The Charing Cross Mystery by J. S. Fletcher (book series for 10 year olds TXT) 📕

for setting out, but before he had buttoned it a constable entered with a card.

“Wants to see you particularly, and at once,” he said. “Waiting outside.”

“Bring him in⁠—straight!” answered Matherfield. He pushed the card along his desk in Hetherwick’s direction. “Lord Morradale!” he exclaimed. “Who’s he?”

“The man who’s engaged to Madame Listorelle,” replied Hetherwick, in an undertone. “Hampshire magnate.”

Matherfield turned expectantly to the open door. A shortish, stoutish person, who looked more like a typical City man, prosperous and satisfied, came hustling in and gave Hetherwick and his companion a sharp, inquiring glance which finally settled on Matherfield.

“Mr. Matherfield?” he asked. “Just so! I’m Lord Morradale⁠—oh, of course, I sent in my card⁠—just so! Well, Mr. Matherfield, I’ve had an extraordinary communication from Lady Riversreade. She telephoned to my house in Hill Street this morning, but I was down in the City, and didn’t hear of her message till late this afternoon. She says her sister, Madame Listorelle, has been kidnapped! Kidnapped⁠—preposterous!”

“I’m afraid it’s neither preposterous nor improbable, my lord,” answered Matherfield. “I’m quite sure Madame Listorelle has been kidnapped, and Lady Riversreade’s secretary, Miss Featherstone, with her. I’ve been down at Riversreade Court most of the day, and there’s no doubt about it⁠—the two ladies were carried off from there by three men in a fast car, which was driven towards London. That’s a fact!”

“God bless my soul!” exclaimed Lord Morradale. “In broad daylight! Twentieth century, too! And is there no clue?”

“None so far, my lord. Of course, we’ve noised the affair as much as possible, and all our people are on the look out. But it’s a difficult case,” continued Matherfield. “The probability is that the ladies have been rushed to some house in London and that they’re there in captivity. Of course, one theory is that the kidnappers took Madame Listorelle for her sister. They meant to get Lady Riversreade and hold her to ransom.”

Lord Morradale pursed his lips. Then he rubbed his chin. Then he shook his head. Finally he gave Hetherwick a shrewd glance, eyeing him from head to foot.

“Um!” he said. “Ah! This gentleman? Not one of your people, I think, Matherfield?”

“No, my lord. This gentleman is Mr. Hetherwick, of the Middle Temple, who is interested very deeply in certain matters connected with the affair. Mr. Hetherwick has been down to Riversreade with me, and your lordship can speak freely before him.”

Lord Morradale gave Hetherwick a friendly, knowing nod. Then he glanced at the door, and Matherfield made haste to close it.

“Thank ’ee,” said Lord Morradale. “Just as well to be in private. Um!⁠—I think I’d better tell you something, Matherfield. I dare say that’s a reasonable supposition of yours⁠—that these villains took Madame Listorelle for her sister. But I don’t think they did. I think they knew very well whom they were seizing. Mind you⁠—they’d have seized Lady Riversreade too if she’d happened to be there. But it was madame they were after!”

“If your lordship would explain⁠—” suggested Matherfield.

“I’m going to⁠—it’s what I come here for! I think I can just put you on the right scent. You may have heard that Madame Listorelle and I are about to marry? Very well, I accordingly knew a good deal about her affairs. Now, I don’t know whether you know or not that Madame Listorelle is actively concerned⁠—or has been⁠—in buying and selling jewels on commission? That’s her speciality.”

“Heard something of it, my lord,” replied Matherfield.

“Very well. Now, quite recently Madame Listorelle bought up in Paris a magnificent set of stones which had been at one time the property of a member of the Russian Imperial family. She brought them here to London, meaning, shortly, either to send or take them personally to America to her customer. This deal, unfortunately, got into the papers. Now, it’s my belief that these fellows have kidnapped madame in order to get hold of these jewels. Do you see?”

“Ah!” exclaimed Matherfield. “I see, my lord! That puts a new aspect on the case. But⁠—surely Madame Listorelle wouldn’t have the stones on her?”

Lord Morradale winked⁠—deliberately⁠—at both his hearers.

“No!” he said. “No⁠—she wouldn’t. But the scoundrels would figure on this⁠—that when she was fairly in their power they would be in a position to make her give them up⁠—to force her, in short, to disclose their whereabouts. If they’re desperate villains, not likely to stick at anything, I think they’ll have forced madame to compliance⁠—and in doing so give you a chance to lay hands on them!”

“How, my lord?” asked Matherfield eagerly.

Lord Morradale gave the two men a confidential glance.

“This way,” he replied. “The jewels were deposited, for safety, by Madame Listorelle at the Imperial Safe Deposit. She rents a safe there. Now, don’t you see what I’m suggesting? These men may force her to give them the necessary key and a signed order to the safe people to let the bearer open madame’s safe and take away a certain case in which the jewels are packed. That’s what I think will be done. And what you ought to do is to see the Imperial Safe Deposit officials at once, warn them of what I suggest may happen, and take your own means of watching for such a messenger arriving, and for tracking him when he departs. Eh?”

“Or arresting him there and then,” said Matherfield.

“No, I shouldn’t!” declared Lord Morradale. “I’m not a policeman, you know, but I can give a hint to one. Instead of arresting the man⁠—who, you must remember, will be sure to have madame’s written authority on him⁠—that is if things turn out as I suggest⁠—I should carefully follow him. For⁠—he’ll probably go back to where madame and the young lady, Miss What’s-her-name, are detained! Eh?”

Matherfield shook his head.

“I should doubt that, my lord!” he answered. “If things work out as you suggest⁠—and it’s a highly probable theory⁠—that’s about the last thing he would do! Once the jewels were in his possession⁠—”

“You forget this,” interrupted Lord Morradale. “They may use a catspaw! Eh?”

“Well, there’s that in it, certainly,” assented Matherfield. “However,