It was nearly eleven o'clock before Bates reached Seymour's rooms. He listened patiently to all that the latter had to say, and he chuckled grimly when Seymour's plot was laid before him.
"Upon my word, sir, you ought to have been in the force yourself," he exclaimed. "I never heard a neater scheme. I have been puzzling my brains the last day or two for some way of getting hold of Anstruther. I can nobble Carrington at any moment; in fact, I have a warrant for his arrest in my pocket now. You see, I can easily prove that he has been disposing of his clients' securities, but that hardly affects Anstruther. I suppose you want me to go round to the Great Metropolitan Hotel, and compel 'Simple Charlie' to act as bonnet for us. I have not the slightest doubt that he will be able to find a good substitute if he likes. But there is one little difficulty in the way which you have not thought of."
"Oh, yes, I have," Seymour replied. "I know perfectly well what you mean. You mean that even a burglar has some code of honor, and that he would hesitate to betray a pal into such a trap as this. But if the substitute that I have in my mind is acceptable to you, there is no reason for further anxiety."
Seymour scribbled a name on a sheet of paper, and handed it across to Bates. The latter laughed as he read it.
"Oh, most assuredly you ought to have been in the force," he said. "The thing is so clever, and yet so delightfully simple."
Meanwhile, Masefield was carrying out his side of the programme.
He saw Rigby once or twice during the day, and the latter informed him that everything was going splendidly. "I was at the Great Metropolitan Hotel this morning," he explained; "in fact, I was present at the interview between Bates and a man known as 'Simple Charlie.' We had not the slightest difficulty in getting that rascal to do everything that we wish. He seemed ready to do anything to save his own skin. As I told you just now, the old address mentioned in Anstruther's letter was Panton Square. By ten o'clock this morning Anstruther had received a letter, in 'Simple Charlie's' handwriting, saying that it was quite impossible for him to come himself, but that he would send an efficient substitute, who would meet Anstruther at the Mansion House Station at the appointed time. All you have to do now is to invite yourself to dinner at Panton Square, and in the course of the evening you will be pretty sure to hear the music going on in the study as usual. Of course, Anstruther will not be there, but that will make no difference to the harmonic programme. And mind you listen carefully for the original piece of music you heard last night."
"How are you going to manage that?" Jack asked.
"Well, you see, we have divided ourselves up into three companies," Rigby explained. "You are going to look after Panton Square, Bates and Seymour will engineer the campaign as far as the City and Provincial Bank is concerned, and I am going to have supper with Padini. He elected that the supper should take place in his own room at the hotel. You can guess why."
Jack began to see matters more clearly now. The task allotted to himself was plain and simple. He would have preferred something more in the way of adventure; but, after all, somebody must do the ordinary work. He managed to see Anstruther in the afternoon, and intimated to him that he was dining in Panton Square that night. Anstruther replied that he was glad to hear it; possibly, Jack thought, because there would be an ear-witness to prove the music in the study.
It was nearly eight o'clock when Jack strolled into the drawing-room of Panton Square, and found Claire alone there. He deemed it prudent not to tell her too much of what had taken place the last few hours; indeed, he was more concerned to hear the latest information about Serena.
"I have not seen much of her to-day," Claire said. "I do not know what to make of her at all. Last night late she came into my bedroom, and we had a long talk about her boy. It is a very strange thing, Jack, that only this morning a man arrived to see my guardian--a man who seemed to be annoyed at Mr. Anstruther's refusal to pay him a sum of money. I happened to overhear a few words as they parted. The stranger declared that if he did not have something definite by Saturday, 'he would send the kid back.' I should have thought nothing of this unless I had heard Serena's story last night, but, taken in conjunction with what she said, I shouldn't wonder if the man in question had not the custody of the poor woman's child."
"This is interesting," Jack said. "Did you take any particular note of the man's appearance?"
Claire replied that she had not failed to do so. But she had not followed him, though her suspicions were aroused. Jack debated the thing in his mind for a moment before he spoke again.
"We know perfectly well," he said, "that Anstruther is terribly pressed for ready money. He is certain not to send that check, and it is equally certain that the man will call again for the cash on Saturday morning. It will be an easy matter to get Bates to lend me a plain clothes man and follow the fellow wherever he goes. But you must understand----"
What more Jack would have said was prevented by the entrance of Anstruther, closely followed by the announcement of dinner. It was not a gay meal, for the host was moody and depressed. He talked brilliantly at times, then lapsed into a reverie, and appeared not to hear when spoken to. Claire rose presently with a sigh of relief, glad to get away from the gloom of the dining-room and its depressing atmosphere. Anstruther smoked half a cigarette, and then threw the end down impatiently.
"I must really get you to excuse me," he said. "But my head is so bad that I can hardly hold it up. I am afraid that even my music will fail to soothe me to-night."
Jack murmured something in the way of polite sympathy. He was glad of the opportunity to be able to escape to the drawing-room, where he sat for a long time discussing the situation with Claire. It was pleasant and soothing to sit there with his arm about her and her head lovingly upon his shoulder; but, happy as they were, they could not altogether shake off the feeling of impending evil. All this time the music of the violin floated mournfully from the study. Eleven o'clock struck, and still the melody went on. Claire roused herself a little presently, and a look of pleased interest crossed her pretty face.
"What a delightful little composition," she said . "I have never heard that before. I am quite sure that is original."
"Listen very carefully," Jack said. "I want you to impress that piece of music on your mind."
The piece was finished at length, and then repeated once more. As the last strains died away, Claire rose from her comfortable seat and crossed over to the piano. Very quietly, yet quite correctly, she went through the whole composition.
"I am glad it has so impressed you," Jack said. "You will, perhaps, be surprised to hear that Anstruther has never heard that piece of music in his life, and that it was composed by Padini, who has never played it to anybody till last night, when he performed it for Rigby's benefit. Not only this, but he gave Dick Rigby the original manuscript to get published for him. I know this is only a small matter, but these small matters will make a mountain of evidence against Anstruther when the time comes."
"It is very extraordinary," Claire murmured, "to think that that music should sound so charming and natural, when we know that all the time the player is a mile or two away. You are sure that my guardian is not in his study, Jack?"
Jack was sure enough on that point. It was a few moments later that Serena came quietly into the room with a request that Mr. Masefield would go to the telephone, as some one desired to speak to him on pressing business. Jack rose with alacrity.
"I shall soon be able to prove to you that Anstruther is a long way off, or I am very much mistaken," he said. "Very well, Serena, I will come down at once."
The voice at the other end of the telephone inquired cautiously if that were Mr. Masefield. Jack replied that it was, but even then the questioner did not appear to be satisfied.
"I think I recognize your voice," he said, "but one has to be very careful in sending messages to Panton Square. How goes the music? Anything original to-night?"
"One piece," Jack smiled. "I know what you mean, and I don't mind making you a small bet that you are Inspector Bates."
The voice at the other end of the telephone chuckled.
"You have got it quite right, Mr. Masefield," he said. "I am Bates sure enough. And you needn't worry about going down-stairs to see whether or not Anstruther is playing at Paganini, because he isn't on the premises at all."
"Where are you speaking from?" Jack asked.
Bates replied that he was speaking from a public call office in the neighborhood of Mansion House Station. All he wanted to do was to make sure that Jack was still in Panton Square, and now that his mind was easy on this score, he could devote himself to the serious business of the evening. Anstruther had just been shadowed outside the Mansion House Station, where he was apparently waiting for the substitute so kindly provided for him by "Simple Charlie."
The message ceased here, and the connection was cut off. Jack would have been just a little surprised if he had seen the transmogrified Bates who had been speaking to him over the line. The inspector crossed the road and disappeared into the shadow. Anstruther stood there, glancing impatiently up and down the road as if waiting for somebody that was late. A figure slouched up to him, and a hoarse voice whispered in his ear:
"Party of the name of Maggs," he said in his gin and fog voice. "Pal of 'Simple Charlie.' Old Charlie couldn't get away to-night, so he sent me instead. Don't you be disappointed, guv' nor; you will find me just as clever with them bits of steel as Charles himself. Bit of burglary, ain't it?"
Anstruther nodded curtly.
"We had better walk along," he said. "I suppose your friend explained to you that this little job will put twenty pounds in your pocket? It is a mere matter of opening a safe. The getting into the premises is perfectly simple, because I have come provided with the keys. You know the City and Provincial Bank?"
The other man grinned, and remarked that banks generally were a bit above his form. Anstruther smiled as he reflected that he had the keys of the bank premises proper in his pocket, so that there would be no great difficulty in getting into the counting house, and from there to Carrington's private office. As to the night watchmen--that was another matter altogether. In the face of recent happenings, they would be more alert than they had been in the past; but, at the same time, their attention would be bestowed more upon the cellars than the office.
The road was entirely deserted now, as Anstruther crossed the street and gently turned the key in the outer door. A moment later, and the pair were in Carrington's private office. They could afford to turn the lights up, for the iron shutters outside made a perfect screen. In one corner of the room stood the safe upon which the man who called himself Maggs was intended to operate. Anstruther pointed at it impatiently.
"Get to work at once," he said. "There is something inside that I must take away to-night."
"A fine set of Cellini plate, I presume?" Maggs said, in an entirely different voice. "No, you don't, Mr. Anstruther. If you put your hand in your hip pocket, I'll blow your brains out. I have the advantage of you here, and I am going to keep it."
"Who the deuce are you?" Anstruther stammered. His hands had fallen to his side, and his face was pale and ghastly. "Who are you?"
The so-called burglar snatched away his wig and ragged beard, and with a handkerchief changed the aspect of his face.
"I am Inspector Bates," he said. "Very much at your service."
Bates had laid his plans very carefully and very well indeed. In many respects Rigby had got the best of the detective, but this was as much due to circumstances as anything else. Still, when it came to the technical side of the case, Rigby was no match for the inspector. It was nearly nine o'clock before Bates called at Carrington's rooms and asked to see the latter. There was no occasion yet for Bates to assume the very effective disguise with which he was to trick Anstruther. There would be plenty of time for that. Carrington was just finishing his dinner--so his man said. He was not very well, and did not care to see anybody. But Bates put the man aside in his own easy way, and walked into the dining-room without the trouble of announcing himself.
That Carrington was suffering from some mental and physical excitement was perfectly plain. His face was ghastly pale, his eyes were bloodshot, and there was a twitching of his lips which told a plain tale to an experienced officer like Bates. Carrington scowled, and demanded the meaning of this unwarrantable intrusion.
"I don't think you will find it unwarrantable when you have heard me to the finish," Bates said. "Nor will it pay you to take this tone with me. I am an inspector from Scotland Yard, and unless you answer my questions freely, I shall have to put them in a more disagreeable form."
Carrington changed his note altogether. His face became still more pallid. He motioned Bates to a chair. He would have found it hard to have spoken just then. Bates waited a moment to give the other time to recover. Carrington at length found words to ask Bates what his business was with him.
"It is with regard to your affair at the bank," the inspector explained. "You may not be aware of the fact, but the case has been placed in my hands by my superiors."
"Oh, you are alluding to the burglary," Carrington said.
"We will call it a burglary for the present," Bates replied, with a significance that there was no mistaking. "I have gone into the matter carefully, and I have come to the conclusion that there was no burglary at all."
Carrington jumped to his feet with a well-simulated air of indignation. He advanced towards Bates threateningly.
"You insolent scoundrel!" he cried. "What do you mean? Do you know you are dealing with a gentleman and man of honor?"
"Softly, softly," Bates replied. "I think we had better understand one another. I have in my possession at the present moment a warrant for your arrest for fraud and embezzlement, relating to certain jewels and other valuables deposited in your keeping by various clients. It is in my power to execute that warrant at once. The case is much too serious a one for bail, and it is for you to say whether you will remain for the present in your comfortable quarters, or pass, at any rate, the next two months in jail."
Carrington made no further show of fight. He collapsed into his chair, and wiped his wet forehead distractedly.
"You don't mean that," he groaned. "There must be some terrible mistake here. Why, all the evidences pointed to an ingenious and daring burglary. The night watchmen were drugged, as you know, and the thieves employed dynamite to blow up the safes. No one regrets the loss of all those valuables more than I do, but even banks are not secure against the modern burglar. Those safes were crammed full of valuables, as I could easily prove."
"They were," Bates corrected. "But I am in a position to prove a few things, too. You would give a great deal, I suppose, to know where those valuables are?"
Carrington replied to the effect that he would give half his fortune for the desired information. Bates smiled.
"You need not worry about it," he said. "I have a list in my pocket of the big pawnbrokers in London where most of the goods were pledged. In three cases the pawnbrokers in question are in a position to swear to the identity of the man who handled the jewels. You would not, of course, mind meeting these people?"
But Carrington had no reply. He looked so helplessly at Bates that the latter could not but feel sorry for him. "I am afraid the game is up, sir," he said. "My investigations of this case prove most conclusively that you are at the bottom of the whole thing. We know perfectly well that recent speculations of yours have brought about a financial crisis in your bank. In your desperate need, you realized the securities which certain clients had left in your hands. It was only when Lady Barmouth called for her gems that the situation became acute. But that will form the basis of another charge."
"But that was all a mistake," Carrington gurgled eagerly. "I sent Lady Barmouth her gems, but they proved to be those belonging to somebody else. I assure you that was quite an error."
Bates shrugged his shoulders impatiently. He was getting annoyed with this, man, who refused to follow his lead. "We know all about that ingenious fraud," he said. "We are quite aware of that clever business of the paste gems, for which you gave £200 at Clerkenwell. You paid for that rubbish with Bank of England notes marked with the stamp of your establishment. It was a very happy idea of yours and Anstruther's."
Carrington groaned feebly; he began to fear the very worst.
"You seem to know everything," he said. "Perhaps you can tell me the story of the burglary?"
"I am coming to that presently," Bates said coolly. "Now you were at your wits' ends to know what to do. You knew perfectly well that many of your clients would require their jewels for Lady Barmouth's dance. They were not forthcoming, for the simple reason that they had been pledged elsewhere. You had not the necessary cunning to devise some scheme to shift the blame from your shoulders, so you called in your friend Anstruther. It was he who hit upon the idea of the burglary. It was you who placed temptation in the way of the night watchmen through the medium of a couple of bottles of drugged port wine. After that the rest was easy. You had only to enter the bank with your own keys----"
"Stop a moment," Carrington cried eagerly. "You seem to forget that even I cannot enter the vaults of the bank without duplicate keys in the possession of various cashiers."
"Now, listen to me," Bates said impressively. "This discussion is absolutely irregular. It is my plain duty to arrest you at once and convey you to Bow Street. But if you help me, I may be in the position later on to do you a service. We know precisely how Anstruther used the dynamite; we know precisely what happened in the vaults, and how most of the few valuables that remained were conveyed to your own private safe. More than that, we are perfectly well aware what fee Anstruther demanded for his trouble. Need I go into the matter of that service of Cellini plate?"
Carrington threw up his hands with a gesture of despair. He was crushed and beaten to the ground by the tremendous weight of evidence with which Bates was overwhelming him.
"It is no use fighting any longer," he said. "I confess to everything. I shall plead guilty, and afford you every information in my power. Do you want me to come along with you now?"
On the whole, Bates rather thought not. He had effected his purpose, and sooner or later Carrington would have to become his prisoner. He knew that the latter would speak freely enough, like the craven coward that he was; but there was Anstruther to be thought of. Bates rose to leave.
"You can remain where you are for the present," he said. "But if you will take my advice, you will make no attempt to escape--you are too carefully watched for that; and now, good-night."
Bates went off in the direction of the City feeling that the last hour had not been wasted. On the strength of recent information, he would have felt justified in arresting Anstruther also. But he had a wholesome admiration for that individual, and the more evidence secured against him the better. Therefore it was that Bates was about to carry out the latter part of the programme, in which he was to play the part of substitute for "Simple Charlie." The programme had been easily arranged. There had been no difficulty in persuading the burglar to write the desired letter to Anstruther, and Bates had made up his mind from the first that the mythical Maggs should be none other than himself. From first to last the thing worked admirably. Anstruther was utterly deceived by the detective's admirable disguise, which he had assumed after leaving Carrington, and had fallen headlong into the trap.
Therefore it was that the two men stood facing one another in Carrington's office. Anstruther white and furious, Bates coolly contemptuous, with a revolver in his hand.
"What have you to say for yourself?" Bates asked. "Have you any reason to show why I should not take you straight to Bow Street on the charge of burglary?"
Anstruther was fighting hard to regain possession of himself. Bates could not but admire the marvelous courage of the man. Anstruther's laugh had something quite genuine about it.
"We are making a great fuss over a little thing," he said. "I came here because Mr. Carrington was not well enough to accompany me. There are certain things of mine in my friend's private safe here, and unfortunately he has lost the key. It was imperative that I should have my property to-night, and that will, perhaps, explain my presence here. Does that satisfy you?"
"I should be easily satisfied if it did," Bates said coolly. "I should like to know, for instance, why you require the assistance of a professional burglar. I know perfectly well that you called in the assistance of 'Simple Charlie,' but I was in a position to force that individual's hand--hence my appearance in his place."
"Really, Mr. Bates," Anstruther smiled. "I had expected better things from you. You are perfectly well aware of the fact that I am acquainted with half the thieves in London. It was no use asking any safe-maker in London to try to pick that lock, because it happens to be a French make. In such awkward circumstances as this it is no new thing to call in a cracksman when things are wanted in a hurry."
"I am afraid that won't do," Bates said. "You had plenty of time to call in legitimate assistance, whereas so recently as last night you visited 'Simple Charlie' and left a note for him."
Anstruther smiled politely. He was perfectly cool and collected now--a match for any detective in the force.
"We can settle the matter in two minutes," he said. "All you have to do is to call in one of your men from outside and send a note to Carrington, who will reply to the effect that I am here with his full knowledge and consent."
"Can't do it," Bates said curtly. "I have no man to send. As a matter of fact, I am alone in this business."
Anstruther bent down his head to conceal a smile. There was something devilish in the cunning ferocity of his eyes. He had discovered an important fact, and Bates did not seem to understand for the moment what he had given away. He felt quite sure that he had matters in his own hands now. He strolled slowly round the table, and proceeded to examine carefully the lock of the safe.
"Do you really think you could open this?" he asked. "If you could I should have no difficulty in proving to you----" Anstruther broke off suddenly; his left foot shot out dexterously, and Bates came half stumbling on his knees. Like lightning Anstruther grabbed for the revolver. He had Bates's wrist in a grip of steel, forcing his hand back till the fingers were bound to relax their grip on the weapon. A moment later the revolver was kicked away, and the two men were struggling desperately on the floor.
There was no mistaking the look on Anstruther's face. He was going to murder Bates if he could. It would never do for any living soul to know that he was here to-night. Once Bates's mouth was silenced forever, he could hurry back to Panton Square, and there prove such an alibi as would hold good in any legal court in the world. All these things passed through that wily brain as his hands clutched closer at Bates's throat.
It was touch and go with the latter. The only thing he could do was to fight for his breath, and husband his strength for a final effort later on. He looked straight into the gleaming eyeballs of his assailant now, but he could not see the faintest suggestion of pity there. The world began to dance before his eyes; a thousand stars seemed to be bursting from the dark sky; then came along the corridor the echo of fast-approaching footsteps.
"Curse it," Anstruther muttered. "Another moment, and I should have been safe. Take that, you hound."
With one final blow he jumped to his feet, and, sprinting across the office floor, darted into the shadow of the night.
Bates was sitting up in bed nursing an aching head, and plotting out schemes whereby he could best retrieve the disaster of the previous night. It was fortunate for the inspector that one of Carrington's night watchmen should have heard something of the disturbance on the previous night, and come hotfoot to his assistance. There was no great damage done beyond a bruised face and a general shock to the system. Bates felt all the better for a good night's rest, and was quite ready now to carry on the campaign against his powerful foe. It was some time in the afternoon before Jack Masefield put in an appearance at Bates's lodgings, having been summoned there by a special messenger. Jack smiled as he noticed Bates's somewhat dilapidated condition.
"What's the matter?" he asked. "You do not seem to have been as successful as you might--I mean over last night's business. Was the thing a failure, or were you satisfied?"
Bates explained that up to now the battle was a drawn one. He had a feeling that Jack would be able to help him, and that was why he asked him to call this afternoon.
"I am not in the least dissatisfied with my last night's work," he explained. "In the first place, we have Carrington absolutely at our mercy. I let him know what we have discovered, and he will do anything for us that we desire. After that, I played the part of the mythical Maggs, and in due course disclosed myself to Mr. Anstruther. Perhaps I was a little too confident; anyway, I gave him a chance to murder me, and he responded to the opportunity with absolute enthusiasm. But for the opportune arrival of the night watchman, Scotland Yard would have lost one of its most distinguished ornaments. It was a very near thing, I assure you."
"But what could he possibly gain by that?" Jack asked.
"Well, you see, I had let him know that I was quite alone in the business," said Bates. "At the same time, he was not aware that my information was so complete. If he could murder me and get safe home without being detected, he was in a position to prove an absolute alibi. Of course, I did not dream that I was running any risk of my life--but that is not the point. You will remember my suggesting to you yesterday the advisability of you dining in Panton Square last night. I suppose that was all right?"
Jack replied that he had followed Bates's instructions out implicitly. He had done all he could in that way.
"Very well, then. You see what I am driving at. I take it for granted that Anstruther's mysterious musical friend was much in evidence last night. I have no doubt that Miss Helmsley and yourself listened with rapt attention to the music in the study."
"We had every opportunity of doing so," Jack said.
"That is precisely what I expected. Anstruther must have left the house a little after ten o'clock, and I don't see how it was possible for him to return much before half-past twelve. I suppose you didn't happen to see him when he came in?"
"Indeed I did," Jack said. "It was quite half-past twelve when I was leaving the house. The music was still in progress, but when I slipped out of the front door, Anstruther was rapidly approaching the house running across the lawn. He seemed very much annoyed and put out when he saw me, and muttered something to the effect that he had heard somebody trying the front door. I understood him to say that he had not been out all the evening, but that was all nonsense. I could see by his boots that he had been walking some considerable distance. Of course, you see what the dodge is: he does not leave the house by the door, but by the French window leading from the study to the garden. This window he leaves unfastened, so that he can get back at any time without a soul being any the wiser. Of course, there was always a chance of somebody finding the window unlatched, but that is a small matter."
"Is the window always left open?" Bates asked thoughtfully.
Jack replied that he thought so. Bates smiled with the air of a man who is perfectly well satisfied.
"I am going to get up presently," he said. "After I have had a bath and some tea, I shall be quite fit for duty again. I want you to find some pretext for calling at Anstruther's just after dinner, because I may need your assistance."
"What are you going to do?" Jack asked eagerly.
"Well, in the first place I am going to arrest Mr. Anstruther," Bates replied. "In the second instance, I have another little scheme, which we need not discuss now. I want you to go as far as Mr. Rigby's chambers and get him to keep an eye on Padini, and see that last night's programme is repeated, if possible. This is rather an important thing. I think I can trust Mr. Rigby to manage it."
Jack went off obediently enough, and subsequently ran Rigby to earth at the offices of thePlanet. The latter seemed delighted at the turn which affairs were taking. He began to see now that he would be able to carry out for his paper the series of sensational articles required by the proprietor. "We shall have a splendid scoop," he said. "Indeed, one might almost make a three-volume novel out of it. I am only too sorry that I can't be at Anstruther's to-night and witness the arrest. I shall leave you to supply all the graphic details. I can easily manage the Padini business this evening by writing to the fellow that I have a check to pay over and shall call at his rooms late to-night. I am sure to find him there. He is very hard up, and the money is certain to fetch him."
"There are other things connected with this business," Jack said, "which puzzle me. For instance, there is that affair of the mysterious Mr. Ferris, whose acquaintance I made at the Great Metropolitan Hotel. I am quite sure, also, that Seymour has some deep design on hand. You may be absolutely certain that that business of the crystal ball played off on Anstruther at Lady Barmouth's dance the other night was not mere flummery."
Rigby was of the same opinion. He was anxious to know if anything had been yet done in the matter of Carrington's private safe and the service of Cellini plate which Anstruther had coolly appropriated for himself. But on this point Jack had no information to offer. He did not doubt that the whole thing would be explained in a few hours now. He killed the day as best he could, and after dinner turned his steps in the direction of Panton Square. Mr. Anstruther and Miss Helmsley had practically finished, Serena explained, but they had not yet left the dining-room. Anstruther raised his brows significantly as Jack entered the dining-room, but his manner was polite and cordial enough as he invited the visitor to a seat and a glass of claret. He did not look in the least perturbed or put out; on the contrary, Jack had seldom seen him so easy and self-possessed. His neuralgia was quite gone. He had charmed it away as usual, he said with the soothing aid of music.
"How is it you never bring your violin up to the drawing-room?" Claire asked. "We hardly ever have any duets together."
"After next week," Anstruther promised. "Really, I am a great deal more busy than I appear to be, and I feel it quite easy to play and think at the same time."
Jack glanced across the table significantly at Claire, and she seemed to divine what he was thinking about.
"I thought I knew most of your music," she said , "but there was one little item last night that took my fancy immensely. I feel quite sure that you composed it yourself."
Anstruther disclaimed any such gift. Fond as he was of his violin, it had never occurred to him to try his hand at original composition.
"All the same, I really must get it," Claire persisted. "I am sorry that you do not recall the piece at all. If you will come into the drawing-room with me, and can spare me a few minutes, I will strum the piece over to you. It so fascinated me that I committed it to memory. Do come along for a moment."
Anstruther laughed, as Jack thought, rather uneasily. He tried skilfully enough to divert the conversation into another channel, but Claire's enthusiasm refused to be baffled. Anstruther's face darkened for a moment, and there was a look in his eyes that boded ill to somebody. He rose and walked across towards the door, and up the stairs in the direction of the drawing-room..
"Very well, if you must," he said. "I can give you ten minutes. I dare say it is some silly trifle that I have heard somewhere without recognizing its source."
Claire seated herself at the piano, and played the little piece off with both brilliancy and feeling. As a matter of fact, she had been practicing it several times during the afternoon until she had it absolutely correct. The slow, mournful chords died away at length, and then Claire turned to her guardian with a smile.
"That is it," she said . "That is the little piece that so fascinated me last night. Surely you can tell me the name of it and where it came from?"
The question was apparently simple enough, but Anstruther appeared to be absolutely incapable of answering it.
"Do you mean to say you could forget a thing like that?" Claire protested. "It seems to me impossible."
"Perhaps it made less impression upon me than it did you," Anstruther muttered. "I haven't the slightest recollection of playing it myself. In fact----"
Anstruther broke off in absolute confusion. The incident, trivial as it seemed, had upset him altogether. He was about to betray himself by saying that he had never heard the piece before, and that it had no place amongst his music; but he pulled himself up just in time. He bitterly blamed Padini's carelessness. It was no part of the programme for his double to give him anything but pieces of music with which he was absolutely familiar. What he might have said and done was frustrated by the appearance of Serena, who announced that a gentleman down-stairs desired to see Mr. Anstruther.
Jack felt his pulses beating a little faster, for he had had no reason to inquire who the stranger was. Serena's eyes were demure and downcast as usual as she replied to Anstruther's question that the gentleman down-stairs was none other than Inspector Bates, of Scotland Yard. Only just for an instant did Anstruther falter and turn pale, then he was absolutely himself again. He almost wished now that he had not waited so long. He had his ingenious alibi, it was true, but even that might fail. There were so many meshes in the nets of Scotland Yard. In a calm, even voice he ordered Serena to show the stranger up-stairs. Bates came at length, a little pallid and bruised, but otherwise little worse for his last night's adventure.
"And what might be your business with me, inspector?" Anstruther asked. "It is some time since I had the pleasure of meeting you. Will you please take a seat?"
"I do not see the necessity," Bates responded. "As my business is private, perhaps you will be good enough to follow me to your study. I will speak if you like, but----"
"You may say anything you please," Anstruther said defiantly.
"Then I arrest you on a warrant, charging you with attempted burglary last night," Bates said pithily. "You were on the premises belonging to the City and Provincial Bank with a felonious intent of breaking into a safe between the hours of eleven and half-past twelve. Need I say any more?"
"Amazing," Anstruther laughed. "Fortunately I have my witnesses at hand to prove that I was not off these premises during the hours you mentioned. As a matter of fact, I was in my study playing my violin all the time."
"Sounds ingenious," Bates muttered, "but in these days of clever mechanical contrivances--by the way, is not some one playing the violin down-stairs now?"
Despite his command of himself, a furious curse broke from Anstruther's lips. For even as Bates spoke, there came sounds of liquid melody from the study. Not only was this so, but, furthermore, the piece in question was precisely the same as the one that Claire had just been playing over to her guardian. The girl rose to her feet, and looked across at Jack significantly. Bates smiled in the manner of one who has solved a great problem.
"Really, a most remarkable coincidence," he said. "I am afraid this rather spoils the simple beauty of your alibi, Mr. Anstruther; unless, perhaps, you have some friend who entertains your household at such times as business calls you elsewhere. But let us go down-stairs and see for ourselves."
"No, no," Anstruther cried furiously. "You shall not do it. You shall not interfere. I'll kill you first."
"Come along," Bates responded. "Come with me and witness the solving of the mysterious problem."
It was plainly evident that Bates believed in his ability to solve the problem. Anstruther had quite thrown the mask off by this time, and stood glaring vindictively at the inspector. It was absolutely maddening to a man of his ability to be caught in a sorry trap like this. One of the strongest points in Anstruther's schemes was the fact that hitherto he had always been on the side of the police. He had been regarded as one of them, so to speak, so that many of his ingenious plots had been guided solely by the action of the authorities. It had never once occurred to him that he might have been an object of suspicion at Scotland Yard.
"You might just as well take it quietly," Bates said. "We know the whole thing from start to finish. It will go a great deal easier with you if you give us all the information that lies in your power and save us trouble."
"That is the usual course, I believe," Anstruther sneered. "But you have a different man to deal with in me. I am quite at a loss to understand what you are doing here at all."
Bates shrugged his shoulders, and walked in the direction of the door. He had no difficulty in seeing that Anstruther had made up his mind to see this thing through to the bitter end. Therefore, it was quite useless to try and get him to see matters in a reasonable light. Anstruther stood there, white, silent, and furious, whilst all the time the amazing music was going on in the study.
Mysterious as the whole thing appeared to be, there was almost an element of farce in it. Here was the very man who relied upon his devotion to his violin to save him in the hour of danger, actually listening, so to speak, to his own performance. He had little doubt what Bates meant to do, for the latter was already half-way down the stairs on his way to the study. With a sudden impulse Anstruther followed. He passed Bates with a rapid stride, and, standing with his back to the study door, defied the inspector to enter.
"You do not seem to understand," Bates said. "The warrant I have for your arrest gives me the right of searching the whole house. If you persist in this absurd conduct, I shall have to call my men in and remove you by force."
The two men faced one another, both angry and excited, and ready to fly at one another's throats. And yet the whole time their ears were filled with the beautiful melody of the music, as it floated from the room behind.
"What are we going to do?" Claire asked. She was standing with Jack at the top of the staircase. "Is it not time that we declared ourselves?"
Jack whispered to Claire to remain where she was a moment, and slipped out of the house into the garden unperceived. It had suddenly occurred to him that perhaps the window leading from the study to the garden was unfastened. He recollected that this was the means by which Anstruther left and returned to the house. It would have been imprudent on the latter's part to use the front door, and there was not much risk in leaving the study window unlatched.
It was just as Jack had expected. The long French window gave to his touch, and a moment later he was in the room. As it happened on the previous occasion, he could see not the faintest trace of any mechanism by means of which the melody was conveyed from the Great Metropolitan Hotel to Panton Square. And yet the whole room was flooded with it; rising and falling in triumphant strains, as if mocking the intellect of a man who had brought this wonderful result about. But there was no time to speculate on that, no time for close investigation. On the other side of the door the voices of Anstruther and Bates were rising to a still more angry pitch, and Claire's tones of expostulation came to Jack's ears. As he crossed the room he could see that the key was in the door. He flung it open, and Anstruther came staggering backward into the room, closely followed by the detective.
"You can see that the game is up," the latter said coolly. "Why not make a clean breast of it? I shall find out how this is done, if I have to pull down the house to do it."
Anstruther smiled in a scornful kind of way, and flung himself doggedly into a seat. He bade Bates do his worst, and prophesied that the police would suffer for this indignity. But Bates was not listening. He was pacing rapidly round the room with his ear to the wall, as if scenting out some clue to the mystery. A moment later, and there came into the room the form of Serena.
One glance at her sufficed to show that she was not the Serena whom Jack had known so long. The demure, downcast eyes were no longer seeking the floor as of old; there was no shrinking and timidity on the part of the woman now. She was changed almost beyond recognition. She walked with a firm, elastic tread, her shoulders were thrown back, and her head uplifted fearlessly. From under his heavy brows Anstruther glanced at her suspiciously.
"Go away," he commanded hoarsely. "How dare you force yourself in here like this! Go, woman."
But the tones of command had evidently lost their power. There was no shrinking on Serena's part. She advanced into the middle of the room as if the place belonged to her.
"No, no," she cried in tones as clear and ringing as Anstruther's own. "Your power has gone forever. For three long patient years I have waited for this moment. God only knows what my life has been, and what a hell your cruelty has created for me. But the cord is broken now. Only to-night I have learned the truth. I have been your good and faithful servant; I have stooped to do your hateful work; I have been the ally of criminals--of your creature Redgrave, amongst others; and all because I thought you held my life in the hollow of your hand."
"Tell them the story of your boy," Anstruther sneered.
"I will tell them the truth," Serena cried. "You said you could hang me if you liked. You pretended that in my delirium I had taken the life of my darling child. You were shielding a murderess, as I thought. But it was a black and cruel lie. Give me back my wasted years, you coward; give me back my sleepless nights and dreary days. But, thank God, that time has passed. My boy is alive--alive! He is safe in the house at present!"
Anstruther started as if some loathsome insect had stung him, then dropped sullenly back in his seat again. Bates turned to Serena and called her attention to the music.
"You seem to be in a communicative mood to-night," he said. "You need not fear any one for the future--Redgrave, or anybody else. I understand this last scoundrel is safe in the hands of the New York police, who were wanting him badly. Perhaps you can tell us the meaning of this extraordinary concert we are listening to. If you will be so good----"
Serena made no reply in words, but crossed to the side of the room opposite the door, and tugged at a volume which was the centre of a set of some classical dictionary. The volume came away quite easily in her hand, bringing other dummy books with it; and then the interested spectators saw that the books in question were no more than painted gauze. In the orifice disclosed by the stripping away of the sham, there appeared to be something that resembled a mouth of a great silver trumpet. This was partly plugged with a set of sensitive metal plates, which were evidently intended to act as a diaphragm for the record of musical expression.
"There you have the whole thing in a nutshell," Serena said, speaking quite naturally and quietly. "It is very ingenious, and yet, at the same time, it is not entirely original. It is an adaptation of the theatre-phone, in connection with a somewhat modified form of telephone. The recording instrument is situated in my husband's in the Great Metropolitan Hotel, and he has only to start his performance there, and the music sounds here quite as distinctly as if he were actually playing in this apartment. It seems exceedingly simple, now that you know how it is done."
It did seem simple, indeed, after listening to Serena's explanation. Bates turned to Anstruther, and asked him if he had anything to say; but the latter shook his head doggedly. He felt quite sure that the game was up, though he had no intention whatever of giving himself away. And yet, despite his danger, he was still the connoisseur enjoying the beautiful music made by Padini's violin. But to Claire, who had crept into the room unobserved, the whole thing was horrible and unnatural. Such lovely music as Padini was playing now was but a sorry accompaniment to all this vulgar crime and intrigue. The girl shuddered, and placed her hands over her ears as if to shut out the liquid melody.
"Oh, I wish it would stop," she said . "I do wish it would stop."
As if in answer to this prayer, the long, wailing notes died away, and the music fainted into nothingness. At the same time, Bates approached the mouth of the trumpet, and blew shrilly on his police whistle. There was a pause just for an instant, and then, to Jack's surprise, came the voice of Rigby clear and distinct.
"Is that you, Inspector Bates?" he asked. "We have just finished at this end. I am afraid there will be no more music to-night, as two of your detectives have most inhospitably insisted upon breaking up our concert, and escorting Signor Padini to Shannon Street police station. Shall I come round there, or will you come round here? Do you get my voice quite clearly?"
Bates replied grimly that he did. There was no occasion whatever to trouble Rigby any further to-night. Then the inspector turned to Anstruther, and tapped him on the shoulder.
"I think there is no reason to carry this farce any farther," he said. "You will be good enough to consider yourself my prisoner. Would you like to walk to Bow Street, or shall I call a cab?"
Anstruther intimated that it was all the same to him. He knew perfectly well now that the whole thing was exploded. There was something bitter in the reflection that he had been found out at last and laid by the heels over so paltry a business as the bogus burglary at the City and Provincial Bank.
"I think I'll walk," he said. "No, you need not call any of your men, and you need have no fear of personal violence."
"All right," Bates said. "Though I am still suffering from the shaking up you gave me last night. Come along."
"I must apologize for all this trouble," Anstruther said, turning to Claire, and speaking in quite his natural manner. "I must leave you to manage as best you can for the present. I dare say you will be able to manage with Serena."
He turned curtly on his heel, and walked to the door. Of Jack he took no notice whatever. A moment later the front door closed sullenly, and Anstruther was gone.
"The house smells all the sweeter for his absence," Jack said. "My dearest girl, you can see now what a narrow escape you have had. I only hope, for your sake, that the fellow has not been tampering with your fortune. You must not stay here after to-morrow. The place will be simply besieged by newspaper reporters and interviewers. I must find some house for you----"
"You need not trouble about that, Mr. Masefield," Serena said. "There is one house where both of us will be welcomed with open arms. Need I say that I am alluding to Lady Barmouth's?"
Jack gave a sigh of relief; for the moment he had quite forgotten Lady Barmouth. At any rate, for to-night Claire and Serena could stay where they were, and they could go to Lady Barmouth's in the morning. Then Jack remembered all that Serena had gone through, and warmly congratulated her upon the recovery of her boy. "It means all the world to me," Serena cried. "It fell out exactly as Miss Helmsley said it would. When that man called to see Mr. Anstruther again, I told him who I was, and he took me to my child at once. The stranger had been very kind to the lad. He knew nothing of the rascality and villainy behind it all, and he was only too glad to see mother and son united."
"And Padini?" Jack suggested. "You must not forget----"
"I want to forget everything about him," Serena cried. "I shall be glad, really glad, to know that that man is outside the power of doing mischief for the next three years. Do not ask me anything else--do not ask me, for instance, why I was playing the deaf-mute that night at Carrington's rooms. I don't know. I was a mere slave and tool in Anstruther's hands, and had to do exactly as he told me. It was only by the merest accident that I discovered how the trick of the music was done, and that I should have had to have kept to myself if my dear boy had not been so marvelously restored to me. Perhaps at some future time, I may be disposed to tell you more. For the present, all I want to do is to sleep. I am longing for that one night's sweet repose which has been so cruelly denied to me the last few years."
Jack said no more. He left the house presently with the intention of seeing Rigby at once, and then of calling on Lady Barmouth the first thing in the morning, and making such arrangements as would conduce to the comfort of Claire and Serena.