Part 4 (1/2)
”You see he didn't slip on the ice, Michel. You were quite wrong. It was the avalanche. It was no fault of his.”
”I was wrong,” said Michel, and he took Chayne by the arm lest he should fall; and these two men came long after the others into Chamonix.
CHAPTER IV
MR. JARVICE
The news of Lattery's death was telegraphed to England on the same evening. It appeared the next morning under a conspicuous head-line in the daily newspapers, and Mr. Sidney Jarvice read the item in the Pullman car as he traveled from Brighton to his office in London. He removed his big cigar from his fat red lips, and became absorbed in thought. The train rushed past Ha.s.socks and Three Bridges and East Croydon. Mr.
Jarvice never once looked at his newspaper again. The big cigar of which the costliness was proclaimed by the gold band about its middle had long since gone out, and for him the train came quite unexpectedly to a stop at the ticket platform on Battersea Bridge.
Mr. Jarvice was a florid person in his looks and in his dress. It was in accordance with his floridness that he always retained the gold band about his cigar while he smoked it. He was a man of middle age, with thick, black hair, a red, broad face, little bright, black eyes, a black mustache and rather prominent teeth. He was short and stout, and drew attention to his figure by wearing light-colored trousers adorned with a striking check. From Victoria Station he drove at once to his office in Jermyn Street. A young and wizened-looking clerk was already at work in the outer room.
”I will see no one this morning, Maunders,” said Mr. Jarvice as he pressed through.
”Very well, sir. There are a good number of letters,” replied the clerk.
”They must wait,” said Mr. Jarvice, and entering his private room he shut the door. He did not touch the letters upon his table, but he went straight to his bureau, and unlocking a drawer, took from it a copy of the Code Napoleon. He studied the doc.u.ment carefully, locked it up again and looked at his watch. It was getting on toward one o'clock. He rang the bell for his clerk.
”Maunders,” he said, ”I once asked you to make some inquiries about a young man called Walter Hine.”
”Yes, sir.”
”Do you remember what his habits were? Where he lunched, for instance?”
Maunders reflected for a moment.
”It's a little while ago, sir, since I made the inquiries. As far as I remember, he did not lunch regularly anywhere. But he went to the American Bar of the Criterion restaurant most days for a morning drink about one.”
”Oh, he did? You made his acquaintance, of course?”
”Yes, sir.”
”Well, you might find him this morning, give him some lunch, and bring him round to see me at three. See that he is sober.”
At three o'clock accordingly Mr. Walter Hine was shown into the inner room of Mr. Jarvice. Jarvice bent his bright eyes upon his visitor. He saw a young man with very fair hair, a narrow forehead, watery blue eyes and a weak, dissipated face. Walter Hine was dressed in a cheap suit of tweed much the worse for wear, and he entered the room with the sullen timidity of the very shy. Moreover, he was a little unsteady as he walked, as though he had not yet recovered from last night's intoxication.
Mr. Jarvice noted these points with his quick glance, but whether they pleased him or not there was no hint upon his face.
”Will you sit down?” he said, suavely, pointing to a chair. ”Maunders, you can go.”
Walter Hine turned quickly, as though he would have preferred Maunders to stay, but he let him go. Mr. Jarvice shut the door carefully, and, walking across the room, stood over his visitor with his hands in his pockets, and renewed his scrutiny. Walter Hine grew uncomfortable, and blurted out with a c.o.c.kney tw.a.n.g--
”Maunders told me that if I came to see you it might be to my advantage.”
”I think it will,” replied Mr. Jarvice. ”Have you seen this morning's paper?”
”On'y the 'Sportsman'.”
”Then you have probably not noticed that your cousin, John Lattery, has been killed in the Alps.” He handed his newspaper to Hine, who glanced at it indifferently.