Part 20 (2/2)

”I know Mrs. Taggart--go on,” said Purdie.

”I didn't know if Mrs. Taggart was still living,” continued Lauriston.

”But I was out early this morning and I found her. She remembers the rings well enough: she described them accurately--what's more she told me what I didn't know--how they came into my mother's possession. You know as well as I do, John, that my father and mother weren't over well off--and my mother used to make a bit of extra money by letting her rooms to summer visitors. One summer she had a London solicitor, a Mr.

Killick, staying there for a month--at least he came for a month, but he was taken ill, and he was there more than two months. My mother nursed him through his illness--and after he'd returned to London, he sent her those rings. And--if there are marks on them,” concluded Lauriston, ”that correspond with marks on the rings in that tray, all I have to say is that those marks must have been there when Mr. Killick bought them!--for they've never been out of our possession--my mother's and mine--until I took them to p.a.w.n.”

Zillah suddenly clapped her hands--and she and Melky exchanged significant glances which the others did not understand.

”That's it!” she exclaimed. ”That's what puzzled me at first. Now I'm not puzzled any more. Melky knows what I mean.”

”What she means, mister,” a.s.sented Melky, tapping Purdie's arm, ”is precisely what struck me at once. It's just as Mr. Lauriston here says--them private marks were on the rings when Mr. Killick bought them. Them two rings, and some of the rings in the tray what's been mentioned all come from the same maker! There ain't nothing wonderful in all that to me and my cousin Zillah there!--we've been brought up in the trade, d'ye see? But the police!--they're that suspicious that--well, the thing to do, gentlemen, is to find this here Mr.

Killick.”

”Just so,” agreed Purdie. ”Where is he to be found, Andie?”

But Lauriston shook his head, disappointedly.

”That's just what I don't know!” he answered. ”It's five and twenty years since he gave my mother those rings, and according to Mrs.

Taggart, he was then a middle-aged man, so he's now getting on in years. But--if he's alive, I can find him.”

”We've got to find him,” said Purdie, firmly. ”In my opinion, he can give some evidence that'll be of more importance than the mere identifying of those rings--never mind what it is I'm thinking of, now.

We must see to that tomorrow.”

”But in the meantime,” broke in Zillah. ”Andie must not go home--to Mrs. Flitwick's! I know what Ayscough meant tonight--and remember, all of you, it was private between him and myself. If he goes home, he may be arrested, any minute. He must be kept out of the way of the police for a bit, and--”

Purdie rose from the table and shook his head determinedly.

”No,” he said. ”None of that! We're going to have no running away, no hiding! Andie Lauriston's not going to show the least fear of the police, or of any of their theories. He's just going to follow my orders--and I'm going to take him to my hotel for the night--leave him to me! I'm going to see this thing right through to the finish--however it ends. Now, let's separate. Mr. Guyler!”

”Sir?” answered the American. ”At your service.”

”Then meet me at my hotel tomorrow morning at ten,” said Purdie.

”There's a new chapter to open.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

THE PARSLETT AFFAIR

At a quarter past ten o'clock on the morning following Ayscough's revelation to Zillah, the detective was closeted with a man from the Criminal Investigation Department at New Scotland Yard in a private room at the local police station, and with them was the superior official who had been fetched to the p.a.w.nshop in Praed Street immediately after the discovery of Daniel Multenius's body by Andie Lauriston. And this official was stating his view of the case to the two detectives--conscious that neither agreed with him.

”You can't get over the similarity of the markings of those rings!” he said confidently. ”To my mind the whole thing's as plain as a pikestaff--the young fellow was hard up--he confessed he hadn't a penny on him!--he went in there, found the shop empty, saw those rings, grabbed a couple, was interrupted by the old man--and finished him off by scragging him! That's my opinion! And I advise getting a warrant for him and getting on with the work--all the rest of this business belongs to something else.”

Ayscough silently glanced at the man from New Scotland Yard--who shook his head in a decided negative.

”That's not my opinion!” he said with decision. ”And it's not the opinion of the people at headquarters. We were at this affair nearly all yesterday afternoon with that little Jew fellow, Rubinstein, and the young Scotch gentleman, Mr. Purdie, and our conclusion is that there's something of a big sort behind old Multenius's death. There's a regular web of mystery! The old man's death--that book, which Levendale did not leave in the 'bus, in spite of all he says, and of his advertis.e.m.e.nts!--Levendale's unexplained disappearance--the strange death of this man Parslett--the mystery of those platinum studs dropped in the p.a.w.nbroker's parlour and in Mrs. Goldmark's eating house--no!--the whole affair's a highly complicated one. That's my view of it.”

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