The Ashiel mystery: A Detective Story Read online

  CHAPTER IV

  On Tuesday afternoon, when Juliet, having hung up the telephone throughwhich she had been conversing with Lord Ashiel, hurried out to see whatBond Street could provide her with, a little man was sitting writing in aluxuriously furnished room in a flat in Whitehall. He was small and thin,and possessed a pair of extraordinarily bright and intelligent browneyes, which saw a good deal more of what happened around him than perhapsany other eyes within a radius of a mile from where he sat. He was, inother words, observant to a very high degree; and, what was moreremarkable, he knew how to use his powers of observation. There was not acriminal in the length and breadth of the country who did not wonderuneasily whether he had really left the scene of his crime as devoid ofclues as he imagined, when he heard that the celebrated detective,Gimblet, had visited the spot in pursuit of his investigations.

  For this was the man, who, in a few years, had unravelled more apparentlyinsoluble mysteries, and caused the arrest of more hitherto evasivescoundrels, than his predecessors had managed to secure in a decade. Thename of Gimblet was known and detested wherever a coiner carried on hisforbidden craft, or a blackmailer concocted his cowardly plans; burglarsand forgers cursed freely when he was mentioned, and there was hardly anillicit trade in the country which had not suffered at one time oranother from his inquisitive habit of interesting himself in otherpeople's affairs. Scotland Yard officials were never too proud to callupon him for help, and many a difficulty he had helped them out of,though he refused an offer of a regular post in the CriminalInvestigation Department, preferring to be at liberty to choose whatcases he would take up. Above all things he loved the strange andinexplicable. Gimblet had not always been a detective. Indeed, he oftensmiled to himself when he thought of the extraordinary confidence whichthe public now elected to repose in him.

  No one was more conscious than himself that he was far from beinginfallible; in fact, his admirers appeared to him to be wilfully blind tothat elementary truth; so that when he failed to bring a case to asuccessful issue people were apt to show an amount of disappointment thathe, for his part, thought very unreasonable. It was, perhaps, in thenature of things that the puzzles he solved correctly received so muchmore publicity than was given to his mistakes; but he often could notavoid wishing that less were expected of him, and that his reputation hadnot grown so tropically on what he could but consider insufficientnourishment.

  In early days, after leaving Oxford, he had gone into an architect'soffice and had flourished there; till one day an accident had turned hisenergies in the direction they had since taken.

  A crime had been committed during the erection of a house he wasbuilding, and, when the police were at a loss to know how to account forthe somewhat peculiar circumstances, the young architect, going hisordinary rounds of inspection, had seen in a flash that there wassomething unusual in the disposal of a portion of the building material;which observation, with certain deductions following thereon, had led tothe detection and arrest of the criminal. From that time on he had beenmore and more drawn to the fascination of tracing events to theircauses, when these appeared connected with deeds of violence and fraud,till of late years he had completely dropped the study of the carryingpowers of wood and stone for the more interesting lessons to be derivedfrom the contemplation of the strange vagaries indulged in by his fellowhuman beings.

  He kept, however, a strong taste for art and all that appertained to it;more especially he was devoted to the collection of old and rarebric-a-brac. There was not a curiosity shop in London that did not knowhim, and he was equally happy when he had discovered some dust-hiddentreasure in the back regions of a secondhand furniture shop, or when hewas engaged in running to earth some human vermin who up till then hadlain snug in his own particular back region of crime, straining his ears,in a mixture of contempt and anxiety, as the sounds of the hunt went by.

  Having finished his letter, Gimblet put his stylo in his pocket, andturned round to look at the clock.

  "Twenty minutes to four," he said half-aloud. "I wish to goodness peoplewould keep their appointments punctually, or else not come at all."

  Five more minutes passed, and he got up and went into the hall.

  "Higgs," he called, and his faithful servant and general factotum cameout of the pantry.

  "I am going out," said his master, taking up his straw hat. "If anyonecalls, say I could not wait any longer. Ah, there's the front-door bell.Just see who it is."

  He retreated to his sitting-room while Higgs went to the door of theflat. A minute or two later Lord Ashiel was ushered in.

  "I'm very sorry I'm late," said he, as the door closed behind him, "butyou know what kept me."

  "Not the young lady, surely," said Gimblet; "you were to see her attwelve o'clock this morning, weren't you?"

  "Yes, but she telephoned to me after lunch. By Jove, Gimblet, I believeyou have got hold of the right girl this time." Lord Ashiel's tone wasenthusiastic. "If she turns out to be half as nice as she looks, I shallbe ever grateful to you for routing her out."

  "Indeed, I am very glad to hear it," replied the detective. "And do youobserve a resemblance in her to your family; do you feel satisfied thatshe is your daughter?"

  "I can't say I do see much likeness," Lord Ashiel confessed ratherreluctantly. "I thought at one moment, when she smiled, that she was likeher mother; but otherwise she did not strike me as resembling either ofus, I am sorry to say."

  "Did she know her history at all?" asked Gimblet. "Did she claim youas father?"

  "No, she had never heard of me, as far as I could make out. And sheassured me that Sir Arthur Byrne has no idea whose child she is."

  "That certainly seems very improbable," Gimblet commented.

  "Yes, it does. Still, I feel sure she was speaking the truth. Why,indeed, should she not do so? It seems that Byrne has married again, andthat his wife has already three daughters of her own; so, as she says, hewould probably be glad enough to get the fourth one off his hands, asthey are not well off."

  "Yes," said Gimblet. "I knew that. No, there seems no reason why SirArthur Byrne should not have told her about you if he knew she was yourchild. What is odd, is that he should not have known it."

  "He had promised his first wife not to make any inquiries, it seems,"said Lord Ashiel.

  "Well, he is an uncommon kind of man if he kept that promise,"Gimblet remarked.

  "He was devoted to his first wife, this girl told me," said Lord Ashiel."You never knew Lena Meredith, Gimblet, or you would not be surprisedthat people kept their promises to her. She was my wife's friend, as Itold you, and I only saw her once, but I don't think I shall ever forgether. It was just after my wife's death, and I was too heart-broken totake much notice of anyone, but she was the sort of woman who sticks inyour memory, and I can quite understand a man being infatuated about her,even to the point of curbing his curiosity for a lifetime on any subjectshe wished him to leave alone. I went to see her, you know, about thebaby. I remember, as if it was yesterday, how I told her the whole story.I told her how I had met Juliana two years before, and how, from thefirst, we had both known we should never care for anyone else. I told herabout my old grandfather, from whom I had such great expectations, andwho wouldn't hear of my marrying anyone except the cousin, still in theschoolroom, whom he had picked out as my future wife.

  "It was his wish that we should be married when I was twenty-five andthe girl eighteen; but I was not yet twenty-two, so that there were atleast three years of grace before he could begin to try and impose hisdesign upon us. And he was old and ill, and I had heard that the doctorsdidn't give him more than a year or two, at most, to live. I thoughtthat if Juliana and I were married secretly he would die before thequestion of my marriage had time to become one of practical politics;and I persuaded her to agree to a private marriage, which we wouldannounce to the world as soon as my eccentric old grandfather was safelyout of it. There was no possible obstacle to our marriage except the oldman's domineering temper. Juliana Sand
fort was my superior in everypossible sense, worldly or otherwise; but I came of a good family, wasto inherit an old name and title, and a more than sufficient fortune solong as I kept on the right side of the old Lord, and we both knew thatthere was no objection to be feared from her relations or from any otherone of mine. In short, much as she disliked doing things in thathole-and-corner sort of way, and ashamed as I was at heart of asking herto, we neither of us could see much actual harm in the idea, and we weremarried accordingly at a registry office in London. Everything wouldhave been well, and all would have gone as we hoped, but for the oneunforeseen and horrible calamity. My wife died six months before mygrandfather, on the day her baby was born."

  Lord Ashiel paused, and sat gazing before him, over Gimblet's shoulder.There was a look on his face which showed that for the moment he wasblind to the scene that lay in front of him, and that he saw in place ofthe bureau which stood opposite to him, and of the Oriental china whichwas the detective's special pride, and on which his eyes seemed to befixed, some vision of the past which was far more real than theunsubstantial present. Presently he went on talking in a reflectiveundertone:

  "All this I told Mrs. Meredith, and a great deal besides, for I was stillin the first violence of bitter, self-reproachful grief. I wanted to berid of the child, the cause of the catastrophe, whom I hated asvehemently as I had loved its mother, and I begged Mrs. Meredith to helpme to dispose of it in such a fashion that, to me at least, the littleone should be to all intents and purposes as dead as she was. Babies, Iknew, had not a very strong hold on life, and I hoped, as a matter offact, that it might really die, but this I did not dare to say aloud.Mrs. Meredith was kind to me. I remember well how good and sympatheticshe was. She had heard most of the story from Juliana, whose friend shewas, and it was at her house that the child was born. We had confided inno one else. She sat silently for a while after I had finished what I hadto say, till at last she turned to me and tried to persuade me to altermy intention of disowning the baby. But I repeated doggedly that unlessshe had some alternative way to suggest of getting rid of it, I meant toleave the little girl at the door of one of the foundling hospitals, andthat I would take her that very night.

  "At length, seeing that I was resolved, she said she thought she couldmanage better than that. She had a friend, she said, an elderly Russianlady, who was a widow and childless. This lady was anxious to adopt alittle English girl, and had lately written to ask her to find her a babywhom she could bring up as her own child. There was no reason whyJuliana's baby should not be the one. She would write at once and suggestit. I was greatly relieved at this idea. Although I had been determinedto do as I proposed, whatever opposition I might meet with, my consciencehad not been willing to let me leave my child on a doorstep withoutprotesting, and, little though I heeded its condemnation, I was glad tobe able to get my own way and at the same time to silence the voice of myinward critic.

  "The plan seemed simplicity itself. My wife, as I have told you, had noparents living. Her brothers and sisters, who were all married andliving in different parts of the country, had been led to believe thather death was the result of an accident. Mrs. Meredith had even managedto prevail on the doctor to lend himself to this fiction; for, mygrandfather being yet alive, there was still every reason not to declareour marriage, while there seemed to be none in favour of doing so, and Ishrank from the questionings and scenes which publicity now would notfail to bring upon me. Before I left Mrs. Meredith we had agreed thatshe should at once communicate with her Russian friend, whose name Irefused to let her tell me.

  "I have told you before to-day, Gimblet, of all that has happened since.How I took passionately to books as a refuge from my sorrow; how, at mygrandfather's suggestion, I had been by way of working for theDiplomatic Service; of how I now worked in good earnest, and in courseof time, and after my grandfather's death, found myself attached to ourembassy at Petersburg. During the two years I spent there I made theacquaintance of Countess Romaninov. One day when I was talking to hershe happened to mention that she had once known an English lady, Mrs.Meredith, and I came to the conclusion that the little girl who livedwith her must be none other than my own child. As you know, I could notstand living in the same town as she did, and for that, and for otherreasons, I left the Diplomatic Service and returned to England, where Ihave lived a quiet life on my place in Scotland ever since. Eight yearsago, as you know, I married for the second time, and after a few yearsof comparative happiness, found myself again a widower, my second wifeand her child dying within a few months of each other, when my boy wasonly four years old.

  "It is more than a year, now," continued Lord Ashiel, after a pause,"since the girl Julia Romaninov came to my sister in London, with aletter of introduction from our ambassador in Russia. It was not until mysister invited her down to Scotland that I heard anything about her. Not,in fact, till the day before she arrived, for I always tell my sister toask any girls she pleases to Inverashiel, and she very seldom bothers meabout it. You can imagine my feelings when I heard that Julia Romaninovwas expected within a few hours, and had indeed already started fromLondon. It was too late to try and stop her, and my first impulse wasflight. But on second thoughts I changed my mind, and stayed. Time haddulled the feelings with which I had contemplated her share in thetragedy that attended her birth, and I was not without a certaincuriosity to see this young creature for whose existence I wasresponsible.

  "I waited; she came; she stayed six weeks. You know the result. My sisterliked her; my nephews, my other guests, every one, except myself, wascharmed with her. And I, for some reason, could never stand the girl. Itold myself over and over again that it was mere prejudice; the remainsof the violent opposition I felt towards her when she was unknown to me;a survival, unconscious and unwilling, of the hatred I had allowed myselfto nourish for the baby of a day old, which had made it impossible thatshe and I should inhabit the same town when she was no more than a childin pinafores. But I could not reason myself out of my dislike, and itculminated a few weeks ago when I found that my sister was anxious tohave her with us in the North again this autumn. As you remember, I cameto you, and told you the facts. I made you understand how repulsive itwas to me to think that this girl might be my child, and begged you tosift the matter as far as was possible, and to find out if there were nota chance that I was mistaken in thinking it was Countess Romaninov whohad been Lena Meredith's friend."

  "Yes," said Gimblet, "and all I could discover at first was that the twoladies had indeed been acquainted. It is difficult to get at the truthwhen both of them have been dead for so many years, and when you will notallow me so much as to hint that you feel any interest in the matter.People are shy of answering questions relating to the private affairs oftheir friends when they think they are prompted by idle curiosity, and inthis case it seems very doubtful whether anyone even knows the answers.But in the course of my inquiries I soon discovered the fact that Mrs.Meredith herself had adopted a child, and it certainly seems more thanpossible that it may have been yours and her friend's. As far as I canfind out, both these young ladies are of about the same age, but no oneseems to know exactly when either of them first appeared on the scene. Ifwe can only get hold of the nurses! But at present I can find no trace ofthem, and you won't let me advertise."

  "Gimblet, I shall be ever grateful to you," repeated Lord Ashiel. "I hadno idea that Mrs. Meredith had adopted a child. I never saw her again, asI have told you, and only heard vaguely that she had married and wasliving abroad. I purposely avoided asking for news of her. I wished toforget everything that was past. As if that had been possible!"

  "I hoped," said Gimblet, "that you would have seen some strong likenessin this young lady to yourself, or to your first wife. That would haveclinched the matter to all intents and purposes. But, as things are, Ishouldn't build too much on the hope that she is your daughter. It mayturn out to be the girl adopted by Countess Romaninov."

  "I hope not, I hope not," said Lord Ashiel earnestly. "I ha
ve got her topromise to come to Scotland, and in a few days I may get some definiteclue as to which of them it is. It is a very odd coincidence that boththe girls bear names so much like that of my poor wife's." He pausedreflectively, and then added, "In the meantime you will go on with yourinquiries, will you not?"

  "I will," said Gimblet. "And I hope for better luck."

  A silence followed. Lord Ashiel half rose to go, then sat down again.Evidently he had something more to say, but hesitated to say it. Atlast he spoke:

  "When I was at St. Petersburg, twenty years ago, I was aroused to astate of excitement and indignation by the social and political evilswhich were then so much in evidence to the foreigner who sojourned in thecountry of the Czars. I was young and impressionable, impulsive andunbalanced in my judgments, I am afraid; at all events I resented certainseeming injustices which came to my notice, and my resentment took apractical and most foolish form. To be short, I was so ill-advised as tojoin a secret society, and have done nothing but regret it ever since."

  "I can well understand your regretting it," said the detective. "Peoplewho join those societies are apt to find themselves let in for a gooddeal more than they bargained for."

  "It was so, at all events so far as I am concerned," said Lord Ashiel, "Ihad, you may be sure, only the wildest idea of what serious and extremelyunpleasant consequences my unreflecting action would entail. Withdrawalfrom these political brotherhoods is to all intents and purposes apractical impossibility; but, in a sense, I withdrew from allparticipation in its affairs as soon as I realized to what an extent thetheories of its leaders, as to the best means to adopt by which torectify the injustices we all agreed in deploring, differed from my ownideas on the subject. And I should not have been able to withdraw, evenin the negative way I did, if accident had not put into my hand a weaponof defence against the tyranny of the Society."

  Lord Ashiel paused hesitatingly, and Gimblet murmured encouragingly:

  "And that was?"

  "No," said Lord Ashiel, after a moment's silence, "I must not tell youmore. We are, I know, to all appearances, safe from eavesdroppers orinterruption; but, if a word of what I know were to leak out by someincredible agency, my life would not be worth a day's purchase. As it is,I am alarmed; I believe these people wish for my death. In fact, there isno doubt on that subject. But they dare not attempt it openly. I havetold them that if I should die under suspicious circumstances of anysort, the weapon I spoke of will inevitably be used to avenge my death,and they know me to be a man of my word. For all these years that threathas been my safeguard, but now I am beginning to think that they aretrying other means of getting me out of the way."

  "It is a pity," said Gimblet, "that you do not speak to me more openly. Ithink it is highly probable, from what I know of the methods resorted toby Nihilists in general, that you may be in very grave danger. Indeed, Istrongly advise you to report the whole matter to the police."

  "I wish I could tell you everything," said Lord Ashiel, "but even if Idared, you must remember that I am sworn to secrecy, and I cannot seethat because I have, by doing so, placed myself in some peril, that onthat account I am entitled to break my word. No, I cannot tell you anymore, but in spite of that, I want you to do me a service."

  "I am afraid I can't help you without fuller knowledge," said Gimblet."What do you think I can do?"

  "You can do this," said Lord Ashiel. He put his hand in his pocket andGimblet heard a crackling of paper. "I am thinking out a hiding-placefor some valuable documents that are in my possession, and when I havedecided on it I will write to you and explain where I have put them,using a cipher of which the key is enclosed in an envelope I have herein my pocket, and which I will leave with you when I go. Take charge ofit for me, and in the course of the next week or so I will send you acipher letter describing where the papers are concealed. Do not read itunless the occasion arises. I can trust you not to give way tocuriosity, but if anything happens to me, if I die a violent death, orequally if I die under the most apparently natural circumstances, I wantyou to promise you will investigate those circumstances; and, ifanything should strike you as suspicious in connection with what I havetold you, you will be able to interpret my cipher letter, find thedocument I have referred to, and act on the information it contains.Will you undertake to do this for me?"

  "I will, certainly," Gimblet answered readily, "but I hope the occasionwill not arise. I beg you to break a vow which was extorted from you byfalse representations and which cannot be binding on you. Do confidefully in me; I do not at all like the look of this business."

  "No, no," replied Lord Ashiel, smiling. "You must let me be the judge ofwhether my word is binding on me or not. As you say, I hope nothing willhappen to justify my perhaps uncalled-for nervousness. In any case itwill be a great comfort and relief to me to know that, if it does, thescoundrels will not go unpunished."

  "They shall not do that," said Gimblet fervently. "You can make your mindeasy on that score, at least. But I advise you to send your documents tothe bank. They will be safer there than in any hiding-place you cancontrive."

  "I might want to lay my hand upon them at any moment," said LordAshiel, "and I admit I don't like parting with my only weapon ofdefence. Still, I dare say you are right really, and I will think itover. But mind, I don't want you to take any steps unless, you cansatisfy yourself that these people have a hand in my death. Please bevery careful to make certain of that. My health is not good, and growsworse. I may easily die without their interference; but I suspect that,if they do get me, they will manage the affair so that it has all thelook of having been caused by the purest misadventure. That is what Ifear. Not exactly murder; certainly no violent open assault. But we areall liable to suffer from accidents, and what is to prevent my meetingwith a fatal one? That is more the line they will adopt, if, as Iimagine, they have decided on my death."

  "If ever there were a case in which prevention is better than cure," saidGimblet, "I think you will own that we have it here. If I had some hintof the quarter from which you expect danger, I might at least suggestsome rudimentary precautions. What kind of 'accident' do you imaginelikely to occur?"

  "That I can't tell," replied Lord Ashiel. "I only know that these enemiesof mine are resourceful people, who are apt to make short work of anyonewhose existence threatens their safety or the success of their designs. Iam, by your help, taking a precaution to ensure that I shall not dieunavenged. They must be taught that murder cannot be committed in thiscountry with impunity. And I am very careful not to trust myself out ofEngland. If I crossed the Channel it would be to go to my certain death.Otherwise I should have gone myself to see Sir Arthur Byrne. But in thisisland the man who kills even so unpopular a person as a member of theHouse of Lords does not get off with a few years' imprisonment, as he mayin some of the continental countries; and the Nihilists, for the mostpart, know that as well as I do."

  Gimblet followed Lord Ashiel into the hall with the intention of showinghim out of the flat, but the sudden sound of the door bell ringing madehim abandon this courtesy and retreat to shelter.

  He did not wish to be denied all possibility of refusing an interview tosome one he might not want to see.

  So it was Higgs who opened the door and ushered out the last visitor, atthe same time admitting the newcomer.

  This proved to be a small, slight woman dressed in deepest black andwearing the long veil of a widow, who was standing with her back to thedoor, apparently watching the rapid descent of the lift which had broughther to the landing of No. 7.

  She did not move when the door behind her opened, and Lord Ashiel,emerging from it in a hurry to catch the lift before it vanished, nearlyknocked her down. She gave a startled gasp and stepped hastily to oneside into the dark shadows of the passage as he, muttering an apology,darted forward to the iron gateway and applied his finger heavily to theelectric bell-push. But the liftboy had caught sight of him with the tailof his eye, and was already reascending.

  His anxiety all
ayed, Lord Ashiel turned again to express his regrets tothe lady he had inadvertently collided with, but she had disappeared intothe flat, of which Higgs was even then closing the door.

  Ashiel stepped into the lift and sat down rather wearily on theleather-covered seat.

  Although, to some extent, the relief of having unburdened his mind ofsecrets that had weighed upon it for so many years produced in him acertain lightness of heart to which he had long been a stranger, yetthe very charm of the impression made upon him by Juliet Byrne, duringhis first meeting with her that morning, led him to suspect uneasilythat his hopes of her proving to be his child were due rather to thepleasure it gave him to anticipate such a possibility than to any morelogical reason.

  He was so entirely engrossed in an honest endeavour to adjust correctlythe balance of probabilities, as to remain unconscious that the lift hadstopped at the ground floor, and it was not until the boy who was incharge had twice informed him of the fact, that he roused himself with aneffort and left the building.

  Still absorbed in his speculations and anxieties, he walked rapidly away,and, having narrowly escaped destruction beneath the wheels of more thanone taxi, wandered down Northumberland Avenue on to the Embankment. Hecrossed to the farther side, turned mechanically to the right and walkedobliviously on.

  It was not until he came nearly to Westminster Bridge that he rememberedthe cipher that he had prepared for Gimblet, and that he had, after all,finally left without giving it to him. It was still in his pocket, andthe discovery roused him from his abstraction.

  He took a taxi and drove back to the flats. A motor which had beenstanding before the door when he had come out was still there when hereturned; so that, thinking it probably belonged to the lady he had meton the landing, and guessing that if so the detective was still occupiedwith her, he did not ask to see him again, but handed the envelope overto Higgs when he opened the door, with strict injunctions to take itimmediately to his master.