Mr. Grex of Monte Carlo

  CHAPTER XXIV

  HUNTERLEYS SCENTS MURDER

  The concierge of the Hotel de Paris was a man of great stature andimposing appearance. Nevertheless, when Hunterleys crossed the road andclimbed the steps to the hotel, he seemed for a moment like a manreduced to pulp. He absolutely forgot his usual dignified but courteousgreeting. With mouth a little open and knees which seemed to havecollapsed, he stared at this unexpected apparition as he came into sightand stared at him as he entered the hotel. Hunterleys glanced behindwith a slight frown. The incident, inexplicable though it was, wouldhave passed at once from his memory, but that directly he entered thehotel he was conscious of the very similar behaviour and attitudetowards him of the chief reception clerk. He paused on his way, a littlebewildered, and called the man to him. The clerk, however, was alreadyrushing towards the office with his coat-tails flying behind him.Hunterleys crossed the floor and rang the bell for the lift. Directly hestepped in, the lift man vacated his place, and with his eyes nearlystarting out of his head, seemed about to make a rush for his life.

  "Come back here," Hunterleys ordered sternly. "Take me up to my room atonce."

  The man returned unsteadily and with marked reluctance. He closed thegate, touched the handle and the lift commenced to ascend.

  "What's the matter with you all here?" Hunterleys demanded, irritably."Is there anything wrong with my appearance? Has anything happened?"

  The man made a gesture but said absolutely nothing. The lift hadstopped. He pushed open the door.

  "Monsieur's floor," he faltered.

  Hunterleys stepped out and made his way towards his room. Arrived there,he was brought to a sudden standstill. A gendarme was stationed outside.

  "What the mischief are you doing here?" Hunterleys demanded.

  The man saluted.

  "By orders of the Director of Police, monsieur."

  "But that is my room," Hunterleys protested. "I wish to enter."

  "No one is permitted to enter, monsieur," the man replied.

  Hunterleys stared blankly at the gendarme.

  "Can't you tell me at least what has happened?" he persisted. "I am SirHenry Hunterleys. That is my apartment. Why do I find it locked againstme?"

  "By order of the Director of the Police, monsieur," was the parrot-likereply.

  Hunterleys turned away impatiently. At that moment the reception clerkwho downstairs had fled at his approach, returned, bringing with him themanager of the hotel. Hunterleys welcomed the latter with an air ofrelief.

  "Monsieur Picard," he exclaimed, "what on earth is the meaning of this?Why do I find my room closed and this gendarme outside?"

  Monsieur Picard was a tall man, black-bearded, immaculate in appearanceand deportment, with manners and voice of velvet. Yet he, too, had losthis wonderful imperturbability. He waved away the floor waiter, who haddrawn near. His manner was almost agitated.

  "Monsieur Sir Henry," he explained, "an affair the most regrettable hashappened in your room. I have allotted to you another apartment upon thesame floor. Your things have been removed there. If you will come withme I will show it to you. It is an apartment better by far than the oneyou have been occupying, and the price is the same."

  "But what on earth has happened in my room?" Hunterleys demanded.

  "Monsieur," the hotel manager replied, "some poor demented creature whohas doubtless lost his all, in your absence found his way there andcommitted suicide."

  "Found his way into my room?" Hunterleys repeated. "But I locked thedoor before I went out. I have the key in my pocket."

  "He entered possibly through the bathroom," the manager went on,soothingly. "I am deeply grieved that monsieur should be inconveniencedin any way. This is the apartment I have reserved for monsieur," headded, throwing open the door of a room at the end of the corridor. "Itis more spacious and in every way more desirable. Monsieur's clothes arealready being put away."

  Hunterleys glanced around the apartment. It was certainly of a farbetter type than the one he had been occupying, and two of the floorvalets were already busy with his clothes.

  "Monsieur will be well satisfied here, I am sure," the hotel managercontinued. "May I be permitted to offer my felicitations and to assureyou of my immense relief. There was a rumour--the affair occurring inmonsieur's apartment--that the unfortunate man was yourself, Sir Henry."

  Hunterleys was thoughtful for a moment. He began to understand thesensation which his appearance had caused. Other ideas, too, werecrowding into his brain.

  "Look here, Monsieur Picard," he said, "of course, I have no objectionto the change of rooms--that's all right--but I should like to know alittle more about the man who you say committed suicide in my apartment.I should like to see him."

  Monsieur Picard shook his head.

  "It would be a very difficult matter, that, monsieur," he declared. "Thelaws of Monaco are stringent in such affairs."

  "That is all very well," Hunterleys protested, "but I cannot understandwhat he was doing in my apartment. Can't I go in just for a moment?"

  "Impossible, monsieur! Without the permission of the Commissioner ofPolice no one can enter that room."

  "Then I should like," Hunterleys persisted, "to see the Commissioner ofPolice."

  Monsieur Picard bowed.

  "Monsieur the Commissioner is on the premises, without a doubt. I willinstruct him of Monsieur Sir Henry's desire."

  "I shall be glad if you will do so at once," Hunterleys said firmly. "Iwill wait for him here."

  The manager made his escape and his relief was obvious. Hunterleys saton the edge of the bed.

  "Do you know anything about this affair?" he asked the nearer of the twovalets.

  The man shook his head.

  "Nothing at all, monsieur," he answered, without pausing from hislabours.

  "How did the fellow get into my room?"

  "One knows nothing," the other man muttered.

  Hunterleys watched them for a few minutes at their labours.

  "A nice, intelligent couple of fellows you are," he remarked pleasantly."Come, here's a louis each. Now can't you tell me something about theaffair?"

  They came forward. Both looked longingly at the coins.

  "Monsieur," the one he had first addressed regretted, "there is indeednothing to be known. At this hotel the wages are good. It is the finestsituation a man may gain in Monte Carlo or elsewhere, but if anythinglike this happens, there is to be silence. One dares not break therule."

  Hunterleys shrugged his shoulders.

  "All right," he said. "I shall find out what I want to know, in time."

  The men returned unwillingly to their tasks. In a moment or two therewas a knock at the door. The Commissioner of Police entered, accompaniedby the hotel manager, who at once introduced him.

  "The Commissioner of Police is here, Sir Henry," he announced. "He willspeak with you immediately."

  The official saluted.

  "Monsieur desires some information?"

  "I do," Hunterleys admitted. "I am told that a man has committed suicidein my room, and I have heard no plausible explanation as to how he gotthere. I want to see him. It is possible that I may recognise him."

  "The fellow is already identified," the Director of Police declared. "Ican satisfy monsieur's curiosity. He was connected with a firm ofEnglish tailors here, who sought business from the gentlemen in thehotel. He had accordingly sometimes the entree to their apartments. Thefellow is reported to have saved a little money and to have visited thetables. He lost everything. He came this morning about his business asusual, but, overcome by despair, stabbed himself, most regrettably inthe apartments of monsieur."

  "Since you know all about him, perhaps you can tell me his name?"Hunterleys asked.

  "James Allen. Monsieur may recall him to his memory. He was tall and ofpale complexion, respectable-looking, but a man of discontentedappearance. The intention had probably been in his mind for some time."

  "Is there any objection to my seeing
the body?" Hunterleys enquired.

  The official shrugged his shoulders.

  "But, monsieur, all is finished with the poor fellow. The doctor hasgiven his certificate. He is to be removed at once. He will be buried atnightfall."

  "A very admirable arrangement, without a doubt," Hunterleys observed,"and yet, I should like, as I remarked before, to see the body. You knowwho I am--Sir Henry Hunterleys. I had a message from your department aday or two ago which I thought a little unfair."

  The Commissioner sighed. He ignored altogether the conclusion ofHunterleys' sentence.

  "It is against the rules, monsieur," he regretted.

  "Then to whom shall I apply?" Hunterleys asked, "because I may as welltell you at once that I am going to insist upon my request beinggranted. I will tell you frankly my reason. It is not a matter ofcuriosity at all. I should like to feel assured of the fact that thisman Allen really committed suicide."

  "But he is dead, monsieur," the Commissioner protested.

  "Doubtless," Hunterleys agreed, "but there is also the chance that hewas murdered, isn't there?"

  "Murdered!"

  Monsieur Picard held up his hands in horror. The Commissioner of Policesmiled in derision.

  "But, monsieur," the latter pointed out, "who would take the trouble tomurder a poverty-stricken tailor's assistant!"

  "And in my hotel, too!" Monsieur Picard intervened.

  "The thing is impossible," the Commissioner declared.

  "Beyond which it is ridiculous!" Monsieur Picard added.

  Hunterleys sat quite silent for a moment.

  "Monsieur the Commissioner," he said presently, "and Monsieur Picard, Irecognise your point of view. Believe me that I appreciate it and that Iam willing, to a certain extent, to acquiesce in it. At the same time,there are considerations in this matter which I cannot ignore. I do notwish to create any disturbance or to make any statements likely tomilitate against the popularity of your wonderful hotel, MonsieurPicard. Nevertheless, for personal reasons only, notwithstanding theverdict of your doctor, I should like for one moment to examine thebody."

  The Commissioner of Police was thoughtful for a moment.

  "It shall be as monsieur desires," he consented gravely, "bearing inmind what monsieur has said," he added with emphasis.

  The three men left the room and passed down the corridor. The gendarmein front of the closed door stood on one side. The Commissioner produceda key. They all three entered the room and Monsieur Picard closed thedoor behind them. Underneath a sheet upon the bed was stretched thefigure of a man. Hunterleys stepped up to it, turned down the sheet andexamined the prostrate figure. Then he replaced the covering reverently.

  "Yes," he said, "that is the man who has called upon me for orders fromthe English tailors. His name, I believe, was, as you say, Allen. Butcan you tell me, Monsieur the Commissioner, how it was possible for aman to stab himself from the shoulder downwards through the heart?"

  The Official extended his hands.

  "Monsieur," he declared, "it is not for us. The doctor has given hiscertificate."

  Hunterleys smiled a little grimly.

  "I have always understood," he observed, "that things were managed likethis. You may have confidence in me, Monsieur the Commissioner, and you,Monsieur Picard. I shall not tell the world what I suspect. But for yourprivate information I will tell you that this man was probably murderedby an assassin who sought my life. You observe that there is a certainresemblance."

  The hotel proprietor turned pale.

  "Murdered!" he exclaimed. "Impossible! A murder here--unheard of!"

  The Commissioner dismissed the whole thing airily with a wave of hishand.

  "The doctor has signed the certificate," he repeated.

  "And I," Hunterleys added, as he led the way out of the room, "am morethan satisfied--I am grateful. So there is nothing more to be said."