Munsey's/Royal Amethyst/Chapter 20
XX
We were all, I think, a little surprised to find that Mr. Harland's personal appearance was by no means indicative of genius. He was not tall, or intense of expression, or in any way suggestive of that air of romance and mystery which is supposed to hang about the professional sleuth. He was a short and rather stout person, chubby and ruddy of countenance, and he affected mutton-chop whiskers, easy-fitting clothes of a yellowish tint, and large boots with strong nails in the soles. He would have passed anywhere as a highly respectable Englishman, who might have been a grocer, a lawyer, or a peer with a taste for breeding shorthorns.
Mr. Harland, after the necessary preliminaries, requested a cup of tea and the fullest particulars of the case. It fell to my lot to tell him all that had befallen us since we left London, and it took some time to reel off the story, especially as I was becoming weary of repeating it.
The detective was a fine listener. He faced me and his tea tray with steady attention, and whenever he lifted his cup to his lips he still kept his eyes on mine. He made no notes and asked no questions, but you felt that every word was being labeled and wrapped up and stored in special corners of his brain, whence he would produce it exactly as it was wanted.
He observed a strict silence until I had finished. When I had said my last word, he nodded three times.
“Much obliged to you, sir,” he said, “for your very lucid statement. Well, gentlemen, there does not appear to be much to go on, but if you'll permit me I'll go on it after my own fashion. I shall not come to any one for orders or suggestions, and if I ask for information or advice I shall please myself as to whether I act on it or not. It's quite evident that the foreign gentleman upstairs suspects Mr. Hanmer, while some of you believe Count Hofberg to be at the bottom of all this. Well, I don't suspect anybody at present. What I wish just now is to clear the ground. All I want is permission to go here and there about your house and estate, Sir Desmond Adare, to talk to your servants, and to conduct the business as I think fit. I think that's all just now.”
Mr. Harland was about to leave us when the solicitor who had acted for the Prince of Amavia stopped him.
“There is just one matter,” he said. “Sir Desmond, his highness the prince wishes to ask if you will join him in offering a reward. The prince, deeply concerned over the amethyst, will give one thousand pounds to any one giving information which will result in its recovery. Will you make a similar offer?”
Sir Desmond looked inquiringly at Inspector Harland.
“It will do no harm,” said the detective, anticipating the question. “I don't think it will do any good, either.”
“Mr. Harland,” asked Sir Desmond, “have you formed any theory as to who has committed this robbery?”
The inspector shook his head.
“Quite too soon, Sir Desmond,” he said. “Perhaps I may in a day or two. There is only one thing I can say at present.”
“And that is—”
“That the affair has been pretty carefully planned and worked out. It is probably the work of an experienced hand,” answered Mr. Harland. “It may be that the whole thing was engineered by some clever continental thief, or by a gang of 'em.”
“But that,” said Sir Desmond, “would argue that they had had accomplices in my own house.”
“There wouldn't be anything very surprising about that,” the detective observed dryly.
He rose from the table, nodded cheerfully to everybody, and went out of the room. One by one the others followed, and I was left alone. I read the newspapers for the rest of the afternoon.
At six o'clock the waitress asked me if I would mind if Mr. Harland dined with me in the coffeeroom at seven o'clock. He had ordered his dinner at the same hour as myself, and one cooking would do for the two of us. The inspector and I, accordingly, enjoyed each other's society for some forty minutes, but he made no reference to the robbery. He chatted freely enough of other things, and I was sorry when he rose from the table and left me once more in solitude.
I was not, however, condemned to spend a solitary evening. Strolling into the garden a little later, I turned to find Count Hofberg following me down the path. He came up to me as if we were the greatest friends in the world.
“What an exquisite evening!” he said. “These Irish twilights affect me deeply.”
I took my cigar out of my mouth and looked at him.
“Did you come out on purpose to tell me that?” I inquired.
“Scarcely,” he replied, cool and imperturbable as ever. “Seeing you alone in this garden,” he continued, “I came down to converse with you. I desire to hold a highly important conversation with you, Mr. Hanmer, if you will be so good.”
I made no reply, but half turned from him, hoping that he would take the hint to go away. He was not to be repulsed, however. Drawing out his cigar case, he selected a cigar and began to smoke.
“Mr. Hanmer,” he said presently, “oblige me by walking with me into the meadow at the end of this garden. There is a stile there on which we can sit and converse in privacy. An inn garden is not exactly the place to talk confidentially.”
“I can't understand the need for confidence between us,” I said, remaining where he had found me.
“I give you my word of honor there is no need,” he said; “but what I have to say to you is for you alone.”
I hastily reviewed the situation. I was there to find out as much about Count Hofberg as I could. I knew he was planning some sort of mischief. Perhaps I could find out what it was.
“Very good!” said I. “I'll go.”
We walked on in silence until we had reached the center of the meadow. There Von Hofberg suddenly stopped and addressed me.
“Hanmer,” he said, “I give you my word of honor that until this morning I was certain that you had stolen the jewels.”
I made no answer to this candid admission.
“I know quite well,” he continued, “that you still believe that I am the thief, or am at the bottom of it. Hanmer, you are making just as great a mistake about me as I made about you.”
He looked straight at me as he spoke, and I suddenly recognized that he was in dead earnest. I think he saw that I believed him.
“Yes,” he said, “that's the plain truth. I don't know where those jewels are—I only wish I did! I have no notion of their whereabouts, or of who appropriated them. I'm at a dead loss. Their disappearance has upset my calculations altogether.”
I smoked in silence for awhile.
“Well,” I said, “what then?”
“I should like to find those jewels,” he told me.
“There's two thousand pounds reward if you do,” I responded, endeavoring to preserve an air of indifference.
He shrugged his shoulders.
“Hanmer,” he said, “let's be candid.”
“I am waiting to hear what you have to say,” said I.
“What I have to say,” he went on, “is this—I desire to get the jewels of which the princess has been robbed. There are many reasons why I desire this. The chief one is closely identified with myself. After all, self-preservation is the first law of life, especially with men who are desperate.”
“I believe your philosophy is absolutely correct, count,” I replied.
“Well, my dear Hanmer, I am desperate,” he said. “My chances with Princess Amirel are nil. Her wedding is to take place almost at once. I thought I had played my game well; it appears that I have failed. Very well, the next chance is the recovery of the princess's jewels. They are worth at least two thousand pounds, eh, Hanmer? They are worth at the most—well, never mind that. There is time to discuss that later. I hope I make myself clear?”
“Very clear, indeed, as to your own intentions, count,” I said. “May I ask what all this has to do with me?”
“Much—much!” he replied. “My dear Hanmer, you, too, are desperate. You cannot go on like this, living on the good-natured Nancy's money.”
“Count,” said I, “you are making a mistake. I am at present living on my own lawfully acquired earnings. Do not, therefore, so far forget yourself as to oblige me to kick you over the hedge into the garden.”
“Calm yourself,” said he. “I understand the situation; but, Hanmer, those earnings will not last forever. Now listen to me. I have formed a high estimate of your powers, and I invite you to become my partner in recovering the princess's jewels. What say you?”
“First of all,” said I, “I ask, have you any clew?”
“No clew,” he answered, “but a rapidly developing suspicion.”
“You think it will develop into some result?”
“I think so; but I need a partner, Hanmer.”
“Why don't you try Jefferson?” I said.
The count swore.
“Very well,” said I. “One more question—supposing I go into partnership with you and supposing we find the jewels, what then?”
“The jewels are worth at least two thousand pounds,” he said musingly. “A thousand pounds would start you out in life once more.”
“A thousand pounds would not do much for the Graf von Hofberg.”
“True, Hanmer; but, after all, we need not discuss that question until we find the jewels, eh?”
“Yes, I think we may leave that question until we find the jewels; and that, of course, will never be.”
“Ah!” he said quickly. “You decline my offer?”
“Absolutely.”
He smoked in silence for a moment or two.
“You are making a mistake,” he said. “We should have done well. However, there is an end of it. Let me give you a word of advice, Hanmer—do not cross me in this. I warn you that if you oppose me I shall kill you.”
Without another word he turned away and strode off toward the garden. I remained in the meadow for some time, thinking matters over, and wondering what the count meant when he spoke of having a rapidly developing suspicion. Well, at any rate, I was not going to be mixed up with him. I should have no objection to earning the reward of two thousand pounds for myself, but I drew the line at sharing it with him.
I turned back to the hotel, feeling certain that Count Hofberg would have no delicate scruples of conscience about shooting me if I crossed his path.