The House Opposite: A Mystery

  CHAPTER XV

  A SUDDEN FLIGHT

  One of the many things and people which I am sorry to say my newoccupation as Squire of Dames had caused me to neglect, was poor MadameArgot. On leaving the Derwents, I determined to call on her at once. Tomy surprise, I found Mrs. Atkins there before me. The poor Frenchwomanwas crying bitterly.

  "Look here!" I said, after we had exchanged greetings; "this will neverdo. My patient must not be allowed to excite herself in this way."

  "Ah, mais monsieur," she cried, "what vill you? I mus' veep; zink only;vone veek ago an' I 'appy voman; now all gone. My 'usban', 'e mad, andzey zay 'e murderer too, but I zay, No, no."

  Mrs. Atkins patted her hand gently.

  "Monsieur Stuah, 'e tell me to go," she continued, "an' I don' knowvere; me not speak English vera good, an' I mus' go alone vid peopleszat speak no French. Ah, I am a miserable, lonely woman," she sobbed.

  Mrs. Atkins consoled her as best she could, and promised to get her acongenial place. It was a pretty sight to see the dashing little womanin that humble bed-room, and I had never admired her so much. When shegot up to leave, I rose also, and, not wishing to pass through Mr.Stuart's apartments, we left the building by the back way. When we werein the street, Mrs. Atkins started to walk up town.

  "Are you going for a walk?" I asked.

  "Yes; it is much cooler to-day, and I really must get a littleexercise."

  "Do you mind my joining you?" I inquired.

  "I'd be glad of your company," she answered, cordially.

  "It's terribly sad about that poor woman, isn't it?" she said, as wesauntered along.

  "It is, indeed," I replied; "and the hospital authorities give no hopeof her husband's recovery."

  "I suppose there is no doubt that he killed the man?"

  Here we were again on this dangerous topic, and I glanced quickly ather, fearing a repetition of last night's attack.

  She noticed my hesitation, and laughed.

  "Oh, you needn't be so afraid of what you say. I ain't going to faintagain. I want to know the truth, though, and I can't see why youshouldn't tell me."

  "Well, if you insist upon it," I said, "here it is: I really don't knowwhether he is guilty or not; I have been convinced that he was tillvery recently, but Merritt (the detective, you know) has always beensceptical, and maintains that a woman committed the murder."

  "A woman," she repeated, turning her eyes full on me. "But what woman?"

  "Merritt refuses to tell me whom he suspects, but he promises to producethe fair criminal before next Tuesday."

  We walked on for about a block, when, struck by her silence, I looked ather, and saw that she had grown alarmingly pale. I cursed myself for myloquacity, but what could I have done? It is almost impossible to avoidanswering direct questions without being absolutely rude, and as I knewthe detective did not suspect her I really could not see why she shouldbe so agitated.

  "I guess I'm not very strong," she said; "I'm tired already, and thinkI'll go home."

  I wondered if my society had been disagreeable or, at any rate,inopportune, and had caused her to cut short her walk.

  As we repassed my house, I caught Mrs. Atkins peering apprehensively atit. I followed the direction of her eyes, but could see nothing unusual.

  When I got back to my office, I found that Atkins had called during myabsence; I was very sorry to have missed him, as he no doubt came toreport what Dr. Hartley had said about his wife.

  That night I was called out to see a patient, and returned home duringthe small hours of the morning. I was still some distance from my housewhen I distinctly saw the back door of the Rosemere open, and a muffledfigure steal out. I was too far away to be able to distinguish anydetails. I could not even be sure whether the figure was that of a manor a woman. I hastened my steps as I saw it cross the street, but beforeI had come within reasonable distance of it, it had disappeared roundthe corner.

  The next morning I was aroused at a very early hour by a vigorousringing at my bell. Hurrying to the door, I was astonished to findAtkins there. He was white and trembling. I pulled him into the room andmade him sit down.

  "What is the matter?" I asked, as I went to the sideboard and poured outa stiff glass of brandy, which I handed him. "Drink that, and you'llfeel better," I said.

  He gulped it down at one swallow.

  "My wife has disappeared."

  "Disappeared!" I repeated.

  He nodded.

  "But when?--how?"

  "I don't know. At dinner yesterday she acted queerly. The tears keptcoming to her eyes without any reason----"

  "Before you go any further," I interrupted him, "tell me if this wasafter the doctor had seen her?"

  "Yes, and he practically confirmed all you said. He laid great stress onher being spared all agitation, and advised a course of baths atNauheim."

  "Her tears, then, were probably caused by worrying over her condition,"I said.

  "I don't think so, for the doctor was very careful to reassure her, andI had not even mentioned that we were to go abroad. No, it was somethingelse, I'm sure." He paused. I wondered if anything I had said during ourshort walk had upset her.

  "I suggested going to a roof garden," continued Atkins, "and sheacquiesced enthusiastically, and after that was over she insisted on asupper at Rector's. It was pretty late when we got home, and we bothwent immediately to bed. Now, I assure you that ever since she faintedon Wednesday I have been most affectionate towards her. I had determinedto bury my suspicions, and my anxiety for her health helped me to do so.She responded very tenderly to my caresses, but I could see that shewas still as depressed as before, although she tried her best to hide itfrom me. I tell you all this so that you may know that nothing occurredyesterday between us that could have caused her to leave me, and yetthat is what she has done."

  He buried his head in his arms. I laid my hand on his shoulder.

  "Tell me the rest, old man."

  "The rest?--I woke up a short time ago and was surprised to find my wifehad already left the room. Wondering what could be the matter (for sheis usually a very late riser), I got up also. On the table beside my bedlay a letter addressed to me in her handwriting. I tore it open. Here itis," and he handed me a small pink note redolent of the peculiar scentwhich I had noticed his wife affected. This is what I read:

  MY DARLING HUSBAND:

  I must leave you. It is best for both. Don't think I'm going because I don't love you. It isn't that. I love you more than ever. It breaks my heart to go. Oh, my darling, darling! We have been happy, haven't we? And now it is all over. Don't look for me, I beg you. I must hide. Don't tell any one, even the servants, that I have gone, for two days. Oh, do oblige me in this. I have taken all the money I could find, $46.00, and some of my jewelry; so I shall not be destitute.

  Forgive me, and forget me.

  Your loving, heart-broken wife, LULU.

  After reading the note to the end, I stared at him in speechlessastonishment.

  "What do you think of that?" he asked.

  "Well, really, of all mysterious, incomprehensible----"

  "Exactly," he interrupted, impatiently, "but what am I to do now? It is,of course, nonsense her telling me not to look for her. I _will_ lookfor her and find her, too. But how shall I go about it? O my God, tothink of that little girl sick, unhappy, alone; she will die--" hecried, starting up.

  "Atkins," I said, after a moment's reflection, "I think the best thingfor you to do is to lay this case before Mr. Merritt."

  "What, the man who was mixed up in the murder? Never!"

  "You can hardly speak of a detective as being mixed up in a murder," Isaid. "Every celebrated detective has always several important casesgoing at once, one of which is very likely to be a murder. The reason Isuggest Merritt is that I have seen a good deal of him lately, and havebeen much impressed by his character as well as his ability. He is akindly, honourable, and discreet man, and that is more than can be saidfor the majorit
y of his fellows, and, professionally, he stands atthe very top of the ladder. You want to find your wife as quickly aspossible, and at the same time to avoid all publicity. You thereforemust consult a thoroughly reliable as well as competent person."

  "But if I go to Merritt and tell him that my wife has disappeared, Imust also tell of the strange way she has been behaving lately. Thatwill lead to his discovering that the murdered man was a friend of hers,and who knows but that he may end by suspecting her of complicity inhis death?--and I acknowledge that her flight lends some colour to thattheory."

  "My dear fellow, he has been aware for some time--since Monday, infact--that the dead man visited your wife the very evening he waskilled, and yet, knowing all this, he told me that Mrs. Atkins could notbe connected in the remotest way with the tragedy."

  "He said that!" exclaimed Atkins, with evident relief.

  "He did," I assured him.

  "All right, then; let's go to him at once."

  As soon as I was dressed we got into a cab and drove rapidly to Mr.Merritt's. We met the detective just going out, but he at once turnedback with us, and we were soon sitting in his little office. Atkins wasso overcome by the situation that I found it necessary to explain ourerrand. The detective, on hearing of Mrs. Atkins's flight gave a slightstart.

  "I wish I knew at what time she left home," he said.

  "I think I can help you there,"--and I told him of the person I had seenstealing from the building, and who I now believed to have been no otherthan Mrs. Atkins.

  "Half-past two," he murmured; "I wonder she left as early as that. Wherecould she have gone to at that hour! It looks as if she had arrangedher flight beforehand and prepared some place of refuge. Do you know ofany friend in the city she would be likely to appeal to in such anemergency?" he inquired, turning towards Atkins.

  "No," he replied; "whatever friends she has here have all beenpreviously friends of mine, and as she has only known them since ourmarriage they have not had time to become very intimate yet."

  After asking a few more pertinent questions, Mr. Merritt rose.

  "I think I have all the necessary facts now and will at once order thesearch started. I hope soon to have good news for you."

  We all three left the detective's house together, but separatedimmediately afterwards. Atkins, haggard and wild-eyed, went off to lookfor his wife himself. I had to go to the hospital, and Merritt offeredto accompany me there.

  "Well, what do you think of this latest development?" I asked.

  "I am not surprised."

  "Not surprised!" I exclaimed; "what do you mean?"

  "Just this: I have been expecting Mrs. Atkins to make an attempt toescape, and have tried to prevent her doing so."

  "How?" I inquired.

  "One of my men has been watching her night and day. He is stationed inyour house, and I am extremely annoyed that he has allowed her to slipthrough his fingers, although I must say he has some excuse, for shecertainly managed things very neatly."

  "But Mr. Merritt," I exclaimed, "do you now think Mrs. Atkins guilty?"

  He smiled enigmatically, but said nothing.

  "This is a very serious matter for me," I continued. "After what yourepeatedly said to me, I thought you scouted the probability of herbeing in any way implicated in this murder. It was on the strength ofthis assurance that I induced Atkins to confide in you. Had I known thatyou were having her shadowed I shouldn't, of course, have advised him toput his case in your hands. I feel dreadfully about this. It is exactlyas if I had betrayed the poor fellow. I must warn him at once."

  I stopped.

  "Don't do anything rash," he urged, laying a detaining hand on my arm.

  "But----"

  "I quite understand your feelings," he continued, looking at me with hiskindly blue eyes. "When I first heard the nature of your errand I felt agood deal embarrassed. But it was then too late. What I knew, I knew.I assure you, Doctor, that what I have heard this morning, far fromassisting me to solve the Rosemere mystery, will prove a positivehindrance to my doing so. I shall no longer feel at liberty to employruse or strategy in my dealings with the lady, and if I find her shallhave to treat her with the utmost consideration."

  "Do you think she murdered the man? Is she the woman whose name youpromised to reveal next Tuesday?"

  "I must decline to answer that question."

  I glanced at him for a minute in silence.

  "If I am not mistaken, this flight will precipitate matters," he wenton, reflectively. "If the right party hears of it, I expect an explosionwill follow."

  "Don't talk in enigmas, Mr. Merritt; either say what you mean or--" Ipaused.

  "Hold your tongue," he concluded, with a smile. "You are quite right.And as I can't say any more at present, I will say nothing. By the way,I hear Mrs. and Miss Derwent and Mr. Norman are in town."

  "Yes," I curtly assented. "Well, Mr. Merritt," I went on, abruptlychanging the subject, "I must leave you now. I am very much upset byyour attitude towards Mrs. Atkins. I am not yet sure that I shall nottell her husband. Together, we may perhaps prevent her falling into yourhands."

  The detective smiled indulgently as we parted. I saw now all the harmI had done. Poor Mrs. Atkins had feared from the first that she mightbe suspected, and having discovered that she was being watched, hadnaturally been unwilling to leave the protection of her own home. WhenArgot was arrested she thought all danger was over, till I stupidlyblurted out that the detective was stalking a woman, not a man. Then shefled. And she chose the middle of the night, reasoning, no doubt, thatat that hour the sleuth would most likely be off his guard. Since I hadknown her and her husband better, I could no longer suspect her, andI now tried to remember all the arguments Merritt had formerly usedto prove her innocence. Foolish she might have been, but criminal,never,--I concluded. And it was I who had put her enemies on her track!