There was the window, too the window which I had opened in order to gasp for air after that suffocating odour of pot-pourri.
As I stood there the watchful caretaker with his eye upon me, wondering no doubt I again took in every detail. My return held me more than ever puzzled.
What is the room beyond? I asked.
Oh! Thats the mistresss bedroom, he replied. A curious fancy to have her room next to the library. But its one of the best rooms in the house. The master hates London. He lives all the time in Italy, and is only over here just for a week or two in spring, and a week or so before Christmas.
Id like to see that room, I said, affecting ignorance.
He took me in.
In a second I saw that nothing had been changed since I had stood there at the death-bed of Gabrielle Engledue a little over a month ago.
There was the handsome bed-chamber with its inlaid cupboards, its great dressing-table, and its fine bed the bed upon which the beautiful young woman had been lying dead. But now the bed had been re-made and its quilted coverlet of pale pink silk was undisturbed.
The corpse had been removed and buried upon my certificate!
I sniffed to see whether I could detect that curious odour of pot-pourri, but in vain. The air seemed fresh and not stifling as it had been on that well-remembered night.
Upon a side table stood a large photograph in a silver frame. I bent to look at it, whereupon the caretaker said:
Thats a good photograph of Mr. De Gex, isnt it, sir?
Excellent, I said, for it was a really fine portrait. Does your mistress come over from Italy often?
Oh, yes, and she brings the little boy over with her. She is frequently here, while her husband stays at Fiesole. I send on his correspondence every day to Mr. Henderson, his secretary.
I stood gazing around the room. Upon that bed the beautiful girl lay dead, and I had certified the cause of her death! Yet I had, later on, been the victim of some devils trick of which I knew nothing.
I was there to investigate. Yet though I questioned the caretaker very closely, I confess that I met with little success. He was an old and trusted servant of the family. Hence to many of my inquiries he remained dumb.
When do you expect your master back? I asked at last.
Oh, not for another six months or so.
Where is Mrs. De Gex?
Ah! That I cant quite make out, he replied. Its a bit of a mystery. One night she went away quite unexpectedly and, as a matter of fact, nobody knows where she is. Her husband doesnt know or pretends he doesnt, he said with a knowing grin.
Then she has disappeared! I exclaimed.
Thats just it. And they were always such a devoted pair. Little Oswald was the only thing she lived for.
Lived! I echoed. Then do you think shes dead? I asked quickly.
Dead! Why should we think so? If she were, we should surely have seen it in the papers?
But your master has very funny fits sometimes, I said. Ive heard about his eccentric ways.
Of course he has. Hes overburdened with money thats what it is. Mr. Henderson looks after all his affairs. Mr. De Gex has no regard for money. Mr. Henderson attends to everything. Phew! I wish I were a millionaire! I find it hard enough nowadays to pay the butcher and baker and make both ends meet.
And so do I, I said, laughing. But, tell me, where is the young lady who used to live here Mr. De Gexs niece?
His niece! I dont think he has a niece.
Miss Gabrielle Engledue.
Whos she? Ive never heard of her, was the mans reply.
I described her, but he shook his head.
To my knowledge Mr. De Gex hasnt got a niece, he said.
Were you here five weeks ago? I inquired.
Five weeks ago? No. I and my wife went away down to Swanage to see her sister. The master gave us a fortnights holiday. Why?
Oh nothing, I replied. I merely inquired as I want to clear up a mystery thats all.
What mystery?
The mystery of Miss Engledue your masters niece, I answered.
But Ive never heard of any niece, he said.
A young lady of about twenty-one with dark hair and eyes, and a beautiful complexion, I said.
But the old servants mind was a blank.
Of course, sir, many people come to visit Mr. De Gex. Horton would know them, but I dont. When the master is in town the servants are here, and Im down in Cornwall at the castle.
Then you are only here as caretaker when the family is away?
Thats it, sir, he said. But what is the mystery about this young lady? You said you knew Mr. De Gex, and yet you wanted to look over the house.
Yes, I responded with a laugh. I have my own object to clear up the mystery of Mr. De Gexs niece.
Well, as far as I know, he has no niece! But you could easily find out, I suppose!
The man was evidently no fool.
Of course I dont know who comes here, or who stays here when the family is in town, he went on. I simply come up and look after the place with my wife.
Then you were away in Swanage during the first week of November? I asked very seriously.
Yes, we went down on the last day of October, and we were back here in the middle of November. My wifes sister was very ill, and her husband didnt expect her to live. So I remember the dates only too well.
Then the family were in town on the date I mention.
He considered a moment.
Oh! Of course they were. They must have been.
I glanced again around the room, full of amazement and wonder.
The mans failure to give me any details regarding the extremely attractive girl who had died upon his mistresss bed held me gripped in uncertainty. The mystery was even more puzzling now that I had started to investigate.
As I stood in that room a thousand strange reflections flashed across my mind.
Why had I, a mere passer-by, been called in so suddenly to be taken into the intimacy of the millionaires household? Was it by mere accident that I had been invited in, or was it by careful design? I had lost five thousand pounds by foolish speculation, and yet I had regained it by being party to a criminal offence.
Again, who was the pretty, dark-haired girl who had first uttered those hysterical screams, and then, while fully dressed, had died upon Mrs. De Gexs bed? Further, if the mysterious dead girl had been niece of the millionaire surely my friend the caretaker would have known her?
I confess that I now became more bewildered than ever.
That a girl named Gabrielle Engledue whoever she might have been had died, and that I had forged a certificate showing the cause of death were hard, solid facts. But the mystery of it all was complete.
That I had been the victim of some very carefully prepared and subtle plot was apparent, and it had become my own affair to investigate it and bring to justice those who were responsible for the poor girls death.
Time after time I questioned the caretaker regarding the existence of the millionaires niece, Miss Engledue, but it was plain to me that he had no knowledge of any such person.
Was there not a death in this house about five weeks ago? I asked.
Death? he echoed. Why, no, sir. You must be dreaming. If there had been a death while I was away, either my wife or I would certainly have heard about it. And he looked suspiciously at me as though he believed I had taken leave of my senses.