Part 6

"Think it over," the funny creature went on, as he finally stuffed his bit of string back into his pocket and rose from the table, "think it over and you will realise at once that everything happened just as I have related, and that it is the only theory that fits in with the facts that are known; you'll also agree with me, I think, that Captain and Mrs. Saunders chose the one way of ridding themselves effectually of a dangerous blackmailer. The police were after him for a long time, as they still believed that he had something to do with the theft of the necklace and with the assault on M. le Capitaine Saunders. But presently 1914 came along and what became of the man with the walrus moustache no one ever knew. What his nationality was was never stated at the time, but whatever it was, it would, I imagine, be a bar against his obtaining a visa on his passport for the purpose of visiting England and blackmailing Arthur Saunders.

"But it was a curious case."

IV

THE MYSTERY OF THE RUSSIAN PRINCE

§1

There had been a great deal of talk about that time, in newspapers and amongst the public, of the difficulty an inexperienced criminal finds in disposing of the evidences of his crime--notably of course of the body of his victim. In no case perhaps was this difficulty so completely overcome--at any rate as far as was publicly known--as in that of the murder of the individual known as Prince Orsoff. I am thus qualifying his title because as a matter of fact the larger public never believed that he was a genuine Prince--Russian or otherwise--and that even if he had not come by such a violent and tragic death the Smithsons would never have seen either their ten thousand pounds again or poor Louisa's aristocratic bridegroom.

I had been thinking a great deal about this mysterious affair, indeed it had been discussed at most of the literary and journalistic clubs as a possible subject for a romance or drama, and it was with deliberate intent that I walked over to Fleet Street one afternoon, in order to catch the Old Man in the Corner in his accustomed teashop, and get him to give me his views on the subject of the mystery that to this very day surrounds the murder of the Russian Prince.

"Let me just put the whole case before you," the funny creature began as soon as I had led him to talk upon the subject, "as far as it was known to the general public. It all occurred in Folkestone, you remember, where the wedding of Louisa Smithson, the daughter of a late retired grocer, to a Russian Prince whom she had met abroad, was the talk of the town.

"It was on a lovely day in May, and the wedding ceremony was to take place at Holy Trinity Church. The Smithsons--mother and daughter--especially since they had come into a fortune, were very well known in Folkestone, and there was a large crowd of relatives and friends inside the church and another out in the street to watch the arrival of guests and to see the bride. There were camera men and newspaper men, and hundreds of idlers and visitors, and the police had much ado to keep the crowd in order.

"Mrs. Smithson had already arrived looking gorgeous in what I understand is known as amethyst crêpe-de-chine, and there was a marvellous array of Bond Street gowns and gorgeous headgears, all of which kept the lookers-on fully occupied during the traditional quarter of an hour's grace usually accorded to the bride.

"But presently those fifteen minutes became twenty, the clergy had long since arrived, the guests had all assembled, the bridesmaids were waiting in the porch: but there was no bridegroom. Neither he nor his best man had arrived; and now it was half an hour after the time appointed for the ceremony, and, oh, horror! the bride's car was in sight. The bride in church waiting for the bridegroom!--such an outrage had not been witnessed in Folkestone within the memory of the oldest inhabitants.

"One of the guests went at once to break the news to the elderly relative who had arranged to give the bride away, and who was with her in the car, whilst another, a Mr. Sutherland Ford, jumped into the first available taxi, having volunteered to go to the station in order to ascertain whether there had been any breakdown on the line, as the bridegroom was coming down by train from London with his best man.

"The bride, hastily apprised of the extraordinary contretemps, remained in the car, with the blinds pulled down, well concealed from the prying eyes of the crowd, whilst the fashionable guests, relatives and friends had perforce to possess their soul in patience.

"And presently the news fell like a bombshell in the midst of this lively throng. A taxi drove up, and from it alighted first Mr. Sutherland Ford, who had volunteered to go to the station for information, and then John and Henry Carter, the two latter beautifully got up in frock-coats, striped trousers, top hats, and flowers in their buttonholes, looking obviously like belated wedding guests. But still no bridegroom, and no best man.

"The three gentlemen, paying no heed to the shower of questions that assailed them, as soon as they had jumped out of the taxi ran straight into the church, leaving every one's curiosity unsatisfied and public excitement at fever pitch.

"'It was John and Henry Carter,' the ladies whispered agitatedly; 'fancy their being asked to the wedding!'

"And those who were in the know whispered to those who were less favoured that young Henry had at one time been engaged to Louisa Smithson, before she met her Russian Prince, and that when she threw him over he was in such dire despair that his friends thought he would commit suicide.

"A moment or two later Mrs. Smithson was seen hurriedly coming out of church, her face pale and drawn, and her beautiful hat all awry. She made straight for the bride's car, stepped into it, and the car immediately drove off, whilst the wedding guests trooped out of the church, and the terrible news spread like wildfire through the crowd, and was presently all over the town.

"It seems that when the midday train, London to Folkestone, stopped at Swanley Junction, two passengers who were about to enter a first-class compartment in one of the corridor carriages were horrified to find it in a terrible state of disorder. They hastily called the guard, and on examination the carriage looked indeed as if it had been the scene of a violent struggle: the door on the off side was unlatched, two of the window straps were wrenched off, the anti-macassars were torn off the cushions, one of the luggage racks was broken, and the net hung down in strips, and over some of the cushions were marks unmistakably made by a blood-stained hand.

"The guard immediately locked the compartment and sent for the local police. No one was allowed in or out of the station until every passenger on the train had satisfied the police as to his or her identity. Thus the train was held up for over two hours whilst preliminary investigations were going on.

"There appeared no doubt that a terrible murder had been committed, and telephonic communication all along the line presently established the fact that it must have been done somewhere in the neighbourhood of Sydenham Hill, because a group of men who were at work on the 'up' side of the line at Penge, when the down train came out of the tunnel noticed that the door of one of the first-class carriages was open. It swung to again just before the train steamed through the station.

"A preliminary search was at once made in and about the tunnel; it revealed on the platform of Sydenham Hill station a first-class single ticket of that day's issue, London to Folkestone, crushed and stained with blood, and on the permanent way, close to the entrance of the tunnel on the Penge side, a soft black hat, and a broken pair of pince-nez. But as to the identity of the victim there was for the moment no clue.

"After a couple of wearisome and anxious hours the passengers were allowed to proceed on their journey. Among these passengers, it appears, were John and Henry Carter, who were on their way to the Smithson wedding. Until they arrived in Folkestone they had no more idea than the police who the victim of the mysterious train murder was: but in the station they caught side of Mr. Sutherland Ford, whom they knew slightly. Mr. Ford was making agitated enquiries as to any possible accident on the line. The Carters put him _au fait_ of what had occurred, and as there was no sign of the Russian Prince amongst the passengers who had just arrived, all three men came to the horrifying conclusion that it was indeed the bridegroom elect who had been murdered.

"They communicated at once with the police, and there were more investigations and telephonic messages up and down the line before the Carters and Mr. Ford were at last allowed to proceed to the church and break the awful news to those most directly concerned.

"And in this tragic fashion did Louisa Smithson's wedding-day draw to its end; nor, as far as the public was concerned, was the mystery of that terrible murder ever satisfactorily cleared up. The local police worked very hard and very systematically, but, though presently they also had the help of one of the ablest detectives from Scotland Yard, nothing was seen or found that gave the slightest clue either as to the means which the murderer or murderers adopted for removing the body of their victim, or in what manner they made good their escape. The body of the Russian Prince was never found, and, as far as the public knows, the murderer is still at large; and although, as time went on, many strange facts came to light, they only helped to plunge that extraordinary crime into darker mystery."

§2

"The facts in themselves were curious enough, you will admit," the Old Man in the Corner went on after a while. "Many of these were never known to the public, whilst others found their way into the columns of the halfpenny Press, who battened on the 'Mystery of the Russian Prince' for weeks on end, and, as far as the unfortunate Smithsons were concerned, there was not a reader of the _Express Post_ and kindred newspapers who did not know the whole of their family history.

"It seems that Louisa Smithson is the daughter of a grocer in Folkestone, who had retired from business just before the War, and with his wife and his only child led a meagre and obscure existence in a tiny house in Warren Avenue somewhere near the tram road. They were always supposed to be very poor, but suddenly old Smithson died and it turned out that he had been a miser, for he left the handsome little fortune of fifteen thousand pounds to be equally divided between his daughter and his widow.

"At once Mrs. Smithson and Louisa found themselves the centre of an admiring throng of friends and relatives all eager to help them spend their money for their especial benefit; but Mrs. Smithson was shrewd enough not to allow herself to be exploited by those who in the past had never condescended to more than a bowing acquaintance with her. She turned her back on most of those sycophants, but at the same time she was determined to do the best for herself and for Louisa, and to this end she admitted into her councils her sister, Margaret Penny, who was saleswoman at a fashionable shop in London, and who immediately advised a journey up to town so that the question of clothes might at once be satisfactorily settled.

"In addition to valuable advice on that score, this Miss Penny seems to have succeeded in completely turning her sister's head. Certain it is that Mrs. Smithson left Folkestone a quiet, sensible, motherly woman, and that she returned, six weeks later, an arrogant, ill-mannered parvenue, who seemed to think that the possession of a few thousand pounds entitled her to ride rough-shod over the feelings and sentiments of those who had less money than herself.

"She began by taking a suite of rooms at the Splendide Hotel for herself, her daughter, and her maid. Then she sold her house in Warren Avenue, bought a car, and, though she and Louisa were of course in deep mourning, they were to be seen everywhere in wonderful Bond Street dresses and marvellous feathered hats. Finally, they announced their intention of spending the coming winter on the Riviera, probably Monte Carlo.

"All this extravagant behaviour made some people smile, others shrugged their shoulders and predicted disaster: but there was one who suffered acutely through this change in the fortune of the Smithsons. This was Henry Carter, a young clerk employed in an insurance office in London. He and his brother were Folkestone men, sons of a local tailor in a very small way of business, who had been one of old Smithson's rare friends. The elder Carter boy had long since cut his stick and was said to be earning a living in London by free-lance journalism. The younger one, Henry, remained to help his father with the tailoring. He was a constant visitor in the little house in Warren Avenue, and presently became engaged to Louisa. There could be no question of an immediate marriage, of course, as Henry had neither money nor prospects. However, presently old Carter died, the tailoring business was sold for a couple of hundred pounds, and Henry went up to London to join his brother and to seek his fortune. Presently he obtained a post in an insurance office, but his engagement to Louisa subsisted: the young people were known to be deeply in love with one another, and Henry spent most weekends and all his holidays in Folkestone in order to be near his girl.

"Then came the change in the fortune of the Smithsons, and an immediate coolness in Louisa's manner toward young Henry. It was all very well in the past to be engaged to the son of a jobbing tailor, while one was poor oneself, and one had neither wit nor good looks, but now...!

"In fact already when they were in London Mrs. Smithson had intimated to Henry Carter that his visits were none too welcome, and when he appealed to Louisa she put him off with a few curt words. The young man was in despair, and, indeed, his brother actually feared at one time that he would commit suicide.

"It was soon after Christmas of that same year that the curtain was rung up on the first act of the mysterious tragedy which was destined to throw a blight for ever after upon the life of Louisa Smithson. It began with the departure of herself and her mother for the Continent, where they intended to remain until the end of March. For the first few weeks their friends had no news of them, but presently Miss Margaret Penny, who had kept up a desultory correspondence with a pal of hers in Folkestone, started to give glowing accounts of the Smithsons' doings in Monte Carlo.

"They were staying at the Hotel de Paris, paying two hundred francs a day for their rooms alone. They were lunching and dining out every day of the week. They had been introduced to one or two of the august personages who usually graced the Riviera with their presence at this time of year, and they had met a number of interesting people. According to Miss Penny's account, Louisa Smithson was being greatly admired, and, in fact, several titled gentlemen of various nationalities had professed themselves deeply enamoured of her.

"All this Miss Penny recounted in her letters to her friends with a wealth of detail and a marvellous profusion of adjectives, and finally in one of her letters there was mention of a certain Russian grandee--Prince Orsoff by name--who was paying Louisa marked attention. He, also, was staying at the Paris, appeared very wealthy, and was obviously of very high rank for he never mixed with the crowd which was more than usually brilliant this year in Monte Carlo. This exclusiveness on his part was all the more flattering to the Smithsons, and, when he apprised them of his intention to spend the season in London, they had asked him to come and visit them in Folkestone, where Mrs. Smithson intended to take a house presently and there to entertain lavishly during the summer.

"After this preliminary announcement from Miss Penny, Louisa herself wrote a letter to Henry Carter. It was quite a pleasant chatty letter, telling him of their marvellous doings abroad and of her own social successes. It did not do more, however, than vaguely hint at the Russian prince, his distinguished appearance and obvious wealth. Nevertheless it plunged the unfortunate young man into the utmost depths of despair, and according to his brother John's subsequent account, the latter had a terrible time with young Henry that winter. John himself was very busy with journalistic work which kept him away sometimes for days and weeks on end from the little home in London which the two brothers had set up for themselves with the money derived from the sale of the tailoring business. And Henry's state of mind did at times seriously alarm his brother, for he would either threaten to do away with himself, or vow that he would be even with that accursed foreigner.

"At the end of March, the Smithsons returned to England. During the interval Mrs. Smithson had made all arrangements for taking The Towers, a magnificently furnished house facing the Leas at Folkestone, and here she and Louisa installed themselves preparatory to launching their invitations for the various tea and tennis parties, dinners and dances which they proposed to give during the summer.

"One might really quite truthfully say that the eyes of all Folkestone were fixed upon the two ladies. Their Paris dresses, their hats, their jewellery, was the chief subject of conversation at tea-tables, and of course every one was talking about the Russian Prince, who--Mrs. Smithson had confided this to a bosom friend--was coming over to England for the express purpose of proposing to Louisa.

"There was quite a flutter of excitement on a memorable Friday afternoon when it was rumoured that Henry Carter had come down for a week-end, and had put up at a small hotel down by the harbour. Of course, he had come to see Louisa Smithson; every one knew that, and no doubt he wished to make a final appeal to her love for him which could not be entirely dead yet.

"Within twenty-four hours, however, it was common gossip that young Henry had presented himself at The Towers and been refused admittance. The ladies were out, the butler said, and he did not know when they would be home. This was on the Saturday. On the Sunday Henry walked about on the Leas all the morning, in the hope of seeing Louisa or her mother, and as he failed to do so he called again in the early part of the afternoon: he was told the ladies were resting. Later he came again, and the ladies had gone out, and on the Monday, as presumably business called him back to town, he left by the early-morning train without having seen his former fiancée. Indeed people from that moment took it for granted that young Henry had formally been given his congé.

"Toward the middle of April Prince Orsoff arrived in London. Within two days he telephoned to Mrs. Smithson to ask her when he might come to pay his respects. A day was fixed, and he came to The Towers to lunch. He came again, and at his third visit he formally proposed to Miss Louisa Smithson, and was accepted. The wedding was to take place almost immediately, and the very next day the exciting announcement had gone the round of the Smithsons' large circle of friends--not only in Folkestone but also in London.

"The effect of the news appears to have been staggering as far as the unfortunate Henry Carter was concerned. In the picturesque language of Mrs. Hicks, the middle-aged charlady who 'did' for the two brothers in their little home in Chelsea, ''e carried on something awful.' She even went so far as to say that she feared he might 'put 'is 'ead in the gas oven,' and that, as Mr. John was away at the time, she took the precaution every day when she left to turn the gas off at the meter.

"The following week-end Henry came down to Folkestone and again took up his quarters in the small hotel by the harbour. On the Saturday afternoon he called at The Towers, and refused to take 'no' for an answer when he asked to see Miss Smithson. Indeed, he seems literally to have pushed his way into the drawing-room where the ladies were having tea. According to statements made subsequently by the butler, there ensued a terrible scene between Henry and his former fiancée, at the very height of which, as luck would have it, who should walk in but Prince Orsoff.

"That elegant gentleman, however, seems to have behaved on that trying occasion with perfect dignity and tact, making it his chief business to reassure the ladies, and paying no heed to Henry's recriminations, which presently degenerated into vulgar abuse and ended in violent threats. At last, with the aid of the majestic butler, the young man was thrust out of the house, but even on the doorstep he turned and raised a menacing fist in the direction of Prince Orsoff and said loudly enough for more than one person to hear:

"'Wait! I'll be even with that ---- foreigner yet!'

"It must indeed have been a terrifying scene for two sensitive and refined ladies like Mrs. and Miss Smithson to witness. Later on, after the Prince himself had taken his leave, the butler was rung for by Mrs. Smithson who told him that under no circumstances was Mr. Henry Carter ever to be admitted inside The Towers.

"However, a Sunday or two afterwards, Mr. John Carter called and Mrs. Smithson saw him. He said that he had come down expressly from London in order to apologise for his brother's conduct. Harry, he said, was deeply contrite that he should thus have lost control over himself, his broken heart was his only excuse. After all, he had been and still was deeply in love with Louisa, and no man, worth his salt, could see the girl he loved turning her back on him without losing some of that equanimity which should of course be the characteristic of every gentleman.

"In fact, Mr. John Carter spoke so well and so persuasively that Mrs. Smithson and Louisa, who were at bottom quite a worthy pair of women, agreed to let bygones be bygones, and said that, if Henry would only behave himself in the future, there was no reason why he should not remain their friend.

"This appeared a quite satisfactory state of things, and over in the little house in Chelsea Mrs. Hicks gladly noted that 'Mr. 'Enry seemed more like 'isself, afterwards.' The very next week-end the two brothers went down to Folkestone together, and they called at The Towers so that Henry might offer his apologies in person. The two gentlemen on that occasion were actually asked to stay to tea.

"Indeed, it seems as if Henry had entirely turned over a new leaf, and when presently the gracious invitation came for both brothers to come to the wedding, they equally graciously accepted.

§3

"The day fixed for the happy event was now approaching. The large circle of acquaintances, friends, and hangers-on which the Smithsons had gathered around them were all agog with excitement, wedding presents were pouring in by every post. A kind of network of romance had been woven around the personalities of the future bride, her mother, and the Russian Prince. The wealth of the Smithsons had been magnified an hundredfold, and Prince Orsoff was reputed to be a brother of the late Czar who had made good his escape out of Russia, bringing away with him most of the Crown jewels, which he would presently bestow upon his wife. And so on, _ad infinitum_.

"And upon the top of all that excitement and that gossip, and marvellous tales akin to the Arabian Nights, came the wedding-day with its awful culminating tragedy.

"The Russian Prince had been murdered and his body so cleverly disposed of that in spite of the most strenuous efforts on the part of the police, not a trace of it could be found.