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THE ORANGE-YELLOW DIAMOND CHAPTER ONE THE PRETTY PAWNBROKER
THE ORANGE-YELLOW DIAMOND CHAPTER ONE THE PRETTY PAWNBROKER
On the southern edge of the populous parish of Paddington, in a parallelogram bounded by Oxford and Cambridge Terrace on the south, Praed Street on the north, and by Edgware Road on the east and Spring Street on the west, lies an assemblage of mean streets, the drab dulness of which forms a remarkable contrast to the pretentious architectural grandeurs of Sussex Square and Lancaster Gate, close by. In these streets the observant will always find all those evidences of depressing semi-poverty whi
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CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER TWO
Lauriston thrust his hands in his pockets and looked at the girl in sheer perplexity. She was a very pretty, dark girl, nearly as tall as himself, slender and lissom of figure, and decidedly attractive. There was evident sense of fun and humour in her eyes, and about the corners of her lips: he suddenly got an idea that she was amused at his embarrassment. "How much can you lend me?" he asked. "What—what's it worth?" "No, that's not it!" she answered. "It's—what do you want to borrow? You're not
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CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER THREE
Lauriston was thinking about Zillah at the very moment in which she spoke to him: the memory of her dark eyes and the friendly smile that she had given him as he left the pawnshop had come as a relief in the midst of his speculations as to his immediate future. And now, as he saw her real self, close to him, evidently disposed to be friendly, he blushed like any girl, being yet at that age when shyness was still a part of his character. Zillah blushed too—but she was more self-possessed than Lau
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CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FOUR
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 man—lying in there—dead!" he
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CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER FIVE
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 I—in some way or other—in custody?" Ayscough laughed quietly, wagging his head. "Certainly not in custody," he answered. "And as to the other—well, 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
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CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SIX
Lauriston, walking back to his room after leaving Melky at the door of the eating-house, faced the situation in which an unfortunate combination of circumstances had placed him. Ayscough had been placable enough; the authorities at the police-station had heard his own version of things with attention—but he was still conscious that he was under a certain amount of suspicion. More than that, he felt convinced that the police would keep an eye on him that night. Ayscough, indeed, had more than hin
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CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER SEVEN
Melky Rubinstein came out of the side-passage by Multenius's shop as Lauriston neared it; he, too, had a newspaper bulging from his coat pocket, and at sight of Lauriston he pulled it out and waved it excitedly. "What'd I tell you, mister?" exclaimed Melky, as Lauriston joined him, the shadowing plain-clothes man in his rear. "D'ye see this?" He pointed to an advertisement in his own paper, which he had marked with blue pencil. "There y'are, Mr. Lauriston!—that identical old book what's inside t
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CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER EIGHT
Until he and Ayscough walked into this particular one, Lauriston had never been in a Coroner's Court in his life. He knew very little about what went on in such places. He was aware that the office of Coroner is of exceeding antiquity; that when any person meets his or her death under suspicious circumstances an enquiry into those circumstances is held by a Coroner, who has a jury of twelve men to assist him in his duties: but what Coroner and jury did, what the procedure of these courts was, he
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CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER NINE
Paying no attention to another attempted murmur of advice from Melky, who seemed to be on pins and needles, Lauriston at once jumped to his feet and strode to the witness-box. The women in the public seats glanced at him with admiring interest—such a fine-looking young fellow, whispered one sentimental lady to another, to have set about a poor old gentleman like Mr. Multenius! And everybody else, from the Coroner to the newspaper reporter—who was beginning to think he would get some good copy, a
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CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER TEN
Zillah had listened to Lauriston's answers to Mr. Parminter's searching questions with an anxiety which was obvious to those who sat near her. The signs of that anxiety were redoubled as she walked slowly to the box, and the glance she threw at the Coroner was almost appealing. But the Coroner was looking at his notes, and Zillah was obliged to turn to Mr. Parminter, whose accents became more mellifluous than ever as he addressed her; Mr. Parminter, indeed, confronting Zillah might have been tak
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CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Once outside in the street, Melky turned down the nearest side-street, motioning Lauriston to follow him. Before they had gone many yards he edged himself close to his companion's side, at the same time throwing a cautious glance over his own shoulder. "There's one o' them blooming detectives after us!" said Melky. "But that's just what's to be expected, mister!—they'll never let you out o' their sight until one of two things happen!" "What things?" asked Lauriston. "Either you'll have to prove,
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CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER TWELVE
Melky, as principal lodger in Mrs. Flitwick's establishment, occupied what that lady was accustomed to describe as the front drawing-room floor—a couple of rooms opening one into the other. Into one of these, furnished as a sitting-room, he now led Lauriston's friend, hospitably invited him to a seat, and took a quiet look at him. He at once sized up Mr. John Purdie for what he was—a well-to-do, well-dressed, active-brained young business man, probably accustomed to controlling and dealing with
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CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Purdie, whose temperament inclined him to slowness and deliberation in face of any grave crisis, motioned the detective to take a seat in the quiet corner of the smoking-room, into which they had retreated, and sat down close by him. "Now, to begin with," he said, "why do you think this affair is connected with the affair of the old pawn-broker? There must be some link." "There is a link, sir," answered Ayscough. "The man was old Daniel Multenius's next door neighbour: name of Parslett—James Par
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
As he turned down Spring Street towards Sussex Square, Purdie hastily reviewed his knowledge of Mr. Spencer Levendale and his family. He had met them, only two months previously, at a remote and out-of-the-way place in the Highlands, in a hotel where he and they were almost the only guests. Under such circumstances, strangers are soon drawn together, and as Levendale and Purdie had a common interest in fishing they were quickly on good terms. But Purdie was thinking now as he made his way toward
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CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Purdie was already sufficiently acquainted with the geography of the Paddington district to be aware of the significance of Grayson's remark. The Spring Street Post Office, at which Levendale's wire had been handed in, was only a few minutes' walk from the house. It stood, in fact, between Purdie's hotel and Sussex Square, and he had passed it on his way to Levendale's. It was certainly odd that a man who was within five minutes' walk of his own house should send a telegram there, when he had no
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CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Mr. Penniket, to whom the two cousins and Mrs. Goldmark were evidently very well known, looked a polite enquiry at the stranger as he took the chair which Melky drew forward for him. "As Mr. Purdie is presumably discussing this affair with you," he observed, "I take it that you intend him to hear anything I have to tell?" "That's so, Mr. Penniket," answered Melky. "Mr. Purdie's one of us, so to speak—you can tell us anything you like, before him. We were going into details when you come—there's
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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Zillah leaned suddenly back against the table by which she was standing, and Ayscough, who was narrowly watching the effect of his news, saw her turn very pale. She stood staring at him during a moment's silence; then she let a sharp exclamation escape her lips, and in the same instant her colour came back—heightened from surprise and indignation. "Impossible!" she said. "I can't believe it; There may be marks inside our rings—that's likely enough. But how could those marks correspond with the m
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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Lauriston, surprised beyond a little at seeing Zillah, found his surprise turned into amazement as she seized his arm and forced him along the platform, careless of the groups of passengers and the porters, crowding about the baggage vans. "What is it?" he demanded. "Has something happened? Where are we going?" But Zillah held on determinedly, her eyes fixed ahead. "Quick!" she said, pantingly. "A man I saw just now! He was there—he's gone—while I looked for you. We must find him! He must have g
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CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The effect produced by this announcement was evidently exactly that which the American expected, and he smiled, a little grimly, as he looked from one face to another. As for his hearers, they first looked at each other and then at him, and Guyler laughed and went on. "That makes you jump!" he said. "Well, now, at the end of that inquest business in the papers the other day I noticed Spencer Levendale's name mentioned in connection with some old book that was left, or found in Mr. Daniel Multeni
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CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY
At a quarter past ten o'clock on the morning following Ayscough's revelation to Zillah, the detective was closeted with a man from the Criminal Investigation Department at New Scotland Yard in a private room at the local police station, and with them was the superior official who had been fetched to the pawnshop in Praed Street immediately after the discovery of Daniel Multenius's body by Andie Lauriston. And this official was stating his view of the case to the two detectives—conscious that nei
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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
One of the three companions who stood curiously gazing at the new witness as he came into full view of the court had seen him before. Lauriston, who, during his residence in Paddington, had wandered a good deal about Maida Vale and St. John's Wood, instantly recognized Dr. Mirandolet as a man whom he had often met or passed in those excursions and about whom he had just as often wondered. He was a notable and somewhat queer figure—a tall, spare man, of striking presence and distinctive personali
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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Ayscough and the man from New Scotland Yard came out of the court at that moment in close and serious conversation: Melky Rubinstein left the other three, and hurried to the two detectives with his news; together, the six men set off for Praed Street. And Purdie, who by this time was developing as much excited interest as his temperament and business habits permitted, buttonholed the Scotland Yard man and walked alongside him. "What's your professional opinion about what we've just heard in ther
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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The old solicitor's trained eye and quick intelligence saw at once that this announcement immediately conveyed some significant meaning to his two young visitors. Purdie and Lauriston, in fact, had immediately been struck by the similarity of the names Molteno and Multenius, and they exchanged another look which their host detected and knew to convey a meaning. He leaned forward in his chair. "Now, that strikes you—both!" he said. "What's all this about? Better give me your confidence." "That's
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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
His various listeners had heard all that the old solicitor had said, with evident interest and attention—now, one of them voiced what all the rest was thinking. "What makes you think that, Mr. Killick?" asked the man from New Scotland Yard. "Why should Levendale and Purvis have been trapped?" Mr. Killick—who was obviously enjoying this return to the arena in which, as some of those present well knew, he had once played a distinguished part, as a solicitor with an extensive police-court practice—
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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Old Daniel Multenius had been quietly laid to rest that afternoon, and at the very moment in which Mr. Killick and his companions were driving away from the police station to seek Stuyvesant Guyler at his hotel, Mr. Penniket was closeted with Zillah and her cousin Melky Rubinstein in the back-parlour of the shop in Praed Street—behind closed and locked doors which they had no intention of opening to anybody. Now that the old man was dead and buried, it was necessary to know how things stood with
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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Ayscough and Melky kept silence, until they had exchanged the busy streets for the quieter by-roads which lie behind the Paddington Canal—then, as they turned up Portsdown Road, the detective tapped his companion's arm. "What do you know about these two Chinese chaps that have this furnished house of yours?" he asked. "Much?—or little?" "We don't know nothing at all, Mr. Ayscough—me and my cousin Zillah," replied Melky. "Never heard of 'em! Never knew they were there! Never knew the old man had
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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Ayscough had manifested a certain restiveness and dislike to the proceedings ever since his companion had induced him to enter the back door of Molteno Lodge—these doings appeared to him informal and irregular. But at Melky's sudden exclamation his professional instincts were aroused, and he started forward, staring through the opening in the bushes made by Melky's fingers. "Good Lord!" he said. "You're right. One of the Chinamen!" The full moon was high in a cloudless sky by that time, and its
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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Ayscough drew the sheet over the dead man's face and signed to his companion to follow him outside, to a room where Melky Rubinstein, still gravely meditating over the events of the evening, was awaiting their reappearance. "So that," said Ayscough, jerking his thumb in the direction of the mortuary, "that's Chen Li! You're certain?" "Chen Li! without a doubt!" answered the house-surgeon. "I know him well!" "The younger of the two?" suggested Ayscough. The house-surgeon shook his head. "I can't
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CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Ayscough was on his guard as soon as he saw that smile. He had had some experience of various national characteristics in his time, and he knew that when an Eastern meets you with a frank and smiling countenance you had better keep all your wits about you. He began the exercise of his own with a polite bow—while executing it, he took a rapid inventory of Mr. Mori Yada. About—as near as he could judge—two or three and twenty; a black-haired, black-eyed young gentleman; evidently fastidious about
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CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY
Melky, who had grown breathless in his efforts to carry out his companion's wishes, turned and looked at him with no attempt to conceal his wonder. "Well, s'elp me if you ain't a cool 'un, Mr. Ayscough!" he exclaimed. "Here you troubles to track a chap to this here Underground Railway, seen him pop into it like a rabbit into a hole—and let's him go! What did we follow him up Gower Street for? Just to see him set off for a ride?" "All right, my lad!" repeated Ayscough. "You don't quite understand
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CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The silence that followed on this extraordinary exclamation was suddenly broken: the mortuary keeper, who had been advancing towards a door at the side of the room, dropped a bunch of keys. The strange metallic sound of their falling roused Ayscough, who had started aside, and was staring, open-mouthed, at Mirandolet's waving hands. He caught the doctor by the arm. "What on earth do you mean?" he growled. "Speak man—what is it?" Mirandolet suddenly laughed. "What is it?" he exclaimed. "Precisely
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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Five minutes after Ayscough had gone away with Dr. Mirandolet the hotel servant who had summoned him from Purdie's sitting-room knocked at the door for the second time and put a somewhat mystified face inside. "Beg pardon, sir," he said, glancing at Purdie, who was questioning Melky Rubinstein as to the events of the evening in their relation to the house in Maida Vale. "Two ladies outside, sir—waiting to see you. But they don't want to come in, sir, unless they know who's here—don't want to mee
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CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The inner room of the police-station, at ten o'clock that morning, was full of men. Purdie, coming there with Lauriston at five minutes before the hour, found Melky Rubinstein hanging about the outer door, and had only just time to warn his companion to keep silence as to their midnight discovery before Guyler and John Purvis drove up in one cab and Mr. Killick in another. Inside, Ayscough, refreshed by his breakfast and an hour's rest, was talking to the inspector and the man from New Scotland
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CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Levendale paused at this point of his story, and looked round the circle of attentive faces. He was quick to notice that two men were watching him with particularly close attention—one was Ayscough, the other, the old solicitor. And as he resumed his account he glanced meaningly at Mr. Killick. "I daresay some of you would like to question me—and Stephen Purvis, too—on what I've already told you?" he said. "You're welcome to ask any questions you like—any of you—when I've done. But—let me finish
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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Ayscough had only time to give a warning look and a word to the others before Mr. Mori Yada was ushered in. Every eye was turned on him as he entered—some of the men present looking at him with wonder, some with curiosity, two, at any rate—Levendale and Stephen Purvis—with doubt. But Yada himself was to all outward appearance utterly indifferent to the glances thrown in his direction: it seemed to John Purdie, who was remembering all he had heard the night before, that the young Japanese medical
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CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Two hours later, it being then a quarter-to-one o'clock, Purdie and Lauriston got out of a taxi-cab at the north-end of Tottenham Court Road and walked down the right-hand side of that busy thoroughfare, keeping apparently careless but really vigilant eyes open for a first glimpse of the appointed rendezvous. But Pilmansey's Tea Rooms required little searching out. In the midst of the big modern warehouses, chiefly given up to furniture and upholstery, there stood at that time a block of old pro
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CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Not without some grumbling as to waste of time and interference with business, the Pilmansey brothers led the way to a side door which opened into a passage that ran along the side of the shop and from whence a staircase rose to the upper regions of the house. The elder pointed, significantly, to the street door at the end. "You'll take notice that these young fellows I told you of get to the rooms we let them through that?" he observed. "That door's always locked—they all have latch-keys to it.
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CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
When Melky Rubinstein slipped quietly out of the police-station, he crossed the street, and taking up a position just within a narrow alley on the other side, set himself to watch the door which he had just quitted. There was a deep design in his mind, and he meant to carry it out—alone. Mr. Mori Yada, apparently as cool and unconcerned as ever, presently tripped down the steps of the police-station and went leisurely off, swinging his neatly rolled umbrella. As long as he was within sight of th
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CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
For the better part of a fortnight the sleuth-hounds of New Scotland Yard hunted for Mr. Mori Yada in all the likely and unlikely places in London and sent out their enquiries much further afield. They failed to find him. One small clue they got, with little difficulty. After the hue-and-cry was fairly out, an Edgware Road pawnbroker came forward and informed the police that at two o'clock, or thereabouts, on the afternoon of the day on which Yada had made his escape from the window, a young Jap
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