CHAPTER XXXIII
A HAND IN THE GAME
The diners at the _Hotel Splendide_ were a little surprised to see thetall, distinguished-looking Englishman leave his seat and accost withquiet deference the elder of the two women, whose entrance a few minutesbefore had occasioned a good many not very flattering comments. The ladywho called herself Blanche meant to make the most of her opportunity.
"Fancy meeting you here," she remarked. "Flo, this is a friend ofmine. Mrs. Harrigod! Gentleman's name doesn't matter, does it?" sheadded, laughing.
Wrayson bowed, and murmured something inaudible. Blanche's friendregarded him with unconcealed and flattering approval.
"Over here for a little flutter, I suppose?" she remarked. "It is so hotin town we had to get away somewhere. Are you alone with your friends?"
"Quite alone," Wrayson answered. "We are only staying for a day or two."
The lady nodded.
"We shall stay for a week if we like it," she said. "If not, we shall goon to Dieppe. Did you get my letter?"
"Letter!" Wrayson repeated. "No! Have you written to me?"
She nodded.
"I wrote to you a week ago."
"I have been staying near here," Wrayson said, "and my letters have notbeen forwarded."
He bent a little lower over the table. The perfume of violet scent wasalmost unbearable, but he did not flinch.
"You had some news for me?" he asked eagerly.
"Yes!" she answered. "I'm not going to tell you now. We are going tosit outside after dinner. You must come to us there. No good havingsmart friends unless you make use of them," she added, with a shrilllittle laugh.
"I shall take some chairs and order coffee," Wrayson said. "In themeantime--?"
"If you like to order us a bottle of champagne and tell the waiter to putit on your bill, we shan't be offended," Blanche declared. "We were justwondering whether we could run to it."
"You must do me the honour of being my guests for dinner also,"Wrayson declared, calling a waiter. "It was very good of you toremember to write."
The friend murmured something about it being very kind of the gentleman.Blanche shrugged her shoulders.
"Oh! I remember right enough," she said. "It wasn't that. But there, waituntil I've told you about it. It's an odd story, and sometimes I wish I'dnever had anything to do with it. I get a cold shiver every time I thinkof that old man who took me to dine at Luigi's. Outside in three-quartersof an hour, then!"
"I will keep some chairs and order coffee," Wrayson said, turning away.
"And bring one of your friends," Blanche added. "It won't do him anyharm. We shan't bite him!"
"I will bring them both," Wrayson promised.
He went back to his own table and people watched him curiously.
"I believe," he said quietly, as he sat down, "that if there is a personin the world who can put us on the track of those letters, it is the ladywith whom I have just been talking."
The Baron looked across at the two women with new interest.
"What on earth have they got to do with it, Wrayson?" he asked.
"The fair one was a friend of Barnes'," Wrayson answered. "It was at herflat that he called the night he was murdered."
"You are sure," Duncan asked, "that the letters have not been found yetby the other side?"
"Quite sure," the Baron answered. "We have agents in Mexonia, evenabout the King's person, and we should hear in an hour if they hadthe letters."
"Presuming, then," Duncan said thoughtfully, "that Barnes was murderedfor the sake of these letters--and as he was murdered on the very nighthe was going to hand them over to the other side, I don't see what elsewe can suppose,--the crime would appear to have been committed by someone on our side."
"It certainly does seem so," the Baron admitted.
"And this man Bentham! He was the agent for--the King's people. He toowas murdered! Baron!"
"Well?"
"Who killed Barnes? He robbed me of my right, but I want to know."
The Baron shook his head.
"I have no idea," he said gravely. "We have agents in London, of course,but no one who would go to such lengths. I do not know who killedBarnes, nor do I know who killed Bentham."
There was a short silence. The Baron's words were impressively spoken.It was impossible to doubt their veracity. Yet both to Wrayson and toDuncan they had a serious import. The same thought was present in themind of all three of them--and each avoided the others' eyes. Wrayson,however, was not disposed to let the matter go without one moreeffort. The corners of his mouth tightened, and he looked the Baronsteadily in the face.
"Baron," he said, "I have told you that there is a man in London who hasset himself to solve the mystery of Barnes' death. The two people whom hewould naturally suspect are Miss Fitzmaurice and myself. There is strongpresumptive evidence against us, owing to my silence at the inquest, andat any moment we might either of us have to face this charge. Knowingthis, do I understand you to say that, if the necessity arose, you wouldbe absolutely unable to throw any light upon the matter?"
"Absolutely!" the Baron declared. "Both those murders are as complete anenigma to me as to you."
"You have agents in London?"
"Agents, yes!" the Baron declared, "but they are in the nature ofdetectives only. They would not dream of going to such lengths, eitherwith instructions or without them. Neither, I am sure, would any one whowas employed to collect evidence upon the other side."
There was no more to be said. Wrayson rose to his feet a little abruptly.
"The air is stifling here," he said. "Let us go outside and takeour coffee."
They found seats on the veranda, looking out upon the promenade. TheBaron looked a little dubiously at the stream of people passing backwardsand forwards.
"Are we not a little conspicuous?" he remarked.
"Does it really matter?" Wrayson asked. "It is only for this evening. Ishall leave for London tomorrow, in any event. Besides, it is part of thebargain that we take coffee with these ladies. Here they are."
Wrayson introduced his friends with perfect gravity. Chairs were found,and coffee and liqueurs ordered. Wrayson contrived to sit on the outside,and next to his copper-haired friend.
"Now for our little talk," he said. "Will you have a cigarette? You'llfind these all right."
She threw a sidelong glance at him and sighed. What an exceedinglyearnest young man this was!
"Well," she said, "I know you'll give me no peace till I've told you.There may be nothing in it. That's for you to find out. I think myselfthere is. It was last Thursday night in the promenade at the Alhambrathat I saw her!"
"Saw whom?" Wrayson interrupted.
"I'm coming to that," she declared. "Let me tell you my own way. I wastalking to a friend, and I overheard all that she said. She was quietlydressed, and she looked frightened; a poor, pale-faced little thing shewas anyway, and she was walking up and down like a stage-doll, peeringround corners and looking everywhere, as though she'd lost somebody.Presently she went up to one of the attendants, and I heard her ask himif he knew a Mr. Augustus Howard who came there often. The man shook hishead, and then she tried to describe him. It was a bit flattering, butan idea jumped into my head all of a sudden that it was Barnes she waslooking for."
"By Jove!" Wrayson muttered, under his breath. "Did you speak to her?"
She nodded.
"I waited till she was alone, and then I made her sit down with me anddescribe him all over again. By the time she'd finished, I was jolly wellsure that it was Barnes she was after."
"Did you tell her?" Wrayson asked.
"Not I!" she answered. "I didn't want a scene there, and besides, it'syour little show, not mine. I told her that I felt sure I recognized him,and that if she would be in the same place at nine o'clock a week fromthat night, I could send some one whom I thought would be able to tellher about her friend. That was last Thursday. You want to be just outsidethe refreshment-room at nine o'cloc
k to-morrow night, and you can'tmistake her. She looks as though she'd blown in from an A B C shop."
Wrayson possessed himself of her hand for a moment in an impulse ofapparent gallantry. Something which rustled pleasantly was instantly andsafely transferred to the metal purse which hung from her waistband.
"You will allow me?" he murmured.
"Rather," she answered, with a little laugh. "What a stroke of luck itwas meeting you here! Flo and I were both stony. We hadn't a sovereignbetween us when we'd paid for our tickets."
"Have you seen anything of Barnes' brother?" he asked.
"Once or twice at the Alhambra," she answered.
"He was wearing his brother's clothes, but he looked pretty dicky."
"You didn't mention this young woman to him, I suppose?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"Not I! You're the only person I've told. Hope it brings you luck."
Wrayson rose to his feet. The Baron and Duncan followed his example. Theytook leave of the ladies and turned towards the promenade.
"I'm going to London by the morning boat," Wrayson announced. "I believeI'm on the track of those letters."
They walked up and down for a few moments talking. As they passed thefront of the hotel, they heard a shrill peal of laughter. Blanche and herfriend were talking to a little group of men. The Baron smiled.
"We have broken the ice for them," he said, "but I am afraid that we arealready forgotten."