Читать книгу Netta - Fred M. White - Страница 8

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NETTA would certainly do what she had promised. It was a strange task to set a young girl, but nobody else could undertake it. There was no time to settle anything more, for Dr. Manning was looking round for his groom. Sir John Langworthy stood scraping the gravel with his foot in a perplexed way. Shocked as he was at the tragedy under his roof, he was chagrined as well. For Sir John was proud, and if he had known of this before, Falmer had never been a guest at Loudwater.

"I can hardly believe it possible," he murmured.

"Well, why not?" Manning asked. "Look at the scores of rich people in Society to-day of whom one knows nothing. There is no reason why this thing should be talked about; it is only known to us, and there will be no inquest, as the cause of death is so plain to a practised medical eye. Would you like to be quite sure, Sir John?"

"Yes," said Langworthy sharply, "I should."

"Then by all means come this way. Williams, what do you want?"

The latter question was asked of Masters, who had pressed eagerly forward. He gave Manning one quick look, and the latter nodded. The little by-play was lost on the rest of the group. Manning strode off towards the house.

"You had better come along, Williams," he said.

"Get one of the under-gardeners to hold the horses. I am asking my man to come along, Sir John, because he is under the impression that he can help us. He rather fancies that Falmer is a person whom he knew, some time ago, in a domestic capacity, eh, Williams?"

In Palmer's bedroom the blinds were drawn and only a dim light stole into the chamber of death. The stricken man lay as if peacefully asleep, his hands folded upon his breast. There was a faint, sweet smell in the room that Manning perceived for the first time. He threw up his head, and sniffed suspiciously.

"I did not notice this before. What do you suppose it is!"

"Flowers," Langworthy explained. "The window is open, and this room looks out directly over one of the conservatories where I have some tropical blooms. On a hot day like this, the lights of the conservatory are sure to be up, hence the smell."

Manning looked doubtful, but he pressed the point no further. He approached the bed and stripped the covering gently away, after which he proceeded to turn the body half over. Then he disclosed a series of criss-cross lines on the back of the dead man.

"There!" he whispered. "What did I tell you! Those marks could only have been made in one way. I have attended too many men who were being flogged to be deceived. That man must have been imprisoned for some very grave crime, or he had never been flogged at all. Are you satisfied now, Sir John?"

"I am convinced," Langworthy admitted. "Really, a most unpleasant thing! But what are we to do with the man?"

"You will have to bury him here," said Manning. "Nobody is likely to turn up yet. I allow it is very unpleasant, but it will have to be done."

"Then will you oblige me by making the necessary arrangements in Coalend?" Sir John said. It was plain that he was terribly annoyed. "I don't understand these things. One thing is very obvious—if Falmer was the rich man he claimed to be, a plentiful crop of relations are certain to turn up sooner or later, which may mean the exhumation of the body for purposes of identification. There is an old disused vault in the churchyard where the body may be laid for the present."

Manning nodded his approval of this suggestion, and Langworthy quitted the room abruptly.

"There is nothing to remain for?" Rayford asked.

"Nothing to keep you here, my dear fellow," Manning replied. "With the help of my man, I will just take a few measurements, so as to save trouble."

Rayford had nothing further to say, and quitted the room. Then Manning softly closed the door and turned eagerly to his companion.

"Well," he asked, "what is it! Do you happen to know this man?"

"I know him by sight very well indeed," Reggie Masters replied. "He was at Mr. Greening's house the night of the card party. He wasn't playing, but looking on over Lady Langworthy's cards. He was the kind of man you would not easily mistake."

"And that is all you have to say?"

"For the present, yes. The rest will be a matter for investigation."

"Pity we can't photograph him," said Manning thoughtfully. "Our cue is to try to get some more details out of young Greening, whose guest your man was that night. Masters, would you mind closing that window for me?"

Manning gave the direction abruptly as if an idea suddenly occurred to him. The scent of the flowers from the conservatory was growing more powerful. But though the window was closed the smell did not disappear, but gradually grew stronger. Manning's kindly face had become hard and stern.

"Look here," he whispered. "Something is going on that I can't get to the bottom of. Knowing your history, and being an old friend of yours, I am convinced that you ire the victim of a foul conspiracy. What smell is this?"

"Not flowers, certainly," Reggie Masters said with conviction. "It reminds me of some powerful new drug. And yet I seem to have smelt it quite recently."

Manning said nothing for a moment and was pensively gazing at the still figure on the bed. Meanwhile Masters was struggling with a confused set of recollections. Where had he smelt that strange sweet drug before!

"I've got it," he cried. "Miller's Circus! You recollect my telling you of that singular performance on the part of that queer fellow at Miller's. As you know, I am fond of strange types of humanity, and that man fascinated me. Many times since that circus has been in Coalend I have been to see that show, and a day or two ago I scraped acquaintance with the performer in question; he even did me the honour of taking a drink at my expense. Well, to make a long story short, that man smelt just like the drug in this room."

"I must see him," said Manning. "I mean to know that fellow. I shall feel greatly surprised if there is not some connexion between the two. Look here."

In a professional way Manning had been arranging the clothing about the dead man. His measuring had bared the arm of the corpse. High up on the forearm was a curious tattoo mark, not the usual bird or beast or weird fish, but a neatly pricked-in copy of a pair of dice in red-brown and the pips in flaming red.

"The strangest piece of work I ever saw," Manning said. "Now, what does it mean?"

Masters had nothing to reply, for he was busy searching the room. Nothing rewarded his search beyond a packet of postcards and some torn scraps of paper in the grate. These he hurriedly collected together and slipped into his pocket. There was a step outside, and Rayford came in.

"Haven't you done yet?" he asked.

Manning explained that they had just finished. With a sign to Manning, Reggie disappeared discreetly with the remark that he would walk the horses as far as the lodge gates. He assumed that Netta would follow him, and she did, under pretence of fondling the steeds.

"I suppose you have found nothing?" she asked.

Reggie proceeded to explain. But there had been no chance of a thorough examination, and he still felt convinced that the papers he needed were there. He had hoped to save Netta her gruesome task, but if she did not care to attempt it, why——

But Netta would not hear of anything of the kind. She had given her promise, and would go through fire and water for the sake of the man she loved. She was going to stay at Loudwater for another night, as she had a concert at Fairford, which was not far away, to-morrow, and Sir John had kindly suggested that a journey to London and back was unnecessary.

"I almost asked myself," Netta admitted. "One word in conclusion, as I see Dr. Manning coming. Don't come here more often than you can help. We have nothing to fear from Neil Jackman now, but Lucille Ganton may recognize you. What deep game these two are playing it will be our business to find out. But don't let that woman recognize you."