Red Money Part 23

She colored hotly when she asked the question, as it struck her suddenly that perhaps this plotter knew of Garvington's slip regarding the check.

But as that had been burnt by Pine at the time of her marriage, she reflected that even if Silver knew about it, he could do nothing.

Unless, and it was this thought that made her turn red, Garvington had again risked contact with the criminal courts. The idea was not a pleasant one, but being a brave woman, she faced the possibility boldly.

"Well?" she asked calmly, as he did not reply immediately. "What have you to say?"

"It's about Pine's death," said Silver bluntly.

"Sir Hubert, if you please."

"And why, Lady Agnes?" Silver raised his faint eyebrows. "We were more like brothers than master and servant. And remember that it was by the penny toys that I invented your husband first made money."

"In talking to me, I prefer that you should call my late husband Sir Hubert," insisted the widow haughtily. "What have you discovered relative to his death?"

Silver did not answer the question directly. "Sir Hubert, since you will have it so, Lady Agnes, was a gypsy," he remarked carelessly.

"That was made plain at the inquest, Mr. Silver."

"Quite so, Lady Agnes, but there were other things not made plain on that occasion. It was not discovered who shot him."

"You tell me nothing new. I presume you have come to explain that you have discovered a clew to the truth?"

Silver raised his pale face steadily. "Would you be glad if I had?"

"Certainly! Can you doubt it?"

The man shirked a reply to this question also. "Sir Hubert did not treat me over well," he observed irrelevantly.

"I fear that has nothing to do with me, Mr. Silver."

"And I was dimissed from my post," he went on imperturbably.

"On Mr. Jarwin's advice," she informed him quickly. "There was no need for you to be retained. But I believe that you were given a year's salary in lieu of notice."

"That is so," he admitted. "I am obliged to you and to Mr. Jarwin for the money, although it is not a very large sum. Considering what I did for Sir Hubert, and how he built up his fortune out of my brains, I think that I have been treated shabbily."

Lady Agnes rose, and moved towards the fireplace to touch the ivory b.u.t.ton of the electric bell. "On that point I refer you to Mr. Jarwin,"

she said coldly. "This interview has lasted long enough and can lead to nothing."

"It may lead to something unpleasant unless you listen to me," said Silver acidly. "I advise you not to have me turned out, Lady Agnes."

"What do you mean?" She dropped the hand she had extended to ring the bell, and faced the smooth-faced creature suddenly. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"If you will sit down, Lady Agnes, I can explain."

"I can receive your explanation standing," said the widow, frowning. "Be brief, please."

"Very well. To put the matter in a nutsh.e.l.l, I want five thousand pounds."

"Five thousand pounds!" she echoed, aghast.

"On account," said Silver blandly. "On account, Lady Agnes."

"And for what reason?"

"Sir Hubert was a gypsy," he said again, and with a significant look.

"Well?"

"He stopped at the camp near Abbot's Wood."

"Well?"

"There is a gypsy girl there called Chaldea."

"Chaldea! Chaldea!" muttered the widow, pa.s.sing her hand across her brow. "I have heard that name. Oh, yes. Miss Greeby mentioned it to me as the name of a girl who was sitting as Mr. Lambert's model."

"Yes," a.s.sented Silver, grinning. "She is a very beautiful girl."

The color rushed again to the woman's cheeks, but she controlled her emotions with an effort. "So Miss Greeby told me!" She knew that the man was hinting that Lambert admired the girl in question, but her pride prevented her admitting the knowledge. "Chaldea is being painted as Esmeralda to the Quasimodo of her lover, a Servian gypsy called Kara, as I have been informed, Mr. Silver. But what has all this to do with me?"

"Don't be in a hurry, Lady Agnes. It will take time to explain."

"How dare you take this tone with me?" demanded the widow, clenching her hands. "Leave the room, sir, or I shall have you turned out."

"Oh, I shall leave since you wish it," replied Silver, rising slowly and smoothing his silk hat with his sleeve. "But of course I shall try and earn the reward you offered, by taking the letter to the police."

Agnes was so surprised that she closed again the door she had opened for her visitor's exit. "What letter?"

"That one which was written to inveigle Sir Hubert to The Manor on the night he was murdered," replied Silver slowly, and suddenly raising his eyes he looked at her straightly.

"I don't understand," she said in a puzzled way. "I have never heard that such a letter was in existence. Where is it?"

"Chaldea has it, and will not give it up unless she receives five thousand pounds," answered the man glibly. "Give it to me and it pa.s.ses into your possession, Lady Agnes."

"Give you what?"

"Five thousand pounds--on account."

"On account of blackmail. How dare you make such a proposition to me?"

"You know," said Silver pointedly.

"I know nothing. It is the first time I have heard of any letter. Who wrote it, may I ask?"

"You know," said Silver again.

Lady Agnes was so insulted by his triumphant look that she could have struck his grinning face. However, she had too strong a nature to lower herself in this way, and pointed to a chair. "Let me ask you a few questions, Mr. Silver," she said imperiously.

"Oh, I am quite ready to answer whatever you choose to ask," he retorted, taking his seat again and secretly surprised at her self-control.