The Seven Dials mystery
"It wasn't a bullet, Countess," he said. "It's the shell of the
cartridge. Where were you standing when you fired, Mr. Thesiger?"
Jimmy took up a position by the window.
"As nearly as I can say, about here."
Superintendent Battle placed himself in the same spot.
"That's right," he agreed. "The empty shell would throw right rear.
It's a .455. I don't wonder the Countess thought it was a bullet in
the dark. It hit the bookcase about a foot from her. The bullet itself
grazed the window frame and we'll find it outside to-morrow--unless
your assailant happens to be carrying it about in him."
Jimmy shook his head regretfully.
"Leopold, I fear, did not cover himself with glory," he remarked sadly.
The Countess was looking at him with most flattering attention.
"Your arm!" she exclaimed. "It is all tied up! Was it you then--"
Jimmy made her a mock bow.
"I'm so glad I've got a cultured English voice," he said. "And I can
assure you that I wouldn't have dreamed of using the language I did if
I had had any suspicion that a lady was present."
"I did not understand all of it," the Countess hastened to explain.
"Although I had an English governess when I was young--"
"It isn't the sort of thing she'd be likely to teach you," agreed
Jimmy. "Kept you busy with your uncle's pen, and the umbrella of the
gardener's niece. I know the sort of stuff."
"But what has happened?" asked the Countess. "That is what I want to
know. I demand to know what has happened."
There was a moment's silence whilst everybody looked at Superintendent
Battle.
"It's very simple," said Battle mildly. "Attempted robbery. Some
political papers stolen from Sir Stanley Digby. The thieves nearly
got away with them, but thanks to this young lady"--he indicated
Loraine--"they didn't."
The Countess flashed a glance at the girl--rather an odd glance.
"Indeed," she said coldly.
"A very fortunate coincidence that she happened to be there," said
Superintendent Battle, smiling.
The Countess gave a little sigh and half closed her eyes again.
"It is absurd, but I still feel extremely faint," she murmured.
"Of course you do," cried Bill. "Let me help you up to your room.
Bundle will come with you."
"It is very kind of Lady Eileen," said the Countess, "but I should
prefer to be alone. I am really quite all right. Perhaps you will just
help me up the stairs?"
She rose to her feet, accepted Bill's arm and, leaning heavily on it,
went out of the room. Bundle followed as far as the hall but, the
Countess reiterating her assurance--with some tartness--that she was
quite all right, she did not accompany them upstairs.
But as she stood watching the Countess's graceful form, supported by
Bill, slowly mounting the stairway, she stiffened suddenly to acute
attention. The Countess's négligé, as previously mentioned, was thin--a
mere veil of orange chiffon. Through it Bundle saw distinctly below the
right shoulder blade _a small black mole_.
With a gasp, Bundle swung impetuously round to where Superintendent
Battle was just emerging from the library. Jimmy and Loraine had
preceded him.
"There," said Battle. "I've fastened the window and there will be a
man on duty outside. And I'll lock this door and take the key. In the
morning we'll do what the French call reconstruct the crime--Yes, Lady
Eileen, what is it?"
"Superintendent Battle, I must speak to you--at once."
"Why, certainly, I--"
George Lomax suddenly appeared, Dr. Cartwright by his side.
"Ah, there you are, Battle. You'll be relieved to hear that there's
nothing seriously wrong with O'Rourke."
"I never thought there would be much wrong with Mr. O'Rourke," said
Battle.
"He's had a strong hypnotic administered to him," said the doctor.
"He'll wake perfectly all right in the morning. Perhaps a bit of a
head, perhaps not. Now then, young man, let's look at this bullet wound
of yours."
"Come on, nurse," said Jimmy to Loraine. "Come and hold the basin or my
hand. Witness a strong man's agony. You know the stunt."
Jimmy, Loraine and the doctor went off together. Bundle continued to
throw agonized glances in the direction of Superintendent Battle, who
had been buttonholed by George.
The Superintendent waited patiently till a pause occurred in George's
loquacity. He then swiftly took advantage of it.
"I wonder, sir, if I might have a word privately with Sir Stanley? In
the little study at the end there."
"Certainly," said George. "Certainly. I'll go and fetch him at once."
He hurried off upstairs again. Battle drew Bundle swiftly into the
drawing-room and shut the door.
"Now, Lady Eileen, what is it?"
"I'll tell you as quickly as I can--but it's rather long and
complicated."
As concisely as she could, Bundle related her introduction to the Seven
Dials Club and her subsequent adventures there. When she had finished,
Superintendent Battle drew a long breath. For once, his facial
woodenness was laid aside.
"Remarkable," he said. "Remarkable. I wouldn't have believed it
possible--even for you, Lady Eileen. I ought to have known better."
"But you did give me a hint, Superintendent Battle. You told me to ask
Bill Eversleigh."
"It's dangerous to give people like you a hint, Lady Eileen. I never
dreamt of your going to the lengths you have."
"Well, it's all right, Superintendent Battle. My death doesn't lie at
your door."
"Not yet, it doesn't," said Battle grimly.
He stood as though in thought, turning things over in his mind.
"What Mr. Thesiger was about, letting you run into danger like that, I
can't think," he said presently.
"He didn't know till afterwards," said Bundle. "I'm not a complete mug,
Superintendent Battle. And anyway, he's got his hands full looking
after Miss Wade."
"Is that so?" said the Superintendent. "Ah!"
He twinkled a little.
"I shall have to detail Mr. Eversleigh to look after you, Lady Eileen."
"Bill!" said Bundle contemptuously. "But Superintendent Battle, you
haven't heard the end of my story. The woman I saw there--Anna--No. 1.
Yes, No. 1 is the Countess Radzky."
And rapidly she went on to describe her recognition of the mole.
To her surprise the Superintendent hemmed and hawed.
"A mole isn't much to go upon, Lady Eileen. Two women might have an
identical mole very easily. You must remember that the Countess Radzky
is a very well-known figure in Hungary."
"Then this isn't the real Countess Radzky. I tell you I'm sure this is
the same woman I saw there. And look at her to-night--the way we found
her. I don't believe she ever fainted at all."
"Oh, I shouldn't say that, Lady Eileen. That empty shell striking the
bookcase beside her might have frightened any woman half out of her
wits."
"But what was she doing there anyway? One doesn't come down to look for
a book with an electric torch."
Battle scratched his cheek. He seemed unwilling to speak. He began to
pace up and down the room, as though making up his mind. At last he
turned to the girl.
"See here, Lady Eileen, I'm going to trust you. The Countess's
conduct _is_ suspicious. I know that as well as you do. It's very
suspicious--but we've got to go carefully. There mustn't be any
unpleasantness with the Embassies. One has got to be _sure_."
"I see. If you were _sure_...."
"There's something else. During the war, Lady Eileen, there was a great
outcry about German spies being left at large. Busybodies wrote letters
to the papers about it. We paid no attention. Hard words didn't hurt
us. The small fry were left alone. Why? Because through them, sooner or
later, _we got the big fellow--the man at the top_."
"You mean?"
"Don't bother about what I mean, Lady Eileen. But remember this. _I
know all about the Countess._ And I want her let alone.
"And now," added Superintendent Battle ruefully, "I've got to think of
something to say to Sir Stanley Digby!"
CHAPTER XXIII
SUPERINTENDENT BATTLE IN CHARGE
It was ten o'clock on the following morning. The sun poured in through
the windows of the library, where Superintendent Battle had been at
work since six. On a summons from him, George Lomax, Sir Oswald Coote
and Jimmy Thesiger had just joined him, having repaired the fatigues of
the night with a substantial breakfast. Jimmy's arm was in a sling, but
he bore little other trace of the night's affray.
The Superintendent eyed all three of them benevolently, somewhat with
the air of a kindly curator explaining a museum to little boys. On the
table beside him were various objects, neatly labelled. Amongst them
Jimmy recognized Leopold.
"Ah, Superintendent," said George, "I have been anxious to know how you
have progressed. Have you caught the man?"
"He'll take a lot of catching, he will," said the Superintendent easily.
His failure in that respect did not appear to rankle with him.
George Lomax did not look particularly well pleased. He detested levity
of any kind.
"I've got everything taped out pretty clearly," went on the detective.
He took up two objects from the table.
"Here we've got the two bullets. The largest is a .455, fired from
Mr. Thesiger's Colt automatic. Grazed the window sash and I found it
embedded in the trunk of that cedar tree. This little fellow was fired
from the Mauser .25. After passing through Mr. Thesiger's arm, it
embedded itself in this arm-chair here. As for the pistol itself--"
"Well?" said Sir Oswald eagerly. "Any fingerprints?"
Battle shook his head.
"The man who handled it wore gloves," he said slowly.
"A pity," said Sir Oswald.
"A man who knew his business would wear gloves. Am I right in thinking,
Sir Oswald, that you found this pistol just about twenty yards from the
bottom of the steps leading up to the terrace?"
Sir Oswald stepped to the window.
"Yes, almost exactly, I should say."
"I don't want to find fault, but it would have been wiser on your part,
sir, to leave it exactly as you found it."
"I am sorry," said Sir Oswald stiffly.
"Oh, it doesn't matter. I've been able to reconstruct things. There
were your footprints, you see, leading up from the bottom of the
garden, and a place where you had obviously stopped and stooped down,
and a kind of dent in the grass which was highly suggestive. By the
way, what was your theory of the pistol being there?"
"I presumed that it had been dropped by the man in his flight."
Battle shook his head.
"Not dropped, Sir Oswald. There are two points against that. To begin
with, there is only one set of footprints crossing the lawn just
there--your own."
"I see," said Sir Oswald thoughtfully.
"Can you be sure of that, Battle?" put in George.
"Quite sure, sir. There is one other set of tracks crossing the lawn,
Miss Wade's, but they are a good deal farther to the left."
He paused, and then went on: "And there's the dent in the ground. The
pistol must have struck the ground with some force. It all points to
its having been thrown."
"Well, why not?" said Sir Oswald. "Say the man fled down the path to
the left. He'd leave no footprints on the path and he'd hurl the
pistol away from him into the middle of the lawn, eh, Lomax?"
George agreed by a nod of the head.
"It's true that he'd leave no footprints on the path," said Battle,
"but from the shape of the dent and the way the turf was cut, I don't
think the pistol was thrown from that direction. I think it was thrown
from the terrace here."
"Very likely," said Sir Oswald. "Does it matter, Superintendent?"
"Ah, yes, Battle," broke in George. "Is it--er--strictly relevant?"
"Perhaps not, Mr. Lomax. But we like to get things just so, you know. I
wonder now if one of you gentlemen would take this pistol and throw it.