Collected works of j s f.., p.575
Collected Works of J S Fletcher, page 575
“Very early yesterday morning,” answered Rhona promptly. “By the 7.45 from Victoria. She was up at the Court by 9.30.”
Matherfield turned an utterly perplexed face on Hetherwick. Then he stared at Rhona.
“Up at Riversreade Court at 9.30 yesterday — Tuesday — morning!” he exclaimed. “Impossible! I saw her at Southampton at 9.30 yesterday morning with my own eyes.”
“I’m quite sure you didn’t!” replied Rhona, with a satirical laugh. “You’re under some queer mistaken impression, Mr. Matherfield. Lady Riversreade was in her own house, here, with me at 9.30 yesterday morning. That’s a fact that I can vouch for!”
The two men looked at each other. Each seemed to be asking the other a silent question. But Matherfield suddenly voiced his, in tones full of wonder and of chagrin.
“Then who on earth is that woman that I followed to Southampton?”
Matherfield’s question went without answer. Rhona, who had no idea of what he was talking about, turned a surprised and inquiring look on Hetherwick. And Hetherwick saw that the time had come for a lot of explanation.
“Look here!” he said. “We’ve got to do some talking, and we can’t keep Miss Hannaford standing in the street. Come into the hotel — we’ll get a private room for lunch, and then we can discuss matters all to ourselves. You’re a bit puzzled by all this,” he continued a few minutes later, turning to Rhona when all three were safely closeted together, and lunch had been ordered. “And no wonder! But I’d better tell you what Matherfield and I were after on Monday night, and what Matherfield was doing all yesterday. You see,” he concluded, after giving Rhona an epitomised account of the recent proceedings, “I was absolutely certain that the woman whom we saw coming out of Vivian’s on Monday night was the woman you pointed out to me on Sunday morning at Victoria as Lady Riversreade — she was dressed in just the same things, I’m positive! — in short I’m convinced it was Lady Riversreade. Then, Matherfield and I are both equally sure that that was the same woman we saw coming out of St. Mary’s Mansions shortly before five o’clock yesterday morning, and whom Matherfield followed to Southampton, Up to now, we’ve never had a doubt that it was Lady Riversreade — not a doubt!”
“Well,” said Rhona, with an incredulous laugh, “I can’t say, of course, that you didn’t see Lady Riversreade come out of Vivian’s on Monday night. Lady Riversreade was certainly in town from Sunday noon to yesterday morning, and she may have gone to Vivian’s on Monday night for purposes of her own. I know nothing about that. But I do know that she was not in Southampton yesterday, for, as I told you, she was back home at Riversreade Court, about half-past nine in the morning, and she’s never left the house since. That’s plain fact!”
“It’s beyond me, then!” exclaimed Matherfield. “And I say again, if that wasn’t Lady Riversreade that I tracked to Southampton, who was it? I’ll say more — if that really was Lady Riversreade that we saw coming out of Vivian’s, and followed to Paddington, and if she wasn’t the woman who came out of those flats yesterday morning, and that I went after, well, then, Lady Riversreade has a double — who lives in St. Mary’s Mansions! That’s about it!”
“As regards that,” remarked Hetherwick. “I didn’t tell you last night, Matherfield, that I went back yesterday to that house from which we watched, and made some cautious inquiries about the tall, handsome woman who has a flat opposite. I got some information. The woman whom we followed there, and whom you were running after yesterday is known there as a Madame Listorelle. She’s very little at her flat, though punctual with its rent. She’s sometimes away altogether for long periods — in fact, she’s rarely seen there. And she’s believed to be connected with the stage. The caretaker who supplied this information saw her at the flat on Monday.”
Matherfield smacked one hand on the open palm of the other.
“It’s an alias!” he exclaimed. “Bet your stars she’s Lady Riversreade! Away from her flat for long periods? Of course — because she’s down here, at her big house. Keeps that flat up for some purpose of her own, and calls herself — what is it? — sounds French.”
“But supposing that’s so,” remarked Hetherwick, with a sly glance at Rhona. “It’s utterly impossible that Lady Riversreade could be at Riversreade Court yesterday, and in Southampton at the same time! Come, now!”
“Well, I tell you it beats me!” muttered Matherfield. “I know what I saw! If there’s anything gone wrong, it’s your fault, Mr. Hetherwick! I don’t know this Lady Riversreade! All I know is that you said the woman we saw coming out of that club was Lady Riversreade. That, sir, is the woman I followed!”
“The woman I saw coming out of Vivian’s was the woman pointed out to me by Miss Hannaford as Lady Riversreade,” affirmed Hetherwick quietly. “That’s certain! But — —”
He was interrupted at this stage by the arrival of lunch. Nothing more was said until all three were seated, and the waiter had been sent away. Then Rhona looked at her companions and smiled.
“You both seem to have arrived at a very promising stage!” she said. “At first I thought it a regular impasse, but — —”
“Isn’t it?” asked Hetherwick. “At present I don’t see any way through or over it.”
“Oh, I think you’re getting towards something!” she retorted. “All these things, puzzling as they are, are better than nothing. I’ve got some news, too — if you’re sure there are no eavesdroppers about.”
“Oh, we’re all right!” said Hetherwick. “Good stout old doors, these — close-fitting. What next?”
Rhona leaned across the table a little, and lowered her voice.
“There was a sort of row at the Court; at least, at the Home, yesterday,” she said. “With that man Baseverie!”
“Ah!” exclaimed Hetherwick. “That’s interesting! Tell about it.”
“Well, I told you that Lady Riversreade arrived from London yesterday morning about nine-thirty,” continued Rhona. “Major Penteney arrived with her.”
“Who’s Major Penteney?” demanded Matherfield.
“He’s a retired Army man who’s greatly interested in Lady Riversreade’s Home, and looks after its affairs in London,” replied Hetherwick. “And Miss Hannaford thinks he’s in love with the foundress. I’ve seen him — saw him with Lady Riversreade on Sunday. Yes,” he added, turning to Rhona, “Major Penteney came back with her? Go on.”
“As soon as they arrived — I saw them come, from my office window — they came across to the Home,” continued Rhona. “It struck me that they both looked unusually grave and serious. They talked to me for a few minutes on business matters: then they went into Lady Riversreade’s private office. They were there for some little time; then Lady Riversreade came out and went away; I saw her cross to the Court. Presently Major Penteney came to me, and told me that he wanted to have a little private talk with me. He said — as near as I can remember— ‘Miss Featherstone — —’”
Matherfield looked up quickly from his plate.
“Eh?” he said. “Miss — Featherstone?”
“That’s the name Miss Hannaford’s known by — there,” said Hetherwick. “Her mother’s name. I told you before, you know.”
“True, true!” assented Matherfield, with a groan. “You did — I remember now. I’m muddled — with yesterday’s affair.”
“‘Miss Featherstone,’ Rhona went on— ‘I believe you’re aware that Lady Riversreade has lately been visited — twice — by a man who called himself Dr. Cyprian Baseverie?’
“‘Yes,’ I answered, ‘I am, Major Penteney. I saw Dr. Baseverie on both occasions.’ ‘Well,’ he said— ‘I don’t suppose you were at all impressed by him?’ ‘Not at all impressed, Major Penteney,’ I replied, ‘except very unfavourably.’ ‘Didn’t like his looks, eh,’ he asked with a smile. ‘Do you?’ I inquired. ‘I’ve never seen the fellow,’ he answered. ‘But I expect to — this very morning. That’s what I want to talk to you about. I believe he’ll turn up about noon — as, I understand, he did before, wanting, of course, to see Lady Riversreade. I want you to tell the doorkeeper, Mitchell, to bring him straight in when he comes, and Mitchell is not to say that Lady Riversreade is not in — she won’t be in — he’s to admit him immediately; and you, if you please, are to show him straight into the private office. Instead of finding Lady Riversreade there, he’ll find — me. Is that clear?’ ‘Perfectly clear, Major Penteney,’ I replied. ‘I’ll see to it.’ ‘Well, there’s something else,’ he said. ‘After I have had a little plain-spoken talk with this fellow, I shall ring the bell. I want you to come in, and to bring Mitchell with you. And — that’s all, at present. You understand?’ ‘I understand, Major Penteney,’ I answered. ‘I’ll see to it. But as you’ve never seen this man there’s one thing I’d like to say to you — he’s the sort of man who looks as if he might be dangerous.’ He smiled at that. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I’m prepared for that, Miss Featherstone. You show him right in.’”
Rhona paused for a moment, to attend to the contents of her plate. But Hetherwick’s knife and fork had become idle; so had Matherfield’s; each man, it was plain, was becoming absorbed. And Matherfield suddenly brightened, and gave Hetherwick an unmistakable wink.
“Good! — good! — good!” he muttered, with something like a chuckle. “I’m beginning to see a bit of daylight! Excellent! — when you’re ready, Miss Featherstone — —”
“Well,” continued Rhona, after a few minutes’ pause, “about noon, Dr. Cyprian Baseverie drove up. I had already given Mitchell his instructions, and he brought Baseverie straight into my office. Baseverie was evidently in the very best of spirits — he bowed and grimaced at sight of me as if he expected to find me dying to see him. I made no answer to his flowery greetings; I just got up, ushered him to the door of the private room, and closed it after him as he stepped across the threshold. Then I laughed — he wouldn’t see who was awaiting him until he got right into the room, and I’d already gathered from Major Penteney that his reception couldn’t be exactly pleasant or agreeable.”
Matherfield rubbed his hands together.
“Good! — good!” he chuckled. “Wish I’d been in that room!”
“It wasn’t long before I was there, Mr. Matherfield,” said Rhona. “I was, of course, tremendously curious to know what was going on there, but the door fits closely, and I heard nothing — no angry voices or anything. However, in less than ten minutes the bell rang sharply. I called Mitchell — he’s a big, strapping, very determined-looking ex-Guardsman — and in we went. I took everything in at a glance, Major Penteney sat at Lady Riversreade’s desk. On the blotting-pad, his right hand close to it, lay a revolver — —”
“Hah!” exclaimed Matherfield. “To be sure! Just so! Fine!”
“Opposite the desk stood Baseverie, staring first at Major Penteney, then at us. It’s difficult for me to describe how he looked. I think the principal expression on his face was one of intense surprise.”
“Surprise?” ejaculated Hetherwick.
“Surprise! Astonishment! He looked like a man who had just heard something that he has believed it impossible to hear. But there was also such a look of anger and rage — well, if Major Penteney hadn’t had that revolver close to his finger-ends, and if Mitchell hadn’t been there, I should have screamed and run. However, it was not I who was to do the running. As soon as Mitchell and I entered, Major Penteney spoke — very quietly. He nodded at Baseverie. ‘Miss Featherstone and you, Mitchell — you see this man? If ever he comes here again, you, Mitchell, will deny him entrance, and you, Miss Featherstone, on hearing from Mitchell that he’s here, will telephone for the police and, if he hangs about, will give him in charge.’ Then he turned to Baseverie. ‘Now, my man!’ he continued, pointing to the door. ‘You get out — quick! Go!’ Of course, I looked at Baseverie. He stood staring almost incredulously at Major Penteney. It seemed to me that he could scarcely believe his ears — he gave me the impression of being unable to credit that he could be so treated. But he was also livid with anger. His fingers worked; his eyes blazed; it was dreadful to see his lips. He got out some words at last — —’”
“Give me the exact ones, if you can,” interrupted Matherfield.
“I can — I’m not likely to forget them,” said Rhona. “He said— ‘What — you defy me, knowing what I know — knowing what I know!’”
“‘Knowing what I know!’” muttered Matherfield. “Knowing what he knew! Um! — and then?”
“Then Major Penteney just pointed to the door. ‘Get out, I tell you!’ he said. ‘And look in the papers to-night. Be off!’”
“‘Look in the papers to-night,’ eh?” said Matherfield. “Um — um! And then, I suppose, he went?”
“He went without another word then,” assented Rhona. “Mitchell escorted him out and saw him off. Major Penteney looked at me when he’d gone. ‘There, Miss Featherstone,’ he said, ‘you’ve seen one of the biggest scoundrels in London — or in Europe. Let’s hope you’ll never see him again, that that’s the end of him here. I think he’s had his lesson!’ I made no answer, but I was jolly glad to see Baseverie’s car scooting away down the drive!”
Matherfield picked up the tankard of ale at his side and took a hearty pull at its contents. He set the tankard down again with an emphatic bang.
“I know what this job is!” he exclaimed triumphantly. “Blackmail!”
“Just so!” agreed Hetherwick. “I’ve been thinking that for the last ten minutes. Baseverie has been endeavouring to blackmail Lady Riversreade. But that’s not our affair, you know. What we’re after is the solving of the mystery surrounding Hannaford’s death. And — does this look likely to fit in anywhere?”
“I should say it decidedly does look likely!” answered Matherfield. “In my opinion it’s all of a piece; at least, it’s a piece out of a piece, one of many pieces, like a puzzle. The thing is to put these pieces together. And there are two things we can try to do at once. First, find out more about this man Baseverie; the other, get hold of more information about the lady in St. Mary’s Mansions.”
“What about approaching Lady Riversreade for information — or Major Penteney?” suggested Hetherwick.
“Yes — why don’t you?” said Rhona, almost eagerly. “Do! I’m a bit tired of being there as Miss Featherstone. I want to tell Lady Riversreade the truth, and all the whys and wherefores of it.”
But Matherfield shook his head. The time for that was not yet, he declared; let them wait awhile. And after more conversation he and Hetherwick returned to London.
CHAPTER XV
REVELATIONS
THE LATE AFTERNOON edition of the evening papers were just out when Hetherwick and Matherfield reached Victoria. Matherfield snatched one up; a moment later he thrust it before Hetherwick, pointing to some big black capitals.
“Good God!” he exclaimed. “Look at that!”
Hetherwick looked, and gasped his astonishment at what he read.
MURDER OF ROBERT HANNAFORD.
FIVE THOUSAND POUNDS REWARD.
Hetherwick turned on his companion with a look that was both questioning and surprised.
“This is probably — no, certainly! — what Penteney referred to when he told Baseverie to look in the newspapers!” he said. “That was yesterday; it must have been in last night’s papers, and this morning’s. I saw neither.”
“Wait!” said Matherfield. He hurried back to the bookstall and returned with an armful of papers, turning the topmost over as he came. “It’s here — and here!” he continued. “Let’s get a quiet corner somewhere and look this thing carefully over!”
“Come into a waiting-room, then,” said Hetherwick. “Odd!” he muttered, as they turned away. “Who should offer a reward — like that, too! — who isn’t concerned in the case?”
“How do we know who isn’t concerned in the case?” exclaimed Matherfield. “Somebody evidently is! — somebody who can not only afford to offer five thousand pounds, but isn’t afraid to spend no end in advertising. Look at that — and that — and that,” he went on, turning over his purchases rapidly. “It’s in every paper in London!”
“Let’s read it carefully,” said Hetherwick. He spread out one of the newspapers on the waiting-room table and muttered the wording of the advertisement while Matherfield looked over his shoulder. “Mysterious, very!” he concluded. “What’s it mean?”
But Matherfield was re-reading the advertisement.
Whereas Robert Hannaford, formerly Superintendent of Police at Sellithwaite, Yorkshire, died suddenly in an Underground Railway train, near Charing Cross (Embankment) Station about 1.15 a.m. on March 19th last, and expert medical investigation has proved that he was poisoned, and there is evidence to warrant the belief that the poison was administered by some person or persons with intent to cause his death, this is to give notice that the above-mentioned sum of Five Thousand Pounds will be paid to anyone first giving information which will lead to the arrest and conviction of the person or persons concerned in administering the said poison and that such information should be given to the undersigned, who will pay the said reward in accordance with the above-stated conditions.
PENTENEY, BLENKINSOP & PENTENEY,
Solicitors.
April 22nd, 1920.
853, Lincoln’s Inn Fields,
London, W.C.
Matherfield pointed to the names of the signatories.
“Penteney,” he remarked. “That’s the name of the man Miss Hannaford mentioned as having given Baseverie his dismissal.”
“Of course — Major Penteney,” said Hetherwick. “Probably a junior partner in the firm. I know their names, but not much about them.”
“I thought he was a soldier,” said Matherfield. “Major, she called him.”
“Very likely a Territorial officer,” replied Hetherwick. “Anyway, it’s very plain what this is, Matherfield, considering all we know. This advertisement has been issued on behalf of Lady Riversreade. Penteney, Blenkinsop & Penteney are no doubt her solicitors. But — why?”
