The Greatest Murder Mysteries - Dorothy Fielding Collection. Dorothy Fielding

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СКАЧАТЬ eyes on the girl—"I canna yet believe what you've told me. To-night you must let me hear anything that you remember from my Rob's letters. The letters that I never received."

      Mrs. Erskine covered her face with her hands, and only made a gesture of farewell as Christine passed her.

      "Don't fail me!" she breathed, and the girl laid a tender hand for a second on the bowed shoulder.

      She herself spent the interval as in a dream. What did it mean? What could it mean? Was there really someone in the house with Mrs. Erskine who had substituted those brutal begging letters; but how had they been able to profit by the money? Surely there could not have been an accomplice at the other end as well? Someone who could take Mrs. Erskine's letters with their money contents and change them again for the cold, formal epistles which alone had reached Rob? Yet he had been allowed to receive the thousand pounds! Christine felt her head in a whirl, and she tried to think of something else as she walked by the sea. There was something, too, in Mrs. Erskine's manner which suggested that she knew more than she would admit. She was afraid of something, or someone. What or who? Christine was thankful that the mother could turn to an expert who could throw daylight on what seemed so dark, and to whom the other would at last speak out.

      It was not quite seven when she returned to the villa.

      * * * * *

      IT was on the afternoon of the same day that Pointer set out for Nice. He 'phoned to Christine from Marseilles, where the train had a wait. The puzzle had yielded to the key. He knew now the truth about Robert Erskine's murder, but he wanted her help with regard to his letters to his mother.

      The Chief Inspector was told that mademoiselle was out, but would be back in the afternoon. A 'phone to the Negresco informed him that Crane was away too. He wondered if he had struck the weekly meeting day of the young couple, and left a message for Christine to expect a 'phone from Nice at the hour when his train arrived. A few words over the instrument would tell him all that he wanted to know. To "Colonel Hunter" he wired instructions to meet Mr. Deane at the station.

      Watts met him, but it seemed that Miss West had not yet returned to her pension. Not only that, but she had 'phoned about an hour ago to say that she was spending the night in Nice with friends, and would possibly be away a day or two. "Yes, mademoiselle had sent the 'phone herself."

      "The devil!" murmured Pointer thoughtfully; "that can only mean she's at the villa! The very devil! Where's Carter?" he asked aloud of Watts, who as yet had heard nothing concerning the other's journey.

      "He is to dine with the Anstruthers tonight. When I left he was playing tennis with one of the Chapman boys."

      "Humph!" grunted Pointer, "we'll try to get him." Carter's voice answered him at once.

      "Hello! That you, Deane? At last! Anything turned up? What? Where's Miss West? In Cannes. She was going back by the three-fifteen. Am I sure? No, I can't be sure, as she never lets me see her off. Orders, you know. But when I left her at half-past two that was her intention. Is anything the matter?"

      "Not that I know of, but keep near the 'phone for a few minutes, will you?"

      "You bet!" Pointer heard before he disconnected. He promptly rang up Mrs. Erskine. That lady, too, was out, Marie's voice informed him. Had Miss West been there during the afternoon? Yes, she had had tea with madame, and had left a little before six o'clock. No, she had not returned.

      Again the Chief Inspector looked thoughtfully at his boot-tips. Watts, who knew his little ways, wondered what was worrying him. In another second Pointer was speaking to Carter again and asking him to come around to his hotel at once in the big car he hired regularly.

      "For God's sake, tell me is there anything wrong with Christine," urged the Canadian; but the Chief Inspector hung up the receiver. He next tried to get into touch with the Prefecture, but the line was occupied, and before he got through Carter's car was at the door and that young man was in the room.

      "Look here, you can't keep silence like this. What's, wrong? Why did you ask about Christine?"

      "I'd like to know where she is," was all Pointer would reply. "She's not at her pension; I want to find out just where she is. Drive to the villa."

      It was close on eight o'clock when the car rushed up the drive. Pierre came out at once.

      "M. and Mme. Clark were out. They had left after six o'clock, he thought." He himself looked slightly disheveled. Marie came running down from the floor above.

      "Ah, I thought it was your voice, Monsieur Pointer! What a pity madame is out. But pray come in and rest yourselves, gentlemen." They followed her upstairs into the drawing-room.

      "Major Vaughan in?" asked Pointer.

      For answer she went to the little house 'phone on the wall. There was no reply to her ringing.

      "He is out, and his man, too, monsieur."

      "Do you know when madame will return? We must see mademoiselle as soon as possible. It is most important. She has not gone back to Cannes. We made sure that she would be spending the night here. Are you certain that she did not come back later and go out with Madame or the Clarks?"

      "Ah-h, that was, of course, quite possible. As a matter of fact there had been a dreadful upset here. Madame Clark had lost the wonderful emerald pendant she values so highly.

      "She had discovered her loss a little before six, and after that Marie hardly knew what had happened. Pierre had been sent post haste in a taxi way out to the Palais des Marguerites, where Madame Clark had been last night, in case...It was absurd to send him, but Madame Clark and her husband, usually so gay, were quite beside themselves; even the chef de cuisine and the kitchen man had been made to help in the hunt,—been sent all the distance to some lunch place at Monte Carlo. Madame Clark had got Madame Erskine to send her, Marie, in a taxi to Antibes, where the Clarks had been during the late afternoon. As for Madame Clark's own maid, it was her afternoon off. Marie did not know whether the pendant had been found or not during their absence. She herself had only just got back when M. Pointer telephoned, and as for Pierre, he also was but just returned—the others were still away. But as the car was out, the Clarks were out, and madame as well as the major were out, Marie thought that the emerald must have found itself, and the household be taking its evening amusements as usual. But what a day! Oh, la, la!"

      Pointer walked swiftly through the rooms of the flat, followed by Carter, silent and anxious. Watts, at a whisper, was looking over the rest of the house, beginning—thanks to his pass-key, with the major's rooms. Pointer stopped in a small dining-room Mrs. Erskine used for herself, or a very small dinner party of intimate friends.

      "When was the last meal served here?"

      "Not for over a week, monsieur."

      Pointer asked Marie to be kind enough to 'phone to a Mr. Deane at the Moderne to join him as soon as convenient at the villa. "He is a sort of guardian of mademoiselle. If he is not in, ask them in the hotel to look for him, and kindly wait by the 'phone. He will be in shortly in any case."

      Having thus got rid of her for some little time, Pointer stopped and picked up a couple of fair-sized crumbs.

      "They're quite fresh. Someone's had a meal here recently." He motioned Carter to stand with his back against the door, and opened a couple of cupboards. He glanced keenly СКАЧАТЬ