The Datchet Diamonds Page 13

  CHAPTER XIII

  THE DETECTIVE AND THE LADY

  Mr. Ireland marched into Makell's Hotel as if he owned the building.He created a sensation in the office.

  "You know me?"

  The clerk, who was a good-looking young gentleman, with a curledmoustache, eyed the speaker with somewhat supercilious curiosity. Mr.Ireland's manner was more suggestive of his importance than was hisappearance. The clerk decided that he did not know him. He owned asmuch.

  "I'm Inspector Ireland, of the Criminal Investigation Department. Ihold a warrant for the arrest of Cyril Paxton. He is stopping in yourhotel. I don't want to cause any more trouble than necessary--myassistants are outside--so, perhaps, you will tell me whereabouts inthe house I am likely to find him."

  The clerk looked the surprise which he felt.

  "Mr. Paxton is out."

  "Are you sure?"

  "I will make inquiries if you wish it. But I know that he is out. Isaw him go, and, as I have not left the office since he went, if hehad returned I could not have helped seeing him."

  "Has he any property here?"

  "I will speak to the manager."

  The clerk turned as if to suit the action to the word. Reachingthrough the office window, Mr. Ireland caught him by the shoulder.

  "All right. You send for him. I'll speak to him instead."

  The clerk eyed the detaining hand with an air of unconcealed disgust.

  "Very good. Have the kindness to remove your hand. If you are apoliceman, as you say you are, yours is not the kind of grasp which Icare to have upon my shoulder."

  "Hoity-toity! Don't you injure yourself, young man. All I want is tohave the first talk with the manager. Are you going to send for themanager, or am I?"

  "Here is the manager."

  As the clerk spoke, and before he had had time to properly smooth hisruffled plumes, the dignitary in question entered the office from aninner room. John Ireland accosted him.

  "Are you the manager of this hotel--name of Treadwater?"

  "I am Mr. Treadwater."

  Ireland explained who he was, and what he wanted. Mr. Treadwater wasevidently even more surprised than the clerk had been.

  "You have a warrant for the arrest of Cyril Paxton! Not our Mr.Paxton, surely?"

  "I don't know about your Mr. Paxton; but it's the Mr. Paxton who'sstopping here, so don't you make any mistake about it. I'm told he'sout. One of my men will stay here till he returns. In the meantime Iwant to know if there is any property of his about the place. If thereis, I want to have a look at it."

  The manager considered.

  "I don't wish to seem to doubt, Mr. Ireland, that you are what you sayyou are, or, indeed, anything at all that you have said. But an efforthas already been made once to-day to gain access--under what turnedout to be false pretences--to certain property which Mr. Paxton hascommitted to our keeping. And I am compelled to inform you that it isa rule of ours not, under any circumstances, to give up property whichhas been intrusted to us by our guests to strangers without a properauthority."

  Ireland smiled grimly.

  "Where is there somewhere I can speak to you in private? I'll show youauthority enough, and to spare."

  The manager, having taken Mr. Ireland into the inner room, thedetective lost no time in explaining the position.

  "You're a sensible man, Mr. Treadwater. You don't want to have anybother in a place of this sort, and I don't want to make any morebother than I'm compelled. Mr. Paxton's wanted for a big thing, aboutas big a thing as I've ever been engaged in. I wasn't likely to comehere without my proper credentials, hardly. Just you cast your eyeover this."

  Ireland unfolded a blue paper which he had taken from among a sheaf ofother papers, which were in the inner pocket of his coat, and held itup before the manager's face.

  "That's a search warrant. If you're not satisfied with what you see ofit, I'll read it to you, and that's all I'm bound to do. I've reasonto believe that Cyril Paxton has certain stolen property in hispossession here, in this hotel. If you choose to give me facilities toexamine any property he may have, well and good. If you don't choose,this warrant authorises me to search the building. I'll call my menin, and I'll have it searched from attic to basement--every drawer andevery box which the place contains, if it takes us all night to doit."

  Mr. Treadwater rubbed his hands together. He did not look pleased.

  "I had no idea, when I spoke, that you were in possession of such adocument. As you say, I certainly do not wish to have a bother. Asearch warrant is authority enough, even for me. All the property Mr.Paxton has in the hotel is in this room. I will show it to you." Themanager moved to a door which seemed to have been let into the wall."This is our strong-room. As you perceive, it is a letter lock. Onlyone person, except myself, ever has the key to it."

  While he was speaking he opened the door. He disappeared into therecess which the opening of the door disclosed. Presently hereappeared carrying a Gladstone in his hand. He laid the bag on thetable, in front of Mr. Ireland.

  "That is all the property Mr. Paxton has in the hotel."

  "How do you know?"

  The manager smiled--the smile of superiority.

  "My dear sir, it is part of my duty to know what every guest bringsinto the hotel. You can, if you like, go up to the room which heoccupied last night, but you'll find nothing in it of Mr. Paxton's.All that he brought with him is contained in that Gladstone bag."

  "Then we'll see what's in it. I'm going to open it in your presence,so that you'll be evidence to prove that I play no hankey-pankeytricks."

  Mr. Ireland did open it in the manager's presence. With, consideringthe absence of proper tools, a degree of dexterity which did himcredit. But after all it appeared that there was nothing in it toadequately reward him for the trouble he had taken. The bag was filledchiefly with shirts and underclothing. Although every article seemedto be bran-new, there was absolutely nothing which, correctlyspeaking, could be said to be of value. With total want of ceremonythe investigator turned the entire contents of the bag out upon thetable. But though he did so, nothing in any way out of the common wasdiscovered.

  Judging from the expression of his countenance, Mr. Ireland did notseem to be contented.

  "Wasn't there an attempt at burglary here last night? One's beenreported."

  "There was. For the first time in the history of the hotel. An attemptwas made from the street to gain admission through the window, to Mr.Paxton's bedroom."

  "And didn't you say that an attempt had been made to-day to gainaccess, by means of false pretences, to Mr. Paxton's property?"

  "That is so."

  "And didn't he ask you to keep that property safe in yourstrong-room?"

  "He did."

  "Well--doesn't it seem as if somebody was precious anxious to lay hishands upon that property, and that Mr. Paxton was equally anxious thathe shouldn't?"

  "Precisely."

  "And yet you go and tell me that all the property he has is containedin that Gladstone bag. What is there that should make any one go outof his way to take it? You tell me that!"

  When the manager replied, it was with an appreciable amount ofhesitation.

  "I think that is a point on which I may be able to throw some light."

  "Then throw it--do!"

  "I shouldn't be surprised if Mr. Paxton took all that the bagcontained which was of value up to London with him this morning, andleft it there. Indeed, this evening, before he went out, he told methat that was what he had done."

  Mr. Ireland gave utterance to what, coming from the mouth of any onebut an inspector of police, would have sounded like a string ofexecrations.

  "I suppose you've no idea what it was that he took with him or whereit was he took it?"

  "Not the faintest notion."

  "Mr. Treadwater, this is another illustration of the fact that if youwant a thing well done you must do it yourself. This morning I set aman to shadow M
r. Paxton--I told him not to let him get out of hissight. What does he do, this utter idiot? He sees our gentleman drop aring. My man, he picks it up, and he gets into such a state ofexcitement that he loses his head and tears straight off with it tome. I'm not saying that he'd not chanced upon an important piece ofevidence, because he had; but if he'd kept his wits about him, and hadhis head screwed on straight, he'd have had the ring and Mr. Paxtontoo. As it was, that was the last he saw of Mr. Paxton."

  "May I ask what it is you suspect Mr. Paxton of having taken with himup to town?"

  "Unless I'm out of my reckoning, Mr. Paxton went up to town with theDuchess of Datchet's diamonds stowed away in his pockets."

  The manager's face was a vivid note of exclamation.

  "No! My dear sir, I have been acquainted with Mr. Paxton someconsiderable time. I happen to know that he's a gentleman of positionin the City. You must surely be mistaken in supposing that he could bemixed up in such an affair as that--it's incredible!"

  "Is it? That's all right. If you like, you think so. Gentlemen ofposition in the City have had their fingers in some queer pies beforeto-day. If you don't happen to know it, I present you with theinformation gratis. Have you any idea of where he was going when hewent out to-night?"

  "I fancy that when he comes to Brighton he comes to see a lady. Irather took it for granted that, as usual, he was going to her."

  "What's her name; and where does she live?"

  "I don't know her name; but I believe she lives in MedinaVillas--that, you know, is at West Brighton."

  "Medina Villas?" Ireland seemed to be turning something over in hismind. He smiled. "I shouldn't be surprised. If she does, I'm inclinedto think that one of my men has got his eye on her address. If Mr.Paxton's there, he's nabbed. But I'm afraid he isn't. On this occasionI'm inclined to think that he had an appointment which he found to beslightly more pressing than that which he had with the lady." Irelandlooked at the manager with what he probably intended for a look offrankness. "I don't mind owning that there are features about thecase, as it stands at present, which are beyond my comprehension, andI tell you, I would give a good round sum to be able this moment tolay my finger on Mr. Paxton."

  "So would I. I'd give a great deal to be able to lay my finger on Mr.Paxton. With all my heart I would. Yes, sir, indeed I would."

  Each of the talkers had been too much interested in what the other hadto say to notice that while they talked, without invitation or anysort of announcement, a procession--the procession of three!--hadentered the room. The speaker was, of course, Miss Strong. Behind her,gripping the handle of her parasol, as it seemed a little nervously,came Miss Wentworth. Mr. Franklyn, looking distinctly the mostuncomfortable of the trio, brought up the rear. Miss Strong, in front,bore herself like a female paladin. She held herself quite straight;her shoulders were thrown well back; her dainty head was gallantlypoised upon her lovely neck; she breathed the air of battle. She mightnot have known it, but seldom had she looked more charming. Thedetective and the manager both looked at her askance. She only lookedat the detective.

  "Are you John Ireland?"

  "I am. Though I have not the pleasure, madam, of knowing you."

  "I am Daisy Strong, who am shortly to be Cyril Paxton's wife. How dareyou, Mr. Ireland, so foully slander him!"

  Mr. Ireland showed symptoms of being surprised. He had an eye for alady, and still more, perhaps, for a pretty girl. And by neither washe accustomed to being addressed in such a strain.

  "I trust, madam, that I have not slandered Mr. Paxton."

  "You trust so, do you? Mr. Franklyn, will you come forward, please,instead of hanging behind there in the shadow of Miss Wentworth'sskirts, as if you were afraid?"

  Mr. Franklyn, thus addressed, came forward, looking, however, as if hewould rather not.

  "You hear what this person says. And yet you tell me he has slanderedCyril Paxton as foully as he could."

  Mr. Franklyn shot a glance at Mr. Ireland which was meant to bepregnant with meaning. He showed a disposition to hum and to ha.

  "My dear Miss Strong, I'm sure you will find that Mr. Ireland is notunreasonable. His only desire is to do his duty."

  Miss Strong stamped her foot upon the floor.

  "His duty! to slander a gentleman in whose presence he is not worthyto stand! Because a man calls himself a policeman, and by doubtfulmethods contrives to earn the money with which to keep himself alive,is such an one entitled to fling mud at men of stainless honour anduntarnished reputation, and then to excuse himself by pretending thatflinging mud is his duty? If you, Mr. Franklyn, are afraid of apoliceman, merely because he's a policeman, I assure you I am not. AndI take leave to tell Mr. Ireland that there are policemen who are, atleast, as much in want of being kept in order as any member of thecriminal classes by any possibility could be."

  Ireland eyed the eloquent lady as if he were half-puzzled,half-amused.

  "I understand your feelings, madam, and I admire your pluck instanding up for Mr. Paxton."

  Again the lady stamped her foot.

  "I care nothing for your approval! And it has nothing at all to dowith the matter on hand."

  The detective coughed apologetically.

  "Perfectly true, madam. But I can't help it. I assure you I always doadmire a young woman who sticks up for her young man when he happensto find himself in a bit of a scrape. But, if you take my tip, MissStrong, you'll leave us men to manage these sort of things. You'llonly do Mr. Paxton harm by interfering. You tell her, Mr. Franklyn, ifwhat I say isn't true."

  Miss Strong turned towards Mr. Ireland, cutting short the words onFranklyn's lips before they had a chance of getting themselves spoken.

  "Do not refer to Mr. Franklyn on any matter which concerns me. Thereis no connection between us. Mr. Franklyn and I are strangers. I amquite capable of taking care of myself. I even think that you may findme almost a match for you." She turned to Treadwater. "Is Mr. Paxtonstopping in this hotel?"

  "He stayed here last night, madam. And he has been here again thisevening. At present, he is out."

  "And what is this?"

  She motioned towards the open bag, with its contents strewed upon thetable.

  "That is Mr. Paxton's. Mr. Ireland has forced it open."

  Miss Strong turned towards Ireland--a veritable feminine fury.

  "You wretched spy! you cowardly thief! To take advantage of a man'sback being turned to poke and pry among his private possessions inorder to gratify your curiosity! Is that the science of detection?"She transferred her attentions to the manager. "And you--are those thelines on which your hotel is conducted, that you hand over, in theirabsence, the belongings of your guests to the tender mercies of such aman as this? If so, then your methods of management ought to be knownmore widely than they are. Decent people will then know what they haveto expect when they trust themselves inside your doors."

  Treadwater did not seem as if he altogether relished the fashion ofthe lady's speech. He began to make excuses.

  "I protested against Mr. Ireland's action; but on his producing asearch warrant, I yielded to the pressure of necessity."

  "The pressure of necessity! Do you call this the pressure ofnecessity?"

  Miss Strong pointed a scornful finger at Mr. Ireland. Ostentatiouslyignoring her, the detective addressed himself to the manager.

  "I'm going now, Mr. Treadwater. I'll leave one of my men behind me. IfMr. Paxton returns, he'll deal with him."

  The lady interposed.

  "What do you mean--he'll deal with him?"

  "What do I mean? I mean that Mr. Paxton will be arrested as soon as heshows his nose inside the door. And I'll tell you what, Miss Strong,if you were to use fewer hard words, and were to do something to proveMr. Paxton's innocence, instead of talking big about it, you might dohim more good than you're likely to do by the way in which you've beengoing on up to now. I'll put these things together and take them withme."

  By "these things" Mr. Ireland meant Mr. Paxton's. He moved t
owards thetable. Miss Strong thrust herself between him and it.

  "Don't touch them--don't dare to touch them! Don't dare to touchCyril's property! Do you suppose that, because you're a policeman, allthe world can be cowed into suffering you to commit open robbery?"

  She clutched at the table with both her hands, glaring at him likesome wild cat. Shrugging his shoulders, Ireland laughed, shortly,grimly.

  "Very good, Miss Strong. There is nothing there which is of theslightest consequence in this particular case. You are welcome to takethem in your custody. Only, remember, you assume the responsibilityfor their safe keeping."

  "The man who forces open another man's portmanteau without theknowledge of its owner becomes, I fancy, at once responsible for itscontents. And I promise you that if the slightest article is missingyou will be taught that even a policeman can be called to account."

  Without attempting to answer her, Ireland went towards the door,pausing, as he went, to whisper to Mr. Franklyn--

  "Why did you bring her with you? She'll only make bad worse."

  Mr. Franklyn shrugged his shoulders, as the detective himself haddone.

  "I didn't bring her! She brought me!"

  Miss Strong's clear tones came after the detective.

  "You set a man to spy on me, Mr. Ireland, and now I mean to spy onyou. We'll see if turn and turn about is not fair play, and if youdare to try to prevent my going exactly where I please."

  Still ignoring her, Ireland went into the hall. There he found Hollierin waiting.

  "Any report, Hollier?"

  "Nothing material, sir. I followed Mr. Franklyn to Medina Villas andback, but saw nothing to cause me to suppose that he was incommunication with Mr. Paxton."

  "You remain here until I relieve you. If Mr. Paxton returns, arresthim. Send for me if I am required. I will leave a man outside, so thatyou can have help, if it is needed."

  Ireland went through the hall, and through the door, Miss Strong hardupon his heels. On the steps he turned and spoke to her.

  "Now, Miss Strong, if you are wise, you'll go home and go to bed. Youmay do as you like about attempting to follow me, but I promise you, Ishall not permit you to dog my footsteps one moment longer than itsuits my convenience. On that point you need be under nomisapprehension."

  The detective strode away. Miss Strong was about to follow, when MissWentworth caught her by the arm.

  "Now, Daisy, be reasonable--you'll do no good by persisting--let's gohome."

  "Loose my arm."

  Miss Wentworth loosed it.

  In less than a minute Daisy had decreased the distance between Irelandand herself to half a dozen feet. Franklyn and Miss Wentworth cameafter, splashing through the mud and the mist, somewhatdisconsolately, a few paces in the rear.

  The cavalcade had gone, perhaps, fifty yards, when a figure, dashingout of an entry they were passing, caught Ireland by the lapel of hissleeve.

  "Guv'nor! I want to speak to you!"

  The figure was that of a man--an undersized, half-grown, veryshabby-looking man. The light was not bad enough to conceal so much.The collar of a ragged, dirty coat was turned up high about his neck,and an ancient billycock was crammed down upon his head. Stopping,Ireland turned and looked at him.

  "You want to speak to me?"

  "Yes, Mr. Ireland; don't yer know me?"

  "Know you?" Suddenly Ireland's arm went out straight from theshoulder, and the stranger, as if he had been a rat, was grippedtightly by the neck. "Yes, Bill Cooper, I do know you. I've beenlooking for you some time. There's something which I rather wish tosay to you. Now, what's your little game?"

  The man's voice became a whine; the change was almost excusable whenone considers how uncomfortable he must have been in the detective'sgrasp. Daisy, who was standing within a yard, could hear distinctlyevery word that was uttered.

  "Don't be nasty, Mr. Ireland, that ain't like you! I know you wantme--that's all right--but if you take me without hearing what I've gotto say you'll be sorry all the same."

  "Sorry, shall I? How do you make that out?"

  "Why, because I'll make your fortune for you if you'll give me half achance--leastways, I daresay it's made already, but I'll double it foryou, anyhow."

  "And pray how do you propose to do that?"

  "Why, I'll put you on to the biggest thing that ever you were put onto."

  "You mean that you'll round on your comrades. I see. Is that it?"

  The stranger did not seem to altogether like the fashion in which Mr.Ireland summed up his intentions.

  "You may call it what you please, but if I hadn't been used bad firstof all myself, I wouldn't have said a word; red-hot irons wouldn'thave made me. But when a chap's been used like I've been used, hefeels like giving of a bit of it back again; that's fair enough, ain'tit?"

  "Chuck the patter, Bill. Go on with what you have to say."

  "Look here, Mr. Ireland, you give me ten thick 'uns, enough to take meto 'Merriker; I'll go there, and I'll put you on to them as hadsomething to do with them there Duchess of Datchet's diamonds what'sbeen and got theirselves mislaid."

  It was Daisy who answered. She seemed to speak in sudden anduncontrollable excitement. "I don't know what ten thick 'uns are, butif you do what you say I'll give you fifty pounds out of my ownpocket."

  The man regarded Miss Strong with an inquiring eye.

  "I don't know you, miss. Mr. Ireland, who's the lady?"

  "The lady's all right. She's a bit interested in the Datchet diamondsherself. If she says she'll give you fifty pounds you'll get 'em, onlyyou've got to earn 'em, mind!"

  "Fifty pound!" The man drew a long breath.

  "I'd do pretty nigh anything for fifty pound, let alone the waythey've been and used me. I've been having a cruel hard time, Ihave--cruel hard!"

  Ireland took Cooper by the shoulder and shook him, with the apparentintention of waking him up.

  "All right, Mr. Ireland, all right; there ain't no call for you to gohandling of me; I ain't doing nothing to you. I don't know the lady,and she don't know me, and I'm only a-trying to see that's it's allright. You wouldn't do a pore bloke, miss, would you? That fifty'll beall right?"

  Mr. Ireland presented Cooper with a second application of the previousdose.

  "That fifty'll be all right, or rather it'll be all wrong, if you keepme standing here much longer in the rain."

  "You are so hasty, Mr. Ireland, upon my word you are. I'm a-coming toit, ain't I? Now I'll tell you straight. Tom the Toff, he done thenicking; and the Baron, he put him up to it." Miss Strong lookedbewildered.

  "Tom the Toff? The Baron? Who are they?"

  The detective spoke.

  "I know who they are, Miss Strong. And I may tell Mr. Cooper that I'vehad an eye on those two gentlemen already. What I want to know iswhere the diamonds are. They're worth more than the rogues who tookthem. Now, Bill, where are the shiners?"

  Cooper stretched out both his hands in front of him with a gesturewhich was possibly intended to impress Mr. Ireland with a convictionof his childlike candour.

  "That's where it is--just exactly where it is! I don't know where theshiners are--and that's the trewth! Yet more don't nobody else seem toknow where the shiners are! That's what the row's about! Seems as howthe shiners has hooked theirselves clean off--and ain't thereructions! So far as I can make out from what I've come across and puttogether, don't yer know, it seems as how a cove as they callsPaxton----"

  "Paxton!"

  The name came simultaneously from Ireland and Miss Strong.

  "I don't know as that's his name--that's only what I've heard 'em callhim, don't yer know. He's a rare fine toff, a regular out-and-outer,whatever his name is. It seems as how this here cove as they callsPaxton has been playing it off on the Toff and the Baron, and takenthe whole blooming lot of sparklers for his own--so far as I can makeout, he has."

  "It's a lie!"

  This was, of course, Miss Strong. The plain speaking did not seem tohurt Mr. Cooper's feelings.


  "That I don't know nothing at all about; I'm only telling you what Iknow. And I do know that they've had a go at this here cove as theycalls Paxton more than once, and more than twice, and that now they'vegot him fast enough."

  Mr. Ireland twisted Cooper round, so that the electric lamplight shoneon his face.

  "What do you mean--they've got him fast enough?"

  "I mean what I says, don't I? They got hold of him this evening, andthey've took him to a crib they got, and if he don't hand over themsparklers they'll murder him as soon as look at him."

  Miss Strong turned to the detective with shining eyes.

  "Mr. Ireland, save him! What shall we do?"

  "Don't put yourself out, Miss Strong. This may turn out to be the bestthing that could have happened to Mr. Paxton. Bill, where's this cribof theirs?"

  Cooper pushed his hat on to the side of his head.

  "I don't know as how I could rightly describe it to you--Brightonain't my home, you know. But I daresay I could show it to you if I wasto try."

  "Then you shall try. Listen to me, Bill Cooper. If you take me to thiscrib of theirs, and if what you say is true, and you don't try to playany of those tricks of yours, I'll add something of my own to thislady's fifty, and it'll be the best stroke of business that you everdid in all your life."

  Ireland called a cab. He allowed Daisy to enter first. Cooper got inafter her.

  "The police-station, driver--as fast as you can."

  Cooper immediately wanted to get out again.

  "Where are you a-taking me to? I ain't going to no police-station!"

  "Stay where you are, you idiot! So long as you act fairly with me,I'll act fairly with you. You don't suppose that this is a sort of jobthat I can tackle single-handed? I'm going to the station to get help.Now then, driver, move that horse of yours!"

  The cab moved off, leaving Miss Wentworth and Mr. Franklyn to followin another if they chose.