The Master Detective Part 23

We found a corner to ourselves, and the professor, having ordered drinks, showed Winbush the note which Lanning had written to Mademoiselle Duplaix. It was not addressed to her, and was so worded that it might be meant for any one. Winbush read it and looked at Quarles.

"While your master is in Silesia I have certain work to do here, and to do it I must have your complete story," said the professor. "You appreciate the fact that Mr. Laiming looks upon you as a friend and wishes you to tell me all you know."

"I do, sir, only I don't see how my story is going to help him."

"It is going to help us to put our hand on the man who is really guilty."

"It has all been very mysterious," said Winbush, "and I have not been able to understand my master at all. What I have said about hearing a noise in the pa.s.sage and being seized before I could switch on the light in the dining-room is all true, but the stuff which was put into my face and made me unconscious wasn't there before I had time to call out."

"You called out, then?"

"No, I didn't, because the man spoke to me."

"Oh, it was a man--not a woman?"

"It was Mr. Lanning himself," said Winbush.

This was so unexpected that I nearly exclaimed at it, but Quarles just watched the speaker as if he would make certain that he was telling nothing but the truth.

"He spoke quickly and excitedly," Winbush went on. "Said it was necessary that the flat should appear to have been robbed. I should presently be discovered bound. I was to say that I had been attacked in the dark and that I did not know by whom nor by how many. I was not to speak about the matter to him again under any circ.u.mstances, and even if he questioned me alone or before others I was to stick to my story of utter ignorance. I had just said that I understood and heard him say that he would probably question me to prove my faithfulness, when he put the stuff over my mouth and nose, and I knew no more until he found me there later on."

"Has he questioned you since?"

"Not since he first found me lying on the floor. He did then, and I obeyed his instructions just as I did when you talked to me afterwards."

"Did he suggest you should say a woman was present?"

"No, sir."

"That was a little extra tr.i.m.m.i.n.g of your own, eh?"

"No, it was a bit of truth that crept in. I thought a woman was there."

"By the perfume?"

"Yes, sir."

Quarles brought from the depth of a pocket a tissue-paper parcel, from which he took a handkerchief.

"Was that the perfume?"

Winbush smelt it.

"It may have been. It was the perfume that hangs about a woman in evening dress."

"That's Parma violets, Wigan," said the professor, waving the handkerchief towards me. It was one of his own, so had evidently been specially prepared for this test. "I wonder what percentage of women use the scent? It is not much of a clue for us, I am afraid."

He put the handkerchief away, and then from another pocket produced a second handkerchief, also wrapped in tissue paper.

This time it was a fragile affair of lawn and lace.

"Smell that, Mr. Winbush."

"That's it!" the man exclaimed; no hesitation this time.

"You can swear to it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Rather a pleasant scent but peculiar, Wigan. I do not know what it is."

Nor did I, but the handkerchief interested me. Worked in the corner were the letters "Y.D."

"I can get to work now, Mr. Winbush," said Quarles. "Your master tells you to do whatever I advise. Of course, I understand that in keeping these facts to yourself you were acting in your master's interests, but were it generally known that you had suppressed the truth you might get into trouble. Have you any relatives in town?"

"I have a married nephew out Hampstead way."

"Most fortunate. You go straight off and see him, get him to put you up for the night, but whatever you do keep away from Jermyn Street until to-morrow morning. You will spoil my efforts on your master's behalf if you turn up at the flat before then."

Winbush promised to obey these instructions, and Quarles and I left the Blue Lion.

"After hearing that Lanning was coming to see me this afternoon, I telephoned a telegram to Winbush," explained the professor when we were outside. "He thought it came from his master telling him to meet him at the Blue Lion. Lanning will have to do his own packing for once.

Winbush's story is rather a surprising one, eh, Wigan?"

"And most unexpected," I said.

"Well, no, not quite unexpected," he answered in that superior manner which is so exasperating at times. "I got that note from Lanning for the purpose of getting the man to tell me the truth."

"At any rate, you were mistaken in supposing that Mademoiselle's mysterious foreigner would be at the Blue Lion," I returned.

"Not at all. He was there."

"Winbus.h.!.+" I exclaimed.

"No, Christopher Quarles. I called on Mademoiselle Duplaix this morning.

I thought she would communicate directly or indirectly with Lanning; that is why I was expecting a message from him. I was also fortunate enough to appropriate her handkerchief. To-night I become the distinguished foreigner again; you had better be an elderly gentleman with a stoop. We are traveling to Harwich. Don't forget a revolver; it may be useful. We must get to Liverpool Street early; we shall want plenty of time at the station."

He left me without waiting to be questioned. I was annoyed, and was pretty certain that he had overlooked one important fact. Surely Lanning must have realized how dangerous it was to give such a note to Quarles?

Knowing the story Winbush could tell, he would not have been deceived by the statement that the letter was intended for Mademoiselle Duplaix. He was far too clever for that. He and Winbush were no doubt working together, and the man's story was no doubt part of an arranged scheme. It seemed to me that the immediate recognition of the second scent was suspicious. The man was probably prepared for the test.

I thought it likely that Quarles had met his match this time, and I did not expect to see Richard Lanning at the station.

However, he was there with Mr. Nixon.

"Are they both in it?" I asked Quarles as we watched them.

"No, I don't think so," was his doubtful answer.

We were still watching them as they spoke to the guard, when I started and called the professor's attention to a tall, military-looking man who was hurrying along the platform.