CHAPTER SEVEN
MR. AYLMORE
Spargo, keenly observant and watchful, felt, rather than saw, Bretonstart; he himself preserved an imperturbable equanimity. He gave a mereglance at the photograph to which Mr. Webster was pointing.
"Oh!" he said. "That he?"
"That's the gentleman, sir," replied Webster. "Done to the life, thatis. No difficulty in recognizing of that, Mr. Spargo."
"You're absolutely sure?" demanded Spargo. "There are a lot of men inthe House of Commons, you know, who wear beards, and many of the beardsare grey."
But Webster wagged his head.
"That's him, sir!" he repeated. "I'm as sure of that as I am that myname's William Webster. That's the man I saw talking to him whosepicture you've got in your paper. Can't say no more, sir."
"Very good," said Spargo. "I'm much obliged to you. I'll see Mr.Aylmore. Leave me your address in London, Mr. Webster. How long do youremain in town?"
"My address is the Beachcroft Hotel, Bloomsbury, sir, and I shall bethere for another week," answered the farmer. "Hope I've been of someuse, Mr. Spargo. As I says to my wife----"
Spargo cut his visitor short in polite fashion and bowed him out. Heturned to Breton, who still stood staring at the album of portraits.
"There!--what did I tell you?" he said. "Didn't I say I should get somenews? There it is."
Breton nodded his head. He seemed thoughtful.
"Yes," he agreed. "Yes, I say, Spargo!"
"Well?"
"Mr. Aylmore is my prospective father-in-law, you know."
"Quite aware of it. Didn't you introduce me to his daughters--onlyyesterday?"
"But--how did you know they were his daughters?"
Spargo laughed as he sat down to his desk.
"Instinct--intuition," he answered. "However, never mind that, justnow. Well--I've found something out. Marbury--if that is the deadman's real name, and anyway, it's all we know him by--was in thecompany of Mr. Aylmore that night. Good!"
"What are you going to do about it?" asked Breton.
"Do? See Mr. Aylmore, of course."
He was turning over the leaves of a telephone address-book; one handhad already picked up the mouthpiece of the instrument on his desk.
"Look here," said Breton. "I know where Mr. Aylmore is always to befound at twelve o'clock. At the A. and P.--the Atlantic and PacificClub, you know, in St. James's. If you like, I'll go with you."
Spargo glanced at the clock and laid down the telephone.
"All right," he said. "Eleven o'clock, now. I've something to do. I'llmeet you outside the A. and P. at exactly noon."
"I'll be there," agreed Breton. He made for the door, and with his handon it, turned. "What do you expect from--from what we've just heard?"he asked.
Spargo shrugged his shoulders.
"Wait--until we hear what Mr. Aylmore has to say," he answered. "Isuppose this man Marbury was some old acquaintance."
Breton closed the door and went away: left alone, Spargo began tomutter to himself.
"Good God!" he says. "Dainsworth--Painsworth--something of thatsort--one of the two. Excellent--that our farmer friend should have somuch observation. Ah!--and why should Mr. Stephen Aylmore be recognizedas Dainsworth or Painsworth or something of that sort. Now, who is Mr.Stephen Aylmore--beyond being what I know him to be?"
Spargo's fingers went instinctively to one of a number of books ofreference which stood on his desk: they turned with practised swiftnessto a page over which his eye ran just as swiftly. He read aloud:
"AYLMORE, STEPHEN, M.P. for Brookminster since 1910. Residences: 23,St. Osythe Court, Kensington: Buena Vista, Great Marlow. MemberAtlantic and Pacific and City Venturers' Clubs. Interested in SouthAmerican enterprise."
"Um!" muttered Spargo, putting the book away. "That's not veryilluminating. However, we've got one move finished. Now we'll makeanother."
Going over to the album of photographs, Spargo deftly removed that ofMr. Aylmore, put it in an envelope and the envelope in his pocket and,leaving the office, hailed a taxi-cab, and ordered its driver to takehim to the Anglo-Orient Hotel. This was the something-to-do of whichhe had spoken to Breton: Spargo wanted to do it alone.
Mrs. Walters was in her low-windowed office when Spargo entered thehall; she recognized him at once and motioned him into her parlour.
"I remember you," said Mrs. Walters; "you came with the detective--Mr.Rathbury."
"Have you seen him, since?" asked Spargo.
"Not since," replied Mrs. Walters. "No--and I was wondering if he'd becoming round, because----" She paused there and looked at Spargo withparticular enquiry--"You're a friend of his, aren't you?" she asked. "Isuppose you know as much as he does--about this?"
"He and I," replied Spargo, with easy confidence, "are working thiscase together. You can tell me anything you'd tell him."
The landlady rummaged in her pocket and produced an old purse, from aninner compartment of which she brought out a small object wrapped intissue paper.
"Well," she said, unwrapping the paper, "we found this in Number 20this morning--it was lying under the dressing-table. The girl thatfound it brought it to me, and I thought it was a bit of glass, butWalters, he says as how he shouldn't be surprised if it's a diamond.And since we found it, the waiter who took the whisky up to 20, afterMr. Marbury came in with the other gentleman, has told me that when hewent into the room the two gentlemen were looking at a paper full ofthings like this. So there?"
Spargo fingered the shining bit of stone.
"That's a diamond--right enough," he said. "Put it away, Mrs.Walters--I shall see Rathbury presently, and I'll tell him about it.Now, that other gentleman! You told us you saw him. Could you recognizehim--I mean, a photograph of him? Is this the man?"
Spargo knew from the expression of Mrs. Walters' face that she had nomore doubt than Webster had.
"Oh, yes!" she said. "That's the gentleman who came in with Mr.Marbury--I should have known him in a thousand. Anybody would recognizehim from that--perhaps you'd let our hall-porter and the waiter Imentioned just now look at it?"
"I'll see them separately and see if they've ever seen a man whoresembles this," replied Spargo.
The two men recognized the photograph at once, without any prompting,and Spargo, after a word or two with the landlady, rode off to theAtlantic and Pacific Club, and found Ronald Breton awaiting him on thesteps. He made no reference to his recent doings, and together theywent into the house and asked for Mr. Aylmore.
Spargo looked with more than uncommon interest at the man who presentlycame to them in the visitors' room. He was already familiar with Mr.Aylmore's photograph, but he never remembered seeing him in real life;the Member for Brookminster was one of that rapidly diminishing body oflegislators whose members are disposed to work quietly andunobtrusively, doing yeoman service on committees, obeying every behestof the party whips, without forcing themselves into the limelight orseizing every opportunity to air their opinions. Now that Spargo methim in the flesh he proved to be pretty much what the journalist hadexpected--a rather cold-mannered, self-contained man, who looked as ifhe had been brought up in a school of rigid repression, and taught notto waste words. He showed no more than the merest of languid interestsin Spargo when Breton introduced him, and his face was quiteexpressionless when Spargo brought to an end his brief explanation--purposely shortened--of his object in calling upon him.
"Yes," he said indifferently. "Yes, it is quite true that I met Marburyand spent a little time with him on the evening your informant spokeof. I met him, as he told you, in the lobby of the House. I was muchsurprised to meet him. I had not seen him for--I really don't know howmany years."
He paused and looked at Spargo as if he was wondering what he ought ornot to say to a newspaper man. Spargo remained silent, waiting. Andpresently Mr. Aylmore went on.
"I read your account in the _Watchman_ this morning," he said. "I waswondering, when you called just now, if I would communicate with you orwith t
he police. The fact is--I suppose you want this for your paper,eh?" he continued after a sudden breaking off.
"I shall not print anything that you wish me not to print," answeredSpargo. "If you care to give me any information----"
"Oh, well!" said Mr. Aylmore. "I don't mind. The fact is, I knew nextto nothing. Marbury was a man with whom I had some--well, businessrelations, of a sort, a great many years ago. It must be twentyyears--perhaps more--since I lost sight of him. When he came up to mein the lobby the other night, I had to make an effort of memory torecall him. He wished me, having once met me, to give him some advice,and as there was little doing in the House that night, and as he hadonce been--almost a friend--I walked to his hotel with him, chatting.He told me that he had only landed from Australia that morning, andwhat he wanted my advice about, principally, was--diamonds. Australiandiamonds."
"I was unaware," remarked Spargo, "that diamonds were ever found inAustralia."
Mr. Aylmore smiled--a little cynically.
"Perhaps so," he said. "But diamonds have been found in Australia fromtime to time, ever since Australia was known to Europeans, and in theopinion of experts, they will eventually be found there in quantity.Anyhow, Marbury had got hold of some Australian diamonds, and he showedthem to me at his hotel--a number of them. We examined them in hisroom."
"What did he do with them--afterwards?" asked Spargo. "He put them inhis waistcoat pocket--in a very small wash-leather bag, from which hehad taken them. There were, in all, sixteen or twenty stones--not more,and they were all small. I advised him to see some expert--I mentionedStreeter's to him. Now, I can tell you how he got hold of Mr. Breton'saddress."
The two young men pricked up their ears. Spargo unconsciously tightenedhis hold on the pencil with which he was making notes.
"He got it from me," continued Mr. Aylmore. "The handwriting on thescrap of paper is mine, hurriedly scrawled. He wanted legal advice. AsI knew very little about lawyers, I told him that if he called on Mr.Breton, Mr. Breton would be able to tell him of a first-class, sharpsolicitor. I wrote down Mr. Breton's address for him, on a scrap ofpaper which he tore off a letter that he took from his pocket. By theby, I observe that when his body was found there was nothing on it inthe shape of papers or money. I am quite sure that when I left him hehad a lot of gold on him, those diamonds, and a breast-pocket full ofletters."
"Where did you leave him, sir?" asked Spargo. "You left the hoteltogether, I believe?"
"Yes. We strolled along when we left it. Having once met, we had muchto talk of, and it was a fine night. We walked across Waterloo Bridgeand very shortly afterwards he left me. And that is really all I know.My own impression----" He paused for a moment and Spargo waitedsilently.
"My own impression--though I confess it may seem to have no very solidgrounds--is that Marbury was decoyed to where he was found, and wasrobbed and murdered by some person who knew he had valuables on him.There is the fact that he was robbed, at any rate."
"I've had a notion," said Breton, diffidently. "Mayn't be worth much,but I've had it, all the same. Some fellow-passenger of Marbury's mayhave tracked him all day--Middle Temple Lane's pretty lonely at night,you know."
No one made any comment upon this suggestion, and on Spargo looking atMr. Aylmore, the Member of Parliament rose and glanced at the door.
"Well, that's all I can tell you, Mr. Spargo," he said. "You see, it'snot much, after all. Of course, there'll be an inquest on Marbury, andI shall have to re-tell it. But you're welcome to print what I've toldyou."
Spargo left Breton with his future father-in-law and went away towardsNew Scotland Yard. He and Rathbury had promised to share news--now hehad some to communicate.