The Datchet Diamonds Page 11

  CHAPTER XI

  JOHN IRELAND'S WARRANT

  Mr. Franklyn was unable to find a cab. He walked. And as he walked hewondered. Mr. Paxton's conduct seemed to him to be stranger than, inthe presence of Miss Strong, he had cared to admit. It was unlikeCyril to have allowed so amazing a change to have taken place in aholding in which he was so largely interested, and yet to have heldhis peace. Mr. Franklyn had made more considerable efforts to placehimself in communication with Cyril than he had hinted at. There hadbeen several things lately in that gentleman's conduct which hadstruck him as peculiar. But all his efforts had been vain. It was onlyby chance that that afternoon he had run across an acquaintance whoinformed him that he had just seen Mr. Paxton leaving Victoria in aBrighton train. Taking it for granted that he was journeying towardsMiss Strong, as soon as he could, Franklyn followed on his heels.

  And now Miss Strong had seen nothing of him! Indeed, she had been toldthat he intended to spend the night in town. Coupled with othercircumstances, to Mr. Franklyn the thing seemed distinctly odd.

  Arrived at Makell's Hotel, he accosted the porter who held the dooropen for him to enter.

  "Is Mr. Paxton staying here?"

  "Mr. Paxton is out."

  "Out? Then he is staying here?"

  "He has been here. I don't know if he is returning. You had betterinquire at the office."

  Mr. Franklyn inquired. At the office their acquaintance with Mr.Paxton's movements did not appear to be much greater than theporter's. He was out. He might return. He probably would. When, theycould not say.

  "How long ago is it since he went out?"

  "Something over an hour."

  "Did he say anything about where he was going to?"

  "Not to me. I know nothing, it's only what I surmise, but he wenthurrying out as if he had an appointment which he wanted to keep."

  "An appointment? Something over an hour ago? Yes, he had anappointment about that time, but he never kept it." Franklyn looked athis watch. The thirty minutes of which he had spoken to Miss Strongwere already nearly past. "Can I have a bed here to-night?"

  The clerk said that he could. Franklyn took a card out of hispocket-book. He scribbled on it in pencil--

  "I shall be at Medina Villas till eleven. Come at once. They are veryanxious to have news of you."

  Securing it in an envelope, he handed it to the clerk, instructinghim, should Mr. Paxton return before he did, to let him have it atonce. Then Mr. Franklyn left the hotel, meaning to walk to the cabrank, which was distant only a few yards, and then drive straight backto Medina Villas.

  As he walked along the broad pavement some one stopping him, addressedhim by name.

  "Is that you, Mr. Franklyn?"

  The speaker was John Ireland. In his professional capacity as asolicitor Mr. Franklyn had encountered the detective on more than oneoccasion. The detective's next question took Mr. Franklyn a little bysurprise.

  "Where's Mr. Paxton?"

  Mr. Franklyn looked at his questioner as attentively as the imperfectlight would permit. To his trained ear there was something in theinquirer's tone which was peculiar.

  "Mr. Paxton! Why do you ask?"

  Ireland seemed to hesitate. Then blurted out bluntly--

  "Because I've a warrant for his arrest."

  Franklyn made a startled movement backwards.

  "His arrest! Ireland, you're dreaming!"

  "Am I? I'm not of a dreaming sort, as you ought to know by now. Lookhere, Mr. Franklyn, you and I know each other. I know you're Mr.Paxton's friend, but if you'll take my advice, you won't, for hissake, try to give him a lead away from us. You've just come out ofMakell's Hotel. Is he there?"

  Mr. Franklyn answered, without pausing a moment for reflection.

  "He is not there. Nor did they seem to be able to tell me where he is.I'm quite as anxious to see him as you are."

  Ireland slapped his hand against his legs.

  "Then I'll be hanged if I don't believe that he's given us the slip.It'll almost serve me right if he has. I ought to have had him withoutwaiting for a warrant, but the responsibility was a bit bigger onethan I cared to take. And now some of those pretty friends of his havegiven him the word, and he's away. If he's clean away, and all becauseI shirked, I shall almost feel like doing time myself."

  When he spoke again Franklyn's manner was caustic.

  "Since, Ireland, you appear to wish me to be a little unprofessional,perhaps you also won't mind being a little unprofessional, by way of a_quid pro quo_. Might I ask you to tell me what is the offence whichis specified on the warrant which you say you hold?"

  "I don't mind telling you, not the least. In the morning you'll see itfor yourself in all the papers--as large as life and twice as natural.Mr. Paxton is wanted for the robbery of the Duchess of Datchet'sdiamonds."

  If the other had struck him Mr. Franklyn could scarcely have seemedmore startled.

  "The Duchess of Datchet's diamonds! Ireland, are you mad or drunk?"

  "Both, if you like. It's as you choose, Mr. Franklyn."

  Franklyn eyed the detective as if he really thought that he might bementally deranged.

  "Seriously, Ireland, you don't mean to say that Mr. Paxton--Mr. CyrilPaxton--the Cyril Paxton whom I know--is charged with complicity inthe affair of the robbery of the Duchess of Datchet's diamonds?"

  "You have hit it, Mr. Franklyn, to a T."

  Regardless of the falling drizzle, Mr. Franklyn took off his hat, asif to allow the air a chance to clear his brain.

  "But--the thing is too preposterous!--altogether too outrageous forcredibility! You yourself must be aware that in the case of a man inPaxton's position, such a step as that which you propose to take islikely to be fraught, for yourself, with the very gravestconsequences. And I, on my part, can assure you that you are on theverge of making another of those blunders for which you police arefamous. Who is the author of this incredibly monstrous charge?"

  "Don't you trouble yourself about that, Mr. Franklyn. People who bringmonstrous charges will have to bear the brunt of them. But I tell youwhat I'll do. You talk about being unprofessional. I'm willing to be abit more unprofessional for the sake of a little flutter. I'll bet youany reasonable sum you like, at evens, that when we do have him it'sproved that at any rate Mr. Paxton knows where the duchess's diamondsare."

  "You talk utter nonsense."

  "All right, put it so. Anyhow, I'm willing to back my talk. And I'mgiving you a chance to back yours."

  "Let me understand you. Do you say that you are willing to back yourability to prove that Mr. Paxton has a guilty knowledge of the Datchetdiamonds?"

  "A guilty knowledge--that's it; you keep on hitting it, and you've hitit again. I'm ready to lay an even hundred pounds--we may as well havesomething on worth having--that when we do get Mr. Paxton it's provedthat he has, as you put it, a guilty knowledge of the whereabouts ofthe Datchet diamonds."

  "Such a supposition is wholly beyond the bounds of reason."

  "Will you bet?"

  "I will."

  "You understand that I'm betting on a certainty; but since you seem tothink that you're betting on a certainty too the thing's about even.It's a bet?"

  "It is."

  "Good! Perhaps you'll make a note of it. I'll make one too." As amatter of fact, Mr. Ireland, taking out his pocket-book, made a noteof it upon the spot. "When I've proved my point I'll ask you for thathundred."

  "Say, rather, that when you've failed to prove it, I'll ask you."

  "All right. And you shall have it, never you fear." Mr. Irelandreplaced his pocketbook. "Now I'm going to Makell's to make a fewinquiries on my own account. If those inquiries are not satisfactory,I'll at once wire round Mr. Paxton's description. There'll be a rewardoffered for him in the morning, and if we don't have him withinfour-and-twenty hours, I'm a Dutchman."

  Franklyn, knowing his man, was more moved by Ireland's words than hecared to show.

  "Fo
r goodness' sake, Ireland, be careful what you do. As you say, youknow me, and you know that it is not my custom to express an opinionrashly. I assure you that it is my solemn conviction that if you takethe steps which you speak of taking, you will be doing a possiblyirreparable injury to a perfectly innocent man."

  The detective looked at the lawyer steadily for a second or two.

  "Quite right, Mr. Franklyn, I do know you, and it is because I knowyou that I am willing to strain a point, and, without prejudice tothat little bet of ours, give you proof that in matters of this sort aman of my experience is not likely to move without good grounds. Yousee this?"

  Mr. Ireland took something out of his waistcoat pocket. It was a ring.Slipping it on to the tip of his little finger, he held it up for theother to see.

  "I see that it's a ring. What of it?"

  "As Mr. Paxton was coming out of Makell's Hotel this morning he tookhis handkerchief out of his pocket. As he did so, unnoticed by him,something dropped out of his handkerchief on to the pavement. It wasthis ring."

  "Well?"

  "Ill, I should call it, if I were you, because this ring happens to beone of those which were stolen from the Duchess of Datchet. I hadpreviously had reasons of my own for suspecting that he knew more thanwas good for him of that business; even you will grant that thediscovery in his possession of one of the stolen articles wassufficient to turn suspicion into practical certainty."

  Mr. Franklyn said nothing, perhaps because he had nothing to say whichhe felt was equal to the occasion. What Mr. Ireland said astoundedhim. He perceived that, at any rate in Mr. Paxton's absence, theposition presented the appearance of an aggravating puzzle. That Mr.Paxton could, if he chose, furnish a satisfactory solution, he did notdoubt. But he wondered what it was.

  The detective went on.

  "Now, Mr. Franklyn, since I have been, as you yourself would say,unprofessionally open with you, I must ask you, on your side, to beequally open with me. What are you going to do?"

  Franklyn reflected before replying.

  "I fail to see how you are entitled to ask me such a question; unlessyou suspect me also of being an accomplice in the crime. At any rate Idecline to answer."

  "Very well, Mr. Franklyn, I am sorry, but I must do my duty. I havereason to suspect that you may intend to aid and abet Mr. Paxton ineffecting his escape. To prevent your doing so is my obvious duty.Hollier!"

  Mr. Ireland beckoned to a man who had hitherto been loitering underthe shadow of the houses. Mr. Franklyn might or might not have noticedit, but during their conversation two or three other men had beenhanging about within hailing distance in apparently similarpurposeless fashion. The individual who had been signalled toapproached.

  "Mr. Franklyn, this is George Hollier, an officer of police. Hollier,this gentleman's name is Franklyn. He's a friend of Mr. Paxton. Ithink it's just possible that he will, if he can, give Mr. Paxton ahelping hand to get away. I order you to follow him, to observe hismovements as closely as you may, and if he does anything which in yourjudgment looks like an attempt to place himself in communication withMr. Paxton, to arrest him on the spot. You understand?"

  The man nodded. Mr. Franklyn said nothing. He called a cab from therank in front of them. As the vehicle drew up beside them Mr. Irelandaddressed the man upon the box.

  "Cabman, what's your number?"

  The cabman gave question for question.

  "What do you want to know for?"

  "I'm an officer of police. This gentleman wishes you to drive himsomewhere. It is possible that I may require you to tell me where. Youwon't lose by it; you needn't be afraid."

  The driver gave his number. The detective noted it, as he had done hisbet. He called a second cab, again addressing its Jehu.

  "Cabman, this man is an officer of police. He's going to ride besideyou on the box, and he wants you to keep the cab in which thisgentleman is going to be a passenger well in sight. He'll see that youare properly paid for your trouble."

  As Mr. Franklyn drove off he was almost tickled by the thought thathe, a lawyer of blameless reputation, and of the highest standing, wasbeing followed about the streets of Brighton by a policeman as if hehad been a criminal.

  But all disposition towards amusement was banished by the furtherinstant reflection that he had promised Miss Strong to bring her newsof her lover. And he was bringing her news--of what a character!