The Deaves Affair Part 29

"Not yet."

"Mind, you are to find out everything you can, but you are not to take any action without consulting me."

"I understand."

While the servants were at breakfast Evan went to the water heater in the bas.e.m.e.nt and, opening the valve, steamed the envelope open. He took the contents to the little room off the library to read. This is what met his eyes:

"Madagascar Hotel August--

"Mrs. George Deaves:

Dear Madam:

I am exceedingly sorry to be obliged to inform you that my customary fortnightly contribution to your charity must be omitted on this occasion, the reason being that the activity of a certain agitator has resulted in shutting off the income from my business, and I am without funds. I am sure you will agree with me that these agitators ought to be discouraged in every possible way. Let us make a stand against them. You can reach me at this hotel at any time.

Yours faithfully, RODERICK FRELINGHUYSEN.

This had an innocent sound, and for a moment Evan supposed he had made a mistake in opening it. But he read it again, and began to grin as the various implications of the note became clear to him. "d.a.m.n clever!" he thought. "If this was found lying about no one could suspect anything from it. Not even George Deaves. Why, it almost took me in and I was forewarned!"

Evan thoughtfully considered all that the letter meant. "First of all it shows that Maud is not a regular member of the gang, but that they have been whacking up with her just to gain her good will. That's why she supplies the pressure from this end. It all fits in! Of course I am the agitator that he refers to, and he's suggesting to her that she get me fired. But why does he give her an address so that she can write to him? By George! I have it! He's giving her a chance to send him a story that can be used against the old man!"

He took a copy of the letter, sealed it up again and slipped it back among the rest of the mail matter in the hall.

During the morning he was obliged to accompany Simeon Deaves on one of his peregrinations. When they returned for lunch Evan sought out Josefa, the lady's-maid.

"What's your mistress been doing all morning?" he asked.

"Oh, Maud's got a new bug!" was the scornful answer. "Been practising on the typewriter for hours."

Evan p.r.i.c.ked up his ears. "The typewriter?"

"She went out right after breakfast and brought home a second-hand machine. Been beating the d.i.c.kens out of it ever since."

"What is she writing?"

"Search me. Won't let me come near her. Looks like a story or something."

"Get a glimpse of it if you can."

"No chance. She's got eyes all round her head."

"Can you work a typewriter?"

"A little bit."

"Well, when she goes out stick a piece of paper in the machine and strike every key once, see? I want an impression of every character."

"I get you."

After lunch Evan had to waste more precious hours walking around with the old man. When they returned Josefa reported that Mrs. Deaves had finished her typewriting about three, and had then done up the sheets in a large envelope, and after carefully destroying the spoiled sheets, had carried the envelope out, presumably to post it. Josefa gave Evan the paper he had asked for, with a print of each character of the typewriter.

It was then five o'clock. City letters require two hours or more for delivery, and supposing this package of Mrs. Deaves' to be an answer to "Mr. Frelinghuysen's" note, it would soon be due at the Hotel Madagascar. Evan determined to go and ask for it himself. He did not suppose that Mr. Frelinghuysen was stopping at the Madagascar. That would be too simple. He knew, as everybody knows, what an easy means the "call" letters at a great hotel offers for the exchange of illicit correspondence.

The Madagascar, as all the world knows, is one of our biggest and busiest hotels. Evan went boldly to the desk and asked if there were any letters for Mr. Roderick Frelinghuysen. The name sounded imposing.

The busy clerk skimmed over the letters in the F box, and, tossing him a bulky envelope, thought no more about it.

Evan, in high satisfaction, wended his way to another hotel in the neighbourhood, and there at his leisure tore the envelope open and read--well, very much what he expected: a story designed to be used for blackmailing purposes against Simeon Deaves. No letter accompanied it; none was necessary.

This story dealt with ancient history, and contained uglier matter than mere ridicule of the old man's avarice. It had to do with the circ.u.mstances of the marriage of George Deaves to Maud Warrender and what followed thereupon. In other words, Maud had been engaged in the amiable occupation of fouling her own nest. According to this account Simeon Deaves had instigated his weak and complaisant son to woo Miss Warrender because her father was President of a railroad that Simeon Deaves coveted. As a result of the marriage Deaves, who up to that time had only been a money-lender, had succeeded in entering the realms of high finance. No sooner was his own position secure, so the story went, than Simeon Deaves set himself to work to undermine Warrender, and in the end ousted him from his railway and ruined him.

This tale had none of the finesse and humour of that written by the blackmailers; it was simply abusive. Yet Maud had not so far forgotten herself as to show her hand. The facts were such as many persons beside herself might have been aware of.

Evan painstakingly compared the sheets of the story with the paper Josefa had given him. Every typewriter, save it is just from the factory, has its peculiarities. There was enough here to make out a case: "e" was badly worn and had a microscopic piece knocked off its tail; "a," "w," "s" and "p" were out of alignment; there was something the matter with "g," so that the following letter generally piled up on top of it.

In short, Evan held in his hands positive evidence of Maud Deaves'

treachery. But upon consideration he decided not to put it before her husband at least for the present. In the first place, he didn't relish taking the responsibility of breaking up the Deaves family, and in the second place it was clear that the woman was only a tool in the hands of a rascal far cleverer than she. To deprive him of his tool would not break up the rascal's game; he could get another. Therefore Evan decided to keep his discovery to himself, and use it if possible to land the princ.i.p.al in the affair.

He considered whether he should have the desk at the Madagascar watched with a view to apprehending "Mr. Frelinghuysen" when he asked for his letter, but decided against that also. So clever a fox would hardly be likely to walk into so open a trap. He would send an innocent agent for the letter, while he watched in safety. On the whole it seemed best to do nothing that might put him on his guard, but to wait until he attempted to use his story, for a chance to land him.

He procured another envelope, had the hotel stenographer address it, and, sealing up the ma.n.u.script, carried it back to the Madagascar and handed it in at the desk "for Mr. Frelinghuysen," careful to choose a different clerk from the one who had given it to him.

It must have been called for shortly afterwards and acted upon at once.

Next morning, when Evan arrived at the Deaves house, the story was already back there. The customary violent family conference was in progress in the library. Evan guessed from their expressions that his name had entered into this quarrel. Indeed, Mrs. Deaves was for ordering him out of the room again, but the old man was too quick for her. He placed the latest letter in Evan's hands. Mrs. Deaves turned away with a shrug.

"Well, you know what I think of it," she said.

Evan read:

"Mr. George Deaves:

Dear Sir:

You thought we were bluffing, didn't you, when we said we had a chapter to add to your father's biography? Well, here it is. Your rejection of our proposal was received during the absence from town of our chief.

That accounts for the delay. Upon his return our chief instructed that you were to be given a chance to read the matter before it was published. So we enclose it. In the absence of any further communication from you before noon, it will appear in this evening's edition of the _Clarion_.

To-day your procedure for communicating with us must be as follows: Bring the specified sum in cash to the house at 11 Van Dorn street. It must be enclosed in an envelope or package. You must approach on foot.

Ring the bell; hand it to the woman who opens the door with the words: 'For the gentleman up-stairs' and leave at once. You may bring a single attendant with you if you choose--you would probably be afraid to come without one. But neither you nor he must linger, nor question the woman, nor seek to penetrate beyond the front door. If you do so, or bring any other persons with you or after you, let the consequences be or your own head.

Yours as ever, THE IKUNAHKATSI."

"What are you going to do?" asked Evan of George Deaves.

Maud s.n.a.t.c.hed the answer from her husband's lips. "He's going to pay!"

she cried. "He can take you with him if he wants, as there's no one else available. I've no objection to that. But if you go you're to do exactly what the letter tells you and no more!"

As Evan continued to look to George Deaves, the latter was obliged to nod a feeble a.s.sent.