The Orange Yellow Diamond by J. S. Fletcher

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"You're sure of that?" he whispered. "Just so! Now--in what way?"

"It says here," answered Elsie, tapping the newspapers with her finger,
"that Mr. Levendale lost this book in a 'bus, which he left at the corner
of Chapel Street, and that he was so concerned about the loss that he
immediately sent advertisements off to every morning newspaper in London.
The last part of that is true--the first part is not true! Mr. Levendale
did not lose his book--he did not leave it in the 'bus! I'm sorry to have
to say it--but all that is invention on his part--why, I don't know."

Purdie had listened to this with a growing feeling of uneasiness and
suspicion. The clouds centring round Levendale were certainly thickening.

"Now, just tell me--how do you know all this?" he asked. "Rely on me--to
the full!"

"I'll tell you," replied Elsie, readily. "Because, about four o'clock on
the afternoon of the old man's death, I happened to be at the corner of
Chapel Street. I saw Mr. Levendale get out of the 'bus. He did not see me.
He crossed Edgware Road and walked rapidly down Praed Street. And--he was
carrying that book in his hand!"

"You're sure it was that book?" asked Purdie.

"According to the description given in this account and in the
advertisement--yes," she answered. "I noticed the fine binding. Although
Mr. Levendale didn't see me--there were a lot of people about--I was close
to him. I am sure it was the book described here."

"And--he went in the direction of the pawnshop?" said Purdie. "What on
earth does it all mean? What did he mean by advertising for the book,
when--"

Before he could say more, a knock came at the door, and the butler
entered, bearing an open telegram in his hand. His face wore an expression
of relief.

"Here's a wire from Mr. Levendale, Miss Bennett," he said. "It's addressed
to me. He says, 'Shall be away from home, on business, for a few days. Let
all go on as usual.' That's better, miss! But," continued Grayson, glancing
at Purdie, "it's still odd--for do you see, sir, where that wire has been
sent from? Spring Street--close by!"

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CONFERENCE

Purdie was already sufficiently acquainted with the geography of the
Paddington district to be aware of the significance of Grayson's remark.
The Spring Street Post Office, at which Levendale's wire had been handed
in, was only a few minutes' walk from the house. It stood, in fact, between
Purdie's hotel and Sussex Square, and he had passed it on his way to
Levendale's. It was certainly odd that a man who was within five minutes'
walk of his own house should send a telegram there, when he had nothing to
do but walk down one street and turn the corner of another to give his
message in person.

"Sent off, do you see, sir, twenty minutes ago," observed the butler,
pointing to some figures in the telegram form. "So--Mr. Levendale must
have been close by--then!"

"Not necessarily," remarked Purdie. "He may have sent a messenger with
that wire--perhaps he himself was catching a train at Paddington."

Grayson shook his head knowingly.

"There's a telegraph office on the platform there, sir," he answered.
"However--there it is, and I suppose there's no more to be done."

He left the room again, and Purdie looked at the governess. She, too,
looked at him: there was a question in the eyes of both.

"What do you make of that?" asked Purdie after a pause.

"What do you make of it?" she asked in her turn.

"It looks odd--but there may be a reason for it," he answered. "Look
here!--I'm going to ask you a question. What do you know of Mr. Levendale?
You've been governess to his children for some time, haven't you?"

"For six months before he left Cape Town, and ever since we all came to
England, three years ago," she answered. "I know that he's very rich, and
a very busy man, and a member of Parliament, and that he goes to the City
a great deal--and that's all! He's a very reserved man, too--of course, he
never tells me anything. I've never had any conversation with him
excepting about the children."

"You're upset about this book affair?" suggested Purdie.

"Why should Mr. Levendale say that he left that book in the omnibus, when
I myself saw him leave the 'bus with it in his hand, and go down Praed
Street with it?" she asked. "Doesn't it look as if he were the person who
left it in that room--where the old man was found lying dead?"

"That, perhaps, is the very reason why he doesn't want people to know that
he did leave it there," remarked Purdie, quietly. "There's more in all
this than lies on the surface. You wanted my advice? Very well don't say
anything to anybody till you see me again. I must go now--there's a man
waiting for me at my hotel. I may call again, mayn't I?"

"Do!" she said, giving him her hand. "I am bothered about this--it's
useless to deny it--and I've no one to talk to about it. Come--any time."

Purdie repressed a strong desire to stay longer, and to turn the
conversation to more personal matters. But he was essentially a business
man, and the matters of the moment seemed to be critical. So he promised
to return, and then hurried back to his hotel--to find Melky Rubinstein
pacing up and down outside the entrance.

Purdie tapped Melky's shoulder and motioned him to walk along Praed
Street.

"Look here!" he said. "I want you to take me to see your cousin--and the
pawnshop. We must have a talk--you said your cousin's a good business
woman. She's the sort we can discuss business with, eh?"

"My cousin Zillah Wildrose, mister," answered Melky, solemnly, "is one of
the best! She's a better headpiece on her than what I have--and that's
saying a good deal. I was going to suggest you should come there. Talk!--
s'elp me, Mr. Purdie, it strikes me there'll be a lot of that before we've
done. What about this here affair of last night?--I've just seen Mr.
Ayscough, passing along--he's told me all about it. Do you think it's
anything to do with our business?"

"Can't say," answered Purdie. "Wait till we can discuss matters with your
cousin."

Melky led the way to the side-door of the pawnshop. Since the old man's
death, the whole establishment had been closed--Zillah had refused to do
any business until her grandfather's funeral was over. She received her
visitors in the parlour where old Daniel had been found dead: after a
moment's inspection of her, and the exchange of a few remarks about
Lauriston, Purdie suggested that they should all sit down and talk matters
over.

"Half-a-mo!" said Melky. "If we're going to have a cabinet council,
mister, there's a lady that I want to bring into it--Mrs. Goldmark. I know
something that Mrs. Goldmark can speak to--I've just been considering
matters while I was waiting for you, Mr. Purdie, and I'm going to tell you
and Zillah, and Mrs. Goldmark, of a curious fact that I know of. I'll
fetch her--and while I'm away Zillah'll show you that there book what was
found there."

Purdie looked with interest at the Spanish manuscript which seemed to be a
factor of such importance.

"I suppose you never saw this before?" he asked, as Zillah laid it on the
table before him. "And you're certain it wasn't in the place when you went
out that afternoon, leaving your grandfather alone?"

"That I'm positive of," answered Zillah. "I never saw it in my life until
my attention was drawn to it after he was dead. That book was brought in
here during my absence, and it was neither bought nor pawned--that's
absolutely certain! Of course, you know whose book it is?"

"Mr. Spencer Levendale's," answered Purdie. "Yes I know all those
particulars--and about his advertisements for it, and a little more. And I
want to discuss all that with you and your cousin. This Mrs. Goldmark--she's
to be fully trusted?"

Zillah replied that Mrs. Goldmark was worthy of entire confidence, and an
old friend, and Melky presently returning with her, Purdie suggested they
should all sit down and talk--informally and in strict privacy.

"You know why I'm concerning myself in this?" he said, looking round at
his three companions. "I'm anxious that Andie Lauriston should be fully
and entirely cleared! I've great faith in him--he's beginning what I
believe will be a successful career, and it would be a terrible thing if
any suspicion rested on him. So I want, for his sake, to thoroughly clear
up this mystery about your relative's death."

"Mister!" said Melky, in his most solemn tones. "Speaking for my cousin
there, and myself, there ain't nothing what we wouldn't do to clear Mr.
Lauriston! We ain't never had one moment's suspicion of him from the
first, knowing the young fellow as we do. So we're with you in that
matter, ain't we, Zillah?"

"Mr. Purdie feels sure of that," agreed Zillah, with a glance at
Lauriston's old schoolmate. "There's no need to answer him, Melky."

"I am sure!" said Purdie. "So--let's put our wits together--we'll consider
the question of approaching the police when we've talked amongst
ourselves. Now--I want to ask you some very private questions. They spring
out of that rare book there. There's no doubt that book belongs to Mr.
Levendale. Do either of you know if Mr. Levendale had any business
relations with the late Mr. Rubinstein?"

Zillah shook her head.

"None!--that I know of," she answered. "I've helped my grandfather in this
business for some time. I never heard him mention Mr. Levendale. Mr.
Levendale never came here, certainly."

Melky shook his head, too.

"When Mr. Ayscough, and Mr. Lauriston, and me went round to Sussex Square,
to see Mr. Levendale about that advertisement for his book," he remarked,
"he said he'd never heard of Daniel Multenius. That's a fact, mister!"

"Had Mr. Multenius any private business relations of which he didn't tell
you?" asked Purdie, turning to Zillah.

"He might have had," admitted Zillah. "He was out a good deal. I don't
know what he might do when he went out. He was--close. We--it's no use
denying it--we don't know all about it. His solicitor's making some
enquiries--I expect him here, any time, today."

"It comes to this," observed Purdie. "Your grandfather met his death by
violence, the man who attacked him came in here during your absence. The
question I want to get solved is--was the man who undoubtedly left that
book here the guilty man? If so--who is he?"

Melky suddenly broke the silence which followed upon this question.

"I'm going to tell something that I ain't told to nobody as yet!" he said.
"Not even to Zillah. After this here parlour had been cleared, I took a
look round. I've very sharp eyes, Mr. Purdie. I found this here--half-
hidden under the rug there, where the poor old man had been lying." He
pulled out the platinum solitaire, laid it on the palm of one hand, and
extended the hand to Mrs. Goldmark. "You've seen the like of that before,
ain't you?" asked Melky.

"Mercy be upon us!" gasped Mrs. Goldmark, starting in her seat. "I've the
fellow to it lying in my desk!"

"And it was left on a table in your restaurant," continued Melky, "by a
man what looked like a Colonial party--I know!--I saw it by accident in
your place the other night, and one o' your girls told me. Now then, Mr.
Purdie, here's a bit more of puzzlement--and perhaps a clue. These here
platinum solitaire cuff-links are valuable--they're worth--well, I'd give
a good few pounds for the pair. Now who's the man who lost one in this
here parlour--right there!--and the other in Mrs. Goldmark's restaurant?
For--it's a pair! There's no doubt about that, mister!--there's that same
curious and unusual device on each. Mister!--them studs has at some time
or other been made to special order!"

Purdie turned the solitaire over, and looked at Zillah.

"Have you ever seen anything like this before?" he asked.

"Never!" said Zillah. "It's as Melky says--specially made."

"And you have its fellow--lost in your restaurant?" continued Purdie,
turning to Mrs. Goldmark.

"Its very marrow," assented Mrs. Goldmark, fervently, "is in my desk! It
was dropped on one of our tables a few afternoons ago by a man who, as Mr.
Rubinstein says, looked like one of those Colonials. Leastways, my
waitress, Rosa, she picked it up exactly where he'd been sitting. So I put
it away till he comes in again, you see. Oh, yes!"

"Has he been in again?" asked Purdie.

"Never was he inside my door before!" answered Mrs. Goldmark dramatically.
"Never has he been inside it since! But--I keep his property, just so. In
my desk it is!"

Purdie considered this new evidence in silence for a moment.

"The question now is--this," he said presently. "Is the man who seems
undoubtedly to have dropped those studs the same man who brought that book
in here? Or, had Mr. Multenius two callers here during your absence, Miss
Wildrose? And--who is this mysterious man who dropped the studs--valuable
things, with a special device on them? He'll have to be traced! Mrs.
Goldmark--can you describe him, particularly?"

Before Mrs. Goldmark could reply, a knock came at the side-door, and
Zillah, going to answer it, returned presently with a middle-aged, quiet-
looking, gold-spectacled gentleman whom she introduced to Purdie as Mr.
Penniket, solicitor to the late Daniel Multenius.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE DETECTIVE CALLS

Mr. Penniket, to whom the two cousins and Mrs. Goldmark were evidently
very well known, looked a polite enquiry at the stranger as he took the
chair which Melky drew forward for him.

"As Mr. Purdie is presumably discussing this affair with you," he
observed, "I take it that you intend him to hear anything I have to tell?"

"That's so, Mr. Penniket," answered Melky. "Mr. Purdie's one of us, so to
speak--you can tell us anything you like, before him. We were going into
details when you come--there's some strange business on, Mr. Penniket! And
we want to get a bit clear about it before we tell the police what we
know."

"You know something that they don't know?" asked Mr. Penniket.

"More than a bit!" replied Melky, laconically. "This here affair's
revolving itself into a network, mister, out of which somebody's going to
find it hard work to break through!"

The solicitor, who had been quietly inspecting Purdie, gave him a sly
smile.

"Then before I tell you what I have just found out," he said, turning to
Melky, "I think you had better tell me all you know, and what you have
been discussing. Possibly, I may have something to tell which bears on our
knowledge. Let us be clear!"

He listened carefully while Purdie, at Zillah's request, told him briefly
what had been said before his arrival, and Purdie saw at once that none of
the facts surprised him. He asked Mrs. Goldmark one or two questions about
the man who was believed to have dropped one of his cuff-links in her
restaurant; he asked Melky a question as to his discovery of the other; he
made no comment on the answers which they gave him. Finally, he drew his
chair nearer to the table at which they were sitting, and invited their
attention with a glance.

"There is no doubt," he said, "that the circumstances centring round the
death of my late client are remarkably mysterious! What we want to get at,
put into a nut-shell, is just this--what happened in this parlour between
half-past four and half-past five on Monday afternoon? We might even
narrow that down to--what happened between ten minutes to five and ten
minutes past five? Daniel Multenius was left alone--we know that. Some
person undoubtedly came in here--perhaps more than one person came. Who
was the person? Were there two persons? If there were two, did they come
together--or singly, separately? All that will have to be solved before we
find out who it was that assaulted my late client, and so injured him that
he died under the shock. Now, Miss Wildrose, and Mr. Rubinstein, there's
one fact which you may as well get into your minds at once. Your deceased
relative had his secrets!"

Neither Zillah nor Purdie made any comment on this, and the solicitor,
with a meaning look at Purdie, went on. "Not that Daniel Multenius
revealed any of them to me!" he continued. "I have acted for him in legal
matters for some years, but only in quite an ordinary way. He was a well-
to-do man, Mr. Purdie--a rich man, in fact, and a considerable property
owner--I did all his work of that sort. But as regards his secrets, I know
nothing--except that since yesterday, I have discovered that he certainly
had them. I have, as Miss Wildrose knows--and by her instructions--been
making some enquiries at the bank where Mr. Multenius kept his account--
the Empire and Universal, in Lombard Street--and I have made some curious
unearthings in the course of them. Now then, between ourselves--Mr. Purdie
being represented to me as in your entire confidence--I may as well tell
you that Daniel Multenius most certainly had dealings of a business nature
completely outside his business as jeweller and pawnbroker in this shop.
That's positively certain. And what is also certain is that in some of
those dealings he was, in some way or another, intimately associated with
the man whose name has already come up a good deal since Monday--Mr.
Spencer Levendale!"

"S'elp me!" muttered Melky. "I heard Levendale, with my own two ears, say
that he didn't know the poor old fellow!"

"Very likely," said Mr. Penniket, drily. "It was not convenient to him--we
will assume--to admit that he did, just then. But I have discovered--from
the bankers--that precisely two years ago, Mr. Spencer Levendale paid to
Daniel Multenius a sum of ten thousand pounds. That's a fact!"

"For what, mister?" demanded Melky.

"Can't say--nobody can say," answered the solicitor. "All the same, he
did--paid it in, himself, to Daniel Multenius's credit, at the Empire and
Universal. It went into the ordinary account, in the ordinary way, and was
used by Mr. Multenius as part of his own effects--as no doubt it was.
Now," continued Mr. Penniket, turning to Zillah, "I want to ask you a
particular question. I know you had assisted your grandfather a great deal
of late years. Had you anything to do with his banking account?"

"No!" replied Zillah, promptly. "That's the one thing I never had anything
to do with. I never saw his pass-book, nor his deposit-book, nor even his
cheque-book. He kept all that to himself."

"Just so," said Mr. Penniket. "Then, of course, you don't know that he
dealt with considerable sums--evidently quite outside this business. He
made large--sometimes very heavy--payments. And--this, I am convinced, is
of great importance to the question we are trying to solve--most of these
payments were sent to South Africa."

The solicitor glanced round his audience as if anxious to see that its
various members grasped the significance of this announcement. And Melky
at once voiced the first impression of, at any rate, three of them.

"Levendale comes from those parts!" he muttered. "Came here some two or
three years ago--by all I can gather."

"Just so," said Mr. Penniket. "Therefore, possibly this South African
business, in which my late client was undoubtedly engaged, is connected
with Mr. Levendale. That can be found out. But I have still more to tell
you--perhaps, considering everything, the most important matter of the
whole lot. On Monday morning last--that would be a few hours before his
death--Mr. Multenius called at the bank and took from it a small packet
which he had entrusted to his banker's keeping only a fortnight
previously. The bankers do not know what was in that packet--he had more
than once got them to take care of similar packets at one time or another.
But they described it to me just now. A packet, evidently enclosing a
small, hard box, some four or five inches square in all directions,
wrapped in strong cartridge paper, and heavily sealed with red wax. It
bore Mr. Multenius's name and address--written by himself. Now, then, Miss
Wildrose--he took that packet away from the bank at about twelve-thirty on
Monday noon. Have you seen anything of it?"

"Nothing!" answered Zillah with certainty. "There's no such packet here,
Mr. Penniket. I've been through everything--safes, drawers, chests, since
my grandfather died, and I've not found anything that I didn't know of. I
remember that he went out last Monday morning--he was away two hours, and
came in again about a quarter past one, but I never saw such a packet in
his possession as that you describe. I know nothing of it."

"Well," said the solicitor, after a pause, "there are the facts. And the
question now is--ought we not to tell all this to the police, at once?
This connection of Levendale with my late client--as undoubted as it seems
to have been secret--needs investigation. According to Mr. Purdie here--
Levendale has suddenly disappeared--or, at any rate, left home under
mysterious circumstances. Has that disappearance anything to do with
Multenius's death? Has it anything to do with the death of this next door
man, Parslett, last night? And has Levendale any connections with the
strange man who dropped one platinum solitaire stud in Mrs. Goldmark's
restaurant, and another in this parlour?"

No one attempted to answer these questions for a moment; then, Melky, as
if seized with a sudden inspiration, smote the table and leaned over it
towards the solicitor.

"Mr. Penniket!" he said, glancing around him as if to invite approval of
what he was about to say. "You're a lawyer, mister!--you can put things in
order and present 'em as if they was in a catalogue! Take the whole
business to New Scotland Yard, sir!--let the big men at headquarters have
a go at it. That's what I say! There's some queer mystery at the bottom of
all this, Mr. Penniket, and it ain't a one-man job. Go to the Yard,
mister--let 'em try their brains on it!"

Zillah made a murmured remark which seemed to second her cousin's
proposal, and Mr. Penniket turned to Purdie.

"I understand you to be a business man," he remarked. "What do you say?"

"As far as I can put things together," answered Purdie, "I fully agree
that there is some extraordinary mystery round and about Mr. Multenius's
death. And as the detective force at New Scotland Yard exists for the
solution of such problems--why, I should certainly tell the authorities
there everything that is known. Why not?"

"Very good," said Mr. Penniket. "Then it will be well if you two come with
me. The more information we can give to the heads of the Criminal
Investigation Department, the better. We'll go there at once."

In a few moments, the three men had gone, and Zillah and Mrs. Goldmark,
left alone, looked at each other.

"Mrs. Goldmark!" said Zillah, after a long silence. "Did you see that man,
yourself, who's supposed to have dropped that platinum solitaire in your
restaurant?"

"Did I see him?" exclaimed Mrs. Goldmark. "Do I see you, Zillah? See him I
did!--though never before, and never since! And ain't I the good memory
for faces--and won't I know him again if he comes my way? Do you know
what?--I ain't never forgotten a face what I've once looked at! Comes from
keeping an eye on customers who looks as if they might have forgot to
bring their moneys with 'em!"

"Well, I hope you'll see this man again," remarked Zillah. "I'd give a lot
to get all the mystery cleared up."

Mrs. Goldmark observed that mysteries were not cleared up in a day, and
presently went away to see that her business was being conducted properly.
She was devoting herself to Zillah in very neighbourly fashion just then,
but she had to keep running into the restaurant every hour or two to keep
an eye on things. And during one of her absences, later in the early
evening of that day, Zillah, alone in the house, answered a knock at the
door, and opening it found Ayscough outside. His look betokened news, and
Zillah led him into the parlour.

"Alone?" asked Ayscough. "Aye, well, I've something to tell you that I
want you to keep to yourself--for a bit, anyway. Those rings, you know,
that the young fellow, Lauriston, says are his, and had been his
mother's?"

"Well?" said Zillah, faintly, and half-conscious of some coming bad news.
"What of them?"

"Our people," continued the detective, "have had some expert chap--
jeweller, or something of that sort, examining those rings, and comparing
them with the rings that are in your tray. And in that tray there are
several rings which have a private mark inside them. Now, then!--those two
rings which Lauriston claims are marked in exactly the same fashion!"

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

WHAT THE LAMPS SHONE ON

Zillah leaned suddenly back against the table by which she was standing,
and Ayscough, who was narrowly watching the effect of his news, saw her
turn very pale. She stood staring at him during a moment's silence; then
she let a sharp exclamation escape her lips, and in the same instant her
colour came back--heightened from surprise and indignation.

"Impossible!" she said. "I can't believe it; There may be marks inside our
rings--that's likely enough. But how could those marks correspond with the
marks in his rings?"

"I tell you it is so!" answered Ayscough. "I've seen the marks in both--
with my own eyes. It occurred to one of our bosses this evening to have
all the rings carefully examined by an expert--he got a man from one of
the jeweller's shops in Edgware Road. This chap very soon pointed out that
inside the two rings which young Lauriston says are his, and come to him
from his mother, are certain private marks--jewellers' marks, this man
called 'em--which are absolutely identical with similar marks which are
inside some of the rings in the tray which was found on this table. That's
a fact!--I tell you I've seen 'em--all! And--you see the significance of
it! Of course, our people are now dead certain that young Lauriston's
story is false, and that he grabbed those two rings out of that tray.
See?"

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