CHAPTER XXIII
THE POSSIBLE DEATH WARRANT
"Quite a clear print, you see," repeated Mrs. Marlow brightly. "No spotthere. You must have been thinking of another."
"Aye, just so," replied Allerdyke absentmindedly. "Another, yes, ofcourse. Aye, to be sure--you're right. No spot on that, certainly."
He was talking aimlessly, confusedly, as he turned the print over in hishand, examining it back and front. And having no excuse for keeping it,he handed it back with a keen look at its owner. What the devil, he askedhimself, was this mysterious woman playing at?
"I'm going to have this mounted and framed," said Mrs. Marlow, as she putthe photograph back in her bag and turned to go. "I misplaced it sometime ago and couldn't lay hands on it, but I came across it by accidentthis morning, so now I'll take care of it."
She nodded, smiled, and went off into the sunlight outside, andAllerdyke, more puzzled than ever, walked forward into the hotel andtowards the restaurant. At its door he met Fullaway, coming out, and inhis usual hurry.
Fullaway started at sight of Allerdyke, button-holed him, and led himinto a corner.
"Oh, I say, Allerdyke!" he said, in his bustling fashion. "Look here, aword with you. You've no objection, have you?" he went on in subduedtones, "if Van Koon and I have a try for that reward? It doesn't matterto you, or to the Princess, or to Miss Lennard, who gets the reward solong as the criminals are brought to justice and the goods found--eh? Andyou know fifty thousand is--what it is."
"You've got an idea?" asked Allerdyke, regarding his questioner steadily.
"Frankly, yes--an idea--a notion," answered Fullaway. "Van Koon and Ihave been discussing the whole affair--just now. He's a smart man, andhas had experience in these things on the other side. But, of course, wedon't want to give our idea away. We want to work in entire independenceof the police, for instance. What we're thinking of requires patience anddeep investigation. So we want to work on our own methods. See?"
"It doesn't matter to me who gets the reward--as you say," said Allerdykeslowly. "I want justice. I'm not so much concerned about the jewels asabout who killed my cousin. I believe that man Lydenberg did the actualkilling--but who was at Lydenberg's back? Find that out, and--"
"Exactly--exactly!" broke in Fullaway. "The very thing! Well--youunderstand, Allerdyke. Van Koon and I will want to keep our operations toourselves. We don't want police interference. So, if any of theseScotland Yard chaps come to you here for talk or information, don't bringme into it. And don't expect me to tell what we're doing until we'vecarried out our investigations. No interim reports, you know, Allerdyke.Personally, I believe we're on the track."
"Do just what you please," replied Allerdyke. "You're not the only twowho are after that reward. Go ahead--your own way."
He turned into the restaurant and ordered his lunch, and while it wasbeing brought sat drumming his fingers on the table, staring vacantly atthe people about him and wondering over the events of the morning.Rayner's, or Ramsay's, vague hint that something might suddenly cleareverything up; Fullaway's announcement that he and Van Koon had put theirheads together; Mrs. Perrigo's story of the French maid and the young manwho led blue-ribboned pug-dogs--but all these were as nothing compared tothe fact that Mrs. Marlow had actually shown him the photograph which hehad until then firmly believed to lie hidden in the case of Lydenberg'swatch. That beat him.
"Is my blessed memory going wrong?" he said to himself. "Did I actuallyprint more than four copies of that thing! No--no!--I'm shot if I did.My memory never fails. I did not print off more than four. James hadthree; I had one. Mine's in my album upstairs. I know what James didwith his. Cousin Grace has one; Wilson Firth has another; he gave thethird to this Mrs. Marlow--and she's got it! Then--how the devil didthat photograph, which looks to be of my taking, which I'd swear is ofmy taking, come to be in Lydenberg's watch? Gad--it's enough to make aman's brain turn to pap!"
He was moodily finishing his lunch when Chettle came in to find him.Allerdyke, who was in a quiet corner, beckoned the detective to a seat,and offered him a drink.
"Well?" he asked. "What's been done?"
"It's all right," answered Chettle. "I've told no more than wasnecessary--just what we agreed upon. To tell you the truth, our folksdon't attach such tremendous importance to it--they will, of course, whenyou tell them your story about the photo. Just at present they merely seethe obvious fact--that Lydenberg was furnished with the photo as a meansof ready identification of your brother. No--at this moment they're fullof the Perrigo woman's story--they think that's a sure clue--a goodbeginning. Somebody, they say, must own, or have owned, those pugs!Therefore they're going strong on that. Meanwhile, I'm going back to Hullfor at any rate a few days."
"You've still got that watch on you?" asked Allerdyke.
"Certainly," answered Chettle, clapping his hand to his breast-pocket."Technically speaking, it's in charge of the Hull police--it'll have tobe produced there. Did you want to see it again, Mr. Allerdyke?"
"Finish your drink and come up to my sitting-room," said Allerdyke. "I'llgive you a cigar up there. Yes," he added, as they left the restaurantand went upstairs. "I do want to see it again--or, rather, thephotograph. You're in no hurry?"
"A good hour to spare yet," replied Chettle.
Allerdyke locked the door of the sitting-room when they were once insideit, and that done he placed a decanter, a syphon, and a glass on histable, and flanked them with a box of cigars. He waved a hospitable handtowards these comforts.
"Sit down and help yourself, Chettle," he said. "A drop of my whisky'lldo you no harm--that's some I got down from home, and you'll not find itslike everywhere. Light a cigar--and put a couple in your pocket to smokein the train. Now then, let's see that photograph once more."
Chettle handed over the watch, and Allerdyke, opening the case,delicately removed the print. He sat down at the table with his back tothe light, and carefully examined the thing back and front, while thedetective, glass in hand, cigar in lips, and thumb in the armhole of hiswaistcoat, watched him appreciatively and inquisitively.
"Make aught new out of it, sir?" he asked after a while.
Instead of answering, Allerdyke laid the photograph down, went across toanother table, and took from it his album. He turned its leaves overuntil he came to a few loose prints. He picked them up one after anotherand examined them. And suddenly he knew the secret. There was no longerany problem, any difficulty about that photograph. He knew--now! And witha sharp exclamation, he flung the album back to the side-table, andturned to the detective.
"Chettle!" he said. "You know me well enough to know that I can make itwell worth any man's while to keep a secret until I tell him he can speakabout it! What!"
"I should think so, Mr. Allerdyke," responded Chettle, readily enough."And if you want me to keep a secret--"
"I do--for the time being," answered Allerdyke. He sat down again andpicked up the photograph which had exercised his thoughts so intensely."I've found out the truth concerning this," he said, tapping it with hisfinger. "Yes, I've hit it! Listen, now--I told you I'd only made fourprints of this photo, and that I knew exactly where they all were--one inmy own album there, two given by James to friends in Bradford, one--as wemore recently found out--given by James to Mrs. Marlow. That one--theMrs. Marlow one--we believed to be--this--this!"
"And isn't it, Mr. Allerdyke?" asked Chettle wonderingly.
Allerdyke laughed--a laugh of relief and satisfaction.
"Less than an hour ago," he replied, "in fact, just before you came in,Mrs. Marlow showed me the photo which James gave her--showed it to me,out below there in the hall. No mistaking it! And so--when you came, Iwas racking my brains to rags trying to settle what thisphoto--this!--was. And now I know what it is--and damn me if I knowwhether the discovery makes things plainer or more mixed up! But--I knowwhat this is, anyway."
"And--what is it, sir?" asked Chettle eagerly, eyeing the photo as if itwere some fearful living curiosity. "What,
Mr. Allerdyke?"
"Why, it's a photograph of my photograph!" almost shouted Allerdyke, witha thump of his big hand on the table. "That's the truth. This has beenreproduced from mine, d'ye see? Look here--happen you don't know muchabout photography, but you'll follow me--I always use a certain sort ofprinting-out paper; I've stuck to one particular sort for years--all thephotos in that album are done on that particular sort. The four prints Imade of James's last photo were done on that paper. Now then--this photo,this print that you found in Lydenberg's watch, is not done on thatpaper--it's a totally different paper. Therefore--this is a reproduction!It is not my original print at all--it's been copied from it. See?"
Chettle, who had followed all this with concentrated attention, noddedhis head several times.
"Clever--clever--clever!" he said with undisguised admiration. "Clever,indeed! That's a smart bit of work, sir. I see--I understand! Bless mysoul! And what do you gather from that, Mr. Allerdyke?"
"This!" answered Allerdyke. "Just now, Mrs. Marlow said to me, speakingof her photo--the fourth print, you know--'I misplaced it some timeago,' she said, 'and couldn't lay hands on it, but I came across itaccidentally this morning.' Now then, Chettle, here's the thing--somebodytook that fourth print from Mrs. Marlow, reproduced it--and that--thatprint which you found in Lydenberg's watch is the reproduction!"
"So that," began Chettle suggestively, "so that--"
"So that the thing now is to find who it is that made the reproduction,"said Allerdyke. "When we've found him--or her--I reckon we shall havefound the man who's at the heart of all this. Leave that to me! Keep thisa dead secret until I tell you to speak--we shall have to tell all this,and a bonny sight more, to your bosses at headquarters--off you go toHull, and do what you have to do, and I'll get on with my work here. Isaid I didn't know whether this discovery makes things thicker orclearer, but, by George, it's a step forward anyway!"
Chettle put the reproduction back into the case of the watch and bestowedit safely in his pocket.
"One step forward's a good deal in a case like this, Mr. Allerdyke," hesaid. "What are you going to do about the next step, now?"
"Try to find out who made that reproduction," replied Allerdyke bluntly."No easy job, either! The ground's continually shifting and changingunder one's very feet. But I don't mind telling you my presenttheory--somebody's got information of that jewel deal from Fullaway'soffice, somebody who had access to his papers, somebody who managed tosteal that photo of mine from Mrs. Marlow for a few days or until theycould reproduce it. What I want to find now is--an idea of that somebody.And--I'll get it!--I'll move heaven and earth to get it! But--othermatters. You say your folks at the Yard are going to follow up thatPerrigo woman's clue? They think it important, then?"
"In the case of the Frenchwoman, yes," answered Chettle. He thrust hishand into a side-pocket and brought out a crumpled paper. "Here's a proofof the bill they're getting out," he said. "They set to work on that assoon as they'd got the information. That'll be up outside everypolice-station in a few hours, and it's gone out to the Press, too."
Allerdyke took the proof, still damp from the machine, and looked itover. It asked, in the usual formal language, for any information about ayoung man, dark, presumably a foreigner, who, about the middle of March,was in the habit of taking two pug dogs, generally bedecked with blueribbons, into Kensington Gardens.
"There ought to be some response to that, you know, Mr. Allerdyke,"remarked Chettle. "Somebody must remember and know something about thatyoung fellow. But, upon my soul, as I said to Blindway just now, I don'tknow whether that bill's a mere advertisement or a--death warrant!"
"Death warrant!" exclaimed Allerdyke. "What d'you mean?"
Chettle chuckled knowingly.
"Mean," he said. "Why, this--if that young fellow who led pugs about, andtalked to Mamselle Lisette in Kensington Gardens, is another of the cat'spaws that this gang evidently made use of, I should say that when thegang sees he's being searched for, they'll out him, just as they outedher and Lydenberg. That's what I mean, Mr. Allerdyke--they'll do him inthemselves before anybody else can get at him! See?"
Allerdyke saw. And when the detective had gone, he threw himself into achair, lighted one of his strongest cigars, drew pen, ink, and paper tohim, and began to work at his problem with a grim determination to evolveat any rate a clear theory of its possible solution.