The Grand Babylon Hôtel
‘To you, sir,’ answered Racksole, ‘the inclusive terms will be exactly
half a crown a week. Do you accept?’
‘I accept,’ said Babylon, and added, ‘You are very good, Mr Racksole.’
They strolled together back to the hotel, saying nothing in particular,
but feeling very content with each other’s company.
‘Many customers?’ asked Felix Babylon.
‘Very tolerable,’ said Racksole, assuming as much of the air of the
professional hotel proprietor as he could. ‘I think I may say in the
storekeeper’s phrase, that if there is any business about I am doing it.
To-night the people are all on the terrace in the portico--it’s so
confoundedly hot--and the consumption of ice is simply enormous--nearly
as large as it would be in New York.’
‘In that case,’ said Babylon politely, ‘let me offer you another cigar.’
‘But I have not finished this one.’
‘That is just why I wish to offer you another one. A cigar such as
yours, my good friend, ought never to be smoked within the precincts of
the Grand Babylon, not even by the proprietor of the Grand Babylon, and
especially when all the guests are assembled in the portico. The fumes
of it would ruin any hotel.’
Theodore Racksole laughingly lighted the Rothschild Havana which Babylon
gave him, and they entered the hotel arm in arm. But no sooner had they
mounted the steps than little Felix became the object of numberless
greetings. It appeared that he had been highly popular among his quondam
guests. At last they reached the managerial room, where Babylon was
regaled on a chicken, and Racksole assisted him in the consumption of a
bottle of Heidsieck Monopole, Carte d’Or.
‘This chicken is almost perfectly grilled,’ said Babylon at length. ‘It
is a credit to the house. But why, my dear Racksole, why in the name of
Heaven did you quarrel with Rocco?’
‘Then you have heard?’
‘Heard! My dear friend, it was in every newspaper on the Continent. Some
journals prophesied that the Grand Babylon would have to close its doors
within half a year now that Rocco had deserted it. But of course I knew
better. I knew that you must have a good reason for allowing Rocco to
depart, and that you must have made arrangements in advance for a
substitute.’
‘As a matter of fact, I had not made arrangements in advance,’ said
Theodore Racksole, a little ruefully; ‘but happily we have found in our
second sous-chef an artist inferior only to Rocco himself. That,
however, was mere good fortune.’
‘Surely,’ said Babylon, ‘it was indiscreet to trust to mere good fortune
in such a serious matter?’
‘I didn’t trust to mere good fortune. I didn’t trust to anything except
Rocco, and he deceived me.’
‘But why did you quarrel with him?’
‘I didn’t quarrel with him. I found him embalming a corpse in the State
bedroom one night--’
‘You what?’ Babylon almost screamed.
‘I found him embalming a corpse in the State bedroom,’ repeated Racksole
in his quietest tones.
The two men gazed at each other, and then Racksole replenished Babylon’s
glass.
‘Tell me,’ said Babylon, settling himself deep in an easy chair and
lighting a cigar.
And Racksole thereupon recounted to him the whole of the Posen episode,
with every circumstantial detail so far as he knew it. It was a long and
complicated recital, and occupied about an hour. During that time little
Felix never spoke a word, scarcely moved a muscle; only his small eyes
gazed through the bluish haze of smoke. The clock on the mantelpiece
tinkled midnight.
‘Time for whisky and soda,’ said Racksole, and got up as if to ring the
bell; but Babylon waved him back.
‘You have told me that this Sampson Levi had an audience of Prince Eugen
to-day, but you have not told me the result of that audience,’ said
Babylon.
‘Because I do not yet know it. But I shall doubtless know to-morrow. In
the meantime, I feel fairly sure that Levi declined to produce Prince
Eugen’s required million. I have reason to believe that the money was
lent elsewhere.’
‘H’m!’ mused Babylon; and then, carelessly, ‘I am not at all surprised
at that arrangement for spying through the bathroom of the State
apartments.’
‘Why are you not surprised?’
‘Oh!’ said Babylon, ‘it is such an obvious dodge--so easy to carry out.
As for me, I took special care never to involve myself in these affairs.
I knew they existed; I somehow felt that they existed. But I also felt
that they lay outside my sphere. My business was to provide board and
lodging of the most sumptuous kind to those who didn’t mind paying for
it; and I did my business. If anything else went on in the hotel, under
the rose, I long determined to ignore it unless it should happen to be
brought before my notice; and it never was brought before my notice.
However, I admit that there is a certain pleasurable excitement in this
kind of affair and doubtless you have experienced that.’
‘I have,’ said Racksole simply, ‘though I believe you are laughing at
me.’
‘By no means,’ Babylon replied. ‘Now what, if I may ask the question, is
going to be your next step?’
‘That is just what I desire to know myself,’ said Theodore Racksole.
‘Well,’ said Babylon, after a pause, ‘let us begin. In the first place,
it is possible you may be interested to hear that I happened to see
Jules to-day.’
‘You did!’ Racksole remarked with much calmness. ‘Where?’
‘Well, it was early this morning, in Paris, just before I left there.
The meeting was quite accidental, and Jules seemed rather surprised at
meeting me. He respectfully inquired where I was going, and I said that
I was going to Switzerland. At that moment I thought I was going to
Switzerland. It had occurred to me that after all I should be happier
there, and that I had better turn back and not see London any more.
However, I changed my mind once again, and decided to come on to London,
and accept the risks of being miserable there without my hotel. Then I
asked Jules whither he was bound, and he told me that he was off to
Constantinople, being interested in a new French hotel there. I wished
him good luck, and we parted.’
‘Constantinople, eh!’ said Racksole. ‘A highly suitable place for him, I
should say.’
‘But,’ Babylon resumed, ‘I caught sight of him again.’
‘Where?’
‘At Charing Cross, a few minutes before I had the pleasure of meeting
you.
Mr Jules had not gone to Constantinople after all. He did not see me, or
I should have suggested to him that in going from Paris to
Constantinople it is not usual to travel via London.’
‘The cheek of the fellow!’ exclaimed Theodore Racksole. ‘The gorgeous
and colossal cheek of the fellow!’
Chapter Twenty-Two IN THE WINE CELLARS OF THE GRAND BABYLON
‘DO you know anything of the antecedents of this Jules,’ asked Theodore
Racksole, helping himself to whisky.
‘Nothing whatever,’ said Babylon. ‘Until you told me, I don’t think I
was aware that his true name was Thomas Jackson, though of course I knew
that it was not Jules. I certainly was not aware that Miss Spencer was
his wife, but I had long suspected that their relations were somewhat
more intimate than the nature of their respective duties in the hotel
absolutely demanded. All that I do know of Jules--he will always be
called Jules--is that he gradually, by some mysterious personal force,
acquired a prominent position in the hotel. Decidedly he was the
cleverest and most intellectual waiter I have ever known, and he was
specially skilled in the difficult task of retaining his own dignity
while not interfering with that of other people.
I’m afraid this information is a little too vague to be of any practical
assistance in the present difficulty.’
‘What is the present difficulty?’ Racksole queried, with a simple air.
‘I should imagine that the present difficulty is to account for the
man’s presence in London.’
‘That is easily accounted for,’ said Racksole.
‘How? Do you suppose he is anxious to give himself up to justice, or
that the chains of habit bind him to the hotel?’
‘Neither,’ said Racksole. ‘Jules is going to have another try--that’s
all.’
‘Another try at what?’
‘At Prince Eugen. Either at his life or his liberty. Most probably the
former this time; almost certainly the former. He has guessed that we
are somewhat handicapped by our anxiety to keep Prince Eugen’s
predicament quite quiet, and he is taking advantage, of that fact. As he
already is fairly rich, on his own admission, the reward which has been
offered to him must be enormous, and he is absolutely determined to get
it. He has several times recently proved himself to be a daring fellow;
unless I am mistaken he will shortly prove himself to be still more
daring.’
‘But what can he do? Surely you don’t suggest that he will attempt the
life of Prince Eugen in this hotel?’
‘Why not? If Reginald Dimmock fell on mere suspicion that he would turn
out unfaithful to the conspiracy, why not Prince Eugen?’
‘But it would be an unspeakable crime, and do infinite harm to the
hotel!’
‘True!’ Racksole admitted, smiling. Little Felix Babylon seemed to brace
himself for the grasping of his monstrous idea.
‘How could it possibly be done?’ he asked at length.
‘Dimmock was poisoned.’
‘Yes, but you had Rocco here then, and Rocco was in the plot. It is
conceivable that Rocco could have managed it--barely conceivable. But
without Rocco I cannot think it possible. I cannot even think that Jules
would attempt it. You see, in a place like the Grand Babylon, as
probably I needn’t point out to you, food has to pass through so many
hands that to poison one person without killing perhaps fifty would be a
most delicate operation. Moreover, Prince Eugen, unless he has changed
his habits, is always served by his own attendant, old Hans, and
therefore any attempt to tamper with a cooked dish immediately before
serving would be hazardous in the extreme.’
‘Granted,’ said Racksole. ‘The wine, however, might be more easily got
at.
Had you thought of that?’
‘I had not,’ Babylon admitted. ‘You are an ingenious theorist, but I
happen to know that Prince Eugen always has his wine opened in his own
presence. No doubt it would be opened by Hans. Therefore the wine theory
is not tenable, my friend.’
‘I do not see why,’ said Racksole. ‘I know nothing of wine as an expert,
and I very seldom drink it, but it seems to me that a bottle of wine
might be tampered with while it was still in the cellar, especially if
there was an accomplice in the hotel.’
‘You think, then, that you are not yet rid of all your conspirators?’
‘I think that Jules might still have an accomplice within the building.’
‘And that a bottle of wine could be opened and recorked without leaving
any trace of the operation?’ Babylon was a trifle sarcastic.
‘I don’t see the necessity of opening the bottle in order to poison the
wine,’ said Racksole. ‘I have never tried to poison anybody by means of
a bottle of wine, and I don’t lay claim to any natural talent as a
poisoner, but I think I could devise several ways of managing the trick.
Of course, I admit I may be entirely mistaken as to Jules’ intentions.’
‘Ah!’ said Felix Babylon. ‘The wine cellars beneath us are one of the
wonders of London. I hope you are aware, Mr Racksole, that when you
bought the Grand Babylon you bought what is probably the finest stock of
wines in England, if not in Europe. In the valuation I reckoned them at
sixty thousand pounds. And I may say that I always took care that the
cellars were properly guarded. Even Jules would experience a serious
difficulty in breaking into the cellars without the connivance of the
wine-clerk, and the wine-clerk is, or was, incorruptible.’
‘I am ashamed to say that I have not yet inspected my wines,’ smiled
Racksole; ‘I have never given them a thought. Once or twice I have taken