CHAPTER IV
At ten to the tick on the following night, he had said, and at tento the tick he was there--the old red limousine whirling him up tothe door in company with Mr. Narkom, there to be admitted by MissValmond's brother.
"My dear Mr. Headland, I have been on thorns ever since I heard,"said he. "I hope and pray it is right, this assistance we are giving.But tell me, please--have you succeeded in your plans? Are you surethey will not fail?"
"To both questions, yes, Mr. Valmond. We'll have our man to-night.Now, if you please, where is your sister?"
"Upstairs--in her own room--with my mother. We tried to get the materto bed, but she is very fractious to-night and will not let Roseout of her sight for a single instant. But she will not hamper yourplans, I'm sure. Come quickly, please--this way." Here he led themon and up until they stood in Miss Valmond's bedroom and in MissValmond's presence again. She was there by the window, her imbecilemother sitting at her feet with her face in her daughter's lap, thatdaughter's solicitous hand gently stroking her tumbled hair, andno light but that of the moon through the broad window illuminatingthe hushed and stately room.
"I keep my word, you see, Miss Valmond," said Cleek, as he entered."And in five minutes' time if you watch from that window you allshall see a thing that will amaze you."
"You have run the wretched man down, then, Mr. Headland?"
"Yes--to the last ditch, to the wall itself," he answered, makingroom for her brother to get by him and make a place for himself atthe window. "Oh, it's a pretty little game he's been playing, thatgentleman, and it dates back twenty years ago when he was kicked outof his regiment in Ceylon."
"In Ceylon! I--er--God bless my soul, was he ever in Ceylon, Mr.Headland?"
"Yes, Mr. Valmond, he was. It was at a time when there was whatyou might call a sapphire fever raging there, and precious stoneswere being unearthed in every unheard-of quarter. He got the feverwith the rest, but he hadn't much money, so when he fell in witha lot of fellows who had heard of a Cingalese, one Bareva Singh,who had a reef to sell in the Saffragam district, they made a poolbetween them and bought the blessed thing, calling it after the manthey had purchased it from, the Bareva Reef, setting out like aparty of donkeys to mine it for themselves, and expecting to pullout sapphires by the bucketful."
"Dear me, dear me, how very extraordinary! Of course they didn't?Or--did they?"
"No, they didn't. A month's work convinced them that the groundwas as empty of treasure as an eggshell, so they abandoned it,separated, and went their several ways. A few months ago, however,it was discovered that if they had had the implements to minedeeper, their dream would have been realized, for the reef was aperfect bed of sapphires--and eight men held an equal share in it.The scheme, then, was to get rid of these men, secretly, one by one;for one--perhaps two men--to get the deeds held by the others; topretend that they had been purchased from the original owners,and to prevent by murder those original owners from----"
"Got you, Miss Rosie Edgburn! Got you, Senor JuanAlvarez," rapped Cleek.... "Stop him, nab him, Mr. Narkom!"]
He stopped suddenly and switched round. Miss Valmond had risen andso had her mother. He was on the pair of them like a leaping cat;there was a sharp click-click, a snarl, and a scream, and one end ofa handcuff was on the wrist of each.
"Got you, Miss Rosie Edgburn! Got you, Senor Juan Alvarez!" he rappedout sharply; then in a louder tone, as the Reverend Horace made abolt for the door: "Stop him, nab him, Mr. Narkom! Quick! Played sir,played. Come in, Petrie; come in, Hammond. Gentlemen, here they are,all three of them: Lieutenant Eric Edgburn, his daughter Rose,and Senor Juan Alvarez, the three brute beasts who sent five mento their death for the sake of a lode of sapphires and the devil'slust for gain!"
"It's a lie!" flung out the girl who had been known as Rose Valmond.
"Oh, no, it's not, you vixen! You loathsome creature that prostitutedholy things and made a shield of religion to carry on a vampire'sdeeds. Look here, you beast of blasphemy: I know the secret of this,"he said, and walked over and laid his hand on the crucifix atthe head of the bed. "Petrie! round into the oratory with you.There's a nob at the side of the prayer desk--press it when I shout.Oh, no, Miss Edgburn; no, I shan't dance circles nor put my fingersinto my nose, nor bite the dust and die. Look how I dare it all. NowPetrie, _now_!"
And lo! as he spoke, out of the nostrils of the figure on the crossthere rushed downward two streams of white vapour which beat uponthe pillows and upon him, smothering both in white dust.
"Face powder, Miss Edgburn, only face powder from your own littlecase over there," he said. "I removed the devil's dust last nightwhen I was in this room alone."
She made him no reply--only, like a cornered wretch, screamed outand fainted.
"Mr. Narkom, you have seen the method of administering the thingwhich caused the death of those five men; it is now only fair thatyou should know what that thing was," he said, turning to thesuperintendent. "It is known by two names--Devil's Dust and Dust ofDeath, and both suit it well. It is the fine, feathery powderthat grows on the young shoots of the bamboo tree--a favouritemethod of secret killing with the natives of the Malay Peninsulaand those of Madagascar, the Philippines and Ceylon. When blowninto the nostrils of a living creature it produces first an awfulagony of suffocation, a feeling as though the brain is coming downand exuding from the nostrils, then delirium, during which thevictim invariably falls on his face and bites the earth; then comesdeath. Death without a trace, my friend, for the hellish dust allbut evaporates, and the slight sediment that remains is carried outof the system by the spasm of enteric it produces. That is theriddle's solution. As for the rest, those men were lured here byletters--from Alvarez--telling them of the reef's great fortune, ofthe necessity for coming at once and bringing their deeds withthem, and impressing upon them the possibility of being defraudedif they breathed one word to a mortal soul about their leaving orwhy. They came, they were invited to spend the night and to sleepupon that accursed bed, and--the devil's dust did the rest. I tracedthat out through poor Jim Peabody's sock. It was one of the blueyarn kind that are given to the inmates of workhouses. I traced himthrough that; and the others through the photographs. Each had beenknown to have received a letter from London, and each had in turnvanished without a word. Poor chaps! Poor unhappy chaps! Let ushope, dear friend, that they have found 'the Place of Sapphires'after all."