Читать книгу A Clue In Wax - Fred M. White - Страница 8

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Clifford Cheriton was, however, not destined to get clear of London quite as soon as he expected. On the face of it, all that he had to do was to hand in his resignation and take leave of his colleagues within the next seven days. But when he presented himself at Scotland Yard on the Monday morning his superior officer greeted him with the curt information that there was a rather important piece of work to be done and that he, Cheriton, must think himself exceedingly lucky to have part of it placed in his hands. He looked at Inspector Merrick in dismay.

"Well, what is biting you now?" the latter rasped. He was one of the older school that is fast dying out and believed in direct methods. A man of little education who had obtained his present post partly by influence and partly by a sort of dogged determination which had often led him to follow up successfully a clue that cleverer men had abandoned. "You look at me as if I had done you a mischief, instead of putting a real class job in your way. What's the matter with you?"

"Oh, nothing," Clifford said. "Only I came up this morning on purpose to tell you that I was leaving in a week."

"Oh, did you?" Merrick snorted. "That more or less depends upon you, my lad. Come into a fortune or something of that sort? Or getting tired of hard work."

"Well, perhaps I have come into a fortune," Clifford smiled. "At any rate, I have prospects, and substantial ones, which make it possible for me to live very comfortably without working at all. At least, what you would call work. And if it is all the same to you, I should like to say good-bye to the Yard on Saturday."

"Well, you won't," Merrick snapped. "At least, not until you can get to the bottom of a bit of business in connection with a strange affair at the Grand Park Hotel. We can't have chaps like you coming in at a moment's notice and wanting to go. Now, look here, Cheriton, I don't want to stand in your way and I don't want to appear nasty, but, with one thing and another, we are bunged up here and there is nobody I can think of who can take your place. If you hadn't been for about a year in America, the assignment would have gone elsewhere. But there is not anybody just now who knows the States, and that is where you come in. If you can get the thing through within a week, well, then, you can pack up and quit. Or perhaps you might get it far enough advanced and leave somebody else to round it off. But you are not going to leave us in the lurch in this casual way."

"I don't want to," Clifford retorted. "It is rather a nuisance, but still, I am at your disposal and there is no occasion to say any more about it. What's the idea?"

"Well, it's like this," said a slightly mollified Merrick. "There is an American woman staying at the Grand Park Hotel who rang us up last night saying that she had been robbed of a whole lot of jewels. It appears that, instead of handing them in to the office of the hotel, as she ought to have done, she kept them in a small steel-lined trunk concealed under a false bottom. At least, that is what she says, and I am bound to confess that the list she supplied us tallies with certain purchases she made from time to time at Tiffany's in New York. We have more or less proved that by telephone. Fine thing, that Atlantic telephone, eh? A bit expensive, but likely to prove useful to us in the long run. But I am getting away from the point. I have seen this lady and I am inclined to think that she is telling the truth. She has been staying where she is for the last fortnight, and when I heard that she hadn't paid her bill because she had not received certain remittances from New York, I thought it was a put-up thing. She told me that she had pawned a diamond ornament in the Strand, seeing that she had run out of funds, and when I came to inquire into that she was sure enough telling the truth. I have never heard of her before, but she says she is well known on the other side of the water as a vaudeville actress."

"What is her name?" Cheriton asked.

"Name of Nance Carey."

"You don't say?" Cheriton exclaimed. "I know all about her. At least, all about her that is necessary for my purpose. She is not quite in the first flight, but very near it. I happened to come across her in America, and she was introduced to me by a man high up in the police force. She started life somewhere in the wilds of Arizona, where she lived the life of a cowboy. She can ride and shoot with the best of them, and I believe that she knows all the mining camps in the Northwest, because she played in what the Yankees call one-hoss towns all over the mining district, when she went on the stage. Exceedingly good-looking and smart as they make 'em, But clever in an unscrupulous sort of way and always ready to turn admiration to account. But what on earth is she doing in England?"

"I asked her that," Merrick replied, "and I didn't get a particularly satisfactory reply. However, that is nothing to do with the case. I want you to go down and see her and get her own story, and, afterwards, see what you can do for her. In the meantime, she is more or less in pawn in her hotel."

Swallowing his disappointment as best he might, Cheriton went off to the Grand Park Hotel, and, a little later, found himself seated in the private sitting-room of the bereaved actress. He remembered her perfectly, but he was not altogether displeased when he found that their recognition was not mutual. Miss Carey did not even call his name to mind when he mentioned it. She looked up from the card he had given her and favoured him with one of her celebrated smiles.

"So you are Sergeant Clifford Cheriton," she asked. "Come to help me in my trouble. Well, I should say we shall get on very well together. You look more like a gentleman than a policeman."

"I suppose it is possible to be both," Cheriton smiled.

"Not in America, not there by a whole street," the actress smiled. "Leastwhile, there may be exceptions, but I never met them. Now, you just sit down on that settee and we'll have a heart-to-heart talk. It's like this. I thought I would quit for a few months and take a long vacation. I have had a pretty hard life and I want to lie on the shelf, sonny. So I packed up my grip and I came East on the first Cunarder I could catch. Then I stayed in Paris for a few weeks, and when I landed in England I was what you call broke to the world. But there were funds waiting for me in New York, and I cabled for a remittance. It didn't come, because my business man had gone off to California for a spell, so I had to do the best I could till he got back. But it was darned awkward, because I had no friends on this side and only a few cents in my wallet."

"That must have been very distressing," Clifford murmured.

"I'll tell the world it was. And me stranded in England with nothing but my name to go on, and putting up at a swell hotel like this where my suite alone costs me a hundred dollars a week. Now, I ain't saying that is an extortionate charge, but it is pretty salty when you have got nothing but a few dimes in your pocket."

"Quite a new experience for you, I suppose?"

"Well, it is and it isn't. I have known the times out West when I have had to lie in bed for the best part of two days waiting for a square meal. And I have been out on the prairie with nothing between me and starvation besides a hunk of stale bread and a bit of dried meat. But I wasn't worrying much, because I know my remittances will come along in a day or two, now. So I just slipped out a day or two ago and put a diamond bracelet in soak. That gave me about a hundred dollars to carry on with, but it didn't pay my bill or anything like it. So I told the manager of this hotel exactly how I stood, and I guess he had to make the best of it."

All this with a dazzling smile and a flash of white teeth, just as if the actress was relating some pleasing experience.

"It would have been better, perhaps," Clifford suggested, "if you had handed your jewel case to the manager and asked him to put it in the hotel safe."

"Yes, we can all be wise when it is too late, can't we? Between you and me, I did show him a few of my pretty things, and I guess that satisfied him that I wasn't just an impostor. But when he hinted that I might let him take care of those diamonds, I told him that they were safer with me, and that was what you call the end of the first chapter."

"You mean that you kept them in your own possession?"

"I guess I did. Now, I am not going to say a word against the manager of the hotel, because my experience is that those sort of people don't talk, and, again, he gave me good advice, which I was foolish enough to ignore. And why? Well, I'll tell you. I have got a sort of suitcase that isn't altogether a suitcase as much as a light safe. Cane on the outside and the lining, metal. Just the sort of thing no one would take any notice of because it looks like the kind of case a woman would keep odds and ends in. And in that case is a false bottom, and in that false bottom I kept all my jools. Sounds a bit like the house that Jack built, doesn't it? Now, I put that case in my dressing-room and locked it away in a wardrobe. I know the contents were safe the night before last, because I looked to see. You understand I was contemplating another deal with my friend the pawnbroker in the Strand, and I picked out an emerald clasp that seemed to suit my purpose. A few hours later—just after breakfast, as a matter of fact—I decided to change the emerald for a ruby, and then I found what had happened."

"Everything had vanished, in fact?"

"Every blessed bit. And, mind you, the lock hadn't been forced, neither had the lock of my dressing-room door. And if you gave me all the money in all the world, I couldn't give the ghost of a guess as to how the thief found out that I was carrying my jools in that case or that there was a false bottom to it. Anyway, the jay got away with the lot, and now I have only got a few dollars till I hear from America. I have given the manager of the hotel an address in New York he can call up by that new Atlantic telephone service so as to establish my respectability or whatever you like to call it, and I believe he is going to do so. But that has got nothing to do with you, Mr. Detective. Your business is to find out where my jools have gone and how they were taken. I tell you I was real hopping mad when I made that discovery of my loss, because I have just got to sit here cooling my heels and reading the newspapers till I hear from my business man in New York. It may be a week longer. Meanwhile, I am just like a pampered canary in a golden cage without the means to open the door. Say, can't you help me?"

"I will do my best," Cheriton said. "Now, first of all, have you told anybody about your loss?"

"I guess I am not that sort of mammy's girl," Miss Carey dimpled. "I never squealed, even when I saw that there was nothing in the bottom of the cage. I just rang the bell quietly for the manager and told him what had happened. He is a wise guy, and I quite agreed with him that not a single word of this should be spoken to anybody but the police. I don't think there is a person in the hotel who knows that I have been robbed."

"So much the better," Cheriton replied. "All you can do for the moment is to make the best of your loss and your unfortunate position. Meanwhile, I will go and interview the manager and come back to you when I have anything to report."

The manager of the Grand Park Hotel confirmed in every detail what Cheriton had just heard.

"I am afraid I can't help you, sergeant," he said. "At first I thought it was some new sort of trick that was being played upon me by a mere adventuress who found herself unexpectedly unable to meet her bill. But when I saw those jewels, I had to change my opinion."

"You are quite sure they were genuine."

"My dear, sir," the manager said impressively, "I have handled too much of that sort of thing in my time to be deceived. I should say that those gems were worth between twenty and thirty thousand pounds. I tried to persuade the lady to hand them over to me for safe custody, but I didn't worry much when she refused. You see, it was no funeral of mine. Besides, I gathered from the chambermaid who looks after the suite that Miss Carey's wardrobe is worth almost as much as her jewels. And when I had a satisfactory reply from New York, of course I didn't worry any more about it. So if you imagine that this is a case in which the manager of the hotel bought a gold brick, you are entirely mistaken. I have every reason to believe that Miss Carey is one of America's leading actresses."

"Well, not quite that," Cheriton demurred. "But she has a big reputation in the musical comedy line. When we met just now I didn't remind her that it wasn't the first time that we had been face to face, but, as a matter of fact, I was introduced to her in New York, though she has entirely forgotten it. Mind you, I don't mind that, because it may prove very useful later on. What I should like to do now is to go through the register of your present customers. It is pretty obvious to me that the robbery was committed by somebody staying in the house, a visitor probably, or it may even be a servant."

"A servant, eh?" the manager asked. "Well, it is possible. We rather pride ourselves on our staff, but, considering that there are about a hundred and eighty of them, there is just a chance that one or more of these may be the guilty ones."

"Yes, I quite agree with you there," Cheriton said. "But I should be more inclined to gamble on a visitor. However, let us go through your more recent arrivals."

It was a long job, and late in the afternoon before Clifford had finished. There were well known people to be eliminated and others who were entirely beyond suspicion. But towards the bottom of the list there were individuals of whom no one knew anything, just the odd flotsam and jetsam that come and go in a great hotel, and then are heard of no more, Clifford made a mental note of some of these, and three sets of names he carefully entered in his pocket-book.

"I have got two lots here," he exclaimed, "that I should like to have a little conversation with. I don't say that any of them have anything to do with the trouble, but I should like to know what they were doing between twelve and dawn on the night of the robbery. You see, it is my business to look after the well-dressed thief. I mean the man or woman who is well educated and has all the outward signs of mixing with good society. As a matter of fact, a good many of them do mix with good society, because they have been born and bred into it. Others have acquired it by careful observation and a natural gift for that sort of thing. Here and there a man can do it, but it is a role in which women excel. If you ask me to give you an opinion, I should say that this job was the work of a man and a woman, the woman being already acquainted with Miss Carey. I must ask her presently."

"Then you think they were staying in the house?"

"I do," Clifford said. "And, what is more, the couple I suspect had a double bedroom on the same floor as Miss Carey's suite. It would be a very easy matter for the woman to see that the coast was clear while the man tackled the work. I suppose it is no uncommon thing for a visitor to have a bath at two or three o'clock in the morning. I mean, after they come in from dancing at a night-club, or something of that sort?"

"Oh, well," the manager explained. "A great hotel like this is something like a fair. People come and go at all times. And if a woman was seen going along the corridor at two o'clock in the morning on her way to the bathroom it wouldn't raise the slightest suspicion."

"That is just what I mean," Clifford said. "She could be playing about in one of the bathrooms in the middle of the night and keeping an eye open for interruption at the same time. Then the man could get to work, feeling pretty sure that his victim was fast asleep in her bedroom. Now, look here, Mr. Manager, what about these two?"

With that Clifford laid a finger opposite two names in his note-book, and the manager nodded as he did so.

"Yes, I see what you are driving at," he remarked. "Those people were here for one night and that the night when the robbery took place. I will make definite inquiries, but I think you will find that they came here for dinner and left by taxi after breakfast the following morning. The names are not familiar to me, and, in any case, they are probably assumed ones—presuming them to be the culprits."

"Well, if you don't mind. I should like to have a few words with the chambermaids and the hotel porter, and the waiter who looked after them at dinner and breakfast."

"I will call them if you like," the manager responded. "But the evening waiter has not come on duty yet. You can see the breakfast room waiter and the chambermaid."

"All right," Clifford said. "I dare say they will serve my purpose. Only don't allow them to think that the trouble is in any way connected with Miss Carey."

Within half an hour, Clifford had a fairly accurate description of the couple in which he was interested, and then he went upstairs again to see his distressed client.

"Well?" she asked eagerly. "Well?"

"It is not so easy as all that," Clifford smiled. "I think, however, that I have unearthed a likely clue. But before going any further, I want to ask you a pertinent question. And I am going also to suggest that you don't speak definitely until you are very satisfied that you are saying what is correct. I don't mean for a moment to infer that you will make any attempt to mislead me, but one forgets sometimes, Now did you ever tell anybody—anybody, mind—about your jewels?"

"Newspaper men and that crowd, say?"

"No, no. They, of course, would speak of your priceless gems and so on, because that is their business. I mean friends, especially lady friends liable to talk. Now did you never confide in some soul-mate, feminine, the story of the shabby case with the false lining? Think, think hard, Miss Carey."

Miss Carey thought until her forehead was lined and worn, and her flexible mouth grew stern.

"I had a maid once," she said, "who was with me for some few months before she got married and left me more or less in the soup, way back somewhere in the West. A New Yorker she was, and as cute as they are made. An imitative little cuss and a born mimic. Yes, Sadie Blunt might have known because she knew that I had my jools when on the road. But you don't suggest that Sadie after this long time came all the way on my tracks to put it over me like this when she could have done it out yonder."

"It does sound improbable, but you never know," Cheriton agreed. "And yet sometimes clever little mimics grow into still more clever crooks. And now, if you don't mind, perhaps you will be so kind as to show me the steel-lined case in which your gems were deposited. Finger-prints? Oh no; the class of people we are dealing with are not likely to work without rubber gloves."

Miss Carey seemed to be getting bored with the interview. She had no objection to the course suggested by Cheriton—all she wanted at the moment was to get out of the hotel into the fresh air on this lovely morning, and watch life in the park.

"If I can't join in it I can watch it," she sighed. "So you just nose around here as much as you like and if any miracle happens, 'phone me later."

Clifford wanted nothing better than to be left alone in that luxurious sitting-room with the suitcase to examine. This he proceeded to do as soon as Miss Carey had vanished. There was nothing in it but some letters and a couple of newspapers of a more or less remote date—American papers of the yellow variety. On the centre page of one of them was a photographic reproduction of two men and under it the cut line: "A Gross Miscarriage of Justice. The Leading Actors in the Test Case."

They were the two men Cheriton had seen at the Clarendon on the night that he and Evelyn Marchand had dined there!