The Datchet Diamonds Part 22

"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 dare you, Mr. Ireland, so foully slander him!"

Mr. Ireland showed symptoms of being surprised. He had an eye for a lady, and still more, perhaps, for a pretty girl. And by neither was he 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's skirts, as if you were afraid?"

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

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

Mr. Franklyn shot a glance at Mr. Ireland which was meant to be pregnant 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 not unreasonable. 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 worthy to stand! Because a man calls himself a policeman, and by doubtful methods contrives to earn the money with which to keep himself alive, is such an one ent.i.tled to fling mud at men of stainless honour and untarnished reputation, and then to excuse himself by pretending that flinging mud is his duty? If you, Mr. Franklyn, are afraid of a policeman, merely because he's a policeman, I a.s.sure you I am not. And I take leave to tell Mr. Ireland that there are policemen who are, at least, as much in want of being kept in order as any member of the criminal cla.s.ses 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 in standing up for Mr. Paxton."

Again the lady stamped her foot.

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

The detective coughed apologetically.

"Perfectly true, madam. But I can't help it. I a.s.sure you I always do admire a young woman who sticks up for her young man when he happens to find himself in a bit of a sc.r.a.pe. But, if you take my tip, Miss Strong, you'll leave us men to manage these sort of things. You'll only do Mr. Paxton harm by interfering. You tell her, Mr. Franklyn, if what I say isn't true."

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

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

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

"And what is this?"

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

"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's back being turned to poke and pry among his private possessions in order to gratify your curiosity! Is that the science of detection?"

She transferred her attentions to the manager. "And you--are those the lines on which your hotel is conducted, that you hand over, in their absence, the belongings of your guests to the tender mercies of such a man as this? If so, then your methods of management ought to be known more widely than they are. Decent people will then know what they have to expect when they trust themselves inside your doors."

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

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

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

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

"I'm going now, Mr. Treadwater. I'll leave one of my men behind me. If Mr. 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 he shows 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 prove Mr. Paxton's innocence, instead of talking big about it, you might do him more good than you're likely to do by the way in which you've been going on up to now. I'll put these things together and take them with me."

By "these things" Mr. Ireland meant Mr. Paxton's. He moved towards the table. Miss Strong thrust herself between him and it.

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

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

"Very good, Miss Strong. There is nothing there which is of the slightest consequence in this particular case. You are welcome to take them in your custody. Only, remember, you a.s.sume the responsibility for their safe keeping."

"The man who forces open another man's portmanteau without the knowledge of its owner becomes, I fancy, at once responsible for its contents. And I promise you that if the slightest article is missing you 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 had done.

"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 on you. We'll see if turn and turn about is not fair play, and if you dare to try to prevent my going exactly where I please."

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

"Any report, Hollier?"

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

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

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