It was half-past five o'clock of that Monday evening when Lauriston, for the second time, turned into the narrow passage which led to the pawnshop door. He had already looked carefully through the street window, in the hope of seeing Zillah inside the front shop. But there was no Zillah to be seen; the front shop was empty. Nor did Zillah confront him when he stepped into the little boxed-in compartment in the pawnshop. There was a curious silence in the placebroken only by the quiet, regular ticking of a clock. That ticking grew oppressive during the minute or two that he waited expecting somebody to step forward. He rapped on the counter at lastgently at first, then more insistently. But nobody came. The clockhidden from his sightwent on ticking.
Lauriston bent over the counter at last and craned his neck to look into the open door of a little parlour which lay behind the shop. The next instant, with no thought but of the exigencies of the moment, he had leapt over the partition and darted into the room. There, stretched out across the floor, his head lying on the hearthrug, his hands lying inert and nerveless at his sides, lay an old man, grey-bearded, venerableDaniel Multenius, no doubt. He lay very still, very statuesqueand Lauriston, bending over and placing a trembling hand on the high, white forehead, knew that he was dead.
He started uphis only idea that of seeking help. The whole place was so still that he knew he was alone with the dead in it. Instinctively, he ran through the front shop to the street doorand into the arms of a man who was just entering.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE PLATINUM SOLITAIRE
The newcomer, an elderly, thick-set man, who, in spite of his plain clothes, looked as if he were an official of some sort and carried some documents in his hand, at which he was glancing as he entered, started and exclaimed as Lauriston, in his haste, ran up against him. "Hullo!" he said. "What's the matter? You seem in a hurry, young fellow!"
Lauriston, almost out of breath with excitement, turned and pointed to the open door of the little parlour.
"There's an old manlying in theredead!" he whispered. "A grey-bearded old manis it the pawn-brokerMr. Multenius?"
The man stared, craned his neck to glance in the direction which Lauriston's shaking finger indicated, and then started forward. But he suddenly paused, and motioned Lauriston to go firstand before following him he closed the street door.
"Now then, where?" he said. "Dead, do you say?" He followed Lauriston into the parlour, uttered a sharp exclamation as he caught sight of the recumbent figure, and, bending down, laid a hand on the forehead. "Dead, right enough, my lad!" he muttered. "Been dead some minutes, too. Butwhere's the girlthe grand-daughter? Have you seen anybody?"
"Not a soul!" answered Lauriston. "Since I came in, the whole place has been as still asas it is now!"
The man stared at him for a second or two, silently; then, as if he knew the ins and outs of the establishment, he strode to an inner door, threw it open and revealed a staircase.
"Hullo there!" he called loudly. "Hullo! Miss Wildrose! Are you there?"
This was the first time Lauriston had heard Zillah's surname: even in the midst of that startling discovery, it struck him as a very poetical one. But he had no time to reflect on itthe man turned back into the parlour.
"She must be out," he said. "Do you say you found him?"
"YesI found him," answered Lauriston. "Just now."
"And what were you doing here?" asked the man. "Who are you?"
Lauriston fancied he detected a faint note of suspicion in these questions, and he drew himself up, with a flush on his face.
"My name's Andrew Lauriston," he answered. "I live close by. I came in onbusiness. Who are you?"
"Well, if it comes to that, my lad," said the man, "I'm Detective-Sergeant Ayscoughknown well enough around these parts! I came to see the old gentleman about these papers. Nowwhat was your business, then?"
He was watching Lauriston very keenly, and Lauriston, suddenly realizing that he was in an awkward position, determined on candour.
"Well, if you really want to know," he said, "I came to borrow some moneyon these rings."
And he opened his left hand and showed the detective the two rings which he had taken from his trunknot half-an-hour before.
"Your property?" asked Ayscough.
"Of course they're my property!" exclaimed Lauriston. "Whose else should they be?"
Ayscough's glance wandered from the rings to a table which stood, a little to one side, in the middle of the parlour. Lauriston turned in that direction, also. Two objects immediately met his eye. On the table stood a small tray, full of ringsnot dissimilar in style and appearance to those which he held in his hand: old-fashioned rings. The light from the gas-brackets above the mantel-piece caught the facets of the diamonds in those rings and made little points of fire; here and there he saw the shimmer of pearls. But there was another object. Close by the tray of old rings lay a booka beautifully bound book, a small quarto in size, with much elaborate gold ornament on the back and side, and gilt clasps holding the heavy leather binding together. It looked as if some hand had recently thrown this book carelessly on the table.
But Ayscough gave little, if any, attention to the book: his eyes were fixed on the rings in the trayand he glanced from them to Lauriston's rings.
"Um!" he said presently. "Odd that you have a couple of rings, young man, just likethose! Isn't it?"
"What do you mean?" demanded Lauriston, flushing scarlet. "You don't suggest"
"Don't suggest anythingjust now," answered the detective, quietly. "But you must stop here with me, until I find out more. Come to the doorwe must have help here."
Lauriston saw there was nothing to do but to obey, and he followed Ayscough to the street door. The detective opened it, looked out, and waiting a few minutes, beckoned to a policeman who presently strolled along. After a whispered word or two, the policeman went away, and Ayscough beckoned Lauriston back into the shop.
"Now," he said, "there'll be some of our people and a surgeon along in a few minutesbefore they come, just tell me your story. You're an honest-looking young chapbut you must admit that it looks a bit queer that I should find you running out of this shop, old Multenius dead inside his parlour, and you with a couple of rings in your possession which look uncommonly like his property! Just tell me how it came about."
Lauriston told him the plain truthfrom the pawning of the watch to the present visit. Ayscough watched him narrowlyand at the end nodded his head.
"That sounds like a straight tale, Mr. Lauriston," he said. "I'm inclined to believe every word you say. But I shall have to report it, and all the circumstances, and you'll have to prove that these two rings were your mother's, and all thatand you must stay here till the doctor comes with our people. Queer that the old man should be alone! I wonder where his grand-daughter is?"
But just then the street door opened and Zillah came in, a big bunch of flowers under one arm, some small parcels in the other. At the sight of the two men she started; crimsoned as she saw Lauriston; paled again as she noticed that Ayscough was evidently keeping an eye on him.
"Mr. Ayscough!" she exclaimed. "What's this?is something the matter?
What are you doing here?" she went on hurriedly, turning to Lauriston.
"Inside the shop! What's happened?tell me, one of you?"
The detective purposely kept himself and Lauriston between Zillah and the open door at the rear of the shop. He made a kindly motion of his head towards her.
"Now, my dear!" he said. "Don't get upsetyour grandfather was getting a very old man, you knowand we can't expect old gentlemen to live for ever. Take it quietly, now!"
The girl turned and laid her flowers and parcels on the counter. Lauriston, watching her anxiously, saw that she was nerving herself to be brave.
"That meanshe's dead?" she said. "I am quietyou see I'm quiet. Tell me what's happenedyou tell me," she added, glancing at Lauriston. "Tell menow!"
"I came in and found no one here, and I looked round through the door into the parlour there," answered Lauriston, "and I saw your grandfather lying on the floor. So I jumped over the counter and went to him."
Zillah moved forward as if to go into the parlour. But the detective stopped her, glancing from her to Lauriston.
"You know this young man, Miss Wildrose?" he asked. "You've met him before?"
"Yes," replied Zillah, confidently. "He's Mr. Lauriston. Let me go in there, please. Can nothing be done?"
But Ayscough only shook his head. There was nothing to be donebut to await the arrival of the doctor. They followed the girl into the parlour and stood by while she bent over the dead man. She made no demonstration of grief, and when Ayscough presently suggested that she should go upstairs until the doctor had come, she went quietly away.
"Hadn't we better lift him on that sofa?" suggested Lauriston.
"Not till our people and the police-surgeon have seen him," answered Ayscough, shaking his head. "I want to know all about thishe may have died a natural deatha seizure of some sortand again, he mayn'tThey'll be here in a minute."
Lauriston presently found himself a passive spectator while a police-inspector, another man in plain clothes, and the doctor examined the body, after hearing Ayscough's account of what had just happened. He was aware that he was regarded with suspicionthe inspector somewhat brusquely bade him stay where he was: it would, indeed, have been impossible to leave, for there was a policeman at the door, in which, by his superior's orders, he had turned the key. And there was a general, uncomfortable sort of silence in the place while the doctor busied himself about the body.
"This man has been assaulted!" said the doctor, suddenly turning to the inspector. "Look here!he's not only been violently gripped by the right armlook at that bruisebut taken savagely by the throat. There's no doubt of that. Old and evidently feeble as he was, the shock would be quite enough to kill him. Butthat's how it's been done, without a doubt."
The inspector turned, looking hard at Lauriston.
"Did you see anybody leaving the place when you entered?" he asked.
"There was no one about here when I came ineither at the street door or at the side door," replied Lauriston, readily. "The whole place was quietdesertedexcept for him. Andhe was dead when I found him."
The inspector drew Ayscough aside and they talked in whispers for a few minutes, eyeing Lauriston now and then; eventually they approached him.
"I understand you're known here, and that you live in the neighbourhood," said the inspector. "You'll not object if the sergeant goes round with you to your lodgingsyou'll no doubt be able to satisfy him about your respectability, and so on. I don't want to suggest anythingbutyou understand?"
"I understand," replied Lauriston. "I'll show or tell him anything he likes. I've told you the plain truth."
"Go with him now," directed the inspector; "you know what to do, Ayscough!"
Half an hour later, when the dead man had been carried to his room, and the shop and house had been closed, Melky Rubinstein, who had come in while the police were still there, and had remained when they had gone, stood talking to Zillah in the upstairs sitting-room. Melky was unusually grave: Zillah had already gathered that the police had some suspicion about Lauriston.
"I'll go round there and see what the detective fellow's doing with him," said Melky. "I ain't got no suspicion about himnot me! Butit's an awkward positionand them rings, too! Now, if he'd only ha' shown 'em to me, first, Zillahsee?"
"Do go, Melky!" urged Zillah tearfully. "Of course, he'd nothing to do with it. Oh!I wish I'd never gone out!"
Melky went downstairs. He paused for a moment in the little parlour, glancing meditatively at the place where the old man had been found dead. And suddenly his keen eyes saw an object which lay close to the fender, half hidden by a tassel of the hearthrug, and he stooped and picked it upa solitaire stud, made of platinum, and ornamented with a curious device.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE TWO LETTERS
Once outside the shop, Lauriston turned sharply on the detective.
"Look here!" he said. "I wish you'd just tell me the truth. Am I suspected? Am Iin some way or otherin custody?"
Ayscough laughed quietly, wagging his head.
"Certainly not in custody," he answered. "And as to the otherwell, you know, Mr. Lauriston, supposing we put it in this way?suppose you'd been me, and I'd been you, half-an-hour ago? What would you have thought if you'd found me in the situation and under the circumstances in which I found you? Come, now!"
"Yes," replied Lauriston, after a moment's reflection. "I suppose it's natural that you should suspect mefinding me there, alone with the old man. But"
"It's not so much suspicion in a case of this sort, as a wish to satisfy one's self," interrupted the detective. "You seem a gentleman-like young fellow, and you may be all right. I want to know that you areI'd like to know that you are! It would be no satisfaction to me to fasten this business on you, I can assure you. And if you like to tell me about yourself, and how you came to go to Multenius'swhy, it would be as well."
"There's not much to tell," answered Lauriston. "I came from Scotland to London, two years ago or thereabouts, to earn my living by writing. I'd a bit of money when I cameI've lived on it till now. I've just begun to earn something. I've been expecting a cheque for some work for these last ten or twelve days, but I was running short last weekso I went to that place to pawn my watchI saw the young lady there. As my cheque hadn't arrived today, I went there again to pawn those rings I told you about and showed you. Andthat's all. Except thisI was advised to go to Multenius's by a relation of theirs, Mr. Rubinstein, who lodges where I do. He knows me."
"Oh, Melky Rubinstein!" said Ayscough. "I know Melkysharp chap he is. He sold me this pin I'm wearing. Well, that seems quite a straightforward tale, Mr. Lauriston. I've no doubt all will be satisfactory. You've friends in London, of course?"
"Nonone," replied Lauriston. "And scarcely an acquaintance. I've kept to myselfworking hard: I've had no timenor inclination, eitherto make friends. Here's the house where I lodgeit's not much of a place, but come in."
They had reached Mrs. Flitwick's house by that time, and Mrs. Flitwick herself was in the narrow, shabby passage as they entered. She immediately produced two letters.
"Here's two letters for you, Mr. Lauriston," she said, with a sharp glance at Ayscough. "One of 'em's a registeredI did sign for it. So I kept 'em myself, instead of sending 'em up to your room."
"Thank you, Mrs. Flitwick," said Lauriston. He took the letters, saw that the writing on the registered envelope was his old friend John Purdie's, and that the other letter was from the magazine to which he had sold his stories, and turned to Ayscough. "Come up to my room," he continued. "We'll talk up there."
Ayscough followed him up to his roomonce inside, and the door shut, Lauriston tore open the letter from the magazine, and extracted a printed form and a cheque for twenty guineas. He took one look at them and thrust them into the detective's hands.