Cleek: the Man of the Forty Faces

  CHAPTER XXVII

  For the next five or six weeks life ran on merrily enough for Cleek; somerrily, in fact, that Dollops came to be quite accustomed to hear himwhistling about the house and to see him go up the stairs two steps at atime whenever he had occasion to mount them for any purpose whatsoever.

  It would not have needed any abnormally acute mind, any process ofsubtle reasoning, to get at the secret of all this exuberance, thisperennial flow of high spirits; indeed, one had only to watch the letterbox at Number 204, Clarges Street, to get at the bottom of it instantly;for twice a week the postman dropped into it a letter addressed in anundoubtedly feminine "hand" to Captain Horatio Burbage, and invariablypostmarked "Lynhaven, Devon."

  Dollops had made that discovery long ago and had put his conclusionsregarding it into the mournfully-uttered sentence: "A skirt's got him!"But, after one violent pang of fierce and rending jealousy, was gratefulto that "skirt" for bringing happiness to the man he loved above allother things upon earth and whose welfare was the dearest of his heart'sdesires. Indeed, he grew, in time, to watch as eagerly for the coming ofthose letters as did his master himself; and he could have shouted withdelight whenever he heard the postman's knock, and saw one of theregulation blue-grey envelopes drop through the slit into the wire cageon the door.

  Cleek, too, was delighted when he saw them. It was nothing to him thatthe notes they contained were of the briefest--mere records of the stateof the weather, the progress of his little lordship, the fact that LadyChepstow wished to be remembered and that the writer was well "and hopedhe, too, was." They were written by _her_--that was enough. He gave somuch that very little sufficed him in return; and the knowledge that hehad been in her mind for the five or ten minutes which it had taken towrite the few lines she sent him, made him exceedingly happy.

  But she was not his only correspondent in these days--not even his mostfrequent one. For a warm, strong friendship--first sown in thoseante-Derby days--had sprung up between Sir Henry Wilding and himself andhad deepened steadily into a warm feeling of comradeship and mutualesteem. Frequent letters passed between them; and the bond of fellowshiphad become so strong a thing that Sir Henry never came to town withouttheir meeting and dining together.

  "Gad! you know, I can't bring myself to think of you as apolice-officer, old chap!" was the way Sir Henry put it on the day whenhe first invited him to lunch with him at his club. "I'd about as soonthink of sitting down with one of my grooms as breaking bread with oneof that lot; and I shall never get it out of my head that you're agentleman going in for this sort of thing as a hobby--never b'Gad! if Ilive to be a hundred."

  "I hope you will come nearer to doing that than you have to guessing thetruth about me," replied Cleek, with a smile. "Take my word for it,won't you?--this thing is my profession. I don't do it as a mere hobby:I live by it--I have no other means of living _but_ by it. I am--what Iam, and nothing more."

  "Oh, gammon! Why not tell me at once that you are a winkle stall-keeperand be done with it? You can't tell a fish that another fish is aturnip--at least you can't and expect him to believe it. Own up, oldchap. I know a man of birth when I meet him. Tell me who you are,Cleek--I'll respect it."

  "I don't doubt that--the addition is superfluous."

  "Then who are you? What are you, Cleek? Eh?"

  "What you have called me--'Cleek.' Cleek the detective, Cleek of theForty Faces, if you prefer it; but just 'Cleek' and nothing more. Don'tget to building romances about me merely because I have the _instincts_of a gentleman, Sir Henry. Just simply remember that Nature _does_ makemistakes sometimes; that she has been known to put a horse's head on asheep's shoulders and to make a navvy's son look more royal than aprince. I am Cleek, the detective--simply Cleek. Let it go at that."

  And as there was no alternative, Sir Henry did.

  It made no difference in their friendship, however. Police officer ornot, he liked and he respected the man, and made no visit to townwithout meeting and entertaining him.

  So matters stood between them when on a certain Thursday in midSeptember he came up unexpectedly from Wilding Hall and 'phoned throughto Clarges Street, asking Cleek to dine with him that night at the Clubof the Two Services.

  Cleek accepted the invitation gladly and was not a little surprised onarriving to find that, in this instance, dinner was to be served in alittle private room and that a third party was also to partake of it.

  "Dear chap, pardon me for taking you unawares," said Sir Henry, as Cleekentered the private room and found himself in the presence of adecidedly military-looking man long past middle life, "but the fact isthat immediately after I had telephoned you, I encountered a friend anda--er--peculiar circumstance arose which impelled me to secure a privateroom and to--er--throw myself upon your good graces as it were. Let mehave the pleasure, dear chap, of introducing you to my friend, MajorBurnham-Seaforth. Major, you are at last in the presence of thegentleman of whom I spoke--Mr. Cleek."

  "Mr. Cleek, I am delighted," said the Major, offering his hand. "I haveheard your praises sung so continuously the past two hours that I feelas if I already knew you."

  "Ah, you mustn't mind all that Sir Henry says," replied Cleek, as heshook hands with him. "He makes mountains out of millstones, and wouldpanegyrize the most commonplace of men if he happened to take a fancy tohim. You mustn't believe all that Sir Henry says and thinks, Major."

  "I shall be happy, Mr. Cleek, if I can really hope to believe the halfof it," replied the Major, enigmatically--and was prevented from sayingmore by the arrival of the waiter and the serving of dinner.

  It was not until the meal was over and coffee and cigars had been servedand the too attentive waiter had taken his departure that Cleekunderstood that remark or realised what it portended. But even then, itwas not the Major who explained.

  "My dear Cleek," said Sir Henry, lowering his voice and leaning over thetable, "I hope you will not think I have taken a mean advantage of you,but I have brought the Major here to-night for a purpose. He has, infact, come to consult you professionally; and upon my recommendation. Doyou object to that, or may I go on?"

  "Go on by all means," replied Cleek. "I fancy you know very well thatthere is nothing you might ask of me that I would not at least attemptto do, dear chap."

  "Thanks very much. Well then, the Major has come, my dear Cleek, to askyou to help in unravelling a puzzle of singular and mystifying interest.Now you may or may not have heard of a Music Hall artiste--a sort ofconjurer and impersonator combined--called Zyco the Magician, who wasonce very popular and was assisted in his illusions by a veiled butreputedly beautiful Turkish lady who was billed on the programmes andposters as 'Zuilika, the Caliph's Daughter.'"

  "I remember the pair very well indeed," said Cleek. "They toured theMusic Halls for years, and I saw their performance frequently. They wereamong the first, I believe, to produce that afterwards universalillusion known as 'The Vanishing Lady.' As I have not heard anything ofthem nor seen their names billed for a couple of years past, I fancythey have either retired from the profession or gone to some other partof the world. The man was not only a very clever magician, but a masterof mimicry. I always believed, however, that in spite of his name he wasof English birth. The woman's face I never saw, of course, as she wasalways veiled to the eyes after the manner of Turkish ladies. Butalthough a good many persons suspected that her birthplace was no nearerBagdad than Peckham, I somehow felt that she was, after all, a genuine,native-born Turk."

  "You are quite right in both suspicions, Mr. Cleek," put in the Majoragitatedly. "The man _was_ an Englishman; the lady _is_ a Turk."

  "May I ask, Major, why you speak of the lady in the present tense and ofthe man in the past? Is he dead?"

  "I hope so," responded the Major fervently. "God knows I do, Mr. Cleek.My every hope in life depends upon that."

  "May I ask why?"

  "I am desirous of marrying his widow!"

  "My dear Major, you cannot possibly be serious! A woman of that class?" br />
  "Pardon me, sir, but you have, for all your cleverness, fallen a victimto the prevailing error. The lady is in every way my social equal--inher own country my superior. She _is_ a caliph's daughter. The titlewhich the playgoing public imagined was of the usual bombastic,just-on-the-programme sort, is hers by right. Her late father, Caliph AlHamid Sulaiman, was one of the richest and most powerful Mohammedans inexistence. He died five months ago, leaving an immense fortune to beconveyed to England to his exiled but forgiven child."

  "Ah, I see. Then, naturally, of course--"

  "The suggestion is unworthy of you, Sir Henry, and anything butcomplimentary to me. The inheritance of this money has had nothingwhatever to do with my feelings for the lady. That began two years ago,when, by accident, I was permitted to look upon her face for the first,last, and only time. I should still wish to marry her if she were anabsolute pauper. I know what you are saying to yourself, sir: 'There isno fool like an old fool.' Well, perhaps there isn't. But--" he turnedto Cleek--"I may as well begin at the beginning and confess that even ifI did not desire to marry the lady I should still have a deep interestin her husband's death, Mr. Cleek. He is--or was, if dead--the only sonof my cousin, the Earl of Wynraven, who is now over ninety years of age.I am in the direct line, and if this Lord Norman Ulchester, whom you andthe public know only as 'Zyco the Magician,' were in his grave therewould only be that one feeble old man between me and the title."

  "Ah, I see!" said Cleek, in reply; then, seating himself at the table,he arranged the shade of the lamp so that the light fell full upon theMajor's face while leaving his own in the shadow. "Then your interest inthe affair, Major, may be said to be a double one."

  "More, sir--a triple one. I have a rival in the shape of my own son. He,too, wishes to marry Zuilika--is madly enamoured of her, in fact; sowildly that I have always hesitated to confess my own desires to him forfear of the consequences. He is almost a madman in his outbursts oftemper; and where Zuilika is concerned--Perhaps you will understand, Mr.Cleek, when I tell you that once when he thought her husband hadill-used her, he came within an ace of killing the man. There was badblood between them always--even as boys--and, as men, it was bittererthan ever because of _her_."

  "Suppose you begin at the beginning and tell me the whole story, Major,"suggested Cleek, studying the man's face narrowly. "How did the Earl ofWynraven's son come to meet this singularly fascinating lady, andwhere?"

  "In Turkey--or Arabia--I forget which. He was doing his theatricalnonsense in the East with some barn-storming show or other, having beenobliged to get out of England to escape arrest for some shadytransaction a year before. He was always a bad egg--always a disgrace tohis name and connections. That's why his father turned him off and neverwould have any more to do with him. As a boy he was rather clever atconjuring tricks and impersonations of all sorts--he could mimicanything or anybody he ever saw, from the German Emperor down to aGaiety chorus girl, and do it to absolute perfection. When his fatherkicked him out he turned these natural gifts to account, and, havingfallen in with some professional dancing-woman, joined her for a timeand went on the stage with her.

  "It was after he had parted from this dancer and was knocking aboutLondon and leading a disgraceful life generally that he did the thingwhich caused him to hurry off to the East and throw in his lot with thetravelling company I have alluded to. He was always a handsome fellowand had a way with him that was wonderfully taking with women, so Isuppose that that accounts as much as anything for Zuilika's infatuationand her doing the mad thing she did. I don't know when nor where nor howthey first met; but the foolish girl simply went off her head over him,and he appears to have been as completely infatuated with her. Ofcourse, in that land, the idea of a woman of her sect, of her standing,having anything to do with a Frank was looked upon as somethingappalling, something akin to sacrilege; and when they found that herfather had got wind of it and that the fellow's life would not be safeif he remained within reach another day, they flew to the coasttogether, shipped for England, and were married immediately after theirarrival."

  "A highly satisfactory termination for the lady," commented Cleek. "Onecould hardly have expected that from a man so hopelessly unprincipled asyou represent him to have always been. But there's a bit of good in eventhe devil, we are told."

  "Oh, be sure that he didn't marry her from any principle of honour, mydear sir," replied the Major. "If it were merely a question of that,he'd have cut loose from her as soon as the vessel touched port.Consideration of self ruled him in that as in all other things. He knewthat the girl's father fairly idolised her; knew that, in time, hiswrath would give way to his love, and, sooner or later, the old man--whohad been mad at the idea of any marriage--would be moved to settle alarge sum upon her so that she might never be in want. But let me get onwith my story. Having nothing when he returned to England, and beingobliged to cover up his identity by assuming another name, Ulchester,after vainly appealing to his father for help on the plea that he wasnow honourably married and settled down, turned again to the stage, and,repugnant though such a thing was to the delicately-nurtured woman hehad married, compelled Zuilika to become his assistant and to go on theboards with him. That is how the afterwards well-known music-hall 'team'of 'Zyco and the Caliph's Daughter' came into existence.

  "The novelty of their 'turn' caught on like wild fire, and they were asuccess from the first, not a little of that success being due to themystery surrounding the identity and appearance of Zuilika; for, true tothe traditions of her native land, she never appeared, either in publicor in private, without being closely veiled. Only her 'lord' was everpermitted to look upon her uncovered face; all that the world at largemight ever hope to behold of it was the low, broad forehead and the twobrilliant eyes that appeared above the close-drawn line of her yashmak.Of course she shrank from the life into which she was forced; but it hadits reward, for it kept her in close contact with her husband, whom shealmost worshipped. So, for a time, she was proportionately happy;although, as the years passed by and her father showed no inclination tobestow the coveted 'rich allowance' upon his daughter, Ulchester'sardour began to cool. He no longer treated her with the sameaffectionate deference; he neglected her, in fact, and, in the end, evenbegan to ill-use her.

  "About two years ago, matters assumed a worse aspect. He again met AnitaRosario, the Spanish dancer, under whose guidance he had first turned tothe halls for a livelihood, and once more took up with her. He seemed tohave lost all thought or care for the feelings of his wife, for, aftertorturing her with jealousy over his attentions to the dancer, he took ahouse adjoining my own--on the borders of the most unfrequented part ofthe common at Wimbledon--established himself and Zuilika there, andbrought the woman Anita home to live with them. From that period matterswent from bad to worse. Evidently having tired of the stage, bothUlchester and Anita abandoned it, and turned the house into a sort ofclub where gambling was carried on to a disgraceful extent.Broken-hearted over the treatment she was receiving, Zuilika appealed tome and to my son to help her in her distress--to devise some plan tobreak the spell of Ulchester's madness and to get that woman out of thehouse. It was then that I first beheld her face. In her excitement shemanaged, somehow, to snap or loosen the fastening which held heryashmak, and it fell--fell, and let my son realise, as I realised, howwondrously beautiful it is possible for the human face to be!"

  "Steady, Major, steady! I can quite understand your feelings--canrealise better than most men!" said Cleek with a sort of sigh. "Youlooked into heaven, and--well, what then? Let's have the rest of thestory."

  "I think my son must have put it into her head to give Ulchester a tasteof his own medicine--to attempt to excite his jealousy by pretending tofind interests elsewhere. At any rate, she began to show him a greatdeal of attention--or, at least, so he says, although I never saw it.All I know is that she--she--well, sir, she deliberately led _me_ onuntil I was half insane over her, and--that's all!"

  "What do you mean by 'that's all'? The
matter couldn't possibly haveended there, or else why this appeal to me?"

  "It ended for me, so far as her affectionate treatment of me wasconcerned; for in the midst of it the unexpected happened. Her fatherdied, forgiving her, as Ulchester had hoped, but doing more than hiswildest dreams could have given him cause to imagine possible. In aword, sir, the caliph not only bestowed his entire earthly possessionsupon her, but had them conveyed to England by trusted allies and placedin her hands. There were coffers of gold pieces, jewels of fabulousvalue--sufficient, when converted into English money, as they werewithin the week, and deposited to her credit in the Bank of England, tomake her the sole possessor of nearly three million pounds."

  "Phew!" whistled Cleek. "When these Orientals do it they certainly do itproperly. That's what you might call 'giving with both hands,' Major,eh?"

  "The gift did not end with that, sir," the Major replied with a gestureof repulsion. "There was a gruesome, ghastly, appalling addition in theshape of two mummy cases--one empty, the other filled. A parchmentaccompanying these stated that the caliph could not sleep elsewhere butin the land of his fathers, nor sleep _there_ until his beloved childrested beside him. They had been parted in life, but they should not beparted in death. An Egyptian had, therefore, been summoned to hisbedside, had been given orders to embalm him after death, to send themummy to Zuilika, and with it a case in which, when her own death shouldoccur, _her_ body should be deposited; and followers of the prophet hadtaken oath to see that both were carried to their native land andentombed side by side. Until death came to relieve her of this ghastlyduty, Zuilika was charged to be the guardian of the mummy and daily tomake the orisons of the faithful before it, keeping it always with itsface towards the East."

  "By George! it sounds like a page from the 'Arabian Nights,'" exclaimedCleek. "Well, what next? Did Ulchester take kindly to this housing ofthe mummy of his father-in-law and the eventual coffin of his wife? Orwas he willing to stand for anything so long as he got possession of thehuge fortune the old man left?"

  "He never did get it, Mr. Cleek--he never touched so much as onefarthing of it. Zuilika took nobody into her confidence until everythinghad been converted into English gold and deposited in the bank to hercredit. Then she went straight to him and to Anita, showed them proof ofthe deposit, reviled them for their treatment of her, and swore that notone farthing's benefit should accrue to Ulchester until Anita was turnedout of the house in the presence of their guests and the husband tookoath on his knees to join the wife in those daily prayers before thecaliph's mummy. Furthermore, Ulchester was to embrace the faith of theMohammedans that he might return with her at once to the land and thegods she had offended by marriage with a Frankish infidel."

  "Which, of course, he declined to do?"

  "Yes. He declined utterly. But it was a case of the crushed worm, withZuilika. Now was _her_ turn; and she would not abate one jot or tittle.There was a stormy scene, of course. It ended by Ulchester and the womanAnita leaving the house together. From that hour Zuilika never againheard his living voice, never again saw his living face! He seems tohave gone wild with wrath over what he had lost and to have plungedheadlong into the maddest sort of dissipation. It is known--positivelyknown, and can be sworn to by reputable witnesses--that for the nextthree days he did not draw one sober breath. On the fourth, a note fromhim--a note which he was _seen_ to write in a public house--was carriedto Zuilika. In that note he cursed her with every conceivable term; toldher that when she got it he would be at the bottom of the river, driventhere by her conduct, and that if it was possible for the dead to comeback and haunt people he'd do it. Two hours after he wrote that note hewas seen getting out of the train at Tilbury and going towards thedocks; but from that moment to this every trace of him is lost."

  "Ah, I see!" said Cleek reflectively. "And you want to find out if hereally carried out that threat and did put an end to himself, I suppose?That's why you have come to me, eh? Frankly, I don't believe that hedid, Major. That sort of a man never commits suicide upon so slim apretext as that. If he commits it at all, it's because he is at the endof his tether--and our friend 'Zyco' seems to have been a long way fromthe end of his. How does the lady take it? Seriously?"

  "Oh, very, sir, very. Of course, to a woman of her temperament and withher Oriental ideas regarding the supernatural, _et cetera_, that threatto haunt her was the worst he could have done to her. At first she wasabsolutely beside herself with grief and horror; swore that she hadkilled him by her cruelty; that there was nothing left her but to die,and all that sort of thing; and for three days she was little betterthan a mad woman. At the end of that time, after the fashion of herpeople, she retired to her own room, covered herself with sackcloth andashes, and remained hidden from all eyes for the space of a fortnight,weeping and wailing constantly and touching nothing but bread andwater."

  "Poor wretch! She suffers like that, then, over a rascally fellow notworth a single tear. It's marvellous, Major, what women do see in menthat they can go on loving them. Has she come out of her retirementyet?"

  "Yes, Mr. Cleek. She came out of it five days ago, to all appearances athoroughly heart-broken woman. Of course as she was all alone in theworld, my son and I considered it our duty, during the time of herwildness and despair, to see that a thoroughly respectable female wascalled in to take charge of the house and to show respect for theproprieties, and for us to take up our abode there in order to preventher from doing herself an injury. We are still domiciled there, but itwill surprise you to learn that a most undesirable person is there also.In short, sir, that the woman Anita Rosario, the cause of all thetrouble, is again an inmate of the house; and what is more remarkablestill, this time by Zuilika's own request."

  "What's that? My dear Major, you amaze me! What can possibly have causedthe good lady to do a thing like that?"

  "She hopes, she says, to appease the dead and to avert the threatened'haunting.' At all events, she sent for Anita some days ago. Indeed, Ibelieve it is her intention to take the Spaniard with her when shereturns to the East."

  "She intends doing that, then? She is so satisfied of her husband'sdeath that she deems no further question necessary. Intends to take nofurther step toward proving it?"

  "It has been proved to her satisfaction. His body was recovered the daybefore yesterday."

  "Oho! then he is dead, eh? Why didn't you say so in the beginning? Whendid you learn of it?"

  "This very evening. That is what brings me here. I learned from Zuilikathat a body answering the description of his had been fished from thewater at Tilbury and carried to the mortuary. It was horriblydisfigured--by contact with the piers and passing vessels--but she andAnita--and--and my son--"

  "Your son, Major? Your son?"

  "Yes!" replied the Major in a sort of half-whisper. "They--they took himwith them when they went, unknown to me. He has become rather friendlywith the Spanish woman of late. All three saw the body; all threeidentified it as being Ulchester's beyond a doubt."

  "And you? Surely when you see it you will be able to satisfy anymisgivings you may have?"

  "I shall never see it, Mr. Cleek. It was claimed when identified andburied within twelve hours," said the Major, glancing up sharply asCleek, receiving this piece of information, blew out a soft, lowwhistle. "I was not told anything about it until this evening, and whatI have done--in coming to you, I mean--I have done with nobody'sknowledge. I--I am so horribly in the dark--I have such fearful thoughtsand--and I want to be sure. I must be sure or I shall go out of my mind.That's the 'case,' Mr. Cleek--tell me what you think of it."

  "I can do that in a very few words, Major," he replied. "It is either agigantic swindle or it is a clear case of murder. If a swindle, thenUlchester himself is at the bottom of it and it will end in murder justthe same. Frankly, the swindle theory strikes me as being the moreprobable; in other words, that the whole thing is a put-up game betweenUlchester and the woman Anita; that they played upon Zuilika's fear ofthe supernatural for a purpose; that
a body was procured and sunk inthat particular spot for the furtherance of that purpose; and if thewidow attempts to put into execution this plan--no doubt instilled intoher mind by Anita--of returning with her wealth to her native land, shewill simply be led into some safe place and then effectually put out ofthe way for ever. That is what I think of the case if it is to beregarded in the light of a swindle; but if Ulchester is really dead,murder, not suicide, is at the back of his taking off, and--Oh, well, wewon't say anything more about it just yet awhile. I shall want to lookover the ground before I jump to any conclusions. You are still stoppingin the house, you and your son, I think you remarked? If you couldcontrive to put up an old army friend's son there for a night, Major,give me the address. I'll drop in on you to-morrow and have a littlelook round."