The Crimson Blind

F >> Fred M. White >> The Crimson Blind

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"I wish you were at the bottom of the sea before you came here," Henson
growled. "You mind and be careful what you're doing with the champagne.
They don't drink by the tumbler in the society you are in now, remember.
Just one or two glasses and no more. If you take too much and let your
tongue run you will find your stay here pretty short."

Apparently the hint was not lost on Merritt, for dinner found him in a
chastened mood. His natural audacity was depressed by the splendour and
luxury around him; the moral atmosphere held him down. There were so
many knives and forks and glasses on the table, such a deal of food that
was absolutely strange to him. The butler behind made him shiver.
Hitherto in Merritt's investigations into great houses he had fought
particularly shy of butlers and coachmen and upper servants of that
kind. The butler's sniff and his cold suggestion as to hock slightly
raised Merritt's combative spirit. And the champagne was poor, thin
stuff after all. A jorum of gin and water, or a mug of beer, was what
Merritt's soul longed for.

And what a lot of plate there was on the table and sideboard! Some of it
was gold, too. Merritt's greedy professional eye appraised the collection
at some hundreds of pounds--hundreds of pounds--that is, after the stuff
had been disposed of. In imagination he had already drugged the butler
and was stuffing the plate into his bag.

Henson said very little. He was too busily engaged in watching his
confederate. He wished from the bottom of his heart now that Chris had
never seen Merritt. She was smiling at him now and apparently hanging on
every word. Henson had seen society ladies doing this kind of thing
before with well-concealed contempt. So long as people liked to play his
game for him he had no objection. But this was quite different. Merrit
had warmed a little under the influence of his fifth glass of champagne,
but his eye looked lovingly and longingly in the direction of a silver
spirit-stand on the sideboard. The dinner came to an end at length, to
Henson's great relief, and presently the whole party wandered out to the
terrace. Bell dropped behind with Chris.

"Now is your time," he whispered. "Henson dare not lose sight of Merritt
before he goes to bed, and I'll keep the latter out here for a good long
spell. I've muffled the striker of the telephone so that the bell will
make no noise when you get your call back from Brighton, so that you
must be near enough to the instrument to hear the click of the striker.
Make haste."

Chris dropped back to the library and rapidly fluttered over the leaves
of the "Telephone Directory." She found what she wanted at length and
asked to be put on to Brighton. Then she sat down in an armchair in the
darkness close under the telephone, prepared to wait patiently. She
could just see the men on the terrace, could catch the dull glow red of
their cigars.

Her patience was not unduly tried. At the end of a quarter of an hour the
striker clicked furiously. Chris reached for the receiver and lay back
comfortably in her chair with the diaphragm to her ear. "Are you there?"
she asked, quietly. "Is that you, Mr. Steel?" To her great relief the
answering voice was Steel's own. He seemed to be a little puzzled as to
who his questioner was.

"Can't you guess?" Chris replied. "This is not the first time I have had
you called. You have not forgotten 218, Brunswick Square, yet?"

Chris smiled as she heard Steel's sudden exclamation.

"So you are my fair friend whom I saw in the dark?" he said. "Yes, I
recognise your voice now. You are Miss Chris--well, I won't mention the
name aloud, because people might ask what a well-regulated corpse meant
by rousing respectable people up at midnight. I hope you are not going to
get me into trouble again."

"No, but I am going to ask your advice and assistance. I want you to be
so good as to give me the plot of a story after I have told you the
details. And you are to scheme the thing out at once, please, because
delay is dangerous. Dr. Bell--"

"What's that? Will you tell me where you are speaking from?"

"I am at present located at Littimer Castle. Yes, Dr. Bell is here. Do
you want him?"

"I should think so," Steel exclaimed. "Please tell him at once that the
man who was found here half dead--you know the man I mean--got up and
dressed himself in the absence of the nurse and walked out of the
hospital this morning. Since then he has not been seen or heard of. I
have been looking up Bell everywhere. Will you tell him this at once?
I'll go into your matter afterwards. Don't be afraid; I'll tell the
telephone people not to cut us off till I ring. Please go at once."

The voice was urgent, not to say imperative. Chris dropped the
receiver into its space and crept into the darkness in the direction
of the terrace.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

A LITTLE FICTION

Bell seemed to know by intuition that Chris required him, or perhaps he
caught a glimpse of her white dress from the terrace. Anyway, he strolled
leisurely in her direction.

"Something has happened?" he whispered, as he came up.

"Well, yes," Chris replied, "though I should like to know how you
guessed that. I had no difficulty in getting Mr. Steel on the
telephone, but he would say nothing directly he heard that you were
here beyond a peremptory request that you were to be told at once that
Van Sneck has gone."

"Gone!" Bell echoed, blankly. "What do you mean by that?"

"He has disappeared from the hospital at Brighton to-day. Mr. Steel
thinks they were extra busy, or something of that kind. Anyway, Van Sneck
got up and dressed himself and left the hospital without being observed.
It seems extraordinary to me."

"And yet quite possible," Bell said, thoughtfully. "Van Sneck had
practically recovered from the flesh wounds; it was the injury to his
head that was the worst part. He resembled an irresponsible lunatic more
than anything else. Steel wants me, of course?"

"He suggests that you should go down to Brighton without delay."

"All right, I'll make some excuse to take the first train in the morning.
We've got a fine start of Henson, and that's a good thing. If Van Sneck
comes within his net we shall have a deal of trouble. I had hoped to get
permission to operate on Van Sneck, and relied upon him to solve the
mystery. And now you had better go back to your telephone."

Chris hurried back again. A whispered word satisfied her that Steel was
still at the other end.

"Dr. Bell starts as early as possible to-morrow," she said. "If you will
listen carefully I will give you a brief outline of all that has happened
since I have been here."

Chris proceeded to tell her story succinctly and briefly. From little
sounds and signs she could tell that Steel was greatly interested. The
story of the man with the thumb fascinated him. It appealed to his
professional instincts.

"And what do you want to do with him?" Steel asked.

"Well, you see, I have him in my power," Chris explained. "We can get the
other Rembrandt any time we like now, but that is quite a minor
consideration. What I want is for Merritt to know that I can have him
arrested at any time for stealing my star. It's Enid's star, as a matter
of fact; but that is a detail."

"An important one, surely," Steel's voice came thin and clear.
"Suppose that our dear friend chances to recognise it? ... No, don't
ring off yet."

"I'm not. Oh, you are speaking to the Exchange people ... Yes, yes; we
shall be a long time yet ... Are you there? Well, Henson has never seen
the star. Enid bought it just before the great trouble came, and
afterwards she never had the heart to wear it."

"I understand. You want Merritt to know this?"

"Well, I do and I don't," Chris explained. "I am anxious not to frighten
the man. I want to get him in my power, and I want to prove to him that
it would be to his advantage for him to come over to my side. Suppose
that Enid gave it out that the star had been stolen? And suppose that I
could save him at the critical moment? I shouldn't mind him thinking that
I had stolen the star in the first place. That is why I am asking you as
a novelist to help me."

"You would have made an excellent novelist yourself," David said,
admiringly. "Give me five minutes.... Are you there? I fancy I have it.
Can't you hear me? That's better. I'll see Miss Gates the first thing in
the morning and get her to go over to Longdean and see your sister....
Confound it, don't cut us off yet. What does it matter so long as the
messages are paid for? Nobody else wants the line. Well, I may for an
hour more.... Are you there? Very sorry; it's the fault of the Post
Office people. Here is the plot in a nutshell. Your sister has lost a
diamond star. She gives a minute description of it to the police, and
drops a hint to the effect that she believes it was taken away by
mistake--in other words, was stolen--from her in London by a chance
acquaintance called Christabel Lee--"

"Ah," Chris cried, "how clever you are!"

"I have long suspected it," the thin voice went on, drily. "The full
description of the star will be printed in the _Police Gazette_, a copy
of which every respectable pawnbroker always gets regularly. I suppose
the people where the star was pawned are respectable?"

"Highly so. They have quite a Bond Street establishment attached."

"So much the better. They will see the advertisement, and they will
communicate with the police. The Reverend James Merritt will be
arrested--"

"I don't quite like that," Chris suggested.

"Oh, it's necessary. He will be arrested at the castle. Knowing his
antecedents, the police will not stand upon any ceremony with him. You
will be filled with remorse. You have plunged back into a career of crime
again a being who was slowly climbing into the straight path once more.
You take the blame upon yourself--it was at your instigation that Merritt
pawned the star."

"But, really, Mr. Steel--"

"Oh, I know. But the end justifies the means. You save Mr. Merritt, there
is a bond of sympathy between you, he will regard you as a great light in
his interesting profession. You saved him because you had appropriated
the star yourself."

"And go to gaol instead of Mr. Merritt?"

"Not a bit of it. The star you deemed to be yours. You had one very like
it when you saw Miss Henson, when you were staying in London at the same
hotel. By some means the jewels got mixed. You are confident that an
exchange has been made. Also you are confident that if Miss Henson will
search her jewel-case she will find a valuable star that does not belong
to her. Miss Henson does so, she is distressed beyond measure, she offers
all kinds of apologies. Exit the police. You need not tell Merritt how
you get out of the difficulty, and thus you increase his respect for you.
There, that would make a very ingenious and plausible magazine story. It
should be more convincing in real life."

"Capital!" Chris murmured. "What an advantage it is to have a novelist to
advise one! Many, many thanks for all your kindness. Good-night!"

Chris rang off with a certain sense of relief. It was some time later
before she had a chance of conveying to Bell what had happened. He
listened gravely to all that Chris had to say.

"Just the sort of feather-brained idea that would occur to a novelist,"
he said. "For my part, I should prefer to confront Merritt with his
theft, and keep the upper hand of him that way."

"And he would mistrust me and betray me at the first opportunity.
Besides, in that case, he would know at once that I wanted to get to the
bottom of his connection with Reginald Henson. Mr. Steel's plan may be
bizarre, but it is safe."

"I never thought of that," Bell admitted. "I begin to imagine that
you are more astute than I gave you credit for, which is saying a
great deal."

Chris was down early the following morning, only to find Bell at
breakfast with every sign of making an early departure. He was very
sorry, he explained, gravely, to his host and Chris, but his letters gave
him no option, He would come back in a day or two if he might. A moment
later Henson came into the room, ostentatiously studying a Bradshaw.

"And where are you going?" Littimer asked. "Why do you all abandon me?
Reginald, do you mean to say that you are going to refuse me the light of
your countenance?"

"Is Dr. Bell going, too?" Henson asked, with just a suggestion of
uneasiness. "I mean--er--"

"Business," Bell said. "I came here at great personal
inconvenience. And you?"

"London," Henson replied. "A meeting to-day that I cannot get out of. A
couple of letters by this morning's post have decided me."

Chris said nothing; she appeared to be quite indifferent until she had a
chance to speak to Bell alone. She looked a little anxious.

"He has found out about Van Sneck," she said. "Truly he is a marvellous
man! And he had no letters this morning. I opened the post-bag
personally. But I'm glad he's going, because I shall have James Merritt
all to myself."

CHAPTER XXXIX

THE FASCINATION OF JAMES MERRITT

On the whole Mr. James Merritt, ex-convict and now humanitarian, was
enjoying himself immensely. He did not sleep at the castle, for Lord
Littimer drew the line there, but he contrived to get most of his meals
under that hospitable roof, and spent a deal of time there. It was by no
means the first time he had been "taken up" by the aristocracy since his
conversion, and his shyness was wearing off. Moreover, Henson had given
his henchman strict instructions to keep his eyes open with a view to
getting at the bottom of the Rembrandt mystery.

Still, there is always a crumpled rose-leaf somewhere, and Merritt had
his. A few days after Henson departed so hurriedly from town the stolen
Rembrandt disappeared from Merritt's rooms. Nobody knew anything about
it; the thing had vanished, leaving no trace of the thief behind.
Perhaps Merritt would have been less easy in Littimer's society had he
known that the missing print was securely locked away in the latter's
strong room. Still, had Merritt been acquainted with the classics,
_carpe diem_ would like as not have been his favourite motto. He
declined to worry over the matter until Henson's return. It was not for
him to know, yet, that Chris had actually gone over to Moreton Wells,
and, during the absence of Merritt's landlady, calmly walked into the
house and taken the picture away.

"You are going to see some fun presently," she said, coolly, to the
astonished Littimer, as she laid the missing picture before him. "No, I
shall not tell you anything more at present. You shall hear the whole
story when Reginald Henson stands in the pillory before you. You know now
that Henson was at the bottom of the plot to destroy Dr. Bell's
character?"

"I always felt that our Reginald was a great scoundrel," Littimer
purred over his cigarette. "And if you succeed in exposing him
thoroughly I shall watch the performance with the greatest possible
pleasure. I am not curious, my dear young lady, but I would give
sixpence to know who you are."

"Keep your sixpence," Chris laughed, "and you'll know all in good time.
All I ask is not to be astonished at anything that happens."

Littimer averred that he had long since lost the power of astonishment.
There was a brightness and restlessness about Chris to-day that
considerably added to her charms. It was nearly a week now since Bell and
Henson had departed, and in the meantime Chris had heard nothing from
Longdean. Half an hour before a telegram had arrived to the effect that a
gentleman in a blue coat might be expected at Littimer Castle at any
moment. The police were coming, and Merritt was late to-day. If Merritt
failed to turn up the whole situation would be spoilt. It was with a
feeling of unutterable relief that Chris saw him coming up the drive."

"Come on the terrace," she said. "I have something very serious to say to
you. Mr. Merritt, you have got us both into very serious trouble. Why did
you do it?"

"Ain't done nothing," Merritt said, doggedly. He repeated the old
formula, "What's up?"

"Er--it's about my diamond star," said Chris. "I lost it a few days ago.
If I had known what was going to happen I should have put up with my
loss. But I made inquiries through the police without saying a word to
anybody, and now I find the star was pawned in Moreton Wells."

"Oh, lor," Merritt gasped. "You don't mean to say the police know
that, miss?"

"Indeed I do. You see, once I allowed matters to go out of my hands I was
powerless. The case now rests entirely with the police. And I am informed
that they may come here and arrest you at any moment. I fear there is no
escape for you--you pawned the thing yourself in your own name. What a
thousand pities you yielded to sudden temptation."

"But I found it," Merritt whined. "I'll take my oath as I found it under
the terrace. I--I--was rambling along the cliffs one day and I found it.
And I didn't know it was yours. If I had known it was yours, I'd never
have gone and done no such a thing."

Chris shook her head sadly.

"And just as you were getting on so nicely," she said.

"That's it," Merritt whined, brokenly. "Just as I was properly spoofing
everybody as I--I mean just as I was getting used to a better life. But
you can save me, miss; you can say as you were hard up for money and
that, knowing as I knew the ropes, you got me to pawn it for you. Put it
in that way and there's not a policeman in England as can touch me."

"I had thought of it," Chris said, with a pretty assumption of distress.
"But, but--Mr. Merritt, I have a terrible confession to make. It was not
I who started the police: it was somebody else. You see, the star was not
my property at all. I--I got it in London."

Mr. Merritt looked up with involuntary admiration.

"You don't mean to say as you nicked it?" he asked. "Well, well."

Chris bent her face lower to conceal her agitation, Her shoulders were
heaving, but not with emotion. The warmth of Merritt's admiration had
moved her to silent laughter, and she had made the exact impression that
she had desired.

"I have telegraphed to the lady, who is more or less of a friend of
mine," she said. "I have urged her to take no further steps in the
matter. I fancy that she is a good and kind girl and that--but a reply
might come at any time."

There was a reply on the way now, as Chris knew perfectly well. The whole
thing had been carefully arranged and planned to the moment by Steel and
the others.

"I dare say they'll let you down easy," Merritt said, disconsolately;
"but it'll be hot for me. I've copped it too many times before, you see."

"Yes, I see," Chris said, thoughtfully. "Mr. Merritt, I have made up my
mind: if I had not--er--borrowed that star, it would not have been lost,
and you would not have found it, and there would have been no trouble. My
conscience would not rest if I allowed you to be dragged back into the
old life again. I am going to save you--I am going to tell the police
that you pawned that star for me at my instigation."

Merritt was touched even to tears. There was not an atom of chivalry in
the rascal's composition. He had little or no heed for the trouble that
his companion appeared to be piling up for herself, but he was touched to
the depths of his soul. Here was a clever girl, who in her own way
appeared to be a member of his profession, who was prepared to sacrifice
herself to save another. Self-sacrifice is a beautiful and tender thing,
and Merritt had no intention of thwarting it.

"Do that, and I'm your pal for life," he said, huskily. "And I never went
back on a pal yet. Ask anybody as really knows me. 'Tain't as if you
weren't one of us, neither. I'd give a trifle to know what your little
game is here, eh?"

Chris smiled meaningly. Merritt's delusion was distinctly to be fostered.

"You shall help me then, presently," she said in a mysterious whisper.
"Help me and keep your own counsel, and there will be the biggest job you
ever had in your life. Only let you and I get out of this mess, and we
shall see what we shall see presently."

Merritt looked speechless admiration. He had read of this class of
high-toned criminals in the gutter stories peddled by certain publishers,
but he had never hoped to meet one in the flesh. He was still gazing
open-mouthed at Chris as two men came along the avenue.

They were both in plain clothes, but they had "policeman" writ large all
over them.

"Cops, for a million," Merritt gurgled, with a pallid face. "You can tell
'em when you're asleep. And they are after me; they're coming this way.
I'll be all right presently."

"I hope so," Chris said, with a curling lip. "You look guilty
enough now."

Merritt explained that it was merely the first emotion, and would pass
off presently. Nor did he boast in vain. He was quite cool as the
officers came up and called him by name.

"That's me," Merritt said. "What's the trouble?"

One of the officers explained. He had no warrant, he said, but all the
same he would have to trouble Mr. Merritt to accompany him to Moreton
Wells. A diamond star not yet definitely identified had been handed over
to the police, the same having been pawned by James Merritt.

"That's quite right," Merritt said, cheerfully. "I pawned it for
this young lady here--Miss Lee. Of course, if it is not her
property, why, then--"

The officer was palpably taken back. He knew more than he cared to say.
The star had been pledged by Merritt, as he cheerfully admitted, but the
owner of the star had lost the gem in London under suspicious
circumstances in which Miss Lee was mixed up. And at present it was not
the policy of the police to arrest Miss Lee. That would come later.

"I am afraid that there has been a misapprehension altogether," Chris
said. "Allow me to explain: Mr. Merritt, would you step aside for a
moment? I have to speak of private matters. Thank you. Now, sir, I am
quite prepared to admit that the ornament pledged does not belong to me,
but to Miss Henson, whom I met in London. I took the star by mistake. You
may smile, but I have one very like it. If Miss Henson had searched her
jewels properly she would have found that she had my star--that I had
hers. I heard of the business quite by accident, and telegraphed to Miss
Henson to look searchingly amongst her jewels. She has a large amount,
and might easily have overlooked my star. Here is a boy with a telegram.
Will you take it from him and read it aloud? It is addressed to me, you
will find."

It was. It was signed "Enid Henson"; it went on to say that the sender
was fearfully sorry for all the trouble she had caused, but that she had
found Miss Lee's star with her jewels. Also she had telegraphed at once
to the police at Moreton Wells to go no farther.

"Looks like a mistake," the officer muttered. "But if we get that
telegram--"

"Which has reached the police-station by this time," Chris interrupted.
"Come into the castle and ask the question over the telephone. I suppose
you are connected?"

The officer said they were; in fact, they had only recently joined the
Exchange. A brief visit to the telephone, and the policeman came back,
with a puzzled air and a little more deference in his manner, with the
information that he was to go back at once, as the case was closed.

"I've seen some near things in my time, but nothing nearer than this," he
said. "Still, it's all right now. Very sorry to have troubled you, miss."

The officers departed with the air of men who had to be satisfied,
despite themselves. Merritt came forward with an admiration almost
fawning. He did not know quite how the thing had happened, but Chris had
done the police. Smartness and trickery of that kind were the highest
form of his idolatry. His admiration was nearly beyond words.

"Well, strike me," he gasped. "Did ever anyone ever see anything like
that? You, as cool as possible, and me with my heart in my mouth all
the time. And there ain't going to be no trouble, no sort of bother
over the ticket?"

"You hand over that ticket to me," Chris smiled, "and there will be an
end of the matter. And if you try to play me false in any way, why, it
will be a bad day for you. Give me your assistance, and it will be the
best day's work you ever did in your life."

Merritt's heart was gained. His pride was touched.

"Me go back on you?" he cried, hoarsely. "After what you've done? Only
say the word, only give old Jim Merritt a call, and it's pitch-and-toss
to manslaughter for those pretty eyes of yours. Good day's work! Aye, for
both of us."

And Chris thought so too.

CHAPTER XL

A USEFUL DISCOVERY

Waiting with the eagerness of the greyhound in leash, David Steel was
more annoyed and vexed over the disappearance of the wounded Van Sneck
than he cared to admit. He had an uneasy feeling that the unseen foe had
checkmated him again. And he had built up so many hopes upon this
strangely-uninvited guest of his. If that man spoke he could tell the
truth. And both Cross and Bell had declared that he would not die.

David found Cross in a frame of mind something like his own. It was late
in the afternoon before it transpired that Van Sneck was gone, and,
unfortunately, David did not know where to find Bell just at the moment.
Cross had very little to say.

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