as to your belief that theft and not murder is the objectof these people, I am still convinced that my life is aimed at. However,I think that for the present I have hit on a way of frustrating theirplans. With regard to the other problem you are helping me to solve, I amseeing a great deal of both the young people, and I believe there can beno doubt as to the identity of one of them, but I will write to you onthis subject also in a few days' time."
He sent Gimblet a couple of brace of grouse, which the detective devouredwith great satisfaction, and for the next week no more letters bearing aScotch postmark were delivered at the Whitehall flat.