Max Barclay, or Mr Evans as he had several times given his name, had run the gauntlet of the shopwalkers of the outer shops, and penetrated anxiously to the costumes. At that hour there were no customers. Before eleven there is but little shopping in Oxford Street. Buyers then see travellers, who come in their broughams, and assistants re-arrange and display their stocks.
On entering the department, Max at once caught sight of the tall fair-haired girl who, with her back to him, was arranging a linen costume upon a stand.
Two other girls glanced across at him, but, knowing the truth, did not ask what he required. He was Miss Rolfes admirer, they guessed, for men did not usually come in alone and buy twenty-guinea ready-made costumes for imaginary relatives as he had done.
He was standing behind her before she turned suddenly, and blushed in surprise. Warner, sitting in his little glass desk, noticed the look upon the girls face and fully realised the situation. He liked Marions brother, while the girl herself was extremely modest and an excellent saleswoman. He knew that Charles Rolfe and this Mr Evans were friends, and that fact had prevented him from forbidding the flirtation to continue.
Evans was evidently a gentleman. Of that he had no doubt.
Why! she exclaimed to her lover. This is really a great surprise. You are early?
Because I wanted to see you, Marion, he answered, quickly.
She noticed his anxiety, and in an instant grew alarmed.
Why, whats the matter? she asked, glancing round to see whether the other girls were watching her. You ought not to come here, you know, Max. I fear Mr Warner will object to you seeing me in business hours.
Oh! never mind him, darling, he replied, in a low voice. I want to ask you a question or two. Where did you see Maud last night?
I met her at the door at Queens Hall. I was to go to Cromwell Road to call for her, but she telegraphed to me at the last moment. She was with Charlie, she told me.
And where is Charlie?
Gone to Servia. He left Charing Cross by the mail last night.
Max reflected that his friend had not left as his sister supposed.
And where did you leave Maud?
I walked to the tube station at Piccadilly Circus, and left her there. She went to Earls Court Station, and I took a bus home. She told me that youd been to see the Doctor earlier in the evening. But why do you ask all this?
Because well, because, Marion, something unusual has occurred, he replied.
Unusual! she echoed. What do you mean?
Did Maud tell you anything about her future movements last night or mention her fathers intentions?
Intentions of what?
Of leaving the house in Cromwell Road.
No; she told me nothing. Only
Only what?
Well, it struck me that she had something on her mind. You know how bright and merry she usually is. Well, last night she seemed very thoughtful, and I wondered whether she had had any little difference with Charlie.
You mean that they may have quarrelled?
I hardly think that likely, she said, quickly. Charlie is far too fond of her, as you know.
And her father does not altogether approve of it, Max remarked. He has told me so.
Poor Charlie! the girl said, for she was very fond of her brother. He was always a good friend to her, and gave her money to buy her dresses and purchase the few little luxuries which her modest stipend as a shop-assistant would not allow her to otherwise possess. Im sure hes devoted to Maud. And shes one of the best girls I know. Theyd make a perfect pair. But the Doctors a foreigner, and doesnt really understand Englishmen.
Perhaps thats it, Max said, trying to assume a careless air, for he felt that a hundred eyes were upon him.
Their position was not a very comfortable one, to say the least. He knew that he ought not to have come there during business hours, but the mystery had so puzzled him that he felt he must continue his inquiries. He had fully expected the morning post to bring him a line from the Doctor. But there had been nothing.
Both he and Maud had disappeared suddenly, leaving no trace behind no trace except that womans coat with the stain of blood upon the breast.
Was it one of Mauds dresses, he wondered. In the band he had noticed the name of its maker Maison Durand, of Conduit Street one of the best dressmakers in London. True he had found it in the servants quarters, but domestics did not have their clothes made by Durand.
But tell me, Max, said the girl, her fine eyes fixed upon her lover, what makes you suggest that the Doctor is about to leave Cromwell Road.
He has left already, was Maxs reply. Thats the curious part of it.
Left! Moved away!
Yes. I came to ask you what you know about it. Theyve gone away without a word!
How? Why, you were there last evening!
I was. But soon after I left, and while Maud was with you at the concert, three vans came from Harmers Stores and cleared out the whole of the furniture.
There wasnt a bill of sale, or something of that sort, I suppose? she suggested.
Certainly not. The Doctor is a wealthy man. The copper mines of Kaopanik bring him in a splendid income in themselves, Max said. No; theres a mystery a very great mystery about the affair.
A mystery! Tell me all about it! she cried, anxiously, for Maud was her best friend, while the Doctor had also been extremely kind to her.
I dont know anything, he responded. Except that the whole place by half-past ten last night had been cleared out of furniture. Only the grand piano and a few big pieces have been left. Harmers have taken the whole of it to their depository at Chiswick.
Well, thats most extraordinary, certainly, she said, opening her eyes in blank surprise. Maud must have known what was taking place. Possibly that is why she was so melancholy and pensive.
Did she say nothing which would throw any light upon their sadden disappearance?
Marion reflected for a few moments, her brows slightly knit in thought.
Well, she said something about her father being much worried, but she did not tell me why. About a fortnight ago she told me that both she and her father had many enemies, one of whom would not hesitate to kill him if a chance occurred. I tried to get from her the reason, but she would not tell me.
But you dont think that the Doctor has been the victim of an assassin, do you? Max asked in apprehension.
No; but Maud may have been, she answered. Killed?
I hope not, yet
Why do you hesitate, Marion, to tell me all you know? he urged. There is a mystery here which we must fathom.
My brother knows nothing yet, I suppose.
Barclay hesitated.
I suppose not, was his reply.
Then, before I say anything, I must see him.
But hes away in Servia, is he not? He wont be back for six months.
Then I must wait till he returns, she answered, decisively.
Maud has told you something. Come, admit it, he urged.
The girl was silent for a full minute.
Yes, she sighed. She did tell me something.
When?
Last night, as we were walking together to the station something that I refused to believe. But I believe it now.
Then you know the truth, he cried. If there had not been some unfair play, the Doctor would never have disappeared without first telling me. He has many times entrusted me with his secrets.
I quite believe that he would have telegraphed or written, she said. He looked upon you as his best friend in London.
And, Marion, this very fact causes me to suspect foul play, he said, the recollection of that fugitive in the night flashing across his brain. What do you, in the light of this secret knowledge, suspect?
Her lips were closed tightly, and there was a strange look in her eyes.
I believe, Max, she replied, in a low, hard voice, that something terrible must have happened to Maud!
Did she apprehend something?
I cannot tell. She confessed to me something under a bond of secrecy. Before I tell you I must consult Charlie the man she loved so dearly.
But are we not lovers, Marion? he asked, in a low intense voice. Cannot you tell me what she said, in order that I may institute inquiries at once. Delay may mean the escape of the assassin if there really has been foul play.
I cannot betray Mauds confidence, Max, was her calm answer.
This response of hers struck him as implying that Maud had confessed something not very creditable to herself, something which she, as a woman, hesitated to tell him. If this were actually true, however, why should she reveal the truth to Mauds lover? Would she not rather hide it from him?
But you will not see Charlie for months, he exclaimed, in dismay. What are we to do in the meantime?
We can only wait, she answered. I cannot break my oath to my friend.
Then you took an oath not to repeat what she told you?
She told me something amazing concerning
And she hesitated.
Concerning herself, he added. Well?
It was a confession, Max a a terrible confession. I had not a wink of sleep last night for her words rang in my ears, and her face, wild and haggard, haunted me in the darkness. Ah! it is beyond credence horrible! but but, Max leave me. These people are noticing us. I will see you to-night, where you like. Only go go! I cant bear to talk of it! Poor Maud! What that confession must have cost her! And why? Ah, I see it all now! Because because she knew that her end was near!
Chapter Seven.
Contains Several Revelations
Max Barclay re-traced his steps along Oxford Street much puzzled. What Marion had told him was both startling and curious in face of the sudden disappearance of the Doctor and his daughter. If the latter had made a confession, as she apparently had, then Marion was, after all, perfectly within her right in not betraying her friend.
Yet what could that confession be? Marion had said it was a terrible confession, and as he went along he tried in vain to imagine its nature.
The morning was bright and sunlit, and Oxford Street was already busy. About the Circus the ebb and flow of traffic had already begun, and the windows of the big drapery shops were already attracting the feminine crowds with their announcements of summer sales and baits of great bargains.
For a moment he paused at the kerb, then, entering a hansom, he drove to Mariners Stores, the great emporium in Knightsbridge, which had been entrusted with the removal of the Doctors furniture.
Without much difficulty he found the manager, a short, dapper, little frock-coated freckled-faced business man, and explained the nature of his inquiry.
The man seemed somewhat puzzled, and, going to a desk, opened a big ledger and slowly turned the pages.
I think there must be some mistake, sir, was his reply. We have had no removal of that name yesterday.
But they were at Cromwell Road late last night, Max declared. The police saw them there.
The police could not have seen any of our vans removing furniture from Cromwell Road last night, protested the manager. See here for yourself. Yesterday there were four removals only Croydon to Southsea, Fitzjohns Avenue to Lower Norwood, South Audley Street to Ashley Gardens, and Elgin Avenue to Finchley. Here they are, and he pointed to the page whereon the particulars were inscribed.
The goods in question were removed by you from Cromwell Road, and stored in your depository at Chiswick.
I think, sir, you really must be mistaken, replied the manager, shaking his head. Did you see our vans there yourself?
No. The police did, and made inquiry.
With the usual result, I suppose, that they bungled, and told you the wrong name.
Theyve got it written down in their books.
Well, all I can say is, that we didnt remove any furniture from the road you mention.
But it was at night.
We do not undertake a job at night unless we receive a guarantee from the landlord that the rent is duly paid, and ascertain that no money is owing.
Max was now puzzled more than ever.
The police say that the effects were sent to your depository, he remarked, dissatisfied with the managers assurance.
In that case inquiry is very easy, he said, and walking to the telephone he rang up the depository at Chiswick.
Is that you, Merrick? he asked over the phone. I say! Have you been warehousing any goods either yesterday or to-day, or do you know of a job in Cromwell Road, at the house of a Doctor Petrovitch?
For a full minute he waited the reply. At last it came, and he heard it to the end.
No, he said, putting down the receiver and turning to Barclay. As I expected. They know nothing of the matter at the depository.
But how do you account for your vans two pantechnicons and a covered van being there? he asked.
The manager shook his head.
We have here the times when each job in London was finished, and when the vans returned to the yard. They were all in by 7:30. Therefore, they could not have been ours.
Well, thats most extraordinary.
Is it somebody who has disappeared?
Yes.
Ah! the vans were, no doubt, painted with our names specially, in order to mislead the police, he said. Theres some shady transaction somewhere, sir, depend upon it. Perhaps the gentleman wanted to get his things away, eh?
No. He had no necessity for so doing. He was quite well off no debts, or anything of that kind.
Well, its evident that if our name is registered in the police occurrences the vans were painted with our name for some illegal purpose. The gentlemans disappeared, you say.
Yes. And well, to tell you the truth, I suspect foul play.
Have you told the police that? asked the man, suddenly interested.
No; not yet. Ive come to you first.
Then if I were you Id tell the police the result of your inquiries, the manager said. No doubt theres a crooked incident somewhere.
Thats just what I fear. Quite a number of men most have been engaged in clearing the place out.
Have you been over it? Is it entirely cleared?
Nearly. The grand piano and a big book-case have been; left.
I wonder if its been done by professional removers, or by amateurs? suggested the manager.
Ah! I dont know. If you saw the state of the place youd know, wouldnt you?
Most probably.
Then if youll come with me Ill be delighted to show you, and you can give me your opinion.
So the pair entered a cab, and a quarter of an hour later were passing along the hall of the empty house. The manager of Harmers removals inspected room after room, noticed how the curtains had been torn down, and noted in the fire grate of the drawing-room a quantity of tinder where a number of papers seemed to have been burned.