CHAPTER IVTHE OPENED SAFE
Inspector Charles, I could see, was deeply impressed by the sagacity with which Tarleton had solved the riddle of the dead man’s identity. It was a very simple step, but it is precisely the simple ideas that generally escape the trained mind of the official.
“Doctor Weathered,” the Captain pronounced slowly. “I suppose there is no doubt of that being Wilson’s real name.”
“Very little doubt, I should say,” my chief responded. “What do you think, Cassilis?”
I endeavoured to take a judicial tone.
“I don’t see much room for hesitation. Here is a man without his keys, and there are the keys without the man. Besides, it all corresponds with what you said, Sir Frank, about the dead man’s appearance. A fashionable West End physician is just what I should expect him to be. And no one would be in a better position to introduce people of good position to a club of this kind.”
The Inspector’s face had become overcast with doubt while I was speaking.
“That’s all very well,” he demurred, “but we have been hearing a lot about Wilson’s being afraid of enemies, and taking precautions about what hedrank; and now it turns out to be a simple case of burglary.”
Tarleton consulted me by a look. I just lifted my shoulders in answer without speaking. Mine was a difficult part to play just then. On the one hand, I did not wish my chief to think me wanting in brains; on the other, I dreaded above all things betraying any previous knowledge of anything connected with the mystery.
Fortunately he appeared to approve of my reserve. “We may be able to understand that better when we get to Warwick Street,” he said to Charles. “The next thing for us to do is to go round there and send some member of the household here to identify the deceased.”
To this course there could be no opposition. The plain-clothes man was called in and placed in charge of the corpse with strict instructions to let no one approach it unless he came with a written authority from Sir Frank or the Inspector. Then the three of us entered the doctor’s car and drove towards Cavendish Square.
On the way my chief said to me, “It is curious that I can’t call to mind ever having heard of a Dr. Weathered. He must have been a man of high standing in the profession, apparently; probably a consultant; and yet his name is quite strange to me. Do you happen to have heard it at any time?”
It was a difficult question for me. I dared nottell a lie which accident might expose at any moment; but still less dared I tell the whole truth.
“I have heard the name,” I replied, speaking as slowly as possible to give myself time to frame the least compromising answer. “Perhaps I ought to say that I heard it from one of his patients in the course of a confidential communication, so that I hardly know how far I am justified in making any use of what I heard.”
Tarleton promptly raised his hand.
“Not another word,” he enjoined to my intense relief. But my relief was qualified when he proceeded. “A confidence made to a medical man is as sacred in my view as a confession made to a priest. You will understand that, Captain Charles, I am sure. We must not ask Dr. Cassilis to tell us anything more.”
Captain Charles assented rather reluctantly I thought. His original disapproval of me seemed to revive at the same time. He stole furtive glances at me now and then, as though he were wondering whether it was prudent on his part to keep such doubtful company.
The gold repeater in Tarleton’s fingers kept time to his meditations till the car drew up in front of a smart house in a smart street in the region most favoured by Court physicians and the big-wigs of the medical profession, a class for whom I knew that my eccentric chief felt a very moderate respect. The house was brightly painted, and the windows weregarnished with boxes of scarlet geraniums and blue lobelias. The brass plate on the door was burnished to shine like glass, and the steps were a dazzling white. Nothing could have been further removed from any suggestion of secret practices or unhallowed consultations.
The man who opened the door to us matched the exterior of the house as far as his own exterior was concerned. He was young and clean-shaven, his hair was beautifully brushed, and his neat clothes were as new and well-fitting as those of the man whom we had left lying in the alcove at the Domino Club. The face itself was that of a simple, harmless young man, incapable of suspecting either his master or his master’s patients. It was impossible to think that he had ever been aware of anything strange or doubtful in his environment, so innocent and fresh was his whole aspect. The very nervousness with which he received us was the nervousness of youth and inexperience finding itself in the presence of unexpected trouble.
Inspector Charles briefly announced his name and official character, and those of my chief, not deeming me worthy of individual mention. Tarleton promptly took the youthful butler in hand.
“Have the police been here before?” was his first question.
Simmons, as he turned out to be named, said that they had. The constable on the beat had noticed that the front door was ajar about five o’clock that morning,and had promptly roused the household. He, Simmons, had been first on the spot, and had begun by supposing that his master had omitted to make the door fast on his return. He knew that the doctor had gone out overnight, though he had no idea where. He went out pretty often, and was generally rather late in coming home. However, the policeman had insisted on his going to see if Dr. Weathered was upstairs; and he had found his room empty and the bed undisturbed.
On that, the officer had come in to search the premises, beginning with the doctor’s consulting-room, in which there was a safe. There the first sight that met their eyes was the door of the safe standing wide open. The key was in the keyhole, with the whole bunch, including the latchkey, dangling from it.
“And what had been taken from the safe?” Tarleton asked, calling my attention with a significant glance.
“Nothing,” was the surprising answer. “I mean nothing as far as we could see. We opened the drawers in which the doctor used to put his fees till he paid them into the bank, and they were full, one full of notes and the other of silver. The doctor’s lowest fee was three guineas,” the doctor’s man added with some pride.
“Take us to that room,” my chief commanded.
Simmons obeyed without hesitation. My heart was beating so loudly in my ears that I could notovercome the childish fear that it might be heard by others, in spite of my medical knowledge to the contrary. I fell back and let my companions go into the room without me while I collected myself before joining them.
Yet there was nothing in Dr. Weathered’s professional sanctum to inspire dismay.
The room in which he received his patients was as bright and as well appointed as everything else in the establishment. A handsome walnut writing-table was lightly strewn with medical books and papers, relieved by a handsome china bowl full of roses. The patient’s chair was luxuriously cushioned with yellow silk, and the doctor’s own chair was a handsome one upholstered in tooled morocco leather. There was only one bookcase, and its appearance was more suited to a drawing-room than a professional man’s study. The frame was richly inlaid with ornamental woods, and the glass doors were protected by gilt wires. A small marble group of Eros and Psyche stood on the top, flanked by Chinese dragons. Elsewhere the walls of the room were hung with charming water-colours, most of them of a rather sensuous description, depicting youths and maidens bathing in pools, and scenes of love and jealousy.
Tarleton took in every detail with one of those swift, searching looks of his which seemed to penetrate to some inner meaning beneath the surface of all he saw. Finally, his eye rested on the corner in which a safe about three feet high, painted to looklike oxydized silver, was clamped on a supporting stand of ebony.
“You have locked the safe, I see. Where are the keys?”
The sudden demand agitated the nervous butler.
“Miss Sarah has them,” he stuttered. “At least she took them away when she locked up the safe. Perhaps she’s given them to her mother—to Mrs. Weathered.”
Sir Frank opened his eyes. I think we all did. Somehow it seemed incongruous that the founder of the Domino Club should be a married man.
“Is there a Mrs. Weathered then?”
“Why, yes, sir.” Simmons showed as much surprise as we had. “Would you like to see her, Sir Frank?” He seemed rather eager to get away and fetch his mistress to deal with us.
The consultant restrained him by an imperative gesture.
“One moment, if you please. You haven’t told us what happened after you had found the safe open. Did you go to call Mrs. Weathered?”
“I should have gone, sir, but Miss Sarah came down and found us looking into the safe. So I left it to her.”
Again the man made a movement as if to escape, and again the specialist arrested him.
“What brought her down? Did she know what had happened?”
Simmons seemed honestly confused. “I really can’t tell you, sir. I suppose one of the servants must have gone upstairs and told her. They were all about.”
Tarleton nodded. “Go on. When she came in what did she do?”
“She was rather angry sir, at first. She thought the doctor had come home in a great hurry to fetch something for someone who was ill, and had rushed off again, and forgotten to lock the safe and take his keys. She said we had no business to look inside in his absence. And she locked the safe herself, and sent the policeman away, saying no doubt Dr. Weathered would be back again presently. But that was more than four hours ago, and there’s been no sign of him yet, sir.”
It was evident that Simmons considered his young mistress had been over-confident. We, who knew it so much better than he did could only sympathize with his feelings. Sir Frank made no further effort to detain him.
“Very well. You can let Mrs. Weathered know we are here, and say that I shall be glad to speak with her as soon as possible.”
When the butler had gone he turned to me.
“What do you make of this room, Cassilis? What sort of diseases do you think were treated here?”
I thought it best to glance at the pictures and the marble group before expressing my opinion.
“Not very serious ones I should say,” I answered lightly.
My chief frowned.
“And yet one of them has proved pretty serious in its consequences,” he observed. “You don’t agree with Miss Weathered that it was her father who left that bunch of keys in the door of the open safe?”
I did my best to control myself as I shook my head.
“Rather curious that she should have interfered, though, instead of her mother,” Captain Charles put in with an air of sagacity.
Tarleton threw himself into the doctor’s own chair, and taking out his watch, began to swing it gently.
“I expect to meet with more than one curious circumstance in the course of this inquiry,” he said lazily. “It is just possible that Weathered’s daughter knew more about him than his wife did.” He sat up suddenly. “But I am wasting your valuable time, Captain Charles. There is nothing here that Cassilis and I cannot deal with. It is simply a question of having the body identified, and brought round here, if the authorities decide to keep the case private. You had better lose no time in communicating with the Foreign Office and the Home Office, and letting me know their decision. And don’t forget there are the costumes to be traced.”
The Captain was already on the move. I fancied he was not sorry to be released. Tarleton was too biga personality for anyone else to find himself much more than a dummy in his company, and the Inspector’s sense of self-importance must have suffered as long as he was in the physician’s train.
My chief was good enough to offer me a private explanation as soon as we were alone.
“I have every confidence in Charles’s honesty, but very little in his tact. And this is a case that calls for very careful handling. These people won’t tell us more than they can help if they are afraid of a public scandal. And, on the other hand, if they know that the whole affair is going to be hushed up they won’t tell us anything at all.” Tarleton let his eyes rove round the walls of the room as he proceeded. “I don’t want Charles to see the direction in which I am feeling my way. You see, he is not my subordinate. He isn’t responsible to me for his actions. He is quite at liberty to go to the Chief Commissioner behind my back, and tell him whatever is in his mind, and the Commissioner can go to Sir James Ponsonby in the same way. We must walk warily Cassilis.”
I tried in vain to catch the doctor’s eye while he was speaking. How much did he mean to convey by that singular warning? Was he referring to my admission that I had heard Dr. Weathered’s name before, and cautioning me to make no more such admissions in the Inspector’s hearing? I felt a sick apprehension which I dared not show.
Sir Frank seemed quite unconscious of my distress.“You and I,” he went on in a confidential way, “know that it wasn’t Weathered who crept into this room last night, and crept out again, leaving the keys behind. And we also know that whoever came here didn’t come for money. I think we can both guess what he did come for—he or she.”
He darted a sudden glance at me as he uttered the last word, and he must have seen me start. But at that instant the door opened, and we both rose to our feet to receive the ladies coming in.
There were two of them. Mrs. Weathered was a woman of about the same age as the man whom we had left lying in the Domino Club, but of a very different social type. She was not vulgar in any offensive sense of the word, but her appearance and manner were those of a woman such as one would expect to meet in the back parlour of a shop in a provincial town, rather than in a West End drawing-room. Her features were plain as well as homely; her gray hair showed no trace of a skilful maid’s art, and her fashionable dress only exposed her unfitness to wear it. Such a wife could only be a serious handicap to an ambitious man making his way upward in London society. It was possible to at least understand one of the doctor’s temptations to lead a secret life which brought him into more congenial company than his homely wife’s. Yet there was something touching in her pale, worn face; and her mild blue eyes searched our faces with a pitiful anxietythat convinced me that her husband still had a hold on her affection.
Her daughter was as little like her as it was possible to be. Young enough in years—I put her down as little more than twenty—her face and figure were those of a ripe woman. Both were queenly. Her sombre crown of hair and flashing eyes made me think of Judith and the tragic heroines of old who were driven to avenge themselves on the men who had done them wrong. She betrayed none of her mother’s anxiety. Stern, self-possessed and courageous, she faced Sir Frank and myself with the demeanour of the accuser rather than the accused.
Mrs. Weathered was the first to speak. Although addressing my chief as the elder of us two, I found her turning her eyes towards me as though more hopeful of sympathy from my youth. Her daughter on the contrary kept her intent gaze fixed on Tarleton and seemed barely conscious of my presence in the room.
“Have you any news for me, sir? Dr. Weathered hasn’t come back yet—not since he was here in the early morning, and left his keys behind.”
The physician shook his head with a grave air.
“I am not sure that you are right in thinking that it was your husband who came here and left those keys. Before I say anything more I should like to look inside the safe.”
Mrs. Weathered turned a wondering look on her daughter, who frowned in return.
“Why?” She demanded. “Nothing has been taken. I looked myself, and the money was all there untouched. No burglar would have gone away without helping himself to it, surely?”
“Perhaps it was not a burglar. It was someone who had been in your father’s company, or he could not have obtained possession of his bunch of keys.”
The girl drew herself up in wrath.
“Dr. Weathered is not my father sir. My mother has only been married to him five years. My name is Neobard.”
A glimmering of the true situation came to me. The dead man had married a widow, an unattractive one, with a daughter old enough to resent her mother’s action and show it. There could be no reasonable doubt that she must have had money, probably a good deal, and that her daughter’s fortune had gone to enrich the step-father. I could pretty well guess the whole story. A provincial doctor with more brains than wealth had courted his rich patient to obtain the means of coming to London and setting up as a consultant in the West End. That was why neither Tarleton nor I had heard of him as a man distinguished in the profession. He had risen, not by scientific merit, but by the possession of money and an imposing manner. There were too many such cases in the medical world.
By this time Mrs. Weathered had sat down and invited us to do the same. But Miss Neobard remained standing, still with the same air of suppressedindignation. Tarleton appeared not to be aware of anything strange in her manner.
“Your step-father, then,” he corrected himself amiably. “Dr. Cassilis and I are better acquainted with the usual contents of a doctor’s safe than you are, I expect; and perhaps we shall be better able to judge if anything has been taken than you.”
“I don’t think he kept any drugs in it, if that’s what you’re thinking of,” the girl said obstinately. It was clear that she resented our being there and was disposed to help us as little as possible.
“Indeed!” The specialist turned to Mrs. Weathered, whose face showed some bewilderment at her daughter’s attitude. “Perhaps you can tell me, ma’am, if your husband specialized in any particular disease, or class of diseases.”
The pale widow glanced at her daughter as though for permission to answer, and was met by a smile of scorn.
“I know that he takes nervous cases,” Mrs. Weathered said with a certain hesitation. “He is a psychological expert.”
She pronounced the phrase in the tone of a person who had learnt it by heart, and expected us to understand it better than she did herself. Miss Neobard’s gall overflowed at the sound.
“He called himself that to begin with,” she put in sharply. “Now it is a psychical analyst. Women come and tell him their secrets as if he were a priest.”
A quiver in the eyelashes told me that this wasthe information my chief had been expecting to receive. But his tone showed no animation when he spoke.
“In that case I dare say Miss Neobard may be right about the drugs. However, I must ask you to be good enough to let me have Dr. Weathered’s keys.”
The mother was evidently divided between fear of us and fear of her daughter to whom she appealed with another helpless look.
“By what right do you ask for them, Sir Frank? My mother is not entitled to give up her husband’s keys without his consent. He may be back at any moment—and then you can ask him.”
At last it was necessary to speak out. The girl’s position was perfectly right if she was ignorant of her step-father’s fate.
“I am deeply sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” Tarleton said to the widow. “I’m afraid you must prepare yourself to hear the worst.” He paused for a moment. The ready tears that began to stream from the poor woman’s eyes showed that she had not been altogether unprepared, and the swift flash of silent exultation in her daughter’s told plainly who it was that had prepared her. I was pleased to see her throw a caressing arm round her mother’s neck before she spoke again.
“You mean that Dr. Weathered is dead?”
“A body has been found on certain premises in Chelsea which there is reason to fear is his. It ispart of our business here to find someone to come round and identify him.”
A moan from the widow drew her daughter’s arm more tightly round her. She thrust her free hand into a pocket and drew out a bunch of keys.
“Take these. And excuse me. I must take my mother to her room. I will come back in a few minutes and go round with you to the Club.”
I was quick to open the door as the strange girl supported her mother out of the room. I had no sooner closed it again than my chief repeated her last words.
“The Club!—I fancy that young woman could tell us a good deal about her step-father if she chose. And now!”
He stepped towards the safe, found the right key, and threw open the door.
“What do you say has been taken, Cassilis?”
There could be no doubt as to the answer, although I went through the form of looking carefully inside before I gave it.
It was the doctor’s case-book that was missing, the book containing the secrets of the women.