Rivals of Sherlock Holmes, The (41 page)

  'I merely want permission to visit your rooms at your home and to talk with your maid. I do not mean to spy on you, far from it; but consider, Mrs Close, if I should be able to get at the bottom of this thing, find out the real cause of your misfortune, perhaps show that you are the victim of a cruel wrong rather than of carelessness, would you not be willing to let me go ahead? I am frank to tell you that I suspect there is more to this affair than you yourself have any idea of.'
  'No, you are mistaken, Mr Kennedy. I know the cause of it. It was my love of beauty. I couldn't resist the temptation to get rid of even a slight defect. If I had left well enough alone I should not be here now. A friend recommended Dr Gregory to my husband, who took me there. My husband wishes me to remain at home, but I tell him I feel more comfortable here in the hospital. I shall never go to that house again – the memory of the torture of sleepless nights in my room there when I felt my good looks going, going' – she shuddered – 'is such that I can never forget it. He says I would be better off there, but no, I cannot go. Still,' she continued wearily, 'there can be no harm in your talking to my maid.'
  Kennedy noted attentively what she was saying. 'I thank you, Mrs Close,' he replied. 'I am sure you will not regret your permission. Would you be so kind as to give me a note to her?'
  She rang, dictated a short note to a nurse, signed it, and languidly dismissed us.
  I don't know that I ever felt as depressed as I did after that interview with one who had entered a living death to ambition, for while Craig had done all the talking I had absorbed nothing but depression. I vowed that if Gregory or anybody else was responsible I would do my share toward bringing on him retribution.
  The Closes lived in a splendid big house in the Murray Hill section. The presentation of the note quickly brought Mrs Close's maid down to us. She had not gone to the hospital because Mrs Close had considered the services of the trained nurses quite sufficient.
  Yes, the maid had noticed how her mistress had been failing, had noticed it long ago, in fact almost at the time when she had begun the X-ray treatment. She had seemed to improve once when she went away for a few days, but that was at the start, and directly after her return she grew worse again, until she was no longer herself.
  'Did Dr Gregory, the X-ray specialist, ever attend Mrs Close at her home, in her room?' asked Craig.
  'Yes, once, twice, he call, but he do no good,' she said with her French accent.
  'Did Mrs Close have other callers?'
  'But, m'sieur, everyone in society has many. What does m'sieur mean?'
  'Frequent callers – a Mr Lawrence, for instance?'
  'Oh, yes, Mr Lawrence frequently.'
  'When Mr Close was at home?'
  'Yes, on business and on business, too, when he was not at home. He is the attorney, m'sieur.'
  'How did Mrs Close receive him?'
  'He is the attorney, m'sieur,' Marie repeated persistently.
  'And he, did he always call on business?'
  'Oh, yes, always on business, but well, madame, she was a very beautiful woman. Perhaps he like beautiful women –
eh bien
? That was before the Doctor Gregory treated madame. After the doctor treated madame M'sieur Lawrence do not call so often. That's all.'
  'Are you thoroughly devoted to Mrs Close? Would you do a favour for her?' asked Craig point-blank.
  'Sir, I would give my life, almost, for madame. She was always so good to me.'
  'I don't ask you to give your life for her, Marie,' said Craig, 'but you can do her a great service, a very great service.'
  'I will do it.'
  'To-night,' said Craig, 'I want you to sleep in Mrs Close's room. You can do so, for I know that Mr Close is living at the St. Francis Club until his wife returns from the sanitarium. To-morrow morning come to my laboratory' – Craig handed her his card – 'and I will tell you what to do next. By the way, don't say anything to anyone in the house about it, and keep a sharp watch on the actions of any of the servants who may go into Mrs Close's room.'
  'Well,' said Craig, 'there is nothing more to be done immediately.' We had once more regained the street and were walking up-town. We walked in silence for several blocks.
  'Yes,' mused Craig, 'there is something you can do, after all, Walter. I would like you to look up Gregory and Close and Lawrence. I already know something about them. But you can find out a good deal with your newspaper connections. I would like to have every bit of scandal that has ever been connected with them, or with Mrs Close, or,' he added significantly, 'with any other woman. It isn't necessary to say that not a breath of it must be published – yet.'
  I found a good deal of gossip, but very little of it, indeed, seemed to me at the time to be of importance. Dropping in at the St. Francis Club, where I had some friends, I casually mentioned the troubles of the Huntington Closes. I was surprised to learn that Close spent little of his time at the Club, none at home, and only dropped into the hospital to make formal inquiries as to his wife's condition. It then occurred to me to drop into the office of
Society Squibs
, whose editor I had long known. The editor told me, with that nameless look of the cynical scandalmonger, that if I wanted to learn anything about Huntington Close I had best watch Mrs Frances Tulkington, a very wealthy Western divorcee about whom the smart set were much excited, particularly those whose wealth made it difficult to stand the pace of society as it was going at present.
  'And before the tragedy,' said the editor with another nameless look, as if he were imparting a most valuable piece of gossip, 'it was the talk of the town, the attention that Close's lawyer was paying to Mrs Close. But to her credit let me say that she never gave us a chance to hint at anything, and – well, you know us; we don't need much to make snappy society news.'
  The editor then waged even more confidential, for if I am anything at all, I am a good listener, and I have found that often by sitting tight and listening I can get more than if I were a too-eager questioner.
  'It really was a shame – the way that man Lawrence played his game,' he went on. 'I understand that it was he who introduced Close to Mrs T. They were both his clients. Lawrence had fought her case in the courts when she sued old Tulkington for divorce, and a handsome settlement he got for her, too. They say his fee ran up into the hundred thousands – contingent, you know. I don't know what his game was' – here he lowered his voice to a whisper – 'but they say Close owes him a good deal of money. You can figure it out for yourself as you like. Now, I've told you all I know. Come in again, Jameson, when you want some more scandal, and remember me to the boys down on the
Star
.'
  The following day the maid visited Kennedy at his laboratory while I was reporting to him on the result of my investigations.
  She looked worn and haggard. She had spent a sleepless night and begged that Kennedy would not ask her to repeat the experiment.
  'I can promise you, Marie,' he said, 'that you will rest better tonight. But you must spend one more night in Mrs Close's room. By the way, can you arrange for me to go through the room this morning when you go back?'
  Marie said she could, and an hour or so later Craig and I quietly slipped into the Close residence under her guidance. He was carrying something that looked like a miniature barrel, and I had another package which he had given me, both carefully wrapped up. The butler eyed us suspiciously, but Marie spoke a few words to him and I think showed him Mrs Close's note. Anyhow he said nothing.
  Within the room that the unfortunate woman had occupied Kennedy took the coverings off the packages. It was nothing but a portable electric vacuum cleaner, which he quickly attached and set running. Up and down the floor, around and under the bed he pushed the cleaner. He used the various attachments to clean the curtains, the walls, and even the furniture. Particularly did he pay attention to the base board on the wall back of the bed. Then he carefully removed the dust from the cleaner and sealed it up in a leaden box.
  He was about to detach and pack up the cleaner when another idea seemed to occur to him. 'Might as well make a thorough job of it, Walter,' he said, adjusting the apparatus again. 'I've cleaned everything but the mattress and the brass bars behind the mattress on the bed. Now I'll tackle them. I think we ought to go into the suction-cleaning business – more money in it than in being a detective, I'll bet.'
  The cleaner was run over and under the mattress and along every crack and cranny of the brass bed. This done and this dust also carefully stowed away, we departed, very much to the mystification of Marie and, I could not help feeling, of other eyes that peered in through keyholes or cracks in doors.
  'At any rate,' said Kennedy exultingly, 'I think we have stolen a march on them. I don't believe they were prepared for this, not at least at this stage in the game. Don't ask me any questions, Walter. Then you will have no secrets to keep if anyone should try to pry them loose. Only remember that this man Lawrence is a shrewd character.'
  The next day Marie came, looking even more careworn than before.
  'What's the matter, mademoiselle?' asked Craig. 'Didn't you pass a better night?'
  'Oh,
mon Dieu,
I rest well, yes. But this morning, while I am at breakfast, Mr Close send for me. He say that I am discharged. Some servant tell of your visit and he verry angr-ry. And now what is to become of me – will madame his wife give a recommendation now?'
  'Walter, we have been discovered,' exclaimed Craig with considerable vexation. Then he remembered the poor girl who had been an involuntary sacrifice to our investigation. Turning to her he said: 'Marie, I know several very good families, and I am sure you will not suffer for what you have done by being faithful to your mistress. Only be patient a few days. Go live with some of your folks. I will see that you are placed again.'
  The girl was profuse in her thanks as she dried her tears and departed.
  'I hadn't anticipated having my hand forced so soon,' said Craig after she had gone, leaving her address. 'However, we are on the right track. What was it that you were going to tell me when Marie came in?'
  'Something that may be very important, Craig,' I said, 'though I don't understand it myself. Pressure is being brought to bear on the
Star
to keep this thing out of the papers, or at least to minimise it.'
  'I'm not surprised,' commented Craig. 'What do you mean by pressure being brought?'
  'Why, Close's lawyer, Lawrence, called up the editor this morning – I don't suppose that you know, but he has some connection with the interests which control the
Star
– and said that the activity of one of the reporters from the
Star
, Jameson by name, was very distasteful to Mr Close and that this reporter was employing a man named Kennedy to assist him.
  'I don't understand it, Craig,' I confessed, 'but here one day they give the news to the papers, and two days later they almost threaten us with suit if we don't stop publishing it.'
  'It is perplexing,' said Craig, with the air of one who was not a bit perplexed, but rather enlightened.
  He pulled down the district telegraph messenger lever three times, and we sat in silence for a while.
  'However,' he resumed, 'I shall be ready for them to-night.'
  I said nothing. Several minutes elapsed. Then the messenger rapped on the door.
  'I want these two notes delivered right away,' said Craig to the boy; 'here's a quarter for you. Now mind you don't get interested in a detective story and forget the notes. If you are back here quickly with the receipts I'll give you another quarter. Now scurry along.'
  Then, after the boy had gone, he said casually to me: 'Two notes to Close and Gregory, asking them to be present with their attorneys to-night. Close will bring Lawrence, and Gregory will bring a young lawyer named Asche, a very clever fellow. The notes are so worded that they can hardly refuse the invitation.'
  Meanwhile I carried out an assignment for the
Star
, and telephoned my story in so as to be sure of being with Craig at the crucial moment. For I was thoroughly curious about his next move in the game. I found him still in his laboratory attaching two coils of thin wire to the connections on the outside of a queer-looking little black box.
  'What's that?' I asked, eyeing the sinister looking little box suspiciously. 'An infernal machine? You're not going to blow the culprit into eternity, I hope.'
  'Never mind what it is, Walter. You'll find that out in due time. It may or it may not be an infernal machine of a different sort than any you have probably ever heard of. The less you know now the less likely you are to give anything away by a look or an act. Come now, make yourself useful as well as ornamental. Take these wires and lay them in the cracks of the floor, and be careful not to let them show. A little dust over them will conceal them beautifully.'
  Craig now placed the black box back of one of the chairs well down toward the floor, where it could hardly have been perceived unless one were suspecting something of the sort. While he was doing so I ran the wires across the floor, and around the edge of the room to the door.
  'There,' he said, taking the wires from me. 'Now I'll complete the job by carrying them into the next room. And while I'm doing it, go over the wires again and make sure they are absolutely concealed.'
  That night six men gathered in Kennedy's laboratory. In my utter ignorance of what was about to happen I was perfectly calm, and so were all the rest, except Gregory. He was easily the most nervous of us all, though his lawyer Asche tried repeatedly to reassure him.

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