The Doctor of Pimlico Part 13

"Then you learned nothing, eh?"

"Nothing," she said in a low voice. "I have ever since wondered what could have been the private matter upon which he so particularly desired to see me. He felt death creeping upon him, or--or else he knew himself to be a doomed man--or he would never have penned me that note."

"The letter in question was not mentioned at the inquest?"

"No. My stepfather urged me to regard the affair as a strict secret. He feared a scandal because I had gone to Harry's rooms."

"You have no idea, then, what was the nature of the communication which the captain wished to make to you?" asked the novelist.

"Not the slightest," replied the girl, yet with some hesitation. "It is all a mystery--a mystery which has ever haunted me--a mystery which haunts me now!"

They had halted, and were standing together beneath a great oak, already partially bare of leaves. He looked into her beautiful face, sweet and full of purity as a child's. Then, in a low, intense voice, he said: "Cannot you be quite frank with me, Enid--cannot you give me more minute details of the sad affair? Captain Bellairs was in his usual health that day when he left you at Salisbury, was he not?"

"Oh, yes. I drove him to the station in our car."

"Have you any idea why your stepfather sent him up to London?"

"Not exactly, except that at breakfast he said to my mother that he must send Bellairs up to London. That was all."

"And at his rooms, whom did you find?"

"Barker, his man," she replied. "The story he told me was a curious one, namely, that his master had arrived from Salisbury at two o'clock, and at half-past two had sent him out upon a message down to Richmond. On his return, a little after five, he found his master absent, but the place smelt strongly of perfume, which seemed to point to the fact that the captain had had a lady visitor."

"He had no actual proof of that?" exclaimed Fetherston, interrupting.

"I think not. He surmised it from the fact that his master disliked scent, even in his toilet soap. Again, upon the table in the hall Barker's quick eye noticed a small white feather; this he showed me, and it was evidently from a feather boa. In the fire-grate a letter had been burnt. These two facts had aroused the man-servant's curiosity."

"What time did the captain return?"

"Almost immediately. He changed into his dinner jacket, and went forth again, saying that he intended to dine at the Naval and Military Club, and return to his rooms in time to change and catch the eleven-fifteen train from Waterloo for Salisbury that same night. He even told Barker which suit of clothes to prepare. It seems, however, that he came in about a quarter-past nine, and sent Barker on a message to Waterloo Station. On the man's return he found his master fainting in his arm-chair. He called Barker to get him a gla.s.s of water--his throat seemed on fire, he said. Then, obtaining pen and paper, he wrote that hurried message to me. Barker stated that three minutes after addressing the envelope he fell into a state of coma, the only word he uttered being my name." And she pressed her lips together.

"It is evident, then, that he earnestly desired to speak to you--to tell you something," her companion remarked.

"Yes," she went on quickly. "I found him lying back in his big arm-chair, quite dead. Barker had feared to leave his side, and summoned the doctor and messenger-boy by telephone. When I entered, however, the doctor had not arrived."

"It was a thousand pities that you were too late. He wished to make some important statement to you, without a doubt."

"I rushed to him at once, but, alas! was just too late."

"He carried that secret, whatever it was, with him to the grave,"

Fetherston said reflectively. "I wonder what it could have been?"

"Ah!" sighed the girl, her face yet paler. "I wonder--I constantly wonder."

"The doctors who made the post-mortem could not account for the death, I believe. I have read the account of the inquest."

"Ah! then you know what transpired there," the girl said quickly. "I was in court, but was not called as a witness. There was no reason why I should be asked to make any statement, for Barker, in his evidence, made no mention of the letter which the dead man had sent me. I sat and heard the doctors--both of whom expressed themselves puzzled. The coroner put it to them whether they suspected foul play, but the reply they gave was a distinctly negative one."

"The poor fellow's death was a mystery," her companion said. "I noticed that an open verdict was returned."

"Yes. The most searching inquiry was made, although the true facts regarding it were never made public. Sir Hugh explained one day at the breakfast-table that in addition to the two doctors who made the examination of the body, Professors Dale and Boyd, the a.n.a.lysts of the Home Office, also made extensive experiments, but could detect no symptom of poisoning."

"Where he had dined that night has never been discovered, eh?"

"Never. He certainly did not dine at the club."

"He may have dined with his lady visitor," Fetherston remarked, his eyes fixed upon her.

She hesitated for a moment, as though unwilling to admit that Bellairs should have entertained the unknown lady in secret.

"He may have done so, of course," she said with some reluctance.

"Was there any other fact beside the feather which would lead one to suppose that a lady had visited him?"

"Only the perfume. Barker declared that it was a sweet scent, such as he had never smelt before. The whole place 'reeked with it,' as he put it."

"No one saw the lady call at his chambers?"

"n.o.body came forward with any statement," replied the girl. "I myself made every inquiry possible, but, as you know, a woman is much handicapped in such a matter. Barker, who was devoted to his master, spared no effort, but he has discovered nothing."

"For aught we know to the contrary, Captain Bellairs' death may have been due to perfectly natural causes," Fetherston remarked.

"It may have been, but the fact of his mysterious lady visitor, and that he dined at some unknown place on that evening, aroused my suspicions.

Yet there was no evidence whatever either of poison or of foul play."

Fetherston raised his eyes and shot a covert glance at her--a glance of distinct suspicion. His keen, calm gaze was upon her, noting the unusual expression upon her countenance, and how her gloved fingers had clenched themselves slightly as she had spoken. Was she telling him all that she knew concerning the extraordinary affair? That was the question which had arisen at that moment within his mind.

He had perused carefully the cold, formal reports which had appeared in the newspapers concerning the "sudden death" of Captain Henry Bellairs, and had read suspicion between the lines, as only one versed in mysteries of crime could read. Were not such mysteries the basis of his profession?

He had been first attracted by it as a possible plot for a novel, but, on investigation, had discovered, to his surprise, that Bellairs had been Sir Hugh's trusted secretary and the friend of Enid Orlebar.

The poor fellow had died in a manner both sudden and mysterious, as a good many persons die annually. To the outside world there was no suspicion whatever of foul play.

Yet, being in possession of certain secret knowledge, Fetherston had formed a theory--one that was amazing and startling--a theory which he had, after long deliberation, made up his mind to investigate and prove.

This girl had loved Harry Bellairs before he had met her, and because of it the poor fellow had fallen beneath the hand of a secret a.s.sa.s.sin.

She stood there in ignorance that he had already seen and closely questioned Barker in London, and that the man had made an admission, an amazing statement--namely, that the subtle Eastern perfume upon Enid Orlebar, when she arrived so hurriedly and excitedly at Half Moon Street, was the same which had greeted his nostrils when he entered his master's chambers on his return from that errand upon which he had been sent.

Enid Orlebar had been in the captain's rooms during his absence!

CHAPTER XIII

THE MYSTERIOUS MR. MALTWOOD

NOW Enid Orlebar's story contained several discrepancies.