The Passenger from Calais
CHAPTER VI.
[_The Statement of Domenico Falfani, confidential agent,made to his employers, Messrs. Becke and Co., of the PrivateInquiry Offices, 279 St. Martin's Lane, W.C._]
I propose, gentlemen, to set down here at length the story of mymission, and the events which befell me from the time I first receivedmy instructions. You desired me to pursue and call to strict account acertain lady of title, who had fallen away from her high estate andcommitted an act of rank felony. The circumstances which led up to herdisappearance and the partners of her flight are already well known toyou.
The only indication given me, as you are aware, was that I might takeit for granted that she would go abroad and probably by the mostdirect route to the South, to Switzerland and across the Alps intoItaly. My orders having only reached me in the early morning, thetheft having presumably been committed during the night previous toSunday, September 21, I was unable to ascertain through the touristagencies whether any and what tickets had been booked in thedirections indicated.
My most urgent duty then was to watch the outgoing Continental trains,the first of which left Charing Cross for Dover and Calais at 9A.M. I closely watched it therefore, and its passengers, andtravelled with it to Cannon Street, where I continued my search, butwithout result. I was greatly helped in my quest by the not unusualfact noticeable on Sundays, that travellers abroad are few in number.
I had no difficulty in satisfying myself that the lady and her partywere not in this train, and I returned at once to Charing Cross intime for the second Continental train, the 10 A.M.
I had resolved to book myself by that as far as Amiens, for I knewthat, once there, I should have reached a central point or junction, asort of throat through which every train moving southward to Paris orSwitzerland must pass.
There remained, of course, the route via Dover by Ostend and throughBrussels; but I had been informed by you that Ludovic Tiler, mycolleague and coworker, was to undertake the inquiry on that line.
It is part of my business to be thoroughly familiar with theContinental Bradshaw, and I soon ticked off the different trains thatinterested me.
There was first the 11 A.M. from Victoria by Dover andCalais, where it connected with the Paris express and the sleeping-carEngadine express, both of which run through Amiens, where, however,the latter branches off to Basle and beyond, with special cars forLucerne, Zurich and Coire.
Then came the 2.20 P.M. from Charing Cross to Folkestone, andso to Boulogne, Amiens and the rest, travelling the same road as theEngadine express. This was the last of the day service, as it gavemost time, allowing people to start at the very latest moment, and Ifelt it quite probable that my lady would prefer to take it.
I reached Amiens a little before 5 P.M., and I had a wait ofhalf an hour for the first express from Calais. I was greatlydisappointed when at last it appeared issuing from the tunnel, andpassed me where I stood at the commencement of the platform, takingstock of each carriage as it passed. The train seemed to be quiteempty; there were no passengers, so the officials, the conductors,informed me when I talked to them, sad and unhappy at the certain lossof tips. Only one of them had any luck, Jules l'Echelle, of theLucerne sleeping-car, who had one or two people on board.
I questioned him not very hopefully, but was agreeably surprised whenhe told me that his clients consisted of two ladies with a child, andone gentleman. English? Yes, all English. The lady, quite a lady, a_grande dame belle personne_, tall, fine figure, well dressed; hercompanion no doubt her servant; the child, well, an ordinary child, aninfant in arms. What would you?
I had them, I felt sure. There could be no mistaking this description.I held them in the hollow of my hand. Here they were in this car, andit would be all my own fault if they escaped me. It would be necessaryonly to verify my conclusions, to identify the lady according to thedescription and photograph given me. For the rest I knew what to do.
But now a quite unexpected difficulty turned up.
As I have said, there was one other passenger, a gentleman, in thecar, and I felt it would be prudent to make his acquaintance. No doubtI could tell at the first glance whether or not he was an ordinarytraveller, or whether he was a friend and accomplice of the lady underobservation.
I regret to say that he met me in a very hostile spirit. I was atgreat pains to be affable, to treat him with all the courtlyconsideration I have at command, and I flatter myself that in thematter of tact and good-breeding I do not yield to princes of theblood royal. But my civility was quite thrown away. The man was anabsolute brute, abrupt, overbearing, rude. Nothing would conciliatehim. I offered him a cigar (a Borneo of the best brand, at 10s. thehundred), and he not only refused it, but positively forbade me tosmoke. There were ladies in the carriage, he said (this was the firstreference made to them), and, when declining to be ordered about, Iproposed to refer the question to themselves, he threw himselfviolently upon me and assaulted me brutally.
Fortunately the attendant came to my rescue or I should have beenseriously injured. He lifted me into my compartment very kindly, andacted like an old friend, as indeed he was, for I remembered him asthe Jules l'Echelle with whom I served some time back as an assistantat the Baths of Bormio.
It was, of course, clear to my mind that my assailant was associatedin some way with the lady, and probably a confederate. I saw that Imust know more about him, with the least possible delay, and as soonas Jules had left me, promising to return later and talk of old times,and the changes that had come over us since then, I ventured to lookout and get a glimpse of the other man, I will not call him gentlemanafter his conduct.
He was nowhere in sight, but I could hear his voice, several voices,talking together at the far end. No doubt he had joined his friends intheir compartment, and the moment seemed opportune to visit his. Itwas next to mine, and the door stood invitingly open. A few minutes,seconds even, would be enough to tell me something of his identity,perhaps all I wanted to.
At least he made no pretence at mystery; his light baggage lay about,a dressing bag, a roll of rugs, a couple of sticks and an umbrellastrapped together, all very neat and precise and respectable, and allalike furnished with a parchment tag or label bearing in plainlanguage all that I wanted to know.
His name was printed "Lieut.-Col. Basil Annesley," and his club, theMars and Neptune, that famous military house in Piccadilly.Underneath, on all, his destination was written, "Hotel Bellevue,Bellagio, Como." There could never be the least difficulty in findingthis person if I wanted him, as I thought likely. He was a blustering,swashbuckling army officer, who could always be brought to account ifhe misconducted himself, or mixed himself up in shady transactions.
In my great contentment at the discovery I had been wanting incaution, and I lingered too long on forbidden ground.
"You infernal scoundrel," cried some one from the door, and once moreI felt an angry hand on my shoulder. "How come you here? Explainyourself."
"It's all a mistake," I began, trying to make the best of it,struggling to get free. But he still held me in a grip of iron, and itwas not until my friend Jules appeared that I got out of the enemy'sclutches.
"Here, I say!" shouted Jules vaguely. "This won't do, you know. Ishall have to lodge a complaint against you for brawling."
"Complaint, by George!" he replied, shaking his fist at me. "The bootis on the other leg, I take it. How is it that I find this chap in mycompartment? Foraging about, I believe."
"Indeed no, Colonel Annesley," I protested, forgetting myself; and hecaught at it directly.
"Oho, so you know my name! That proves what I say. You've been messingabout and overhauling my things. I won't stand it. The man's a thief.He will have to be locked up."
"I'm not the only thief in the car, then," I cried, for I was now madwith him and his threats.
"I don't know what you're driving at, or whom you think to accuse; butI tell you this, my friend, that I shall call in the police at thenext station and hand you over."
I looked at
the conductor Jules, appealing for protection. I saw atonce that it would be terrible for me to have any trouble with thepolice. They could do me no harm, but I might be delayed, obliged toleave the train, and I should lose sight of the lady, possibly failaltogether.
Jules responded at once. "Come, come," he said. "You're talking big.You might own the whole train. Who might you be?"
"None of your confounded impudence," shouted the Colonel, as hepointed to one of the luggage labels. "That's who I am. It's goodenough to get you discharged before you're a much older man. And now Icall upon you to do your duty. I have caught this man under suspiciouscircumstances in the very act of rifling my effects. I insist upon hisbeing taken into custody."
"There isn't enough for that," Jules answered, still my friend, butweakening a little before this masterly army officer, and I felt thatI must speak for myself.
"And if you stop me I will have the law of you for false imprisonment,and bring heavy damages. You will be doing me a great injury in mybusiness."
"Precisely what I should like to do, my fine fellow. I can guess whatyour business is. Nothing reputable, I feel sure."
"I'm not ashamed of it, and I have powerful friends behind me. I amacting for--"
"Yes?" he asked me mockingly, for I had checked my tongue, fearing tosay too much.
"It is my affair. Enough that you will feel the weight of their handsif you interfere with me in carrying out their instructions."
"Well, anyhow, tell me who you are. I've a right to know that inexchange. You chose to help yourself to my name; now I insist uponknowing yours."
I told him, not very readily, as may be supposed.
"Domenico Falfani? Is that your own or a 'purser's' name? Come, youknow what I mean. It's part of your stock in trade to understand alllanguages, including slang. Is that the name he has given you?"--thisto the conductor. "Show me your way-bill, your _feuille de route_."
Jules at a nod from me produced it, and no doubt understood my reasonwhen in my turn I claimed to see it.
"I have a clear right," I insisted, overruling all objections raisedby the Colonel; and taking it into my hands I read the names aloud,"Colonel Annesley, Mrs. Blair, maid and child." I pronounced the namewith great contempt.
"You talk of purser's names," I said sneeringly. "What do you think ofthis? Blair, indeed! No more the woman's name than Smith or Jones, orwhat you please."
"Speak more respectfully of a lady," cried the Colonel, catching metightly by the arm.
"Lady? Oho! Don't, Colonel, drop it. At any rate, she is not Mrs.Blair; you may take that from me," I said as impressively as a judgeon the bench. "And what's more, Colonel, I wouldn't press charges youcan't substantiate against me, or I may hit back with another not soeasy to meet. Try to stop me at the next station, and I'll stop yourpal--ah, don't"--he had a cruelly strong hand--"your Mrs. Blair, andshe'll find herself in a particularly tight place."
"We'll see about that," said the Colonel, who kept a stiff face, butwas, I think, rather crestfallen. "I shall act as I think best.Anyhow, get out of this, both of you. This is my private berth, andyou are trespassing."