The Motor Pirate Part 19

Stroviloff proved a very decent fellow, rather an exception to the general run, for I don't take to those Russian agents as a rule; and as I was able to give him a few hints and some introductions over here--he was going on to London--he gave me in return letters to some of his colleagues in Vienna and Petersburg, thinking they would probably be of more use to me than application through the usual official channels.

Well, I went on to Vienna. I won't weary you with a history of my fruitless inquiries, it would take far too much time. Anyhow, I did find eventually that a parcel of diamonds had been disposed of there, and, as Stroviloff had predicted, I obtained the information through one of the Russian agents and not through the Viennese police. I will say that I do not see how the latter could have helped me, for the purchaser was the representative of a Petersburg house who happened to be in Vienna for the purpose of attending the sale of the Princess Novikoff's jewels--you probably saw all about it in the papers."

It was a remarkable sale, and the extraordinary prices realized are probably fresh in most people's memories. I told Forrest I had seen accounts of it, and he continued.

"Unfortunately I did not get the information until after the representative in question had returned to Petersburg. There was nothing left for me to do but to follow him there if I wanted to satisfy myself as to whether the stones of which I had heard were really the ones stolen from the mail. It was rather like a wild goose chase, but I went.

It was the day before I started that I saw the man who reminded me so forcibly of your friend Mannering. It was a very fleeting glimpse of a face which looked in at the door of a restaurant where I happened to be dining, and I should not like to swear that it was he whom I saw. At the time, I put my fancy down to one of those casual likenesses which sometimes lead even keen observers to accost total strangers in the streets as acquaintances. The likeness was, however, undeniable, in spite of something strange about his appearance. However, I paid no attention to the incident, and the next morning I was on my way to Petersburg. There I found no difficulty in obtaining full particulars from the dealer. I have no doubt but that he has purchased the stones which were stolen from the Brighton mail. In size, weight, and quality they answered to the description perfectly. I learned from him that the man from whom he had bought the stones had been introduced to him by a well-known Viennese jeweller. The price asked, though not very greatly below market value, was low enough to tempt him to purchase. The man who offered them suggested that payment should be made, not to himself, but to his firm in Amsterdam. The transaction seemed in every way _bona fide_, the explanation as to the low price being that the Amsterdam firm was rather pressed for cash, and so compelled to realize some of its stock, but was unable to do so in Amsterdam for fear of jeopardizing its credit. The man who sold the stones gave the name of Josef Hoffman, and the merchant produced his card which bore the name of Jacob Meyer and Meyer, and an address in the De Jordaan, Amsterdam. He was described to me as a tall, powerful, fresh-coloured, fair-haired German, of pleasant manners and address. The Petersburg merchant's representative had given him a draft on an Amsterdam bank and, on reaching the Russian capital, after examining the stones, his employer had authorized the payment of the draft by telegraph.

"As soon as I obtained these particulars, I started once more for the Dutch city without wasting much time. Needless to say, I was too late to catch my man. The office in the De Jordaan I found to be a room which had been taken for a week or two, and then vacated, by a person whom I easily identified as the fair-haired German. The draft had been exchanged for a draft on the banker's London agents by the same man. I came on to London immediately, but Hoffman, or whatever his name may be, was a week ahead of me. I traced him to the London bank where he had cashed his draft. He did it in the coolest manner imaginable. He left it one day saying that he required gold, and that if they would get the amount ready--it was over 4000--he would call for it the next day. He actually allowed two days to elapse before doing so. Then he came in a cab with a handbag and took away the gold. That at present is as far as I have got. I only learned the last of these particulars this afternoon, and of course I went at once to the Yard to make my report and to arrange for the circulation of the description of the fair-haired German throughout the country. Then I came on to you."

Forrest finished his drink and stood up. "Now you know as much about the case as I do," he remarked, "and I fancy it is about time for us to pay our proposed visit to our friend Mannering."

"I don't see how you can connect him in any way with Hoffman," I said, as I rose from my seat.

Forrest smiled. "I omitted to tell you one thing," he observed. "I could not see the hair of the man in Vienna whose face seemed familiar to me.

But one thing I did remark. The man with Mannering's face wore a fair moustache."

"But Mannering's is dark," I argued. "It was dark when he went away and dark when he returned."

Forrest held up his hand mockingly. "In these days of scientific progress nothing is easier than for the intelligent leopard to change his spots. Ask the brunette when fashion decrees that fair hair is to be worn, and ask again of the blonde how she manages when the exigencies demand raven tresses."

That settled me. "There's only one thing more," I said. "When did you hear that the Motor Pirate was at work again?"

"At St. Albans. I called at the police office on my way here. He was seen about ten o'clock this side of Peterborough and going north."

"It will be rather a sell if Mannering is at home," I remarked.

"He will not be at home," replied Forrest with conviction.

CHAPTER XVI

I COMMIT A BURGLARY

THE night was moonless, but there was that soft diffused light in the air invariable in June, except on the cloudiest of evenings. There was just enough of it to enable us to see our way as we strolled towards Mannering's house. When we reached it everything appeared still. All the windows were dark. I felt my heart beginning to beat faster than ordinarily as Forrest lifted the latch of the gate opening on to the strip of garden, which lay between the road and the house. We walked along the turf edging of the path in order that our feet might not crunch upon the gravel. Forrest was first. He went straight to the front door and tried it. It was fast.

"We will try one of those French windows," he whispered after returning to my side.

The house was a two-story cottage with a verandah opening on the south side facing a lawn. On to this verandah windows opened from both the dining and sitting-rooms, the servants' quarters being on the other side of the house.

We went round the angle of the building and tried the first window. It was fastened. With cat-like tread Forrest glided on to the second. It was one of the two giving entrance to the sitting-room. A sibilant sound from the detective's lips took me to his side. Without hesitating a second, he threw back the cas.e.m.e.nt and stepped into the darkness.

"Come," he muttered, and I followed.

Heavy curtains veiled the windows and past these the darkness was thick enough to be felt. Of a sudden there was a crack which made me start. It was only Forrest striking a match. With imperturbable confidence, he stepped towards a table and lit the lamp which stood thereon. I felt exceedingly uncomfortable, but Forrest obviously knew no such qualms, for he at once proceeded to examine every object in the room. So far as I could see, there was nothing at all unusual about the place. The room was in exactly the same condition as I had observed it hundreds of times before when I had dropped in for a smoke and a chat. On the table, beside the lamp, was a tantalus and a gla.s.s, and a half empty syphon.

The gla.s.s had been used and the ash on the floor, beside an armchair, showed that a cigar had accompanied the drink. A pair of slippers lay on the hearth rug as if they had been carelessly kicked off. Forrest pointed to them.

"Mannering is not at home," he said. "If he had gone to bed, these would not be here."

"I hope he will not return while we are about," I muttered.

"It would be a little awkward for him," said Forrest, calmly. "I should be compelled to arrest him in self-defence, and I am not prepared to do so at present."

He did not, however, hurry his movements in any way as he proceeded to deliberately search the room. Only once did he pause, and that was when he discovered a continental time-table of recent date. He brought the book to the light and turned over the pages carefully. A gleam of exultation crossed his face, as he pointed out to me a trace of tobacco ash between the pages which gave details of the train service between Vienna and Amsterdam.

"We are on the right track," he observed.

But that one slight piece of evidence was all that the most careful examination of the room revealed, although there was not a drawer nor a shelf which he did not overhaul.

"We must try his bedroom," he remarked, when he had finished with the sitting-room.

"What about the servants?" I asked.

"If they are not asleep, they will merely imagine that it is their master going to bed," he replied, as taking a candlestick, which stood on an occasional table near the door, he pa.s.sed out of the room. I followed him upstairs, with my heart in my mouth, and pointed out to him the door of the room which Mannering occupied. As Forrest turned the handle and entered, I was quite prepared to make a bolt for it. I should not have been a bit surprised to have discovered our suspect sleeping quietly within. But Forrest turned and beckoned me to enter. The room was empty, and this time I a.s.sisted the detective in his search.

Between us we subjected the bedroom and the adjoining dressing-room to the closest scrutiny, but without result. We could not, unfortunately, make an exhaustive examination, for there were one or two ancient presses which were locked, and the Chubb safe let into the wall by the bed head was likewise fastened.

The detective shrugged his shoulders when we had done.

"As we haven't a burglar's outfit, we shall have to wait until we have a search warrant," he muttered.

With a disappointed air he led the way out of the room. On the landing he paused. His keen gaze had rested for a moment on a travelling bag which stood under a table. There were the remains of a number of labels upon it and he scanned them carefully. There was no sufficient of any one of them left for identification.

"He's a clever devil," he whispered.

Then he opened the bag and again his countenance lightened. Inside was an empty bottle bearing the label of a London chemist, with the additional superscription--"Peroxide of Hydrogen."

"The fair hair is accounted for," commented Forrest. "And as for the dye which would restore his locks to their natural colour, I presume he has it under lock and key."

He slipped the bottle into his pocket and returned downstairs, I following at his heels.

"There's not enough at present against him to warrant his arrest," he said, when we were again in the sitting-room.

"Then why not have a look round his workshops," I suggested.

"His what?" queried Forrest, eagerly.

"Haven't I ever mentioned them to you? Haven't you ever heard that Mannering spends all his spare time in experimental motor construction?"

I asked in surprise.

"I think I have heard it mentioned, but until this moment I have always thought it was chaff," he replied.

"Good heavens!" I e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed.

"I should have been inside that shop a couple of months ago," he continued, "if I had thought---- Whereabouts is the shop?"

"Just at the back of the house and ab.u.t.ting on the side of the road," I explained. "The old coach-house and stables." Then as the thought occurred to me, I continued, "Why I heard him tell you of his work himself."