“I am disappoint!” suddenly exclaimed Jenny, hammering her fists on her knees. “I think this is a miracle. I think it cannot be solved. And then you show it is easy as eating sweets. Sir H.M., I hate you!”
The subsequent behavior of Sir Henry Merrivale, his martyrdom and his passionate addresses to the ceiling, is best left undescribed.
“So that’s all the thanks I get, hey? They come to me and say, ‘It’s a miracle.’ I say, ‘It ain’t,’ and show ’em how it’s done. Then they say, ‘Oh, is that all? Silly old dummy! Stick him in the dustbin again.’ ”
It was fully half an hour before they smoothed him down.
“Very well!” he said, with a dark look at Jenny. “I’ll not state what I think of some people. I’ll just tell you what happened next and upset the whole apple cart. Aunt Hester had to drag a very sick and scared gal all the way to St. Paul’s, so that Armand’s hired ventriloquist could perform on time.
“But the apple cart was upset with an awful smash. ‘Steve Lamoreux,’ sittin’ in the car just as he said he did, saw you run down the steps of St. Paul’s and literally fall into this young feller’s arms. When you went into the tea shop — well, Bob’s your uncle. You bet he sneaked in and listened behind the partition. What he heard was just what he’d feared. You two were practically failin’ into each others’ arms over the tea.”
“I feel like this,” Jenny confessed.
“I still feel like it,” said Tom.
“Shut up,” said the great man. “There were several courses open to ‘Steve Lamoreux.’ He chose the best, which was winnin’ Tom Lockwood’s confidence and stayin’ close to him. So he deliberately sent this gal to me, supremely and conceitedly thinkin’ the old goop would never see through his scheme.
“After Aunt Hester’s row in the tea shop,” here H.M. looked at Tom, “he went in and told his story. He more than won your confidence, son. He won your friendship.”
“Yes,” admitted Tom, and looked down at a closed fist. “He did.”
“Of course, he couldn’t go with you when you came to my office. He admitted the gal mustn’t meet him. What he did is easy to guess. He followed you, and hung about in Horse Guards Avenue. D’ye know, I think I can see his face when we three piled downstairs and out to a police car, and I gave the address of his own hired ventriloquist.
“He got to the house about fifty seconds before we did, probably by waving a fiver in under a taxi-driver’s nose. He nipped in by the back door, struck faster than a snake, and nipped out the same way while Johnson’s body rolled down the front steps.
“And that tore it. As I said, the whole aspect of the business had changed.
“According to what I could deduce about the gas fire and the whispering gallery, nobody was actually trying to kill this gal. Somebody was trying to frighten her so much that she’d take the first plane back to Paris.
“Now who would be interested in doin’ that, in conjunction with Aunt Hester? Who? You guess. And what about this odd ‘American’ or ‘Canadian’ who kept turning up all over the place without any explanation? Everybody promised to explain him; but nobody did.”
H.M. pulled down his spectacles and glowered at Jenny over them.
“You see, my dolly, why I wanted you to go back to your aunt’s house that night? You weren’t in any real danger. And it wasn’t likely somebody would try any games that night. If anything happened at all, it would happen during the expedition to Hampton Court next day — for one thing, Aunt Hester was far too insistent about takin’ you there.
“And I could be there to stop it. And yet, burn me, I nearly missed it!”
The somber spectacles were now turned towards Tom.
“Son,” observed H.M., “did you see the look on ‘Steve Lamoreux’s’ face when you shouted along the path and asked this gal to marry you? And she said yes?”
“No, but I heard his voice. It was a voice I’d never heard him use before.”
“Well! When it turned out you had tons of money and they couldn’t accuse you of being a fortune hunter, did you notice him at any time after that?”
“Yes! His face was all pinched up and as pale as dough. But I thought—”
“Maybe you did. He had a knife with him, just in case. And that was the time he finally decided you were goin’ to die.”
Jenny pressed her face in her hands, and turned away.
“Oh, I was the villain!” said H.M. “In my role of guide, I wanted to see how Aunt Hester would act when she met Steve Lamoreux face to face. She behaved pretty well, but she couldn’t keep her eyes from slidin’ away when she mentioned the gal’s fiancé.
“It was a silly-ass thing to do. I admit it. ’Cause I’d already made up my mind. That same day, since Armand de Senneville had been attached to the Yanks, I got his record and saw his photograph. To put the tin hat on it, ‘Steve Lamoreux’ had the stargazin’ cheek to walk into my office and spin his yarn.
“Even if I hadn’t known already, the idiot gave himself away. He would smoke Yellow French cigarettes, and use sulphur matches. Even when he was very excited, he automatically held the match away from him until the sulphur had burned off—”
“Yes,” interrupted Tom. “I saw him do that. But what about it?”
“Oh, son! He claimed he’d been in France only six months—”
“Yes, that’s what he told me too!”
“And no foreigner on earth, after only six months in France, can get used to those sulphur matches. You always forget and swallow a lungful of sulphur. Only a Frenchman native-born automatically holds the match away for a few seconds. There, in my own office, was a Frenchman speakin’ the most exquisite Yank.
“But you were the one in real danger, son. If I’d known beforehand you’d spent the night before prowlin’ round this gal’s windows with Armand de Senneville, I’d have had a fit. I repeat: he struck like a snake and killed poor old Johnson. Why? Just because he didn’t want this gal to find out that it was he who was scaring her, or he’d lose her.
“Finally, last night at Hampton Court, I still don’t know what funny business de Senneville, or Aunt Hester, or both of ’em, had planned. There wasn’t time — the fireworks went up with a bang. I tried to keep you from goin’ into that maze. Didn’t you see me look round? Didn’t you notice Lamoreux had slipped away? You dashed into the maze. He must have crawled up on top of it — we didn’t see him enter — and followed you. But sometimes, for chivalrous young fools like you, there is mercy. You met the tough egg with his knife, and you knocked him flat. And that was the end.”
There was a long silence, until Tom cleared his throat.
“H.M. What will they do to him?”
“Oh, they can’t prove yet he killed Johnson. Not yet. In the meantime, he’ll do a long stretch on two counts of attempted murder: with gas and with a knife. Then the coppers will snaffle him for killing Johnson. And he’ll get what he deserves, son — he’ll hang.”
Jenny stood up suddenly, trembling. Tom put his arms around her, and held her tightly.
“It’s all right!” he insisted. “Jenny, dear, it’s all right!”
“Yes,” said Jenny, holding him just as tightly, “but that is why you must not leave me, ever. It is all right — now!”
For once in his life, Sir Henry Merrivale did not roar out about canoodling in his office. Slowly, somberly, he got up from his chair and wandered over to one of the windows. There, his hands folded behind his back, he stood looking out over the river and the mighty curve of London.
