The Avenger by E. Phillips Oppenheim
CHAPTER XXXII
AT THE HOTEL SPLENDIDE
"I asked you," the Baron remarked, helping himself to _hors d'oeuvres,_"to dine with me here, because I fancy that the little inn at St. Etarpeis being closely watched. Always when one has private matters to discuss,I believe in a certain amount of publicity. Here we are in a quietcorner, it is true, but we are surrounded by several hundreds of otherpeople. They are far too occupied with their own affairs to watch us. Itis the last place, for instance, where our friend from Mexonia woulddream of looking for us."
The three men were seated at a small round table in the greatdining-room of the _Hotel Splendide_ of Dinant-on-Sea. The season was atits height, and the room was full. On every side they were surrounded bychattering groups of English tourists and French holiday makers. Outsideon the promenade a band was playing, and a leisurely crowd was passingback and forth.
"The lady whom we will continue, if you please, to call Madame deMelbain," the Baron continued, "has desired me to take you two gentlemeninto our entire confidence. You are both aware that for eighteen monthsthe suit for divorce brought by that lady's husband has been before aspecial court."
"One understands," Wrayson remarked, "that the sympathies of all Europeare with--the lady."
The Baron bowed.
"Entirely. Her cause, too, is the popular one in Mexonia. It is theministry and the aristocracy who are on the other side. These are anxiousfor an alliance which will safeguard Mexonia from certain dangers towhich she is at present exposed. Madame de Melbain, as you are bothaware, comes from one of the oldest families of Europe, but it is afamily without any political significance. The betrothal was completedbefore Frederick stood so near to the throne. If his accession had seemedeven a likely thing at the time, it would not have been sanctioned. Ispeak as the staunch friend of the lady whose cause is so dear to us, butI wish you to grasp the facts."
There was a brief pause whilst a fresh course was served by an apologeticand breathless waiter. The three men spoke together for a while on somechance subject. Then, when they were alone, the Baron continued.
"The court, although powerful influences were at work, found itselfunable to pronounce the decree which those in authority so much desired.All that those who were behind the scenes could do was to keep the caseopen, hoping that while living apart from her husband some triflingindiscretion on the part of Madame would afford them a pretext for givingthe desired verdict. I need not say that, up to the present, no suchindiscretion has occurred. But all the time we have been on the brink ofa volcano!"
"The letters!" Duncan muttered.
The Baron nodded.
"About a year ago," he said, "Madame de Melbain received a terrifyingletter from the miscreant into whose hands they had fallen. Madame verywisely made a confidant of me, and, with the Baroness de Sturm, I leftat once for London, and saw this man. I very soon persuaded myself thathe had the letters and that he knew their value. He asked a sum for themwhich it was utterly unable for us to pay."
"Did he explain," Duncan asked, "how they came into his hands?"
"He said that they were picked up on the battlefield of Colenso atfirst," the Baron declared. "Afterwards he was brutally frank. You seeyour death was gazetted, a fact of which he was no doubt aware. Headmitted that they had been given to him to destroy."
Duncan leaned across the table.
"Baron," he said, "who killed that man? He cheated me of my task, but Ishould like to know who it was."
"So would a great many more of us," the Baron answered. "The fact is, weare in the curious position of having an unknown friend."
"An unknown friend?" Duncan repeated.
The Baron nodded.
"We paid that man two thousand a year," he said, "but he was notsatisfied. He communicated secretly with the other side, and they agreedto buy the letters for ten thousand pounds. We knew the very night whenhe had arranged to hand them over to a man named Bentham in London. Butwe were powerless. We could not have found the half of ten thousandpounds. One thing only was tried, and that very nearly ended in disaster.An attempt was made to steal the letters. Mr. Wrayson will tell you aboutthat--presently."
A _maitre d'hotel_ paused at their table to hope that messieurs were wellserved. In a season so busy it was not possible to give the attention toevery one they would like! Was there anything he could do? Messieurs weredrinking, he noticed, the best wine in the cellars! He trusted that theyapproved of it. The young lady there with the diamond collar and thewonderful eyes? He bent a little lower over the table. That wasMademoiselle Diane, of the Folies Bergeres! And the gentleman? He hadregistered under another name, but he was well known as the Baron X----,a great capitalist in Paris!
The _maitre d'hotel_ passed on, well satisfied that he had interested thethree distinguished looking gentlemen who dined alone. Wrayson, as soonas he was out of hearing, leaned over the table.
"It is on that night," he said to Duncan, "that I come into touch withthe affairs of which our friend has spoken. The man Barnes had a flatcorresponding to mine on the floor above. I returned home about midnightand found a young lady, who was a complete stranger to me, engaged insearching my desk. I turned up the lights and demanded an explanation.She was apparently quite as much surprised to see me as I was to see her.It appeared that she had imagined herself in Barnes' flat. Whilst I wastalking to her, the telephone bell rang. Some unknown person asked me toconvey a message to Barnes. When I had finished she was gone. I sat downand tried to make head or tail of the affair. I couldn't. Barnes was adisreputable little bounder! This girl was a lady. What connexion couldthere be between the two? I fancied what might happen if she weresurprised by Barnes, and I determined not to go to bed until I heard hercome down. I fell asleep over my fire, and I woke with a start to findher once more upon the threshold of my room. She was fainting--almost onthe point of collapse! I gave her some brandy and helped her downstairs.At the door of the flat was a cab, and in it was the man Barnes,dead--murdered!"
The breath came through Duncan's teeth with a little hiss. One couldfancy that he was wishing that his had been the hand to strike the blow.The Baron glanced round casually. He called a waiter and complained ofthe slow service, sent for another bottle of wine, and lit a cigarette.
"I think," he said, "that we will pause for a moment or so. Mr.Wrayson's narrative is a little dramatic! Ah! Mademoiselle la danseusegoes! What a toilet!"
Mademoiselle favoured their table with her particular regard as shepassed out, and accepted with a delightful smile the fan which shedropped in passing, and which the Baron as speedily restored. He resumedhis seat, stroking his grey moustache.
"A very handsome young lady," he remarked. "I think that now we maycontinue."
"The girl?" Duncan asked quickly.
"Was your sister," Wrayson answered.
There was a moment's intense silence. Duncan was doing his best to lookunconcerned, but the hand which played with his wineglass shook.
"How--was he murdered?"
"Strangled with a fine cord," Wrayson answered.
"In the cab?"
"There or inside the building! It is impossible to say."
"And no one was ever tried for the murder?"
"No one," Wrayson answered.
Duncan swallowed a glassful of wine.
"But my sister," he said, "was in his rooms--she might have seen him!"
"Your sister's name was never mentioned in the matter," Wrayson said. "Iwas the only witness who knew anything about her--and--I said nothing."
Duncan drew a little breath.
"Why?" he asked.
"An impulse," Wrayson answered. "I felt that she could not have beenconcerned in such a deed, and I felt that if I told all that I knew, shewould have been suspected. So I said nothing. I saved her a good deal oftrouble and anxiety I dare say, and I do not believe that I interfered inany way with the course of justice."
Duncan looked across the table and raised his glass.
"I shou
"My silence," Wrayson said, "was really an impulse. There have been timessince when I have wondered whether I was wise. There are people now atwork in London trying to solve the mystery of this murder. I acted uponthe supposition that no one had seen your sister leave the flat exceptmyself. I found afterwards that I was mistaken!"
The Baron leaned forward.
"One moment, Mr. Wrayson," he interrupted. "You have said that there arepeople in London who are trying to solve the mystery of Barnes' death.Who are they?"
"One is the man's brother," Wrayson answered, "if possible, a morecontemptible little cur than the man himself was. His only interest isto discover the source of his brother's income. He wants money! Nothingbut money. The other is a much more dangerous person. His name isHeneage, and he is an acquaintance of my own, a barrister, and a man ofeducation."
"Why does he interest himself in such an affair?" Duncan asked.
"Because the solution of such matters is a hobby of his," Wraysonanswered. "It was he who saw your sister and I come out from the flatthat morning. It was he who warned us both to leave England."
The Baron leaned forward in his chair.
"Forgive me, Mr. Wrayson," he said, "but there is a--lady at your rightwho seems anxious to attract your attention. We are none of us anxious toadvertise our presence here. Is she, by any chance, a friend of yours?"
Wrayson looked quickly round. He understood at once the Baron's slightpause. The ladies of the French half-world are skilled enough, whennecessary, in concealing their profession: their English sister, if sheattempts it at all, attempts a hopeless task. Over-powdered, over-rouged,with hair at least two shades nearer copper coloured than last time hehad seen her, badly but showily dressed, it was his friend from theAlhambra whose welcoming smile Wrayson received with a thrill ofinterest. She was seated at a small table with a slightly less repulsiveedition of herself, and her smile changed at once into a gesture ofinvitation. Wrayson rose to his feet almost eagerly.
"This is a coincidence," he said under his breath. "She, too, holds ahand in the game!"