CHAPTER III
THE SHOE BUCKLE
Once outside the death-chamber, Allerdyke asked the manager to give him abedroom with a sitting-room attached to it, and to put Gaffney in anotherroom close by--he should be obliged, he said, to stay at the hotel untilthe inquest was over and arrangements had been made for his cousin'sfuneral. The manager at once took him to a suite of three rooms at theend of the corridor which they were then in. Allerdyke took it at once,sent Gaffney down to bring up certain things from the car, and detainedthe manager for a moment's conversation.
"I suppose you'd a fair lot of people come in last night from thatChristiania boat?" he asked.
"Some fifteen or twenty," answered the manager.
"Did you happen to see my cousin in conversation with any of them?"inquired Allerdyke.
The manager shrugged his shoulders. He was not definitely sure aboutthat; he had a notion that he had seen Mr. James Allerdyke talking withsome of the _Perisco_ passengers, but the notion was vague.
"You know how it is," he went on. "People come in--they stand abouttalking in the hall--groups, you know--they go from one to another. Ithink I saw him talking to that doctor who's in there now with Dr.Orwin--the man with the big beard--and to a lady who came at the sametime. There were several ladies in the party--the passengers were allabout in the hall, and in the coffee-room, and so on. There are a lot ofother people in the house, too, of course."
"It's this way," said Allerdyke. "I'm not at all satisfied about whatthese doctors say, so far. They may be right, of course--probably are.Still I want to know all I can, and, naturally, I'd like to know who thepeople were that my cousin was last in company with. You never know whatmay have happened--there's often something that doesn't show at first."
"There was--nothing missing in his room, I hope?" asked the manager withprofessional anxiety.
"Nothing that I know of," answered Allerdyke. "My man and I have searchedhim, and taken possession of everything--all that he had on him is inthat bag, and I'm going to examine it now. No--I don't think anything hadbeen taken from him, judging by what I've seen."
"You wouldn't like me to send for the police?" suggested the manager.
"Not at present," replied Allerdyke. "Not, at any rate, until thesedoctors say something more definite--they'll know more presently,no doubt. Of course, you've a list of all the people who came inlast night?"
"They would all register," answered the manager. "But then, youknow, sir, many of them will be going this morning--most of them areonly breaking their journey. You can look over the register wheneveryou like."
"Later on," said Allerdyke. "In the meantime, I'll examine these things.Send me up some coffee as soon as your people are stirring."
He unlocked the hand-bag when the manager had left him. It seemed to hispractical and methodical mind that his first duty was to make himselfthoroughly acquainted with the various personal effects which he andGaffney had found on the dead man. Of the valuables he took littlenotice; it was very evident, in his opinion, that if James Allerdyke'sdeath had been brought about by some sort of foul play--a suspicion whichhad instantly crossed his mind as soon as he discovered that his cousinwas dead--the object of his destroyer had not been robbery. James hadalways been accustomed to carrying a considerable sum of money on him;Gaffney's search had brought a considerable sum to light. James also worea very valuable watch and chain and two fine diamond rings; there theyall were. Not robbery--no; at least, not robbery of the ordinary sort.But--had there been robbery of another, a bigger, a subtle, anddeep-designed sort? James was a man of many affairs and schemes--he mighthave had valuable securities, papers relating to designs, paperscontaining secrets of great moment; he was interested, for example, inseveral patents--he might have had documents pertinent to some affair ofsuch importance that ill-disposed folk, eager to seize them, might havemurdered him in order to gain possession of them. There were manypossibilities, and there was always--to Allerdyke's mind--theimprobability that James had died through sudden illness.
Now that Marshall Allerdyke's mind was clearing, getting free of thefirst effects of the sudden shock of finding his cousin dead, doubt anduneasiness as to the whole episode were rising strongly within him. Heand James had been brought up together; they had never been apart fromeach other for more than a few months at a time during thirty-five years,and he flattered himself that he knew James as well as any man of James'sacquaintance. He could not remember that his cousin had ever made anycomplaint of illness or indisposition; he had certainly never had anyserious sickness in his life. As to heart trouble, Allerdyke knew that afew years previous to his death, James had taken out a life-policy with afirst-rate office, and had been passed as a first-class life: heremembered, as he sat there thinking over these things, theself-satisfied grin with which James had come and told him that theexamining doctor had declared him to be as sound as a bell. It was true,of course, that disease might have set in after that--still, it was onlysix weeks since he had seen James and James was then looking in a fit,healthy, hearty state. He had gone off on one of his Russian journeys asfull of life and spirits as a man could be--and had not the hotelmanager just said that he seemed full of health, full of go, at teno'clock last night? And yet, within a couple of hours or so--according towhat the medical men thought from their hurried examination--this activevigorous man was dead--swiftly and mysteriously dead.
Allerdyke felt--felt intensely--that there was something deeply strangein all this, and yet it was beyond him, with his limited knowledge, toaccount for James's sudden death, except on the hypothesis suggested bythe two doctors. All sorts of vague, half-formed thoughts were in hismind. Was there any person who desired James's death? Had any one trackedhim to this place--got rid of him by some subtle means? Had--
"Pshaw!" he muttered, suddenly interrupting his train of thought, andrecognizing how shapeless and futile it all was. "It just comes tothis--I'm asking myself if the poor lad was murdered! And what have I togo on? Naught--naught at all!"
Nevertheless, there were papers before him which had been taken fromJames's pocket; there was the little journal or diary which he alwayscarried, and in which, to Allerdyke's knowledge, he always jotted downa brief note of each day's proceedings wherever he went. He couldexamine these, at any rate--they might cast some light on his cousin'srecent doings.
He began with the diary, turning over its pages until he came to the dateon which James had left Bradford for St. Petersburg. That was on March30th. He had travelled to the Russian capital overland--by way of Berlinand Vilna, at each of which places he had evidently broken his journey.From St. Petersburg he had gone on to Moscow, where he had spent thebetter part of a week. All his movements were clearly set out in thebrief pencilled entries in the journal. From Moscow he had returned toSt. Petersburg; there he had stayed a fortnight; thence he had journeyedto Revel, from Revel he had crossed the Baltic to Stockholm; fromStockholm he had gone across country to Christiania. And from Christianiahe had sailed for Hull to meet his death in that adjacent room where thedoctors were now busied with his body.
Marshall Allerdyke, though he had no actual monetary connection withthem, had always possessed a fairly accurate knowledge of his cousin'sbusiness affairs--James was the sort of man who talked freely to hisintimates about his doings. Therefore Allerdyke was able to make out fromthe journal what James had done during his stay at St. Petersburg, inMoscow, in Revel, and in Stockholm, in all of which places he had ironsof one sort or another in the fire. He recognized the names of variousfirms upon which James had called--these names were as familiar to him asthose of the big manufacturing concerns in his own town. James had beento see this man, this man had been to see James. He had dined with suchan one; such an one had dined with him. Ordinarily innocent entries, allthese; there was no subtle significance to be attached to any of them:they were just the sort of entries which the busy commercial man, engagedin operations of some magnitude, would make for his own convenience.
There was,
in short, nothing in that tiny book--a mere,waistcoat-pocket sort of affair--which Allerdyke was at a loss tounderstand, or which excited any wonder or speculation in him: with oneexception. That exception was in three entries: brief, bald, merelines, all made during James's second stay--the fortnight period--inSt. Petersburg. They were:--
April 18: Met Princess.
April 20: Lunched with Princess.
April 23: Princess dined with me.
These entries puzzled Allerdyke. His cousin had been going over to Russiaat least twice a year for three years, but he had never heard him mentionthat he had formed the acquaintance of any person of princely rank. Whowas this Princess with whom James had evidently become on such friendlyterms that they had lunched and dined together? James had twice writtento him during his absence--he had both letters in his pocket then, andone of them was dated from St. Petersburg on April 24th, but there was nomention of any Princess in either. Seeking for an explanation, he came tothe conclusion that James, who had a slight weakness for the society ofladies connected with the stage, had made the acquaintance of someactress or other, ballet-dancer, singer, artiste, and had given her thenickname of Princess.
That was all there was to be got from the diary. It amounted tonothing. There were, however, the loose papers. He began to examinethese methodically. They were few in number--James was the sort of manwho never keeps anything which can be destroyed: Allerdyke knew fromexperience that he had a horror of accumulating what he called rubbish.These papers, fastened together with a band of india-rubber, were allbusiness documents, with one exception--a letter from Allerdyke himselfaddressed to Stockholm, to wait James's arrival. There were somespecifications relating to building property; there was a schedule ofthe timber then standing in a certain pine forest in Sweden in whichJames had a valuable share; there was a balance-sheet of a Moscowtrading concern in which he had invested money; there were odds and endsof a similar nature--all financial. From these papers Allerdyke couldonly select one which he did not understand, which conveyed no meaningto him. This was a telegram, dispatched from London on April 21st, ateleven o'clock in the morning. He spread it out on the table and slowlyread it:--
"To _James Allerdyke_, _Hotel Grand Monarch_, _St. Petersburg_.
"Your wire received. If Princess will confide goods to your care topersonally bring over here have no doubt matter can be speedily andsatisfactorily arranged. Have important client now in town until middleMay who seems to be best man to approach and is likely to be a generousbuyer.
"FRANKLIN FULLAWAY, Waldorf Hotel, London."
Here was another surprise: Allerdyke had never in his life heard Jamesmention the name--Franklin Fullaway. Yet here Mr. Franklin Fullaway,whoever he might be, was wiring to James as only a business acquaintanceof some standing would wire. And here again was the mention of aPrincess--presumably, nay, evidently, the Princess to whom reference wasmade in the diary. And there was mention, too, of goods--probablyvaluable goods--to be confided to James's care for conveyance toEngland, to London, for sale to some prospective purchaser. If James hadbrought them, where were they? So far as Allerdyke had ascertained,James had no luggage beyond his big suitcase and the handbag which nowstood on the table before his own eyes--he was a man for travellinglight, James, and never encumbered himself with more than indispensablenecessities. Where, then--
A tap at the door of the sitting-room prefaced the entry of the twomedical men.
"We heard from the manager that you were in this room, Mr. Allerdyke,"said Dr. Orwin. "Well, we made a further examination of your relative,and we still incline to the opinion expressed already. Now, if youapprove it, I will arrange at once for communicating with the Coroner,removing the body, and having an autopsy performed. As Dr. Lydenberg hasbusiness in the town which will keep him here a few days, he will joinme, and it will be more satisfactory to you, no doubt, if another doctoris called--I should advise the professional police surgeon. If you willleave it to me--"
"I'll leave everything of that sort to you, doctor," said Allerdyke. "I'mmuch obliged to both of you, gentlemen. You understand what I'm anxiousabout?--I want to be certain--certain, mind you!--of the cause of mycousin's death. Now you speak of removing him? Then I'll just go and takea look at him before that's done."
He presently locked up his rooms, leaving the hand-bag there, alsolocked, and went alone to the room in which James lay dead. Most folkswho knew Marshall Allerdyke considered him a hard, unsentimental man,but there were tears in his eyes as he stooped over his cousin's body andlaid his hand on the cold forehead. Once more he broke into familiar,muttered speech.
"If there's been aught wrong, lad," he said. "Aught foul or underhand,I'll right thee!--by God, I will!"
Then he stooped lower and kissed the dead man's cheek, and pressed thestill hands. It was with an effort that he turned away and regained hisself-command--and it was in that moment that his eyes, slightly blurredas they were, caught sight of an object which lay half-concealed by acorner of the hearth-rug--a glittering, shining object, which threw backthe gleam of the still burning electric light. He strode across the roomand picked it up--the gold buckle of a woman's shoe, studded with real,if tiny, diamonds.