The Master Detective Part 24

"That is the young man at the Silesian Emba.s.sy," I said. "He is evidently going back. Are we to see Mademoiselle Duplaix come along next?"

"We are only concerned with Lanning for the present," Quarles answered, "and we have got to travel in the same carriage with him and Nixon. I expect they have tipped the guard to get a carriage to themselves. You must use your authority with him, Wigan, and show him that we are Scotland Yard men. Suggest that he put us into the carriage at the last moment with many apologies because there is no room elsewhere. In these disguises they will not recognize us."

The two Englishmen and the Silesian did not approach each other, and apparently were quite ignorant of the fact that they were traveling by the same train. I made the necessary arrangements with the guard, and just as the train was starting we were bundled into the carriage, Quarles blowing and puffing in a most natural manner.

"Sorry," he panted, speaking in broken English; "it is a train quite full, and I say to the man I must go. He put us in here. I am grieved to disturb you."

Nixon said it didn't matter, but Lanning looked annoyed.

Quarles talked to me chiefly about a wife he was returning to at Bohn. He became almost maudlin in his sentiment, and at intervals he raised his voice sufficiently to allow our traveling companions to overhear the conversation.

Presently Quarles leaned towards me in a confidential manner, and said in a whisper which was intentionally loud enough for the others to hear:

"From Bohn I go to Silesia to see the new flying machine."

"What flying machine?" I asked.

"Ah, it was a secret what Silesia have got hold of. It was wonderful. I myself tell you so, and I know. I--"

"What do you know about it?"

Lanning was leaning from his corner looking at Quarles.

"Steady," said the professor. "If your hand does not from your pocket come in one blink of an eye you are a dead man. This is a big matter."

Quarles had covered him with a revolver, and following his lead I covered Nixon.

For a moment it was a tableau, not a sound nor a movement in the carriage.

"As you say, it is a big matter," said Lanning, taking his hand from his pocket.

He was for diplomacy rather than force, or perhaps he was a coward at heart. Nixon showed more courage and was quicker in his movements. His revolver was halfway out before I had slid along the seat and had my weapon at his head.

"It is of no use," said Quarles. "It is not by accident we are here. We know, no matter how, but we know for certain that the plans of a wonderful aeroplane which cannot come to harm, and a model of it, are traveling by this train to-night. We came here to take them. We are sorry to disturb you, but it is necessary."

Lanning laughed.

"Would it astonish you to hear we are after the very same things?"

"It would, because I tell you they are in this carriage."

"Where?" asked Lanning, still laughing.

"There, in that big portmanteau." And Quarles pointed to one on the rack above Nixon's head.

I was only just in time to bring my weapon down on Nixon's wrist as he whipped out his revolver.

"Hold him, Wigan; he is dangerous," said Quarles, speaking in his natural voice. "We will have a look in that portmanteau, Mr. Lanning."

The plans and the model in its wooden case were there. Lanning was too dumbfounded to ask questions, and Nixon offered no explanation just then.

I had wrested the revolver from him, and he sat there in silence.

"It was very cleverly thought out, Mr. Nixon," said Quarles. "You see, Mr. Lanning, your friend, having stolen these things, intended to allow time to elapse before attempting to get them out of the country, but his hand was forced when Mademoiselle Duplaix telephoned to you. The foreigner who called upon her for the plans puzzled him. There was something in the plot he did not understand. Two things were clear to him, however; first, that he must act without delay, and secondly, that mademoiselle's visitor would implicate her and cause us to make minute inquiries in her direction--that a false trail was laid, in fact. So, aware that he would find difficulty at the ports, he carefully suggested to your mind that a journey to Silesia would be a useful move. Your mission would be known at the ports, and you and your friend would pa.s.s through without special examination."

"That is so," said Lanning.

"And you would have been cleverly fooled," said Quarles, "As for Mademoiselle Duplaix, I confess I should have watched her keenly had I not been the mysterious foreigner."

"But my note to her?" said Lanning.

"Was exceedingly useful, but I used it to get the truth out of Winbush,"

and Quarles told the man-servant's story in detail. "Winbush, you see, was in a dazed condition, and was deceived. In the dark Nixon pretended to be you. I suppose it was a sudden inspiration when he found himself disturbed, and his instructions to Winbush stopped your servant from questioning you. Had he done so a suspicion concerning your friend might have been aroused in your mind. Winbush, however, went a little beyond his instructions, and said he thought a woman was present, because of a perfume he noticed when he first entered the room. That particular perfume is used by Mademoiselle Duplaix, and I should hazard a guess that Mr. Nixon had stolen her handkerchief that evening, not a criminal offense, but a matter of flirtation."

"But he was at Lady Chilcot's, and left there with me," said Lanning.

"If he has kept his program. I expect you will find some consecutive places in it blank. Until this afternoon, Mr. Lanning, I confess that I was uncertain whether you had been your own burglar or not, for it was evident to me that your man knew something. I was convinced you were innocent when you wrote that note for me, I rather wonder Mr. Nixon did not realize the danger, but I suppose he felt confident that Mademoiselle's visitor had entirely put me on the wrong trail. I do not think Mademoiselle Duplaix is in any way a party to the theft, but I think it is up to Mr. Nixon to make this quite clear."

It is only doing Perry Nixon justice to say that he did clear up this point, but not by word of mouth.

At Harwich he ingeniously gave us the slip, but in a letter to Lanning, received from Paris a week later, he said that he alone was responsible for the theft, and that neither Mademoiselle Duplaix nor any one else had any hand in it, nor any knowledge of it.

From some remarks Lanning had let fall he concluded that some important development had occurred in the stabilizing of flying machines--a matter his employers were interested in--and he had watched his friend's movements. He guessed that secret experiments had been tried that day when he saw Lanning take the wooden case to his flat, and during the evening he had slipped away from Lady Chilcot's dance, returning when he had deposited the model and the plans in a safe place.

He did not say where this safe place was, and since he had persistently suggested that either France or Germany had pulled the strings of the robbery, he was probably working for neither of these countries.

Shortly afterwards Richard Lanning's engagement to Miss Chilcot was announced, and I imagine he is still working to perfect a stabilizer, for, although the model appears to have done all that was required of it, the actual machine proved defective, I understand.

CHAPTER VIII

THE AFFAIR OF THE CONTESSA'S PEARLS

I think it was when talking about the stolen model that Quarles made the paradoxical statement that facts are not always the best evidence. I argued the point, and remained entirely of an opposite opinion until I had to investigate the case of a pair of pearl earrings, and then I was driven into thinking there was something in Quarles's statement. It was altogether a curious a if air, and showed the professor in a new light which caused Zena and myself some trouble.

The Contessa di Castalani occupied rooms at one of the big West End hotels, a self-contained suite, consisting of a sitting-room, two bedrooms, and vestibule. She had her child with her, a little girl of about three years old, and a French maid named Angelique.

Returning to the hotel one afternoon unexpectedly, she met, but took no particular notice of, two men in the corridor which led to her suite.

Hotel servants she supposed them to be, and, as she entered the little vestibule Angelique came from the contessa's bedroom. There was no reason why she should not go in there; in fact, she carried a reason in her hand. She had been to get a clean frock for the child. The one she had worn on the previous day was too soiled to put on.

That evening the contessa wished to wear a special pair of pearl earrings, but when she went to get the little leather case which contained the pearls, it was missing.

Although her boxes and drawers were not much disarranged, it was quite evident to her that they had been searched, but nothing else had been taken apparently.

It did not occur to her to suspect the maid, partly, no doubt, because she remembered the men in the corridor, and she immediately sent for the manager.