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Zillah regained her wits with an effort, and became as business-like as usual.
"Don't, please, think I'm asking idle and purposeless questions," she said. "Have you been long in London?"
"A few days only," answered the stranger, readily enough.
"Have you read of what's already called the Praed Street Murder in the papers?" continued Zillah.
"Yes--I read that," the stranger said, his face growing serious. "The affair of the old man--the p.a.w.nbroker with the odd name. Yes!"
"I'm the old man's granddaughter," said Zillah, brusquely. "Now, I'll tell you why I was upset by seeing your platinum stud. A solitaire stud, made of platinum, and ornamented with exactly the same device as yours, was found in our parlour after my grandfather's death--and another, evidently the fellow to it, was found in an eating-house, close by. Now, do you understand why I wished to speak to you?"
While Zillah spoke, the American's face had been growing graver and graver, and when she made an end, he glanced at Lauriston and shook his head.
"Say!" he said. "That's a very serious matter! You're sure the device was the same, and the material platinum?"
"I've been reared in the jewellery trade," replied Zillah. "The things I'm talking of are of platinum--and the device is precisely the same as that on your stud."
"Well!--that's mighty queer!" remarked the American. "I can't tell you why it's queer, all in a minute, but I do a.s.sure you it's just about the queerest thing I ever heard of in my life--and I've known a lot of queerness. Look here!--I'm stopping at this hotel--will you come in with me, and we'll just get a quiet corner and talk some? Come right in, then."
He led the way into the hotel, through the hall, and down a corridor from which several reception rooms opened. Looking into one, a small smoking lounge, and finding it empty, he ushered them aside. But on the threshold Zillah paused. Her business instincts were by this time fully aroused. She felt certain that whoever this stranger might he, he had nothing to do with the affair in Praed Street, and yet might be able to throw extraordinary light on it, and she wanted to take a great step towards clearing it up. She turned to the American.
"Look here!" she said. "I've told you what I'm after, and who I am.
This gentleman is Mr. Andrew Lauriston. Did you read his name in the paper's account of that inquest?"
The American glanced at Lauriston with some curiosity.
"Sure!" he answered. "The man that found the old gentleman dead."
"Just so," said Zillah. "There are two friends of ours making enquiries on Mr. Lauriston's behalf at this moment. One of them's my cousin, Mr.
Rubinstein; the other's Mr. Purdie, an old friend of Mr. Lauriston's.
I've an idea where'll they'll be, just now--do you mind if I telephone them to come here, at once, so that they can hear what you have to tell us?"
"Not in the least!" a.s.sented the American heartily. "I'll be glad to help in any way I can--I'm interested. Here!--there's a telephone box right there--you go in now, and call those fellows up and tell 'em to come right along, quick!"
He and Lauriston waited while Zillah went into the telephone box: she felt sure that Melky and Purdie would have returned to Praed Street by that time, and she rang up Mrs. Goldmark at the p.a.w.nshop to enquire.
Within a minute or two she had rejoined Lauriston and the American--during her absence the stranger had been speaking to a waiter, and he now led his two guests to a private sitting-room.
"We'll be more private in this apartment," he observed. "No fear of interruption or being overheard. I've told the waiter man there's two gentlemen coming along, and they're to be brought in here as soon as they land. Will they be long?"
"They'll be here within twenty minutes," answered Zillah. "It's very kind of you to take so much trouble!"
The American drew an easy chair to the fire, and pointed Zillah to it.
"Well," he remarked, "I guess that in a fix of this sort, you can't take too much trouble! I'm interested in this case--and a good deal more than interested now that you tell me about these platinum studs. I reckon I can throw some light on that, anyway! But we'll keep it till your friends come. And I haven't introduced myself--my name's Stuyvesant Guyler. I'm a New York man--but I've knocked around some--pretty considerable, in fact. Say!--have you got any idea that this mystery of yours is at all connected with South Africa?
And--incidentally--with diamonds?"
Zillah started and glanced at Lauriston.
"What makes you think of South Africa--and of diamonds?" she asked.
"Oh, well--but that comes into my tale," answered Guyler. "You'll see in due course. But--had it?"
"I hadn't thought of diamonds, but I certainly had of South Africa,"
admitted Zillah.
"Seems to be working in both directions," said Guyler, meditatively.
"But you'll see that when I tell you what I know."
Purdie and Melky Rubinstein entered the room within the twenty minutes which Zillah had predicted--full of wonder to find her and Lauriston in company with a total stranger. But Zillah explained matters in a few words, and forbade any questioning until Mr. Stuyvesant Guyler had told his story.
"And before I get on to that," said Guyler, who had been quietly scrutinizing his two new visitors while Zillah explained the situation, "I'd just like to see that platinum solitaire that Mr. Rubinstein picked up--if he's got it about him?"
Melky thrust a hand into a pocket.
"It ain't never been off me, mister, since I found it!" he said, producing a little packet wrapped in tissue paper. "There you are!"
Guyler took the stud which Melky handed to him and laid it on the table around which they were all sitting. After glancing at it for a moment, he withdrew the studs from his own wrist-bands and laid them by its side.
"Yes, that's sure one of the lot!" he observed musingly. "I guess there's no possible doubt at all on that point. Well!--this is indeed mighty queer! Now, I'll tell you straight out. These studs--all of 'em--are parts of six sets of similar things, all made of that very expensive metal, platinum, in precisely the same fashion, and ornamented with the same specially invented device, and given to six men who had been of a.s.sistance to him in a big deal, as a little mark of his appreciation, by a man that some few years ago made a fortune in South Africa. That's so!"
Zillah turned on the American with a sharp look of enquiry.
"Who was he?" she demanded. "Tell us his name!"
"His name," replied Guyler, "was Spencer Levendale--dealer in diamonds."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
PURDIE STANDS FIRM
The effect produced by this announcement was evidently exactly that which the American expected, and he smiled, a little grimly, as he looked from one face to another. As for his hearers, they first looked at each other and then at him, and Guyler laughed and went on.
"That makes you jump!" he said. "Well, now, at the end of that inquest business in the papers the other day I noticed Spencer Levendale's name mentioned in connection with some old book that was left, or found in Mr. Daniel Multenius's back-parlour. Of course, I concluded that he was the same Spencer Levendale I'd known out there in South Africa, five years ago. And to tell you the truth, I've been watching your papers, morning and evening, since, to see if there was any more news of him.
But so far I haven't seen any."
Purdie and Melky exchanged glances, and in response to an obvious hint from Melky, Purdie spoke.
"We can give you some news, then," he said. "It'll be common property tomorrow morning. Levendale has mysteriously disappeared from his house, and from his usual haunts!--and n.o.body knows where he is. And it's considered that this disappearance has something to do with the Praed Street affair."
"Sure!" a.s.sented Guyler. "That's just about a dead certainty. And in the Praed Street affair, these platinum stud things are going to play a good part, and when you and your police have got to the bottom of it, you'll sure find that something else has a big part, too!"
"What?" asked Purdie.
"Why, diamonds!" answered the American, with a quiet smile. "Just diamonds! Diamonds'll be at the bottom of the bag--sure!"
There was a moment of surprised silence, and then Melky turned eagerly to the American.