XLII
Mother
In the room three men had mysteriously appeared—the three who had captured Parr’s spy two nights before—and in a second Yale was manacled hand and foot. A deft hand jerked the pistol that he carried from his pocket, a third man dropped a cloth bag over his head and face, and he was hurried from the room.
Inspector Parr wiped the perspiration from his streaming forehead, and faced his amazed audience.
“Gentlemen,” he said a little shakily, “if you will excuse me for tonight I will tell you the whole of this story tomorrow.”
They surrounded him, plying him with questions, but he could only shake his head.
“He’s had a very bad time,” it was the colonel’s voice, “and nobody knows it better than I. I should be very glad, Prime Minister, if you could accede to the inspector’s request, and allow the further explanation to stand over until tomorrow.”
“Perhaps the inspector will lunch with us,” said the Premier, and his Commissioner accepted on Parr’s behalf.
Gripping Jack’s arm Parr marched from the room and into the street. A taxicab was awaiting him and he bundled the young man in.
“I feel that I’ve been dreaming,” said Jack when he had found his voice. “Derrick Yale! Impossible! And yet—”
“Oh, it is possible all right,” said the inspector with a little laugh.
“Then he and Thalia Drummond were working together?”
“Exactly,” was the reply.
“But, inspector, how did you get on to this story?”
“Mother put me on to it,” was the unexpected answer. “You don’t realise what a clever old lady mother is. She told me tonight—”
“Then she’s come back?”
“Yes, she’s come back,” said the inspector. “I want you to meet her. She’s a bit dogmatic, and she is inclined to argue, but I always let her have her way in that respect.”
“And you may be sure I shall, too,” laughed Jack, though he did not feel like laughing. “You really believe that the Crimson Circle is in your hands?”
“I am sure of it,” said the inspector. “As sure as I’m sitting in this taxicab with you, and as sure as I am that grandmother is the wisest old lady in the world.”
Jack maintained a silence until they were turning into the avenue.
“Then this means that Thalia is dragged a little lower?” he said quietly. “If this man Yale is, as you believe, the Crimson Circle, he will not spare her.”
“I’m certain of that,” said the inspector; “but, lord bless you, Mr. Beardmore, why trouble your head about Thalia Drummond?”
“Because I love her, you damned fool!” said Jack savagely, and instantly apologised.
“I know I’m a bit of a fool,” the inspector spoke, between gusts of laughter, “but I’m not the only one in London, Mr. Beardmore, believe me. And if you’ll take my advice you’ll forget that Thalia Drummond ever existed. And if you’ve got any love to spare, why, give it to mother!”
Jack was about to say something uncomplimentary about this paragon of a grandmother, but suppressed his desire.
The inspector’s maisonette was on the first floor, and he went up the stairs ahead, opened the door and stood for a moment in the doorway.
“Hello, mother,” he said. “I’ve brought Mr. Jack Beardmore to see you.”
Jack heard an exclamation.
“Come in, Mr. Beardmore, come in and meet mother.”
Jack stepped into the room and stood as if he had been shot. Facing him was a smiling girl, a little pale and a little tired looking, but undoubtedly, unless he were mad or dreaming, Thalia Drummond!
She took his outstretched hand in hers and led him to the table, where a meal for three was laid.
“Daddy, you told me you were going to bring the Commissioner,” she said reproachfully.
“Daddy?” stammered Jack. “But you told me she was your grandmother.”
She patted his hand.
“Daddy has developed a sense of humour, which is very distressing,” she said. “I’m always called ‘mother’ at home, because I’ve mothered him ever since my own dear mother died. And that story about his grandmother is nonsense, but you must forgive him.”
“Your father?” said Jack.
Thalia nodded.
“Thalia Drummond Parr, that is my name. Thank goodness, you aren’t a crime investigator, or you would have made inquiries and discovered my ghastly secret. Now eat your supper, Mr. Beardmore; I cooked it myself.”
But Jack could neither eat nor drink until he had learnt more, and she proceeded to enlighten him.
“When the first of the Crimson Circle murders occurred and daddy was put into the case, I knew that he had a tremendous work in front of him and that the chances were he would fail. Daddy has a lot of enemies at headquarters, and our Commissioner asked him not to take the case, knowing how difficult it was going to be. You see, the Commissioner is my godfather,” she added smilingly, “and naturally he takes an interest in our affairs. But daddy insisted, though I think he regretted it the moment he had taken it on. I have always been interested in police work, and just as soon as father got behind the Crimson Circle organisation and knew the methods that the Circle employed to gather its recruits, I decided to start upon a career of crime.
“Your father received the first threat three months before it was put into execution. It was two or three days afterwards that I secured a post as secretary to Harvey Froyant, for no other reason than that his estate adjoined yours. He was a friend of your father, and it gave me an opportunity of watching. I tried to get employment with your father. Perhaps you don’t know that,” she said quietly, “but I failed. Even more dreadful, I was in the wood when he was killed.” She squeezed his hand sympathetically. “I didn’t see who it was who fired the shot, but I flew forward to where your father was lying, only to discover that he was beyond help, and then, seeing you through the trees running across the meadows toward the wood, I thought I had better get away. The more so,” she added, “since I had a revolver in my hand at the time, for I had seen a man stalking in the wood and I had gone in to investigate.
“With the death of your father there was no longer any need for me to remain in the service of Mr. Froyant. I wanted to get closer to the Crimson Circle, and I knew the best way to attract the attention of the man who controlled the gang was for me to embark on a criminal career. It was not providential that you were passing the pawnshop when I came out after pledging Mr. Froyant’s golden image. My father manoeuvred that, and when he described me as a thief and an associate of crooks, it was to create an atmosphere, which would impress Derrick Yale, or Ferdinand Walter Lightman, to give him his real name. There was no danger of my being sent to prison. The magistrate treated me as a first offender, but my reputation was gone, and immediately after, as I expected, I received a summons to meet the head of the Crimson Circle.
“I met him one night in Steyne Square. I think daddy was watching me all the time and shadowed me back to the house. He was never far away, were you, darling?”
“Only at Barnet,” he shook his head. “I was scared there, mother.”
“My first task as a member of the Crimson Circle was to go to Brabazon. You see, Yale’s method was to set one member to spy upon another. Mr. Brabazon puzzled me. I was never quite sure whether he was straight or crooked, and of course I had no idea at first that he was a member of the gang. I had to begin stealing again in order to sustain my character. It brought down on me a reprimand from my mysterious chief, but it served a useful purpose, for it brought me into contact with a gang of crooks and led unconsciously to my being present in Marisburg Place when Felix Marl also died.
“Yale’s object in employing me was to divert suspicion from himself. Besides which, he had intended a very pretty ending to my youthful life. The night he killed Froyant I was ordered to be in the vicinity of the house with a similar knife and the fellow gauntlet to that which Yale used himself in his dreadful crime.”
“But how did you escape from prison?” asked Jack.
She looked at him with amusement in her eyes.
“You dear boy,” she said, “how could I escape from prison? I was let out by the governor in the middle of the night and escorted to my home by a respectable inspector of police!”
“We wanted to force Yale’s hand, you see,” explained Parr. “As soon as he knew that mother was out he got rattled and began to hurry his preparations for flight. When he found that his office had been burgled he was pretty sure that Thalia was something more than he had dreamt she was.”