Juggernaut Part 6

"_C'est bien vingt-quatre, madame_," said the driver, as if to help her.

"_Oui--ca va bien_," she replied, but still hesitating.

Esther had turned at sound of her voice just in time to see her gather her silver fox closer about her neck, clutch her red morocco _pochette_ against her chest and enter the shop. The taxi, with a little "cling"

of the meter, shot off down the hill. Esther touched her companion's arm.

"That was Lady Clifford who went into that shop," she said.

Miss Paull dropped her tortoisesh.e.l.l lorgnon.

"Was it? I didn't notice. Where? What shop?"

"This one, just here."

"Really! That's an odd, dirty little place for her to go into!"

She raised her lorgnon again and examined the printing on the door. It was "_Abel Klement, achat de bijoux, anciens et modernes_." Then, not content with this superficial inspection, she went close to the door and, bending, gazed with frank curiosity into the interior. Lacking her indifference to appearances, Esther made a pretence of looking into the window.

"She's taking something in a small box out of her bag," announced the Englishwoman after a deliberate scrutiny. "Ah, of course, some bit of jewellery to be repaired. No, she's not opening the box, after all.

She's following the man out through the door at the back of the shop.

Now she's gone."

Satisfied that she could ascertain no more, Miss Paull turned away from the door.

"Doesn't look at all her sort of shop," she remarked thoughtfully as they pursued their way. "Such a dingy little second-rate place. And why do you suppose she came up in a taxi instead of her own car?"

She appeared to ponder this question so deeply that Esther was amused at what seemed to her a morbid desire to scent a mystery in an affair which, no doubt, had the most ordinary explanation.

"Now _I_ should say," her companion added, confidentially, "that that fashionable lady is up to something she doesn't want known. That is _my_ conviction--you can take it or leave it."

CHAPTER V

"I say, have you got any matches anywhere?"

Esther jumped at the sudden sound of a man's voice close to her ear, and looked up from the accounts she was writing. She had heard someone moving about in the salon, but she had thought it must be Jacques, who a few minutes before had been cleaning the bra.s.s on the front door.

The voice, which addressed her casually and without any preliminary greeting, stirred something in her memory. She rose from her desk by the window and shot the intruder a glance, at the same time reaching the matches from the sideboard.

"Here you are," she said, holding out the box.

The visitor, cigarette in mouth and hands in pockets, sauntered into the room and took it from her. He was young, English, immaculately dressed, except for a rather baggy Burberry, worn loosely over his tweed suit, and he carried a pair of very smart motoring gloves, which he cast upon the table. His manner was at once hard and immature, languid and curiously restless. A second glance a.s.sured Esther that her first suspicion was correct. Undoubtedly he was the young man she had seen on several occasions, notably with the Frenchwoman at the Restaurant des Amba.s.sadeurs.

Puffing contemplatively, he let his eyes roam about the room.

"Doctor still out?" he inquired in a vacant tone.

"Yes, but he'll probably be home in a few minutes. It's nearly lunch-time."

She was going to ask if she could do anything for him, but she decided the question was superfluous. He had the air of a friend, not a patient, of an intimate dropping in for an informal call. It came to her that she must amend her opinion that Dr. Sartorius was quite without social ties. She was about to return to her work when the young man's roving eyes reached her in their tour and rested upon her face for several seconds, their vacant gaze giving way to speculative attention.

"You have a familiar look, you know," he remarked. "I seem to recall seeing you somewhere. Where was it?"

Esther met his scrutiny for a moment, then slowly shook her head.

"Odd. You've not been here before, have you? With Sartorius, I mean?"

"No, never."

He carefully flicked an ash upon the rug, then looked at her again.

"Yet I'm positive I've seen your face somewhere about Cannes." The problem appeared mildly to interest him. "Have you any idea where it could have been?"

She regarded him for some seconds, considering what to say.

"Yes," she replied deliberately. "I can tell you where it was. At least, I believe I know."

"Where?"

"In the grill-room of the Carlton. About a fortnight to three weeks ago, at lunch."

"Oh!"--he weighed the suggestion for a moment. "You may be right. I daresay."

Resolved not to mention that other encounter when he had been with Lady Clifford, Esther grew bolder.

"Weren't you there with two ladies, rather Spanish-looking, one much older than the other?"

He raised his brows and blew out a cloud of smoke.

"I shouldn't wonder," he a.s.sented, and seemed to dismiss the subject from his thoughts.

While Esther resumed her task he roamed aimlessly about, winding up again in the salon, where she heard him rustling a newspaper. Jacques, coming in to lay the table for _dejeuner_, glanced across the hall and whispered to Esther.

"That _capitaine_ will stay for _dejeuner_. It is good I have a _ragout_ to-day, there will be _a.s.sez_ for three. I need only to put another egg in the omelette."

He laid three places, then from the recess at the bottom of the sideboard he produced a c.o.c.ktail shaker and a variety of bottles.

"That young man he stay here once for three weeks," remarked Jacques.

"Always he mix the c.o.c.ktails, many different kind. But to-day he will not like it that I have no ice."

A latch-key grated in the outer door, the doctor's heavy step resounded along the hall, pausing at the salon.

"Ah, Holliday," he said without surprise. "I saw your car outside."

"About the last you'll see of it, doctor," the visitor replied, joining him. "I'm going to sell it. Know anybody who wants a decent little car cheap?"

The two entered the _salle a manger_ together. Esther saw the doctor give his friend a slow ruminative glance before inquiring: