CHAPTER XXIII
The spiritual glow in which Alan left Earl's Gate had cooled considerablyby the time he reached the Midland Hotel. It was not that he actuallyregretted his actions of an hour ago; rather was it as though an inwardvoice kept repeating, "Why aren't you happier, now that you have lifted acrushing load from an exhausted fellow-creature? Why aren't you in theseventh heaven since you are going to marry that most desirable girl?"There was never yet human exaltation without its reaction, but in Alan'scase the latter had followed cruelly fast.
In the smoke-room, almost empty at so early an hour, he dropped into achair and lit a cigarette. "What the deuce is wrong with me?" By the timethe cigarette was finished he could, with a little more courage, haveanswered the question. For he could not deny that his thoughts had gonestraying, not back to the brightly lighted drawing-room and the beautifulhostess, but to a dark garden and a terrified girl with a little revolverin her hand. Ordering himself not to be a cad as well as a fool, heremoved to one of the writing-tables. There he set himself to compose anicely worded note of invitation to Mrs. Lancaster. After that was donehe drew a couple of cheques for the same amount and wrote the followingletter to Mr. Bullard:
"Dear Mr. Bullard:
"You will no doubt be surprised to see my writing again, and I take thisway of announcing my return home lest you should hear of it before I canfind time to call upon you, which, however, I hope to do before long.To-night, on my arrival here, I called upon Mr. Lancaster, and was sorryto learn that he was too ill to receive me. But I do not wish to delay anhour longer than necessary the settlement of my debt to you both, and soI ask you kindly to receive on his behalf and your own, the enclosed twocheques in payment of the amounts of, and interests on, the advanceswhich you and he so generously made to me in April of last year. Idaresay you have almost forgotten the incident which meant so much to me,and still does. Until we meet,
"Faithfully yours,
"Alan Craig."
"A bit stiff and formal," was his comment after rereading it severaltimes, "but I don't think it gives much away."
The two hours that followed were perhaps the dreariest he had ever spentin civilised circumstances. London had given him enough to think about inall conscience, but his mind would not be controlled; as surely as adisturbed compass needle it kept moving back to the north.
Teddy's arrival, half an hour after midnight, he hailed as a greatrelief. Teddy wore a tired and soiled aspect, but his eyes glinted withrepressed excitement.
"Let's go up to my room, Alan," he said at once; "I've got something toshew you."
The moment they were there, with the door bolted, Teddy's fingers went tohis waistcoat pocket.
"Recognise it?" he asked, holding up an inch of fine gold chain bearing asmall nugget.
"No I don't. Stay! it's not unfamiliar--but no; I can't place it.Whose is it?"
"Bullard's."
"Oh! Where did you pick it up, Teddy?"
Teddy sat down on the edge of the bed. In a voice not wholly undercontrol he replied--
"I took it from the hand of a dead man, a couple of hours ago."
"A dead man! Good--"
"He seemed to fall out of the fog, but it was actually from the window ofBullard's office, in New Broad Street. I was watching from the other sideof the street when he fell. I--I was the first person to reach him. Hewas quite dead--awfully smashed, poor chap. There was a lamp near. One ofhis fists was slightly open. I noticed a glitter in it. It was thisthing. I took it.--I must have a smoke."
"Better ring for something to drink."
"No. I want all my wits to make a clear story of it. Look here, Alan! Thelong and short of it is: Bullard committed murder to-night--"
"Oh, I say!"
Teddy ignored the interruption. "Of course I went with the crowd to thepolice station, and, though not as a witness, managed to get in. Bullardwith an inspector turned up before long, but I kept out of his way. Hehad called the police himself. The man, he stated, had been trying thewindow of his private room while he was in another part of the premises;on entering his private room and switching on the lights, he had caughta glimpse of a face and hands falling backwards. That was all a lie. Thelights had been out for some time when the man fell. The fog washorribly thick, but I can be sure of that much. And then--this!" hedangled the nugget.
Alan broke the silence. "It looks bad, certainly, but still, youknow, Bullard might not--and quite naturally, too--have liked toadmit that after a struggle he pushed the man from the window--ifthat's what you mean."
"No, that's not what I mean. About twenty minutes earlier, I saw the manenter Bullard's office by the usual way--"
"Ah!"
"And note this, Alan! At the police station, I saw his fingers go to thenugget--he has a habit of playing with the thing when he is talking--andwhen he realised that it wasn't there, I thought he was going to faint.He soon pulled himself together, but--"
"The police didn't suspect him, did they?"
"Bless you, no! They were all sympathy! Oh, he's safe enough--for thepresent. The poor chap he murdered was certainly rough looking enough tobe a burglar."
"What was he like?"
"A big strong man, with an ugly red-bearded face, and--it's queer how onenotices trifles--his ears were pierced for--"
"Good Heavens, it was Flitch!"
Teddy jumped. "The man who shot you--"
"The same--I'm sure of it, even from your slight description. And--andBullard has killed him!"
"Your revenge, Alan."
"No, no, old man, I never wanted his life. It was only his employer Iwas after."
"You've got his employer now--if you want him."
Alan stared at his friend. "Why do you say _if I want him_? Don't youimagine I want him?"--he cried--"not for anything he may have done ortried to do to me, but for what might have happened had Mar--MissHandyside opened that infernal Green Box--"
"The telegram may have been a hoax. The box may or may not contain aninfernal contrivance, but even if it does, you can't convict Bullard anymore than you can arrest the soul of the man who is dead."
"I don't understand you," said Alan. "Tell me why you used those words,'if I want him,' meaning Bullard."
"Simply because," answered Teddy, "I'm pretty sure you don't want him.Think a moment!"
The other sprang to his feet. "Come along, Teddy! There's no thoughtrequired. That nugget has got to be handed to the police before we're anhour older."
Teddy rose slowly and slipped the nugget into his pocket. "Alan, my son,"he said gently, "that nugget does not leave my possession--no, not forall your uncle's genuine diamonds. Think again!"
"Oh, rot! If you're afraid of the police, Teddy--"
"Perhaps I am--"
"Well, give the thing to me, and I'll--"
"One moment." Teddy's face went ruddy. "I'd like you to answer aquestion, though it may strike you as abominably impertinent. Areyou--are you as fond as ever of Doris Lancaster?"
Alan was also flushed as he replied: "Doris and I settled that to-night,Teddy. But what has it to do with Bullard's nugget? I'm aware it hassomething to do with Bullard--"
"Hold on!" said Teddy, pale again. "I think I can put it so plainly thatyou'll wonder why you didn't see it for yourself right away. Listen! Putthis nugget into police hands, and Bullard goes into the dock. If Bullardgoes into the dock, ugly things, not all connected with this murder, willsurely come out. Lancaster will be involved; Doris--"
Alan threw up a hand. "God forgive me, Teddy," he cried, "and thank Godit wasn't I who found the nugget!"
* * * * *
"Besides," said Teddy a good deal later, "your Uncle Christopher was mostdesirous that nothing should happen to Bullard before the clock stopped.And now, old chap, I think we had better turn in."
Left to himself, Teddy sighed. "He's going to marry Doris, and, whetherhe knows it or not, he's in love with that Handyside girl. Surely I havethe devil's own luck!"