The Grand Babylon Hotel by Arnold Bennett (good story books to read txt) 📕

“The body of the deceased has disappeared. And his Serene Highness Prince Aribert informs me that though he has occupied a room immediately opposite, on the other side of the corridor, he can throw no light on the affair.”

“Indeed, I cannot!” said the Prince, and though he spoke with sufficient calmness and dignity, you could see that he was deeply pained, even distressed.

“Well, I’m⁠—” murmured Racksole, and stopped.

VII Nella and the Prince

It appeared impossible to Theodore Racksole that so cumbrous an article as a corpse could be removed out of his hotel, with no trace, no hint, no clue as to the time or the manner of the performance of the deed. After the first feeling of surprise, Racksole grew coldly and severely angry. He had a mind to dismiss the entire staff of the hotel. He personally examined the night-watchman, the chambermaids and all other persons who by chance might or ought to know something of the affair; but without avail. The corpse of Reginald Dimmock had vanished utterly⁠—disappeared like a fleshless spirit.

Of course there were the police. But Theodore Racksole held the police in sorry esteem. He acquainted them with the facts, answered their queries with a patient weariness, and expected nothing whatever from that quarter. He also had several interviews with Prince Aribert of Posen, but though the Prince was suavity itself and beyond doubt genuinely concerned about the fate of his dead attendant, yet it seemed to Racksole that he was keeping something back, that he hesitated to say all he knew. Racksole, with characteristic insight, decided that the death of Reginald Dimmock was only a minor event, which had occurred, as it were, on the fringe of some far more profound mystery. And, therefore, he decided to wait, with his eyes very wide open, until something else happened that would throw light on the business. At the moment he took only one measure⁠—he arranged that the theft of Dimmock’s body should not appear in the newspapers. It is astonishing how well a secret can be kept, when the possessors of the secret are handled with the proper mixture of firmness and persuasion. Racksole managed this very neatly. It was a complicated job, and his success in it rather pleased him.

At the same time he was conscious of being temporarily worsted by an unknown group of schemers, in which he felt convinced that Jules was an important item. He could scarcely look Nella in the eyes. The girl had evidently expected him to unmask this conspiracy at once, with a single stroke of the millionaire’s magic wand. She was thoroughly accustomed, in the land of her birth, to seeing him achieve impossible feats. Over there he was a “boss”; men trembled before his name; when he wished a thing to happen⁠—well, it happened; if he desired to know a thing, he just knew it. But here, in London, Theodore Racksole was not quite the same Theodore Racksole. He dominated New York; but London, for the most part, seemed not to take much interest in him; and there were certainly various persons in London who were capable of snapping their fingers at him⁠—at Theodore Racksole. Neither he nor his daughter could get used to that fact.

As for Nella, she concerned herself for a little with the ordinary business of the bureau, and watched the incomings and outgoings of Prince Aribert with a kindly interest. She perceived, what her father had failed to perceive, that His Highness had assumed an attitude of reserve merely to hide the secret distraction and dismay which consumed him. She saw that the poor fellow had no settled plan in his head, and that he was troubled by something which, so far, he had confided to nobody. It came to her knowledge that each morning he walked to and fro on the Victoria Embankment, alone, and apparently with no object. On the third morning she decided that driving exercise on the Embankment would be good for her health, and thereupon ordered a carriage and issued forth, arrayed in a miraculous putty-coloured gown. Near Blackfriars Bridge she met the Prince, and the carriage was drawn up by the pavement.

“Good morning, Prince,” she greeted him. “Are you mistaking this for Hyde Park?”

He bowed and smiled.

“I usually walk here in the mornings,” he said.

“You surprise me,” she returned. “I thought I was the only person in London who preferred the Embankment, with this view of the river, to the dustiness of Hyde Park. I can’t imagine how it is that London will never take exercise anywhere except in that ridiculous Park. Now, if they had Central Park⁠—”

“I think the Embankment is the finest spot in all London,” he said.

She leaned a little out of the landau, bringing her face nearer to his.

“I do believe we are kindred spirits, you and I,” she murmured; and then, “Au revoir, Prince!”

“One moment, Miss Racksole.” His quick tones had a note of entreaty.

“I am in a hurry,” she fibbed; “I am not merely taking exercise this morning. You have no idea how busy we are.”

“Ah! then I will not trouble you. But I leave the Grand Babylon tonight.”

“Do you?” she said. “Then will your Highness do me the honour of lunching with me today in Father’s room? Father will be out⁠—he is having a day in the City with some stockbroking persons.”

“I shall be charmed,” said the Prince, and his face showed that he meant it.

Nella drove off.

If the lunch was a success that result was due partly to Rocco, and partly to Nella. The Prince said little beyond what the ordinary rules of the conversational game demanded. His hostess talked much and talked well, but she failed to rouse her guest. When they had had coffee he took a rather formal leave of her.

“Goodbye, Prince,” she said, “but I thought⁠—that is, no I didn’t. Goodbye.”

“You thought I wished to discuss something with you. I did; but I have decided that I have no