CHAPTER XX
NUMBER FIFTY-THREE
Chettle!--whom he had left only that morning in Hull, two hundred milesaway, both of them agreed that the next step was still unseen, and thatimmediate action was yet problematical. Something had surely happened tobring Chettle up to town and to him.
"Show Mr. Chettle up here at once," he said to the waiter. "Andhere--bring a small decanter of whisky and a syphon of soda-water andglasses. Be sharp with 'em."
He pulled on a dressing-gown when the man had gone, and, tying its cordabout his waist, went a step or two into the corridor to look out for hisvisitor. A few minutes elapsed; then the lift came up, and the waiter,killing two birds with one stone, appeared again, escorting the detectiveand carrying a tray. And Allerdyke, with a sly wink at Chettle, greetedhim unconcernedly, ushered him into his room and chatted about nothinguntil the waiter had gone away. Then he turned on him eagerly.
"What is it?" he demanded. "Something, of course! Aught new?"
For answer Chettle thrust his hand inside his overcoat and brought out asmall package, wrapped in cartridge paper, and sealed.
He began to break the seals and unwrap the covering.
"Well, it brought me up here--straight," he said. "I think I shall haveto let our people at the yard know everything, Mr. Allerdyke. But I cameto you first---I only got to King's Cross half an hour ago, and I droveon to you at once. Well see what you think before I decide on anything."
"What is it!" repeated Allerdyke, gazing with interest at the package."You've found something of fresh importance, eh!"
Chettle took the lid off a small box and produced Lydenberg's watch andpostcard on which the appointment in the High Street had been made. Hesat down at the table, laying his hand on the watch.
"After you left me this morning," he said, "I started puzzling andpuzzling over what had been discovered, what had been done, whether therewas more that I could do. I kept thinking things over all the morning,and half the afternoon. Then it suddenly struck me--there was onething--that I'd never done and that ought to have been done--I don't knowwhy I'd never thought of it till then--but I'd never had this photographout of the watch. And so I went back to the police-station and got thewatch and opened it, and--look there, Mr. Allerdyke!"
He had snapped open the case of the watch as he talked, and he nowdetached the photograph and turning it over, laid the reverse side downon the table by the postcard.
"Look at it!" he went on. "Do you see?--there's writing on it! You seewhat it says? 'This is J.A. Burn this when made use of.' You see?And--it's the same handwriting as that on this card, making theappointment! Here, look at both for yourself--hold 'em closer to thelight. Mr. Allerdyke--that was all written by the same hand, orI'm--no good!"
Allerdyke went close to the electric globe above his dressing-table, thephotograph in one hand, the postcard in the other. He looked searchinglyat both, brought them back, and laid them down again.
"No doubt of it, Chettle," he said. "No doubt of it! It doesn't need anyexpert to be certain sure of that. The same, identical fist, without ashadow of doubt. Well--what d'ye make of it? Here--have a drink."
He mixed a couple of drinks, pushed one glass to the detective, and tookthe other himself.
"Egad!" he muttered, after drinking. "Things are getting--hottish,anyway. As I say, what do you make of this? Of course, you've come tosome conclusion?"
"Yes," answered Chettle, taking up his glass and silently bowing hisacknowledgments. "I have! The only one I could come to. The man who sentthis photograph to Lydenberg, to help him to identify your cousin atsight, is the man who afterwards lured Lydenberg into that part of HullHigh Street, and shot him dead. In plain words, the master shot hisman--when he'd done with him. Just as he poisoned the Frenchwoman--whenhe'd done with her. Mr. Allerdyke, I'm more than ever convinced thatthese two murders--Lydenberg's and the French maid's--were the work ofone hand."
"Likely!" assented Allerdyke. "It's getting to look like it. But--whose?That's the problem, Chettle. Well, I've done a bit since I got back thisafternoon. You've had something to tell me--now I've something to tellyou. I've found out who it was that James gave the photograph to!"
Chettle showed his gratification by a start of pleased surprise.
"You have--already!" he exclaimed.
"Already!" replied Allerdyke. "Found it out within an hour of gettingback in here. He gave it"--here, though the door was closed andbolted, and there was no fear of eavesdroppers, he sank his voice to awhisper--"he gave it to Fullaway's secretary, the woman we discussed,Mrs. Marlow. That's a fact. He gave it to her just before he set offfor Russia."
Chettle screwed his lips up to whistle--instead of whistling he suddenlyrelaxed them to a comprehending smile.
"Aye, just so!" he said. "I was sure it lay somewhere--here. Fullawayhimself, now--does he know?"
"James gave it to her in Fullaway's presence," replied Allerdyke. "She'sa bit of a photographer, I understand--they were talking aboutphotography, I gathered, one day when James was in Fullaway's office, andJames pulled that out and gave it to her as a specimen of my work."
"All that came out in talk this afternoon?" asked Chettle.
"Just so. Ordinary, casual talk," assented Allerdyke.
"No suspicion roused?" suggested Chettle.
"I don't think so. Of course, you never can tell. I should say,"continued Allerdyke, "that she's as deep and clever as ever they make'em! But it was all so casual, and so natural, that I don't think she'dthe slightest idea that I was trying to get at anything. However, I foundthis much out--she couldn't produce the photograph. Said she'd taken ithome. Well--there we are! That's part one of my bit of news, Chettle. Nowfor part two. This woman's leading a double life. She's Mrs. Marlow asFullaway's secretary and here at his rooms and on his business; where shelives she's Miss Slade. Eh?"
Chettle pricked his ears.
"When did you find that out?" he asked. "Since you left me thismorning?"
"Found it out this afternoon," replied Allerdyke, with something oftriumph. He had been strolling about the bedroom up to that moment, butnow he drew a chair to the table at which Chettle sat and dropped into itclose beside his visitor.
"I'll tell you all about it," he went on. "You said at Hull yesterdaythat you'd always found Yorkshiremen sharp and shrewd--well, this is abit more Yorkshire work--work of my manager here in town--Mr.Appleyard. Listen!"
He gave the detective a clear and succinct account of all that Appleyardand his satellites had done, and Chettle listened with deep attention,nodding his head at the various points.
"Yes," he said, when Allerdyke had made an end, "yes, that's all right,so far. Good, useful work. The thing is--can you fully trust these twoyoung men--your chauffeur and his brother?"
"I could and would trust my chauffeur with my last shilling," answeredAllerdyke. "And as for his brother, I'll take my man's word for him.Besides, they both know--or Mr. Gaffney knows--that I'm a pretty generouspaymaster. If a man does aught for me, and does it well, he profits to anice penny!"
"A good argument," agreed Chettle. "I don't know that you could beat it,Mr. Allerdyke. Well, well--we're getting to something and to somewhere!Now, as you've told me all this, I'll just keep things quiet until I'vemet you and your manager to-morrow, with these two Gaffneys--we'll have aconference. I won't go near the Yard until after that. Eleven o'clockto-morrow, then, at your warehouse in Gresham Street."
He presently replaced the watch and the postcard in an inner pocket, andtook his leave, and Allerdyke, letting him out, walked along the corridorwith him as far as the lift. And as Allerdyke turned back to his ownroom, the third event of that day happened, and seemed to him to be themost surprising and important one of all.
What made Allerdyke pause as he retraced his steps along the corridor,pause to look over the balustrade to the floor immediately below his own,he never knew nor could explain. But, just as he was about to re-enterhis room, he did so pause, leaning over the railings and lo
oking down fora moment. In that moment he saw Mrs. Marlow.
A considerable portion of the floor immediately beneath him was fullyexposed to the view of any one leaning over the balustrade as Allerdykedid. This was a quiet part of the hotel, a sort of wing cut away fromthe main building; the floor at which he was looking was given up toprivate suites of rooms, one of them, a larger one than the others,being Fullaway's, which filled one side of the corridor; the otherswere suites of two, in some cases of three rooms. As he looked over anddown, Allerdyke suddenly saw a door open in one of these smallersuites--open silently and stealthily. Then he saw Mrs. Marlow look out,and she glanced right and left about her. The next instant, she emergedfrom the room with the same stealthiness, closed and locked the doorwith a key which she immediately pocketed, slipped along the corridor,and disappeared into Franklin Fullaway's suite. It was all over in lessthan a minute, and Allerdyke turned into his own door, smilingcynically to himself.
"She looked right and left, but she forgot to look up!" he muttered."Ah! those small details. And what does that mean? Anyway, I know whichdoor she came out of!"
He glanced at his watch--precisely half-past eleven. He made a note ofthe time in his pocket-book and went to bed. And next morning, risingearly, as was his custom, he descended to the ground floor by means ofthe stairs instead of the lift, and as he passed the door from which hehad seen Mrs. Marlow emerge he mentally registered the number.Fifty-three. Number fifty-three.
Allerdyke, who could not exist without fresh air and exercise, went for astroll before breakfast when he was in London--he usually chose theEmbankment, as being the nearest convenient open space, and thither henow repaired, thinking things over. There were many new features of thisaffair to think about, but the one of the previous night now occupied histhoughts to the exclusion of the others. What was this woman doing,coming--with evident secrecy--out of one set of rooms, and enteringanother at that late hour? He wanted to know--he must find out--and hewould find out with ease,--and indirectly, from Fullaway.
Fullaway always took his breakfast at a certain table in a certain cornerof the coffee-room at the hotel; there Allerdyke had sometimes joinedhim. He found the American there, steadily eating, when he returned fromhis walk, and he dropped into a chair at his side with a casual remarkabout the fine morning.
"Didn't set eyes on you last night at all," he went on, as he picked uphis napkin. "Off somewhere, eh?"
"Spent the evening out," answered Fullaway. "Not often I do, but Idid--for once in a way. Van Koon and I (you don't know Van Koon, doyou?--he's a fellow countryman of mine, stopping here for the summer,and a very clever man) we dined at the Carlton, and then went to theHaymarket Theatre. I was going to ask you to join us, Allerdyke, but youwere out and hadn't come in by the time we had to go."
"Thank you--no, I didn't get in until seven o'clock or so," answeredAllerdyke. "So I'd a quiet evening."
"No news, I suppose?" asked Fullaway, going vigorously forward with hisbreakfast. "Heard nothing from the police authorities?"
"Nothing," replied Allerdyke. "I suppose they're doing things in theirown way, as usual."
"Just so," assented Fullaway. "Well, it's an odd thing to me that nobodycomes forward to make some sort of a shot at that reward! Mostextraordinary that the man of the Eastbourne Terrace affair should havebeen able to get clean away without anybody in London having seen him--orat any rate that the people who must have seen him are unable to connecthim with the murder of that woman. Extraordinary!"
"It's all extraordinary," said Allerdyke. He took up a newspaper whichFullaway had thrown down and began to talk of some subject that caughthis eye, until Fullaway rose, pleaded business, and went off to his roomsupstairs. When he had gone Allerdyke reconsidered matters. So Fullawayhad been out the night before, had he--dining out, and at a theatre?Then, of course, it would be quite midnight before he got in. Therefore,presumably, he did not know that his secretary was about his rooms--andentering and leaving another suite close by. No--Fullaway knewnothing--that seemed certain.
The remembrance of what he had seen sent Allerdyke, as soon as he hadbreakfasted, to the hall of the hotel, and to the register of guests.There was no one at the register at that moment, and he turned the pagesat his leisure until he came to what he wanted. And there it was--inplain black and white--
NUMBER 53. MR. JOHN VAN KOON. NEW YORK CITY, U.S.A.