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CHAPTER XV
ANOTHER FLY IN THE WEB

It was a full hour by the clock when Captain Macdonald, in the hands of his burly captor, and looking as furious as it is possible for a man to look in such circumstances, entered the library at Aygon Castle, where already Mr. Narkom, Cleek, and all the other members of that ill-assorted and tragic party were already assembled, and, looking neither to right nor left of him, pushed past Maud Duggan's detaining fingers and went straight up to his man on sight.

"Look here!" he said angrily, as, hat in hand, he stood before Cleek, his countenance showing a little of what he felt inside his hot young heart. "What the deuce – what the dickens do you mean by sendin' a beastly policeman for me? That's what I want to know! I was on my way up here – the awful thing that has just happened I only heard this morning through my groom, who met one of the Castle grooms in the village, and he told him – and I was comin' up to see if I could be any help, when up comes my lord constable, seizes me by the sleeve, tips his cap, and says, 'You've got to come along with me' – just as if I'd picked a blessed pocket or something! I'm dashed well furious I can tell you! And I want an apology at once. Thought there was somethin' decidedly fishy in your appearance here in the Castle grounds last night, and now I know what you were about for."

"But, unfortunately, I don't know what you were about for, Captain," retorted Cleek with a one-sided smile. "And that's exactly what I sent for you to find out. After you have explained yourself so fully and so – so emphatically – in the presence of these ladies, I will now claim a little of your time and attention for myself.

"You were perfectly right. I happened to be coming here, upon this very unpleasant and tragic errand, at the summons of Miss Maud Duggan – "

"Maud sent for you?"

"She did. We had a prearranged signal – she'll probably tell you all about it" – he smiled at her sad young face, a hint of tenderness in his own. "You see, we happen to be friends through friends, if you can follow what I mean. Miss Duggan's school-mate and chum chances to be the lady who has done me the honour to promise to become my wife, and of course it was naturally a firm link between us."

"Maud's school-friend?" The Captain's voice was incredulous. "And you? A – a policeman! Damned funny!"

"As you say —very funny," returned Cleek, with an ironical bow. "But I must beg of you, my good Captain, to curb your language a little before the ladies. It's not done, you know, in the best society – even a mere policeman knows that. And as all this is entirely beyond the point I'm aiming at, let's get down to brass tacks at once. What I want to know is – what were you doing here last night, when the crime had only just been committed? And why did I encounter you, running from the direction of the house as fast as your feet could carry you? That's what I want to know."

A sudden gasp of amazement from Maud Duggan, hastily suppressed, brought Cleek's eyes round to her instantly. Meanwhile, the Captain, going red and white by turns, started to speak, hesitated, and then commenced again, looking the very picture of abject discomfort and unhappiness.

At last:

"Well, if you want so much to know – find out for yourself," he broke out in a sulky tone. "For I'm not going to tell you – that's flat! I've had nothing whatsoever to do with the beastly affair, and you know it. And if you don't know it, it won't take you long to find out. But what I was doing here last night is my private affair, and nothing to do with anybody."

"Oho!" said Cleek in two different tones, arching an eyebrow in Mr. Narkom's direction. "Still more emphatic, I must say! And 'absolutely refuse,' too! The Law takes no refusals, Captain Macdonald, and if you don't know that fact, you'd better learn it now. And if you and Mr. Ross Duggan happen to be friends – "

"We are friends – the best of 'em, eh, old chap?" from Ross himself.

"Very well, then. All I can say is that you are harming Mr. Duggan's case with your ridiculous silence, and if you're not pretty careful, might end in driving him into the prisoner's dock."

It was a "tall order" – and it almost carried, but not quite. For Macdonald gave out a smothered exclamation of amazement, swung around and looked at Ross, and then, meeting Maud Duggan's agonized eyes, tightened his mouth and faced Cleek again with the set expression upon his face.

"Ross Duggan's no murderer – and you know it, dash you!" he gave out in a harsh, curt voice. "And it's no business of yours what I was doing here last night. I'm a friend of the family – "

"But forbidden the house, I take it?"

Macdonald flushed an ugly crimson.

"You're exceedin'ly well informed upon family affairs, I must say!" he retorted tartly. "Yes – forbidden the house by the master of it (poor old chap!) and therefore – well, I'm not goin' to say any more. It may implicate someone else who's entirely innocent, and you won't get my mouth open with a sledge-hammer and a nail!"

"And no necessity for it, either – you dunderheaded young donkey!" thought Cleek amusedly. "For if you haven't given the whole show away, and made it perfectly plain to everybody that you were meeting your sweetheart – or about to do so – then my name's not Cleek – which, of course, it isn't! And there's no telling but that you're a better actor than you make out! And this may be a 'blind' – but at present there's no 'cover' to draw, so we'll be off cantering in the other direction until the scent's a bit stronger in yours." Aloud, he turned to the irate young man with a slight bow, and spoke in his easy, calm manner.

"Well, if you won't, you won't. These are not the days of the thumbscrew and the rack, Captain Macdonald, and a man's tongue cannot be made to speak by any other means than a little confinement in a prison cell. And I don't think that's really necessary, in your case, do you, Mr. Narkom? So we'll let that pass for the present. But I'd like you to understand that – on account of your refusing to acquaint us with the facts of your presence here in the grounds of this place last night – we are obliged, in the maintenance of Law and Order, to put you upon your parole."

"Thanks very much."

Captain Macdonald bowed, with much mockery of lip and gesture, and then, turning to the others in that silent little knot of spectators, made his way over to the side of Maud Duggan, whose face was as pale as a dead face, and in whose eyes lurked the suspicion of a great fear, and laid his hand upon her arm.

They conversed for a moment or two in low voices utterly oblivious of those others who were searching their faces with curious eyes, while in the background Ross Duggan fidgeted with his watch-chain and sent his handsome eyes searching each figure in that still room, as though in an endeavour to find a clue therein which would lift the pall of hateful suspicion from his own shoulders.

Cleek surveyed them critically. It was an abominably personal sort of case, to say the least of it. And not much to his liking. But the element of mystery in the whole affair gripped his interest in spite of these other drawbacks.

Of course there was no truth in the cock-and-bull story of the Peasant Girl – that went without saying. But that it had been used as a "blind" to cover the real perpetrators of the crime was evident to his mind. And why two of them? For in each case death would have been caused instantaneously. He looked down at the spinning wheel standing there in the recess of the window, and tried to link the thing up with it. But there seemed no peg to hang a clue upon there. Obviously the thing had been "worked" with just such an idea to disguise its real purport.

Then he thought of the letters that he had found in the desk, hidden away and yellowed with Time's fingers, and tied about with faded ribbon. And of a sudden something flashed across his face which, Mr. Narkom watching him as a cat does a mouse and knowing to a nicety what those expressions so often meant, made that worthy gentleman positively jump with excitement.

Cleek smiled at him and shook a head over his eagerness. Then he turned to the rest of them.

"No need now to prolong this unpleasant and unhappy interview," he said quietly. "Mr. Duggan has given his parole, and also the worthy Captain over there. The Yard's men will do the rest. But I must renew my request that none of you leaves this house to-day, or goes beyond the walls of the garden, unless under special permission from Mr. Narkom or myself. Just for to-day, my friends. By to-morrow perhaps the riddle may be solved, or its end in sight. But for the next twenty-four hours I must beg your assistance, every one of you, to bring it to a successful and definite close."

His request had an immediate and almost eager response. For there was not one of that little band of anxious people who was not glad to be released from the unpleasant and searching questionings of the Law, as represented by this bland gentleman of the fine manner and the polished ways, who seemed, indeed, as good as they were (if not better), and who met them upon the grounds of an equality which was hardly to be expected from one of his calling.

Maud and the Captain walked away together conversing in low voices, their faces grave. Ross, Cynthia Debenham, and Catherine Dowd – lagging a little behind, and favouring Cleek with a look of venomous hatred cast back at him over her shoulder as she passed through the open door – turned toward the terrace, where they all sat down and discussed the thing from every point of view within their reach, and came to no definite ending at all; while Lady Paula, summoning Miss McCall with a regal gesture, rose from her chair, bowed charmingly to each of the two men left in the room, and withdrew to the safety and peace of her own boudoir.

When the door had shut upon the last of them, Cleek began pacing the room excitedly, pulling at his chin and gnawing at his lower lip, which gestures brought Mr. Narkom to the conclusion that he was indulging in a "jolly good think!"

"There's more in those letters than meets the eye," Cleek said aloud, apostrophizing the wall-paper and the fireplace in turn. "H'm. Not a doubt of it. 'Jeannette.' Something Scotch in the flavour of that, eh, Mr. Narkom?.. Yes, that's my opinion, too. It wouldn't take a hammer and a nail to drive that fact home, anyhow. And the date of 'em some seventeen years back… But it's the 'humming sound' which gets me, I swear. Can't account for that, anyhow. Might be a dynamo, but there isn't a dynamo in the place, and no need for it, either. Plain stabbing and shooting upon the face of it. We'll go for a prowl this afternoon, old friend, and see what new lands we can discover."

"All right. I'm your man, Cleek – the same as always," returned Mr. Narkom affectionately, as he slapped Cleek on the shoulder with his broad hand, and then slipped it about his ally's neck and kept pace with him up and down the narrow room.

"Anything that's going – with you in it – will find me on the spot, too. I'm a bit of a slow-mover, I know – but you're such a lightning-bug of a creature that there's not a soul on earth can keep pace with you. Have you looked into that laundry-bill question you were dickering about a while ago?"

Cleek threw back his head and laughed.

"I have. But there's nothing doing there, as yet. The particular maid I questioned has got a bilious attack this afternoon and can't go over the lists for me. But I'm to hear to-morrow morning for certain… It is rather a teaser for you, isn't it, old chap? But you must bear with me until I've unravelled the ends myself, and when that's done, I'll put 'em into your hands, and you can wind 'em up for me into a tidy little ball. Let's get a move on now, there's a good fellow. By the way, who's the guilty party now, eh?"

Mr. Narkom scratched his head perplexedly and let a full minute elapse before replying.

"It's a dickens of a tangle, looking at it any way," he returned dejectedly. "I could have sworn that chap Ross Duggan had murdered his father for the simple motive of keeping his name in the will and of course the name wasn't erased, after all, was it? That's a black point against him. But this flustery-blustery-Captain-chap with his lord-high-almighty ways rather took the wind out of my sails. And when you said you had encountered him last night, Cleek, you could have knocked me down with a feather. How did it happen?"

"Oh – caught him running as hard as he could from the direction of the lawns beyond this window, and fell plump into him as the best way to attract his attention," returned Cleek serenely. "I thought it strange that he should be there at such a time. And he looked half-scared out of his wits, too. Expected me to tell the household, I suppose. Rather officious young chap, I must say – but I've a sneaking liking for him, all the same. D'you think he did the shooting, then?"

"Not a doubt of it!" Mr. Narkom was emphatic.

"Oh! And why, do you suppose?"

"Um – ah! Well, that's got to be discovered yet. Never know, Cleek; there might be some hidden business in this affair in which this Captain is involved. Anyhow, I doubt him – tremendously. Didn't ring true, I thought. Rather too noisy and all that."

"And you believe in the adage that 'empty vessels make the most sound,' I take it?" rejoined Cleek with a smile. "Well, perhaps you're right. Only I wouldn't call that young gentleman an empty vessel… Anyhow, this evening will elucidate matters a little. For I'm going to remove that muffling for the nonce, and substitute another one. And it ought to prove quite an enlightening job, too!"

So saying, he swung out of the courtyard of the house, vaulting the window lightly, and reaching a helping hand up to Mr. Narkom, who came through less easily, perspiring at every pore. And suddenly Cleek's finger went up to his lips, and with a hasty "Hush!" for his wheezy comrade, he drew back into the screen of the bushes, standing as still as a statue, all eyes, while the amazing thing came to pass!

CHAPTER XVI
"TENS!"

"Did you see that, Mr. Narkom? Did you see that?" rapped out Cleek excitedly, when – a few minutes later – he stepped free from the detaining bushes and beckoned the Superintendent from his hiding-place. "Recognize the cut of that lady – eh? And notice anything else about her?"

"Only that she looked like that Lady Paula Duggan who was here a few minutes ago," rejoined Mr. Narkom breathlessly. "But what had she got that black thing over her head for? – sort of veil, wasn't it? Couldn't see her face through – and gad! but how lightly she stepped!"

"Rubber shoes, my dear fellow! Where were your eyes?" snapped Cleek with a hasty exclamation. "Off somewhere where she doesn't want to be seen. I'll swear. And as this courtyard leads out into the backwoods of the place, to that forest ridge which girts it about, and thence on to the Great Free Road as it's called, she's meeting someone whom she doesn't want any one to see – and doesn't want to be discovered in the act, either… Hello! here's Dollops at last! Just the very chap I was wanting. Here, lad, there's work for you. Run along and track down that lady in black who is disappearing so rapidly up there by the right-hand side of the hedge – and keeping pretty close to it, too, for shelter from the watching eye in the household. Gad! lucky thing we came out this way, Mr. Narkom, and caught her napping. She never thought of that, I suppose. Seems a woman of one idea all through, doesn't she? The beautiful, sleepy-eyed cat-creature! I've met her kind before. All purr and softness when she's a friend – and a perfect she-devil when an enemy. Now, then, Dollops, your legs are nimble, so slip up after her, but don't on any account let her know you're doing it. And I'll follow in a moment or two. But don't let her get away without discovering where she's going to. Mr. Narkom, you wait here, will you, and keep watch in case she returns, or any one else in the know follows after, while I nip up to the lady's boudoir, and enquire where she has gone to. I'll dare swear she's 'lying down with a headache and has given orders not to be disturbed.'"

And his imaginings proved to be correct, for that was exactly the case. For Miss McCall, encountered in the outer passage from her lady's room, with coat and hat on, and pulling on a pair of neatly darned cotton gloves, met him, blushed like the timid little thing she was, and answered him in all faith that what she spoke was true.

"Lady Paula? I believe she's lying down, Mr. Deland. She told me on no account to disturb her and to let everyone else know that she wished a couple of hours' quiet," she said in her soft, gentle voice, lifting her timid eyes to his face. "It's been a shock, I suppose" – her face and voice hardened – "but she'll get over it – as she gets over everything else that happens to worry her. She said she'd be down for tea, however; and Master Cyril has gone off with Mr. Duggan and his fiancée for a walk round the laboratory. It's – it's all very sad, Mr. Deland, isn't it?"

"Very," rejoined Cleek. "Very sad, indeed. For a house divided against itself, Miss McCall – you know the rest of the biblical quotation. And I'm afraid that is exactly what will happen in this case… Oh, well, lying down, is she? Then I won't disturb her. Going out?"

"Yes. Just along to Mr. Tavish's cottage, at the bottom of the drive," she responded a trifle drearily. "Mr. Tavish and I, you know, are – engaged. I have tea with him sometimes, and try to do some of his mending. It's hard for a man to live alone, as he does."

"Indeed it is. Engaged? Then may I offer you my congratulations, Miss McCall? I won't detain you any longer, as I know you must be anxious to get along. A little freedom in the fresh air will do you good. We shall meet again later, I've no doubt. Good-bye."

She nodded to him brightly and disappeared down the hill, and Cleek could hear her soft feet beating upon the carpet as she passed down the stairs.

Once out of sight of her, he darted into the room which he knew was Lady Paula's, and closed the door softly behind him, turning the key in the lock. It was just the sort of boudoir he would have imagined her choosing – a place all soft pillows and low divans, and hung in silks of Eastern colourings, so that it resembled nothing so much as the home of a sultan's favourite, from the low Turkish stool standing by the couch-side, with the little filigree box of cigarettes upon it, accompanied by a match-case en suite, to a tiny jewelled inlaid holder bearing a half-smoked cigarette in it. Cleek picked it up, smelt it, smelt it again, and then pursed his lips up into a low whistle of astonishment.

"My lady indulges in a delicate drug now and again, does she?" he told himself, examining the thing with some distaste. "And for that reason one may find excuse for the hysteria of this morning. That lends fresh colour to the case, certainly. For a drug-fiend in plain parlance is little more than a fool, and a half-balanced fool at that… I'll take a peep at those drawers in that secretaire, my lady, and see if you have anything to reveal to me. For an ambitious drug-fiend would stop at nothing to gain her own ends, and if those same ends should happen to be such a heritage as this for her son and herself… Hello! what's this? Tablets, eh? But the bottle unmarked."

He drew one out of the little phial and laid it in the palm of his hand, and with the other thumb as piston, ground it down to fine powder and then, sniffed it, recollecting that story which Maud Duggan had told him of her suspicions with regard to the poisoning of her father. But after he had touched the tip of his tongue to it, he smiled a little.

"H'm. Nothing but aspirin. I thought as much, certainly, when she told me the story. So that explodes that little theory once and for all – if there was anything in it from the beginning… Nicely appointed chamber, I must say." He walked leisurely about it, lifting a pillow there, and dropping it back into its place, and straightening the set of a chair, pushed out of its usual position by a very obvious hurry of the room's occupant.

And he was just in the act of doing this trivial thing when he came upon a little screw of paper lying in a twisted ball beneath a chair which stood close up to the Turkish stool, and evidently dropped by accident (which undoubtedly was the fact). Cleek stooped to pick it up, smoothed it out in his fingers, and then of a sudden sucked in his breath, and every muscle in that well-organized frame of his went taut as iron. For the paper – innocent as it looked – contained news which certainly was enough to startle the most unsuspicious police-constable in existence. For, written across its surface, having neither name nor address nor date, and in a calligraphy which was undoubtedly foreign, were the words:

Meet me at three o'clock by the G. F. Road. Everything successfully carried out. Muffled clapper. Must see you. Utmost importance.

A. M.

"Hello! Hello!" rapped out Cleek in the sharp staccato of excitement. "Then she did have something to do with it, after all, did she? Gad! a dollar to a ducat that there's someone else in this affair whom we've never even hit upon yet! What a bit of luck Dollops turned up at that moment – when she was just on the way! Let's see – what's the time? Three o'clock. Gad! I'll nip along myself, and come in at the finish, and hear what I can hear from the good lady's lips herself, and see who the dickens it is who's meeting her. There's more in this than meets the eye, Cleek my boy, and don't you forget it!"

Following the direction shown him by Mr. Narkom (who was still standing like a monument of Patience in the little shrubbery where they had first caught sight of her wandering ladyship), Cleek pelted off in the direction of the woods, every faculty alert, and in the hastily donned rubber-soled shoes proving himself a silent if a fleet-footed pursuer.

But he was doomed to disappointment upon his quest. For halfway toward the Great Free Road as that portion of the country was called, through a belt of thick trees which entirely hid the landscape from view, he met Dollops, looking disconsolately upon the ground, hands in pockets and face dejected, and cannoned into him as they came abreast of each other.

Dollops's face went crimson at sight of Cleek, and then paled off suddenly. His voice was tragic in the extreme.

"Missed 'er, Guv'nor!" he declared laconically. "Missed 'er for the first time in all my existence upon this 'ere plannit! Give me the slip, strite she did, but 'ow, is a question as 'as fair diddled me. I follered 'er up to 'ere as good as you please, and then of a suddint 'eard voices to the left of me, did a bunk after 'em, as I knowed you'd wish me to, sir, and – that there she-devil 'ad disappeared as smooth as you please! A fair ghost she were, Guv'nor, strite – an' if she ain't the Peasant Girl wot 'aunts these parts, then I'm a Dutchman!"

But Cleek had not the heart to smile at the boy's excited preamble. He was too disappointed at losing his quarry so easily when this new thing had been thrust right into his hands in this fashion, and the chance of elucidating the mystery so incredibly easy – judging by the crumpled note in his breast-pocket. Another such opportunity would never occur again – one could not hope for things to happen in duplicate.

"Dollops! Dollops!" he exclaimed, with a shake of the head. "Where is your training in Apache quarters gone to, I'd like to know? Letting a mere woman elude you, as though she had been Margot, Queen of the Apaches, herself. And doing the ventriloquial trick so successfully upon you, too! And at the very crux of the case, just when I'd found the clue of all others which was likely to establish the truth of the whole appalling affair! I'm disappointed. But it can't be helped, so put away your crestfallen countenance, and come back to the house with me. We'll have to wait until evening now, and see what comes to pass to-night. Did the lady actually see you by any chance?"

"Don't know, sir." Dollops's voice was dejected. "Suppose she must 'er done, by the way she slipped the leash on me, so ter speak. Why, sir?"

"Because, my young jackanapes, if that is the case, the scarcer you make yourself the better," returned Cleek rapidly. "For it's no use your allying yourself to me in her ladyship's presence, for the fat would be in the fire with a vengeance. And now, about that other affair… You did what I told you? And what did your bit of private 'detecting' bring forth, may I ask?"

For a second Dollops's glum face lit up, and his eyes shone. Here at least he had found something with which actually to help. There was a hint of triumph in his tones.

"Got 'em 'id in the shrubs, sir," he returned enthusiastically. "Done up in brahn paper, they are, and ready for examination on sight. 'Untin' boots, Mr. Cleek, sir – gent's 'untin'-boots, and that thick wiv mud as ter look like blessed gardings too. Fit fer growin' a crop of taties in, I swear, sir. An' fahnd 'em 'idden in a bush er laurels as large as life."

"Whew! Is that all, then? Nothing under-ground?"

"No, sir. Not a blinkin' thing."

"Um. Pity. You must show me the hunting-boots, Dollops; they may prove a clue – though just how they would be connected with this particular case remains to be seen. Very muddy, eh? Any name inside?"

Dollops nodded.

He looked hastily from side to side to see that no one was listening. Then he bent toward Cleek with a mysterious manner and spoke in a bated voice.

"Yessir. Belongs to a gen'leman as is sweet on the young leddy we come along wiv yesterday from Lunnon," he replied weightily. "Or so they tell me up at the Three Fishers. Name of Macdonald – Captain Angus Macdonald. Writ inside 'em as large as life and twice as nat'ril. Eh? – wot's the matter, sir?"

For Cleek had whirled about suddenly and struck his hands together, and was laughing, laughing like a man gone suddenly daft. He stopped abruptly and put one hand upon Dollops's shoulder.

"Matter?" he said rapidly. "Why, simply this: Get a line on this young Captain's handwriting, Dollops, and report to me this afternoon. And if it tallies with this note, as I somehow fancy it does – well, we'll see the fur fly so quickly that you won't be able to say Jack Robinson. Happen to notice the size of the boots, by any chance?"

"Yessir. Tens."

"Good lad. And the footprints outside of the window in that little courtyard are tens, too! The net's closing in upon you, my gallant friend, and you won't get a chance to do much more spluttering and exclaiming before I've found out what your little move in this Inheritance Game is, and – nipped it in the bud!.. Gad! – Captain Angus Macdonald! And – tens!.. Now, who the dickens would have thought it?"