CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  MR. KILLICK GOES BACK

  Ayscough and the man from New Scotland Yard came out of the court atthat moment in close and serious conversation: Melky Rubinstein leftthe other three, and hurried to the two detectives with his news;together, the six men set off for Praed Street. And Purdie, who by thistime was developing as much excited interest as his temperament andbusiness habits permitted, buttonholed the Scotland Yard man and walkedalongside him.

  "What's your professional opinion about what we've just heard inthere?" he asked. "Between ourselves, of course."

  The detective, who had already had several long conversations withPurdie at headquarters during the previous afternoon and evening, andknew him for a well-to-do young gentleman who was anxious to clear hisfriend Lauriston of all suspicion, shook his head. He was a quiet,sagacious, middle-aged man who evidently thought deeply about whateverhe had in hand.

  "It's difficult to say, Mr. Purdie," he answered. "I've no doubt thatwhen we get to the bottom of this case it'll turn out to be a verysimple one--but the thing is to get to the bottom. The ways arecomplicated, sir--uncommonly so! At present we're in a maze--seekingthe right path."

  "Do you think that this Parslett affair has anything to do with theMultenius affair?" asked Purdie.

  "Yes--undoubtedly!" answered the detective. "There's no doubt whateverin my own mind that the man who poisoned Parslett is the man who causedthe old pawnbroker's death--none! I figure it in this way. Parslettsomehow, caught a glimpse of that man leaving Multenius's shop--by theside-door, no doubt--and knew him--knew him very well, mind you! WhenParslett heard of what had happened in Multenius's back-parlour, hekept his knowledge to himself, and went and blackmailed the man. Theman gave him that fifty pounds in gold to keep his tongue quiet--nodoubt arranging to give him more, later on--and at the same time hecleverly poisoned him. That's my theory, Mr. Purdie."

  "Then--the only question now is--who's the man?" suggested Purdie.

  "That's it, sir--who's the man?" agreed the detective. "One thing'squite certain--if my theory's correct. He's a clever man--and an expertin the use of poisons."

  Purdie walked on a minute or two in silence, thinking.

  "It's no use beating about the bush," he said at last. "Do you suspectMr. Levendale--after all you've collected in information--and afterwhat I told you about what his butler saw--that bottle and phial?"

  "I think that Levendale's in it," replied the detective, cautiously."I'm sure he's in it--in some fashion. Our people are making no end ofenquiries about him this morning, in various quarters--there'shalf-a-dozen of our best men at work in the City and the West End, Mr.Purdie. He's got to be found! So, too, has this man StephenPurvis--whoever he is. We must find him, too."

  "Perhaps these letters that Melky Rubinstein speaks of may throw somelight on that," said Purdie. "There must be some way of tracing him,somewhere."

  They were at the pawnshop by that time, and all six trooped in at theside-entrance. Old Daniel Multenius, unconscious of all the fuss andbother which his death had caused, was to be quietly interred thatafternoon, and Zillah and Melky were already in their mourninggarments. But Zillah had lost none of her business habits andinstincts, and while the faithful Mrs. Goldmark attended to the funeralguests in the upstairs regions, she herself was waiting in theback-parlour for these other visitors. On the table before her,evidently placed there for inspection, lay three objects to which sheat once drew attention--one, an old-fashioned, double-breasted fancywaistcoat, evidently of considerable age, and much worn, the others,two letters written on foreign notepaper.

  "It never occurred to me," said Zillah, plunging into business at once,"at least, until an hour or two ago, to examine the clothes mygrandfather was wearing at the time of his death. As a matter of facthe'd been wearing the same clothes for months. I've been through allhis pockets. There was nothing of importance--except these letters. Ifound those in a pocket in the inside of that waistcoat--there! Readthem."

  The men bent over the unfolded letters, and Ayscough read them aloud.

  "MACPHERSON'S HOTEL, CAPE TOWN,

  "_September 17th_, 1912.

  "Dear Sir,--I have sent the little article about which I have alreadywritten you and Mr. L. fully, to your address by ordinary registeredpost. Better put it in your bank till I arrive--shall write you laterabout date of my arrival. Faithfully yours,

  "Stephen Purvis."

  "That," remarked Ayscough, glancing at the rest, "clearly refers towhatever it was that Mr. Multenius took from his bank on the morning ofhis death. It also refers to Mr. Levendale--without doubt."

  He drew the other letter to him and read it out.

  "CAPE TOWN,

  "_October 10th_, 1912.

  "Dear Sir,--Just a line to say I leave here by s.s. _Golconda_ in a dayor two--this precedes me by today's mail. I hope to be in EnglandNovember 15th--due then, anyway--and shall call on you immediately onarrival. Better arrange to have Mr. S. L. to meet you and me at once.Faithfully,

  "Stephen Purvis."

  "November 15th?" remarked Ayscough. "Mr. Multenius died on November19th. So--if Purvis did reach here on the 15th he'd probably been aboutthis quarter before the 19th. We know he was at Mrs. Goldmark'srestaurant on the 18th, anyway! All right, Miss Wildrose--we'll takethese letters with us."

  Lauriston stopped behind when the rest of the men went out--to exchangea few words alone with Zillah. When he went into the street, all hadgone except Purdie, who was talking with Melky at the entrance to theside-alley.

  "That's the sure tip at present, mister," Melky was saying. "Get thatdone--clear that up. Mr. Lauriston," he went on, "you do what yourfriend says--we're sorting things out piece by piece."

  Purdie took Lauriston's arm and led him away.

  "What Melky says is--go and find out what Mr. Killick can prove," hesaid. "Best thing to do, too, Andie, for us. Now that these detectivesare fairly on the hunt, and are in possession of a whole multitude ofqueer details and facts, we'll just do our bit of business--which is toclear you entirely. There's more reasons than one why we should dothat, my man!"

  "What're you talking about, John?" demanded Lauriston. "You've someidea in that head of yours!"

  "The idea that you and that girl are in love with each other!" saidPurdie with a sly look.

  "I'll not deny that!" asserted Lauriston, with an ingenuous blush. "Weare!"

  "Well, you can't ask any girl to marry you, man, while there's theleast bit of suspicion hanging over you that you'd a hand in hergrandfather's death!" remarked Purdie sapiently. "So we'll just eat abit of lunch together, and then get a taxi-cab and drive out to findthis old gentleman that gave your mother the rings. Come on to thehotel."

  "You're spending a fine lot of money over me, John!" exclaimedLauriston.

  "Put it down that I'm a selfish chap that's got interested, and isfollowing his own pleasure!" said Purdie. "Man alive!--I was nevermixed up in a detective case before--it beats hunting for animals, thishunting for men!"

  By a diligent search in directories and reference books early thatmorning, Purdie and Lauriston had managed to trace Mr. Edward Killick,who, having been at one time a well-known solicitor in the City, hadfollowed the practice of successful men and retired to enjoy the fruitof his labours in a nice little retreat in the country. Mr. Killick hadselected the delightful old-world village of Stanmore as the scene ofhis retirement, and there, in a picturesque old house, set in the midstof fine trees and carefully trimmed lawns, Purdie and Lauriston foundhim--a hale and hearty old gentleman, still on the right side ofseventy, who rose from his easy chair in a well-stocked library to lookin astonishment from the two cards which his servant had carried to himat the persons and faces of their presenters.

  "God bless my soul!" he exclaimed. "Are you two young fellows the sonsof old friends of mine at Peebles?"

  "We are, sir," answered Purdie. "This is Andrew Lauriston, and I amJohn Purdie. And we're very glad to find that you remember something
about our people, Mr. Killick."

  Mr. Killick again blessed himself, and after warmly shaking hands withhis visitors, bade them sit down. He adjusted his spectacles, andlooked both young men carefully over.

  "I remember your people very well indeed!" he said. "I used to do a bitof fishing in the Tweed and in Eddleston Water with your father, Mr.Purdie--and I stopped some time with your father and mother, at theirhouse, Mr. Lauriston. In fact, your mother was remarkably kind tome--she nursed me through an illness with which I was seized when I wasin Peebles."

  Lauriston and Purdie exchanged glances--by common consent Purdie becamespokesman for the two.

  "Mr. Killick," he said, "it's precisely about a matter arising out ofthat illness of yours that we came to see you! Let me explain somethingfirst--Andie Lauriston here has been living in London for twoyears--he's a literary gift, and he hopes to make a name, and perhaps afortune. I've succeeded to my father's business, and I'm only here inLondon on a visit. And it's well I came, for Andie wanted a friend.Now, Mr. Killick, before I go further--have you read in the newspapersabout what's called the Praed Street Mystery?"

  The old gentleman shook his head.

  "My dear young sir!" he answered, waving his hand towards his books."I'm not a great newspaper reader--except for a bit of politics. Inever read about mysteries--I've wrapped myself up in antiquarianpursuits since I retired. No!--I haven't read about the Praed StreetMystery--nor even heard of it! I hope neither of you are mixed up init?"

  "Considerably!" answered Purdie. "In more ways than one. And you can beof great help. Mr. Killick--when you left Peebles after your illness,you sent Mrs. Lauriston a present of two valuable rings. Do youremember?"

  "Perfectly--of course!" replied the old gentleman. "To be sure!"

  "Can you remember, too, from whom you bought those rings?" enquiredPurdie eagerly.

  "Yes!--as if it were yesterday!" said Mr. Killick. "I bought them froma City jeweller whom I knew very well at that time--a man named DanielMolteno!"