XI
THE COLD GREY DAWN
"Well?" snapped Iff irritably. "What're you staring at?"
"You," Staff replied calmly. "I was thinking--"
"About me? What?"
"Merely that you are apparently as much cut up as if the necklace wereyours--as if you were in danger of being robbed, instead of MissLandis--by way of Miss Searle."
"And I am!" asserted Iff vigorously. "I am, damn it! I'm in no danger oflosing any necklace; but if he gets away with the goods, that infernalscoundrel will manage some way to implicate me and rob me of my goodname and my liberty as well. Hell!" he exploded--"seems to me I'mentitled to be excited!"
Staff's unspoken comment was that this explanation of the little man'sagitation was something strained and inconclusive: unsatisfactory atbest. It was not apparent how (even assuming the historical Mr. Ismay tobe at that moment stealing the Cadogan collar from Miss Searle) thecrime could be fastened on Mr. Iff, in the face of the positive alibiStaff could furnish him. On the other hand, it was indubitable that Iffbelieved himself endangered in some mysterious way, or had some otherand still more secret cause for disquiet. For his uneasiness was somanifest, in such sharp contrast with his habitual, semi-cynical repose,that even he hadn't attempted to deny it.
With a shrug Staff turned back to the telephone and asked for themanager of the exchange, explained his predicament and was promisedthat, if the call could be traced back to the original station, heshould have the number. He was, however, counselled to be patient. Sucha search would take time, quite possibly and very probably.
He explained this to Iff, whose disgust was ill-disguised.
"And meanwhile," he expostulated, "we're sitting here with our hands inour laps--useless--and Ismay, as like 's not, is--" He broke intoprofanity, trotting up and down and twisting his small hands together.
"I wish," said Staff, "I knew what makes you act this way. Ismay can'tsaddle you with a crime committed by him when you're in my company--"
"You don't know him," interpolated Iff.
"And you surely can't be stirred so deeply by simple solicitude for MissSearle."
"Oh, can't I? And how do you know I can't?" barked the little man."Gwan--leave me alone! I want to think."
"Best wishes," Staff told him pleasantly. "I'm going to change myclothes."
"Symptoms of intelligence," grunted Iff. "I was wondering when you'dwake up to the incongruity of knight-erranting it after damsels indistress in an open-faced get-up like that."
"It's done, however," argued Staff good-humouredly. "It's class, if theillustrators are to be believed. Don't you ever read modern fiction? Inemergencies like these the hero always takes a cold bath and changes hisclothes before sallying forth to put a crimp in the villain's plans.Just the same as me. Only I'm going to shed evening dress instead of--"
"Good heavens, man!" snorted Iff. "Are you in training for amonologist's job? If so--if not--anyway--can it! Can the extemporaneousstuff!"
The telephone bell silenced whatever retort Staff may have contemplated.Both men jumped for the desk, but Staff got there first.
"Hello?" he cried, receiver at ear. "Yes? Hello?"
But instead of the masculine accents of the exchange-manager he heard,for the third time that night, the voice of Miss Searle.
"Yes," he replied almost breathlessly--"it is I, Miss Searle. ThankHeaven you called up! I've been worrying silly--"
"We were cut off," the girl's voice responded. He noted, subconsciously,that she was speaking slowly and carefully, as if with effort.... "Cutoff," she repeated as by rote, "and I had trouble getting you again."
"Then you're--you're all right?"
"Quite, thank you. I had an unpleasant experience trying to get to youby taxicab. The motor broke down coming through Central Park, and I hadto walk home and lost my way. But I am all right now--just tired out."
"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "It's too bad; I was quite ready to callfor the--you understand--and save you the trouble of the trip down here.But I'm glad you've had no more unpleasant adventure."
"The necklace is safe," the girl's voice told him with the same deadlyprecision of utterance.
"Oh, yes; I assumed that. And I may call for it?"
"If you please--today at noon. I am so tired I am afraid I shan't get upbefore noon."
"That'll be quite convenient to me, thank you," he assured her. "Butwhere are you stopping?"
There fell a brief pause. Then she said something indistinguishable.
"Yes?" he said. "Beg pardon--I didn't get that. A little louder please,Miss Searle."
"The St. Regis."
"Where?" he repeated in surprise.
"The St. Regis. I am here with Mrs. Ilkington--her guest. Good night,Mr. Staff."
"Good morning," he laughed; and at once the connection was severed.
"And that's all right!" he announced cheerfully, swinging round to faceIff. "She was in a taxicab accident and got lost in Central Park--justgot home, I infer. The necklace is safe and I'm to call and get it attwelve o'clock."
"Where's she stopping?" demanded Iff, shaking his little head as thoughimpatient. Staff named the hotel, and Iff fairly jumped. "Why that'simpossible!" he cried. "She can't afford it."
"How do you happen to know she can't?" enquired Staff, perplexed.
Momentarily Iff showed a face of confusion. "I know a lot of things," hegrumbled, evasively.
Staff waited a moment, then finding that the little man didn't purposemaking any more adequate or satisfactory explanation, observed: "Ithappens that she's Mrs. Ilkington's guest, and I fancy Mrs. Ilkingtoncan afford it--unless you know more about her, too, than I do."
Iff shook his head, dissatisfied. "All right," he said wearily. "Nowwhat're you going to do?"
"I'm going to try to snatch a few hours' sleep. There's no reason why Ishouldn't, now, with nothing to do before noon."
"Pleasant dreams," said Iff sourly, as Staff marched off to his bedroom.
Then he sat down on the edge of the divan, hugging the dressing-gownround him, scowled vindictively at nothing and began thoughtfully tognaw a bony knuckle.
In the other room, his host was undressing with surprising speed. Inspite of his nap, he was still tremendously tired; perhaps the reactioncaused by Eleanor's reassurance capping the climax of his excitement hadsomething to do with the sense of complete mental and physical fatiguethat swept over him the instant his back rested upon the bed. Withintwo minutes he was fast asleep.
But in the study Mr. Iff kept vigil, biting his knuckles what time hewas not depleting his host's stock of cigarettes.
Daylight broadened over the city. The sun rose. Not to be outdone, sodid Mr. Iff--moving quietly round the room, swearing beneath his breathas his conscience dictated, gradually accumulating more and more of thearticles of clothing which he had so disdainfully discarded some hoursearlier.
The telephone interrupted him somewhat after six o'clock. He answeredit, assuming Staff's identity for the moment. When the conversation hadclosed, he sat in reverie for some minutes, then consulted the telephonebook and called two numbers in quick succession. Immediately thereafterhe tiptoed into the bedroom, assured himself that Staff was fast asleepand proceeded calmly to rifle that gentleman's pockets, carefullyplacing what he found in an orderly array upon the bureau. In the end,bringing to light a plump bill-fold, he concluded his investigations.
The pigskin envelope contained a little less than four-hundred dollars,mostly in gold Treasury certificates. Mr. Iff helped himself generouslyand replaced the bill-fold. Then he returned to the study, found paperand pens and wrote Staff a little note, which he propped against themirror on the bedroom dresser. Finally, filling one of his pockets withcigarettes, he smiled blandly and let himself out of the apartment and,subsequently, of the house.
Staff slept on, sublimely unconscious, until the sun, slipping round tothe south, splashed his face with moulten gold: when he woke, fretfuland sweatful. He glanced at his watch and g
ot up promptly: the hourapproached eleven. Diving into a bathrobe, he turned the water on forhis bath, trotted to the front room and discovered the evasion of Mr.Iff. This, however, failed to surprise him. Iff was, after all, notbound to sit tight until Staff gave him leave to stir.
He rang for Mrs. Shultz and ordered breakfast. Then he bathed and beganto dress. It was during this latter ceremony that he found his pocketsturned inside out and their contents displayed upon his bureau.
This was a shock, especially when he failed to find his bill-fold at thefirst sweep. The bottom dropped out of the market for confidence in theintegrity of Mr. Iff and conceit in the perspicacity of Mr. Staff. Hesaw instantly how flimsy had been the tissue of falsehood wherewith the_soi-disant_ Mr. Iff had sought to cloak his duplicity, how egregiouslystupid had been his readiness to swallow that extraordinary yarn. Themore he considered, the more he marvelled. It surpassed belief--hisasininity did; at least _he_ wouldn't have believed he could be soeasily fooled. He felt like kicking himself--and longed unutterably fora chance to kick his erstwhile guest.
In the midst of this transport he found himself staring incredulously atthe envelope on the dresser. He snatched it up, tore it open and removedthree pieces of white paper. Two of them were crisp and tough andengraved on one side with jet-black ink. The third bore thiscommunication:
"MY DEAR MR. STAFF:--Your bill-fold's in your waistcoat pocket, where you left it last night. It contained $385 when I found it. It now contains $200. I leave you by way of security Bank of England notes to the extent of L40. There'll be a bit of change, one way or the other--I'm too hurried to calculate which.
"The exchange manager has just called up. The interrupted call has been traced back to the Hotel St. Simon in 79th Street, W. I have called the St. Regis; neither Miss Searle nor Mrs. Ilkington has registered there. I have also called the St. Simon; both ladies are there. Your hearing must be defective--or else Miss S. didn't know where she was at.
"I'm off to line my inwards with food and decorate my outwards with purple and fine underlinen. After which I purpose minding my own business for a few hours or days, as the circumstances may demand. But do not grieve--I shall return eftsoons or thereabouts.
"Yours in the interests of pure crime--
"WHIFF.
"P. S.--And of course neither of us had the sense to ask: If Miss S. was bound here from the St. Regis, how did her taxi manage to break down in Central Park?"
Prompt investigation revealed the truth of Mr. Iff's assertion: thebill-fold with its remaining two-hundred dollars was safely tucked awayin the waistcoat pocket. Furthermore, the two twenty-pound notes wereunquestionably genuine. The tide of Staff's faith in human nature beganagain to flood; the flower of his self-conceit flourished amazingly. Hesurmised that he wasn't such a bad little judge of mankind, after all.
He breakfasted with a famous appetite, untroubled by Iff's aspersion onhis sense of hearing, which was excellent; and he had certainly heardMiss Searle aright: she had named the St. Regis not once, but twice, andeach time with the clearest enunciation. He could only attribute themistake to her excitement and fatigue; people frequently make suchmistakes under unusual conditions; if Miss Searle had wished to deceivehim as to her whereabouts, she needed only to refrain from communicatingwith him at all. And anyway, he knew now where to find her and withinthe hour would have found her; and then everything would be cleared up.
He was mildly surprised at the sense of pleasant satisfaction with whichhe looked forward to meeting the girl again. He reminded himself not toforget to interview a manager or two in her interests.
Just to make assurance doubly sure, he telephoned the St. Simon whilewaiting for Shultz to fetch a taxicab. The switchboard operator at thatestablishment replied in the affirmative to his enquiry as to whether ornot Mrs. Ilkington and Miss Searle were registered there.
On the top of this he was called up by Alison.
"I'm just starting out--cab waiting," he told her at once--"to go toMiss Searle and get your--property."
"Oh, you are?" she returned in what he thought a singular tone.
"Yes; she called me up last night--said she'd discovered the mistake andthe--ah--property--asked me to call today at noon."
There was no necessity that he could see of detailing the whole longstory over a telephone wire.
"Well," said Alison after a little pause, "I don't want to interferewith your amusements, but ... I've something very particular to say toyou. I wish you'd stop here on your way uptown."
"Why, certainly," he agreed without hesitation or apprehension.
The actress had put up, in accordance with her custom, at a handsome,expensive and world-famous hotel in the immediate neighbourhood ofStaff's rooms. Consequently he found himself in her presence withinfifteen minutes from the end of their talk by telephone.
Dressed for the street and looking uncommonly handsome, she was waitingfor him in the sitting-room of her suite. As he entered, she cameforward and gave him a cool little hand and a greeting as cool. Hereceived both with an imperturbability founded (he discovered to hisgreat surprise) on solid indifference. It was hard to realise that he nolonger cared for her, or whether she were pleased or displeased withhim. But he didn't. He concluded, not without profound amazement, thathis passion for her which had burned so long and brightly had been nomore than sentimental incandescence. And he began to think himself avery devil of a fellow, who could toy with the love of women with suchcomplete insouciance, who could off with the old love before he hadfound a new and care not a rap!...
Throughout this self-analysis he was mouthing commonplaces--assuring herthat the day was fine, that he had never felt better, that she waslooking her charming best. Of a sudden his vision comprehended anarticle which adorned the centre-table; and words forsook him and hisjaw dropped.
It was _the_ bandbox: not that which he had left, with its cargo oftrash, in his rooms.
Alison followed his glance, elevated her brows, and indicated the boxwith a wave of her arm.
"And what d' you know about that?" she enquired bluntly.
"Where did it come from?" he counter-questioned, all agape.
"I'm asking you."
"But--I know nothing about it. Did Miss Searle send it--?"
"I can't say," replied the actress drily. "Your name on the tag has beenscratched out and mine, with this address, written above it."
Staff moved over to the table and while he was intently scrutinising thetag, Alison continued:
"It came by messenger about eight this morning; Jane brought it to mewhen I got up a little while ago."
"The hat was in it?" he asked.
She nodded impatiently: "Oh, of course--with the lining half ripped outand the necklace missing."
"Curious!" he murmured.
"Rather," she agreed. "What do you make of it?"
"This address isn't her writing," he said, deep in thought.
"Oh, so you're familiar with the lady's hand?" There was an accent inAlison's voice that told him, before he looked, that her lip was curlingand her eyes were hard.
"This is a man's writing," he said quietly, wondering if it could bepossible that Alison was jealous.
"Well?" she demanded. "What of it?"
"I don't know. Miss Searle got me on the telephone a little after onelast night; she said she'd found the necklace in the hat and wasbringing it to me."
"How did she know it was mine?"
"Heard you order it sent to me, in London. You'll remember my tellingyou she knew."
"Oh, yes. Go on."
"She didn't show up, but telephoned again some time round four o'clockexplaining that she had been in a taxicab accident in the Park and losther way but finally got home--that is, to her hotel, the St. Simon. Shesaid the necklace was safe--didn't mention the hat--and asked me to callfor it at noon today. I said I would, and I'm by way of being late
now.Doubtless she can explain how the hat came to you this way."
"I'll be interested to hear," said Alison, "and to know that thenecklace is really safe. On the face of it--as it stands--there'ssomething queer--wrong.... What are you going to do?"
Staff had moved toward the telephone. He paused, explaining that he wasabout to call up Miss Searle for reassurance. Alison negatived thisinstantly.
"Why waste time? If she has the thing, the quickest way to get it is togo to her now--at once. If she hasn't, the quickest way to get after itis via the same route. I'm all ready and if you are we'll goimmediately."
Staff bowed, displeased with her manner to the point of silence. He hadno objection to her being as temperamental as she pleased, but heobjected strongly to having it implied by everything except spoken wordsthat he was in some way responsible for the necklace and that EleanorSearle was quite capable of conspiring to steal it.
As for Alison, her humour was dangerously impregnated with theconsciousness that she had played the fool to such an extent that shestood in a fair way to lose her necklace. Inasmuch as she knew this tobe altogether her fault, whatever the outcome, she was in a mood toquarrel with the whole wide world; and she schooled herself to treatwith Staff on terms of toleration only by exercise of considerableself-command and because she was exacting a service of him.
So their ride uptown was marked by its atmosphere of distant anddispassionate civility. They spoke infrequently, and then on indifferenttopics soon suffered to languish. In due course, however, Staff masteredhis resentment and--as evidenced by his wry, secret smile--began to takea philosophic view of the situation, to extract some slight amusementfrom his insight into Alison's mental processes. Intuitively sensingthis, she grew even more exasperated with him--as well as with everybodyaside from her own impeccable self.
At the St. Simon, Staff soberly escorted the woman to the lounge,meaning to leave her there while he enquired for Eleanor at the office;but they had barely set foot in the apartment when their names wereshrieked at them in an excitable, shrill, feminine voice, and Mrs.Ilkington bore down upon them in full regalia of sensation.
"My dears!" she cried, regarding them affectionately--"such a surprise!Such a delightful surprise! And so good of you to come to see me sosoon! And opportune--I'm dying, positively expiring, for somebody togossip with. Such a singular thing has happened--"
Alison interrupted bluntly: "Where's Miss Searle? Mr. Staff is anxiousto see her."
"That's just it--_just_ what I want to talk about. You'd never guesswhat that girl has done--and after all the trouble and thought I'vetaken in her behalf, too! I'm disgusted, positively and finallydisgusted; never again will I interest myself in such people. I--"
"But where is Miss Searle?" demanded Alison, with a significant look toStaff.
"Gone!" announced Mrs. Ilkington impressively.
"Gone?" echoed Staff.
Mrs. Ilkington nodded vigorously, compressing her lips to a thin line ofdisapproval. "I'm positively at my wits' end to account for her."
"I fancy there's an explanation, however," Alison put in.
"I wish you'd tell me, then.... You see, we dined out, went to thetheatre and supper together, last night. The Struyvers asked me, and Imade them include her, of course. We got back about one. Of course, mydears, I was fearfully tired and didn't get up till half an hour ago.Imagine my sensation when I enquired for Miss Searle and was informedthat she paid her bill and left at five o'clock this _morning_, and with_a strange man!_"
"She left you a note, of course?" Staff suggested.
"Not a line--nothing! I might be the dirt beneath her feet, the wayshe's treated me. I'm thoroughly disillusioned--disgusted!"
"Pardon me," said Staff; "I'll have a word with the office."
He hurried away, leaving Mrs. Ilkington still volubly dilating on thatindignity that had been put upon her: Alison listening with an air ofinfinite detachment.
His enquiry was fruitless enough. The day-clerk, he was informed by thatpersonage, had not come on duty until eight o'clock; he knew nothing ofthe affair beyond what he had been told by the night-clerk--that MissSearle had called for her bill and paid it at five o'clock; had giveninstructions to have her luggage removed from her room and delivered onpresentation of her written order; and had then left the hotel incompany with a gentleman who registered as "I. Arbuthnot" at one o'clockin the morning, paying for his room in advance.
Staff, consumed with curiosity about this gentleman, was so persistentin his enquiry that he finally unearthed the bellboy who had shown thatguest to his room and who furnished what seemed to be a tolerablyaccurate sketch of him.
The man described was--Iff.
Discouraged and apprehensive, Staff returned to the lounge and made hisreport--one received by Alison with frigid disapproval, by Mrs.Ilkington with every symptom of cordial animation; from which it becameimmediately apparent that Alison had told the elder woman everything sheshould not have told her.
"'I. Arbuthnot,'" Alison translated: "Arbuthnot Ismay."
"Gracious!" Mrs. Ilkington squealed. "Isn't that the real name of thatodd creature who called himself Iff and pretended to be a Secret Serviceman?"
Staff nodded a glum assent.
"It's plain enough," Alison went on; "this Searle woman was in leaguewith him--"
"I disagree with you," said Staff.
"On what grounds?"
"I don't believe that Miss Searle--"
"On what grounds?"
He shrugged, acknowledging his inability to explain.
"And what will you do?" interrupted Mrs. Ilkington.
"I shall inform the police, of course," said Alison; "and the sooner thebetter."
"If I may venture so far," Staff said stiffly, "I advise you to donothing of the sort."
"And why not, if you please?"
"It's rather a delicate case," he said--"if you'll pause to consider it.You must not forget that you yourself broke the law when you contrivedto smuggle the necklace into this country. The minute you make thismatter public, you lay yourself open to arrest and prosecution forswindling the Government."
"Swindling!" Alison repeated with a flaming face.
Staff bowed, confirming the word. "It is a very serious charge thesedays," he said soberly. "I'd advise you to think twice before you makeany overt move."
"But if I deny attempting to smuggle the necklace? If I insist that itwas stolen from me aboard the Autocratic--stolen by this Mr. Ismay andthis Searle woman--?"
"Miss Searle did not steal your necklace. If she had intended anythingof the sort, she wouldn't have telephoned me about it last night."
"Nevertheless, she has gone away with it, arm-in-arm with a notoriousthief, hasn't she?"
"We're not yet positive what she has done. For my part, I am confidentshe will communicate with us and return the necklace with the leastpossible delay."
"Nevertheless, I shall set the police after her!" Alison insistedobstinately.
"Again I advise you--"
"But I shall deny the smuggling, base my charge on--"
"One moment," Staff interposed firmly. "You forget me. I'm afraid I canadduce considerable evidence to prove that you not only attempted tosmuggle, but as a matter of fact did."
"And you would do that--to me?" snapped the actress.
"I mean that Miss Searle shall have every chance to prove herinnocence," he returned in an even and unyielding voice.
"Why? What's your interest in her?"
"Simple justice," he said--and knew his answer to be evasive andunconvincing.
"As a matter of fact," said Alison, rising in her anger, "you've fallenin love with the girl!"
Staff held her gaze in silence.
"You're in love with her," insisted the actress--"in love with thiscommon thief and confidence-woman!"
Staff nodded gently. "Perhaps," said he, "you're right. I hadn't thoughtof it that way before.... But, if you doubt my motive in advising you togo slow, consult somebody else
--somebody you feel you can trust: Max,for instance, or your attorney. Meanwhile, I'd ask Mrs. Ilkington to bediscreet, if I were you."
Saluting them ceremoniously, he turned and left the hotel, deeplydejected, profoundly bewildered and ... wondering whether or not Alisonin her rage had uncovered a secret unsuspected even by himself, to whomit should have been most intimate.