Chapter 3. Cullen Gives Advice

________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER III. CULLEN GIVES ADVICE

At ten o'clock the following morning my telephone bell rang and a visitor was announced. I did not catch the name given me, and it was only when I opened the door to him in response to his ring that I recognized Mr. Cullen. In morning clothes, which consisted in his case of a blue serge suit that needed brushing and a bowler hat of extinct shape, he seemed to me, if possible, a little more objectionable than I had found him the previous night. He presented himself, however, in a wholly non-aggressive spirit.

"Mr. Walmsley," he said, as he took the chair to which I motioned him, "I have called to see you very largely in your own interests."

I murmured something to the effect that I was extremely obliged.

"I have made inquiries concerning you," he went on, "and I find that you not only have a blameless record but that you are possessed of considerable means, and that you belong to a highly esteemed county family."

"And what of it, Mr. Cullen?" I asked.

"This," he answered, "that I feel it my duty to warn you against the companions with whom you spent a portion of last evening."

"You mean Mr. and Miss Parker?"

"I mean Mr. and Miss Parker."

"Are you making any definite charges against this young lady and gentleman?" I inquired after a moment's pause.

"Very definite charges indeed!" he replied. "I warn you, Mr. Walmsley, that this man and his daughter are in bad repute with us, and to be seen associated with them is to bring yourself under police surveillance. We had a special warning when they sailed from New York, and since their arrival in London they have already been concerned in two or three very shady transactions."

"If they break the law," I inquired, "why do you not arrest them?"

"Because I have had bad luck--rotten bad luck!" Mr. Cullen declared firmly. "I am perfectly convinced that this Mr. Parker, as he calls himself, has been financing one of the greatest artists in banknote counterfeits ever known to the police. I am perfectly convinced that Mr. Parker left this young man in Adam Street last night, with a packet of notes upon his person for which he had just paid two hundred pounds, and if I could have arrested him then the game would have been up. He dodged me by going into the Cecil, leaving by the back way and coming through the Savoy; but I picked him up again within two minutes of his reaching Stephano's.

"Obviously with your collusion--you'll pardon me, sir, but there the facts are--he was seated at your table as though in the middle of a dinner. I had him searched, but there wasn't a thing on him. I am not going to ask you what he did with the notes he had--whether he palmed them off on you or not--but I will simply say that between the time of his entering Stephano's and the time of my searching him he got rid of a thousand pounds' worth of counterfeit notes."

"Sounds very clever of him!" I remarked. "How do you know that he didn't get rid of them to some one in either the Cecil or the Savoy?"

"Because," Mr. Cullen explained, "he was followed by one of my men through both places and not lost sight of for a single second. You see, I made sure he would come to Stephano's and I was on the other side of the Strand, but I had left a man in case he went the other way. I tell you he was under the strictest surveillance the whole time, except during the few minutes--I might almost say seconds--when he disappeared in the restaurant."

"Anything else against him?" I asked.

"I am not inclined," Mr. Cullen continued slowly, "to mention specifically the various cases that have come under my notice and in which I believe him to be concerned; but, among other things, he is a frequenter of half the gambling houses in London and a tout for their owners. Trouble follows wherever he goes. But, Mr. Walmsley, mark my words! I am not a man given to idle speech and I assure you that within a few weeks--perhaps within a few days--I shall have him; aye, and the young lady, too! You don't want to be mixed up in this sort of business, sir. I am here to give you the advice to sheer off! They'll only rob you and bring you, too, under suspicion."

I lit a cigarette and stood on the hearthrug with my hands behind me.

"Mr. Cullen," I said, "it is, of course, very kind of you to come to me in this disinterested manner. You don't seem to have anything to gain by it, so I will accept your attitude as being a bona fide one. I will, if I may, be equally frank with you. I met both Mr. Parker and his daughter last night for the first time----"

"Then that dinner was a plant!" Mr. Cullen interrupted swiftly. "I knew it!"

I ignored the interruption.

"For the first time," I repeated; "and I find them both most delightful companions. As to how far our acquaintance may progress, that is entirely a matter for chance to decide. You have doubtless come here with very good motives, but I see no reason why I should accept your statements concerning Mr. Parker and his daughter. You understand? My suggestion is that you are mistaken. Until I have proved them to be other than they represent themselves to be," I added with infinite subtlety, "I shall continue to derive pleasure from their society."

Mr. Cullen rose at once to his feet.

"My warning has been given, sir," he said. "It only remains for me now to wish you good morning, and to assure you most regretfully that your name will be added to those whom Scotland Yard thinks it well to watch and that your movements from place to place will be noted."

"I trust that Scotland Yard will benefit," I replied politely, and showed him out.

At half past ten I rang up 3771A Gerrard. The telephone was answered almost immediately by a man, apparently a servant. I inquired for Mr. Parker and in a moment or two I heard his voice at the telephone.

"This is Joseph H. Parker speaking. Who are you?"

"I am Paul Walmsley. You told me I might ring up between ten and eleven."

"Sure!" was the prompt reply. "My dear fellow, I am delighted to hear from you. None the worse for our little adventure last night, I hope?"

"Not in the least," I assured him. "On the contrary I am looking forward to another."

"You shall have one," was the delighted answer.

"What about--What is it, Eve? Excuse me for one moment, Mr. Walmsley."

Mr. Parker was apparently dragged away from the telephone. I waited impatiently. He returned in a moment or two. His voice sounded as though he were a little irritated.

"Sorry," he said. "I was going to make a little suggestion to you for this evening, but my daughter here doesn't fall in with it. They will have their own way--these girls."

"It's very disappointing!" I said. "Don't you think you could prevail on her?"

"Look here!" Mr. Parker continued. "I'll tell you what: Let's meet accidentally at dinner tonight. I'll talk Eve round before then. You drop into Stephano's for dinner at about seven-thirty. Then, when you see us there, you can come over and join us."

"Thank you very much," I replied heartily. "By the by, I suppose you couldn't tell me your address? I should like to send Miss Parker some flowers."

Mr. Parker obviously hesitated.

"Better not," he decided regretfully--"not this morning, at any rate. Eve is a bit peculiar; and if you come into our little scheme and it goes wrong the less you know of us the better. See you later!"

I did see Mr. Parker later, but not quite so late as the time appointed. He was in the American bar at the Milan when I looked in there just before luncheon and was talking to two of the most ferocious and objectionable- looking ruffians I had ever seen in my life. He glanced at me blandly, but without any sign of recognition, save that I fancied I caught the slightest twitch of his left eyebrow. I took the hint and did not join him. My reward came presently; for, after leaving the room with his two acquaintances, Mr. Parker strolled back again, and coming straight over to me clapped me on the shoulder.

"This is capital!" he exclaimed. "We meet tonight?"

"Without a doubt," I assured him.

He drew me a little on one side.

"Say," he inquired, scratching the side of his chin, "have you any objection to a bit of a scrap?"

"Not the slightest," I replied, "so long as Miss Parker is out of it!"

"Good boy!" Mr. Parker pronounced. "Yes; we'll keep her out of it, all right. I shall count on you then. Just keep yourself in reserve. We'll talk it over at dinner time. You just stroll in casually and I'll call you over. By the by," he added, lowering his voice, "did you see those two fellows I was with?"

"I saw them!" I confessed. "They were just a trifle noticeable."

Mr. Parker came a little nearer to me. He accentuated his words by beating on the palm of his left hand with two fingers of his right.

"Absolutely, my dear Walmsley, two of the most unmitigated and desperate ruffians on either continent!"

"They looked it," I agreed heartily.

"Their record," Mr. Parker continued--"their police record, I mean--is one of the most wonderful things ever put on paper. The marvelous thing is how, even for a few minutes, they should be out of prison! Did you notice the one with the cast in his eye?"

"I did," I admitted.

"They used to call him Angel Jake," Mr. Parker proceeded confidentially. "He was sentenced to death once for shooting a policeman, but there was some technicality--he was tried in the wrong court--so he got off."

"A very interesting acquaintance," I remarked with utterly wasted sarcasm.

"They're fairly up to their necks in trouble, both of them, on the other side," Mr. Parker declared with relish; "and they're kind o' looking for it here."

I took him by the arm and led him out of the bar into a retired corner of the smoking room. We sat upon a divan and had the room almost to ourselves.

"How is Miss Parker this morning?" I asked.

"Fine!" her father replied. "I told her about the flowers and it made her quite homesick. Girls miss that sort of thing, you know; and over here, living under a sort of cloud, as it were, one can't risk making many friends."

It was a very good opening for me and I took advantage of it.

"Why do you choose to live under a cloud, Mr. Parker?" I asked.

"My dear fellow," he replied earnestly, "I don't altogether choose. I have been frank with you. It's my life."

"If it were only a question of money----" I began tentatively.

"A question of money!" Mr. Parker interrupted. "Isn't everything a question of money? Say, what do you mean exactly?"

"I mean that I admire your daughter, sir--I admire her immensely," I told him. "If she'd have me I'd marry her to-morrow, I am not what you would call a wealthy man, but I have enough money for all reasonable purposes."

Mr. Parker was clearly staggered. He stroked his waistcoat for a moment in an absent sort of way.

"This takes my breath away!" he exclaimed. "Let us understand exactly what it means."

"It means," I told him bluntly, "that I'll make a settlement upon your daughter and give you enough to live on."

He looked first at me and then at the carpet. He began to whistle softly.

"And they always told me," he murmured under his breath, "that you Britishers were so cautious! Why, you know nothing about us at all except what I've told you, and goodness knows that isn't much of a recommendation! Besides, I may not have told you half!"

"I am willing to take my risk," I declared. "I simply don't care. Once in a lifetime a man has that feeling for a woman. If he is wise he goes nap on it. I have never had it before and I am not going to let go. I feel that if I do I may regret it all my life. I don't want any other woman in this world except your daughter, and what I possess in life worth having I am willing to give to make sure of her."

Mr. Parker sat for several moments in profound silence. I could not make out what his mood was, He seemed neither unduly depressed nor elated. He was obviously puzzled, however--puzzled to know precisely what to do or what to say. He sat in the middle of the divan with one thumb in his waistcoat pocket and the other hand flat upon the table. His round face was innocent of smile or frown. Yet I knew he was taking what I had said seriously, though for some reason or other it did not seem to give him unqualified pleasure.

"Well, well!" he said at last. "You've spoken up like a man, anyway--and like a man who knows what he wants. I can't tell how to answer you. I have never lived on any one yet. Sponging's never been in my line. I have enjoyed living on my wits. And Eve--she's a little that way, too. Makes me kind of sorry I've let her go about with me so much. It's a wonderful cloak of respectability you'd throw over us; but I'm wondering whether it's large enough!"

"As my wife--" I began.

"Oh, yes! you'd gather her in all right to start with," he interrupted; "but there are other things," he added, turning a little toward me and looking me in the face. "Suppose she didn't turn out just as you thought! She's a wild, high-spirited sort of creature--is Eve. She loves the music and the rattle of life. I can't fancy her in one of those out-of-the-way, God-forsaken little mudholes you call an English village, sitting in an early-Victorian drawing-room all the afternoon, waiting for the vicar's wife to come to tea, and taking a walk before dinner for entertainment, with an umbrella and mackintosh."

"You've been reading Jane Austen," I told him.

"Never heard of her," he replied promptly. "I once--but never mind. Just keep this to yourself for a bit, my boy. If we come to any arrangement there are one or two things we've got on that we might have to drop. We'll think this over. So long until this evening."

He bustled away then, evidently anxious to escape any further conversation. I went about my business, which consisted of a visit to my lawyer's and a couple of rubbers of bridge at my club before dinner.

At half past seven precisely I strolled into Stephano's. I had scarcely taken my table before Mr. Parker and Eve entered. Contrary to his usual custom, Mr. Parker was wearing a dress coat, white waistcoat and white tie; and Eve looked exquisite in a low-necked gown of white silk. Mr. Parker, according to his promise, at once beckoned me over.

"My dear boy," he said, "I insist upon it that you sit down and dine with us. Last night I dined with you. To be literal, I ate off your plate. Tonight I return the compliment."

I had no idea of refusing, but I was watching Eve with some anxiety. Her attitude seemed a little negative. However, she welcomed me pleasantly.

"Well," she asked, "is your conscience beginning to prick yet?"

"My conscience," I replied, "is about as imaginary a thing as my early- Victorian drawing-room. I can assure you I have the most profound admiration for your father. I think he is one of the cleverest men I ever met."

She seemed a little taken aback. My tone, I felt quite sure, was convincing.

"Of course," she remarked, "it is possible I have formed a wrong idea of Englishmen. I have met only one or two."

"I should say it is highly probable," I agreed. "What scheme of villainy is before us to-night? I claim a share in it at any rate."

She shook her head.

"Not to-night, I am afraid."

Mr. Parker, with the menu in front of him, was busy with the waiter and a _maitre d'hotel_. I dropped my voice a little.

"Why not? Are you going to the theater?"

"To the opera."

"You love music?" I asked.

She leaned a little toward me. Her hair almost brushed my cheek as she whispered:

"We love jewelry!"

I flatter myself that not a muscle of my face moved.

"No place like the opera!" I remarked. "You should do well there with a little luck."

This time I certainly scored. She looked at me fixedly for a moment. Then she laughed softly.

"I want a pearl necklace," she said.

"What about the one you have on?"

She held it out toward me.

"Imitations, unfortunately," she sighed. "They may look very nice, but they don't feel like the real thing."

"Why can't I go to the opera with you?" I suggested.

"Because there are no vacant seats anywhere near ours," she replied. "You see we happen to know whom we are going to sit near."

"Anyhow, I think I shall go," I decided, "I may be able to come and talk to you between the acts at any rate."

Mr. Parker, having finished giving his orders, joined in the conversation, and we dined together quite cheerily. For educated Americans they seemed very ignorant of English life, and I was not surprised to hear that it was their first visit to Europe. They listened with interest to a great deal that I told them. It was only as we were preparing to leave the place that I asked Mr. Parker a definite question.

"Tell me," I whispered, "have you really any plans for to-night?"

He nodded. "Sure! We are in luck just now. There's nothing like backing it."

"Are those fellows I saw you with this morning at the Milan in it? If so I am going to take Miss Parker away. There are limits--"

He patted me on the back.

"That little affair is off for to-night at any rate. A lady we are very anxious to meet is going to the opera. The little girl wants a pearl necklace. Well, we shall see!"

"You've thought over what I said? Have you mentioned it to her?"

"Only kind of hinted at it. It's no good putting it too straight to her. She's got the bit between her teeth and she'll need to be humored."

Eve had gone to fetch her cloak and we were alone outside the door. I looked at him steadfastly--he was so very pink and white, so very cheerful, so utterly optimistic!

"You've never seen the inside of an English prison, have you, Mr. Parker?" I asked.

He stared at me blankly.

"I am not thinking about you or myself," I went on. "She's so dainty and sweet! She looks like a child who has never known an hour of rough usage in her life. They wouldn't leave her much of that, you know."

I had certainly succeeded in making an impression this time. Mr. Parker's smooth forehead was wrinkled; his face was clouded.

"You are right, Mr. Walmsley," he admitted. "I wish--I wish she would listen to reason. We'll have a talk together--the three of us--soon. You've no idea how difficult it is! She doesn't know fear--can't realize danger. Hush! Here she comes. It will only set her against you if she thinks you are trying to influence me behind her back."

Mr. Parker's car was waiting and we drove together to Covent Garden. I left them in the vestibule and went to call on some of my friends. My sister had a box in the second tier and I was fortunate enough to find her there and alone with her husband. Almost directly underneath us in the stalls Mr. Parker and Eve were sitting; and next Mr. Parker was a woman wearing a pearl necklace. I asked my sister her name. She raised her lorgnette and looked over the side of the box.

"Lady Orstline," she told me. "Her husband is a South African millionaire."

"Are those real pearls she is wearing?" I inquired.

"My dear Paul," she laughed, "why not? Her husband is enormously wealthy and they say that her jewels are wonderful. Unlike so many of those people, she really does select very fine stones, independent of size. Those pearls she is wearing now, for instance, are quite small, but their luster is exquisite. What an extraordinary fat man is sitting next her-- and what a pretty girl!"

"Americans," I remarked.

"They look it," she agreed. "Quite the Gibson type of girl, isn't she?"

The curtain went up and we turned our attention to the stage. As a rule I find music soothing; but that night proved an exception--perhaps because my moderately well-ordered life had crumbled into pieces; because I was conscious of a new and overmastering passion--the music appealed to me in an altogether different way. My enjoyment was no longer impersonal--a matter of the brain and the judgment. I felt the excitement of it throbbing in my pulses. The gloomy, half-lit auditorium seemed full of strange suggestions. I felt in real and actual touch with the great things that throbbed beneath. I was no longer an auditor--a looker-on. I had become a participator.

The hours passed as though in a dream. I talked to my sister and her husband, and exchanged the usual gossip with their callers. I even paid a call or two on my own account; but I have no recollection of whom I went to see or what we talked about. I had no chance to visit either Mr. Parker or Eve, for neither of them left their places and they were in the middle of a row; but I took good care that we were close together in the vestibule toward the end. With a little shiver I saw that Lady Orstline was there too--next Mr. Parker. I was a few feet behind them both, with my sister. I found myself watching almost feverishly.

As usual there was a block outside, and the few yards between us and the door seemed interminable. I had none of the optimism of those others. I was filled with vague fears of some impending disaster. Suddenly, with a shiver, I recognized Cullen, scarcely a couple of yards away, also watching, wedged in among the throng. His lips were drawn closely together; his opera hat was well over his forehead; his eyes never left Mr. Parker. He looked to me there like a lean-faced rat preparing for its spring.

I followed the exact direction of his steadfast gaze and I became cold with apprehension. Lady Orstline was just in front of me; by her side was Eve, and immediately behind her Mr. Parker, I tried to lean over, but in the crush it was impossible.

"Some one you want to speak to, Paul?" my sister asked.

"There's a man there--if I can only get at him."

The little crowd in front of us was suddenly thrown into disorder by having to let through two people whose carriage had been called. We seemed to lose ground in the confusion, for a moment or two later I noticed Lady Orstline standing outside the door, and my heart sank as I realized that her neck was bare. Almost at the same instant I saw her hand fly up and heard her voice.

"My necklace!" she called out. "Policeman, don't let any one pass out! My necklace has been stolen--my pearls!"

The confusion that followed was indescribable. The doors were almost barricaded. My sister and her husband and I were allowed through easily enough, as we were known to be subscribers, but almost every one else seemed to be undergoing a sort of cross-examination. My brother-in-law was disposed to be irritable.

"Why can't the silly woman look after her jewels?" he exclaimed. "Another advertisement, I suppose."

"Can we drop you anywhere, Paul?" my sister inquired. "Or would you like to give us some supper?"

I had been staring out of the window. There was not a sign anywhere of Eve or her father; nor had I been able to catch a glimpse of Mr. Cullen.

"I am sorry," I replied; "but I am supping with some friends at Stephano's. Could you set me down there?"

My sister raised her eyebrows as she gave the order. We were already in the Strand.

"Really, Paul," she remonstrated, "at your time of life--you are thirty- four years old, mind--I think you might leave Stephano's to the other generation!"

"Second childhood!" I explained as I descended. "In any case I really have an appointment here. Give you supper any other night with pleasure. Many thanks!"

My first intention had been not to enter the place at all, but to return at once to Covent Garden. Some impulse, however, prompted me to glance round the room first. To my amazement Eve and her father were already seated at their usual table--Eve drawing off her gloves and her father with the wine list in his hand. I made my way toward them. I suppose my expression indicated a certain stupefaction, for directly I got there Eve began to laugh softly up into my face.

"We aren't ghosts!" she declared. "Did you think _you_ were the only person who could leave the opera house in a hurry?"

"I saw you in the vestibule," I ventured. "I never saw you get away."

"No more did our friend Cullen," Mr. Parker remarked, smiling. "I really am beginning to feel sorry for that man. We were within a yard or two of him and he was watching us good and hard. I think he had an idea that Eve had a weakness for pearls."

"Oh, don't!" I exclaimed rather sharply. "Even in joke it isn't exactly wise, is it, with people passing all the time?"

"Joke!" Mr. Parker repeated. "Precious little joke about it, I can assure you. I dare say it looked simple enough to you, but it was really quite a complicated business. Never mind, Eve has her pearls--and that's the great thing."

Then he thrust his hand into his trousers pocket and, without the least attempt at concealment, produced and plumped upon the table in front of him the pearl necklace which only a few minutes before I had seen upon the neck of Lady Orstline.

"Look much better on Eve when they've been re-strung, won't they?" he observed. "Gee whiz! What lovely stones they are!"

"Put it away!" I gasped. "For Heaven's sake, put it away!"

"Why should I?" he asked coolly.

My heart suddenly seemed to stop beating. I felt as though the end of the world had come. With the light of triumph ablaze in his narrow black eyes, Mr. Cullen was standing by our table!

"Good evening, Mr. Parker!" he said in a tone from which he struggled to keep the note of triumph. "Good evening, young lady!"

The hand of Mr. Parker had suddenly covered the pearl necklace. Mr. Cullen was looking steadily toward it.

"I trust," he continued, "that my arrival was not inopportune. I haven't interrupted anything, have I--any little celebration, or anything of that sort?"

"On the contrary, we are always pleased to see you," Mr. Parker declared warmly. "Sit right down, Mr. Cullen! You'll join us, I trust? We were just thinking of ordering a little supper."

Mr. Cullen shook his head. "Perhaps," he advised, "it would be better to postpone that order."

"Postpone it?" Mr. Parker repeated, glancing at the clock. "Why, it's late enough now. Good Heavens, is that the time?"

Mr. Cullen and I both glanced at the clock at the other end of the room. It was twenty minutes to twelve. The detective looked back with a smile.

"You are a past master, Mr. Parker," he said, "in the accomplishment that, I believe, in your country goes by the name of bluff; but there are limits, you know. I shall have to ask you and your daughter and Mr. Walmsley here to accompany me at once to Bow Street. And," he added, suddenly leaning across the table, "move your right hand, please! Don't make a disturbance--for Luigi's sake! If you want trouble you can have it."

Mr. Parker raised his hand at once.

"Trouble?" he echoed. "That's the last thing I'm looking for."

Mr. Cullen smiled grimly.

"Ah! I thank you," he said. "A pearl necklace, I see! You must allow me to take charge of this, please."

Mr. Parker's look of surprise was admirably done.

"That is my daughter's necklace," he explained. "The fastening has become loose."

"Exactly!" Mr. Cullen sneered. "I am now going to ask you all three to come with me without any further delay to Bow Street."

"This man is mad!" Mr. Parker sighed, leaning back in his place--"stark, staring mad! His interference with my meals is becoming unwarrantable."

"If you take my advice you will avoid a scene," the detective said, leaning a little over the table. "Believe me, I am not to be trifled with. If you do not come willingly there are other means. I am simply trying to avoid a disturbance in a public restaurant."

Mr. Parker rose reluctantly to his feet.

"Eve, dear," he said, "I suppose we may as well obey this very autocratic person. The sooner we go the sooner we shall be back to supper. Mr. Walmsley, I owe you my most profound apologies. I had no idea when I asked you to join us that you would become involved in anything disagreeable."

"Don't mind me," I begged him. "I am glad to come. Perhaps we had better get it over as soon as possible."

"We shall be back," Mr. Parker explained to Luigi, who had strolled up to see what was happening, "in twenty minutes. Prepare, if you please, three oyster cocktails, some grilled cutlets, and saute potatoes. Thank you, Luigi. In twenty minutes, mind!"

We passed out toward the entrance. Mr. Cullen was walking with almost professional proximity to his companion. Eve and I were a few steps in the rear.

"Eve," I whispered, drawing her for a moment close to me, "remember that whatever comes of this--whatever happens--there is no word I have ever said to you, or to your father about you, which I do not mean and shall not always mean."

She looked at me a little curiously. From the first her own demeanor had been singularly unmoved. During the last few seconds, however, she had grown paler. She suddenly took my hand and gave it a little squeeze.

"You really are a little more than nice!" she said.

We drove to the police station and Mr. Cullen ushered us at once into a private room, where an inspector was seated at a table.

"Mr. Hennessey, sir," he began, "I have a charge of theft against this man and his daughter. I watched them at the opera house to-night. At the entrance they were both of them hustling Lady Orstline. As you may have heard, she cried out suddenly that her pearl necklace had been stolen. I rushed for these two, but by some means or other they got away. I followed them to Stephano's restaurant and discovered them with the necklace on the table in front of them; The man Parker was showing it to the other two. He attempted to conceal it, but I was just in time."

The inspector nodded.

"Very good, Mr. Cullen," he said. "Where is the necklace?"

The detective produced it proudly and laid it upon the table before him. The inspector dipped his pen in the ink.

"What is your name?" he asked Mr. Parker.

"Joseph H. Parker," was the reply. "I am an American citizen and this is my daughter. Mr. Cullen appears to be a person of observation. It is true we were at the opera. It is perfectly true we were within a few yards of Lady Orstline when she called out that her necklace was stolen. There's nothing remarkable about that, however, as we occupied adjacent stalls. What I want to point out to you is, though, if you'll allow me, that the necklace I had on the table before me at Stephano's when Mr. Cullen suddenly popped round the screen--the necklace you are now looking at, sir--is of imitation pearls, valued at about ten pounds. I bought it in the Burlington Arcade; it belongs to my daughter, and I was simply examining the clasp, which is scarcely safe."

There was a moment's breathless silence. To me Mr. Parker's statement seemed too good to be true; yet he had spoken with the easy confidence of a man who knows what he is about. Standing there, the personification of respectability, a trifle indignant, a trifle contemptuous, his words could not fail to carry with them a certain amount of conviction. The inspector rang a bell by his side.

"What are your daughter's initials?" he asked quickly.

"E.P.--Eve Parker," Mr. Parker replied. "Look at the back of the gold clasp. There you are," he pointed out--"E.P."

Mr. Cullen and the inspector both bent over the necklace. The inspector gave a brief order to a policeman.

"The initials on the clasp are certainly E.P.," the inspector admitted slowly. "I do not pretend to be a judge of jewelry myself. However, I have sent for some one who is."

A man in plain clothes entered the room. The inspector beckoned to him, showed him the necklace and whispered a question. The man examined the pearls for barely five seconds. Then he handed them back.

"Very nice imitation, sir," he pronounced. "There's a place in Bond Street where I should imagine these came from, and another in the Burlington Arcade. Their value is from seven to ten pounds."

The inspector dismissed him. He handed the necklace back to Mr. Parker and rose to his feet.

"I can only express my most profound regret, sir," he said, "on behalf, of the force. Such a mistake is inexcusable. Mr. Cullen will, I am sure, join in offering you every apology."

Mr. Cullen was standing a few yards back. He was biting his lip until it was absolutely colorless. There was a look in his face that was quite indescribable.

"If I have made a mistake this time," he muttered; "if I have been premature--I apologize; but--but--"

Mr. Parker turned to the inspector.

"You know," he said, "I fancy this young man's got what they call on this side a 'down' on me! He's got an idea that I'm a crook--follows me about; doesn't give me a moment's peace, in fact. Say, Mr. Inspector, can't I put this thing right somehow--take him to my banker's--"

"Banker's!" Mr. Cullen ejaculated softly. "The only use you have for a banker is to fleece him!"

"Mr. Cullen!" the inspector exclaimed, frowning.

"I beg your pardon, sir. I am sorry if I forgot myself." He turned abruptly toward the door. "I offer you my apologies, Mr. Parker," he said, looking back; "also the young lady. But--some day the luck may be on my side."

The door slammed behind him. Mr. Parker turned toward the inspector.

"That young man, Mr. Inspector," he said complainingly, "puts altogether too much feeling into his work. I may have been a bit sarcastic with him once or twice; but if it comes to a lifelong vendetta, or anything of that sort, why, he's beginning to look for trouble--that's all! I'm getting sick of the sight of him. If ever I lunch or dine out he's there. If I go to a theater he's about. Whatever harmless amusement I go in for he's there looking on. Just give him a word of caution, Mr. Inspector. I'm a good-tempered man, but this can't go on forever."

The inspector himself escorted us to the door.

"I beg, Mr. Parker," he said, "that you will take no more notice of Mr. Cullen's little fit of temper. As regards your complaint, I promise you that I will talk to him seriously. Allow me to send for a taxicab for you. Oh! I beg your pardon--that is your own car. I only regret that we should have wasted a few minutes of your evening. Good night, gentlemen! Good night, madam!"

We left Bow Street amid many manifestations of courtesy and good will.

"Where shall I tell him to go to, sir?" the policeman asked as he closed the door.

"Back to Stephano's!" Mr. Parker ordered.

We glided down into the Strand. Mr. Parker glanced at his watch.

"We shall just about make those grilled cutlets," he remarked. "Gives you kind of an appetite--this sort of thing! Say, what's the matter with you, Mr. Walmsley?"

"Oh, nothing particular!" I answered. "Only I was just wondering what in the name of all that's miraculous can have become of Lady Orstline's necklace!"

We descended at Stephano's and were ushered to our table, where the oyster cocktails were waiting. Mr. Parker took my arm.

"Perhaps," he murmured, "you may even know that before you go to sleep to-night."

* * * * *

I thought of Mr. Parker's words an hour or so later when I was preparing to undress. I emptied first the things from my trousers pockets. The feeling of something unfamiliar in one of them brought a puzzled exclamation to my lips. I dragged it out and held it in front of me. My heart gave a great leap, the perspiration broke out upon my forehead, My knees shook and I sat down on the bed. Without the slightest doubt in the world it was Lady Orstline's pearl necklace! _

Read next: Chapter 4. The Wooing Of Eve

Read previous: Chapter 2. The Coup In The Gambling Den

Table of content of Amiable Charlatan


GO TO TOP OF SCREEN

Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book