The Talleyrand Maxim, J. S. Fletcher [books to read fiction TXT] 📗

a telegram

from Messrs. Halstead & Byner, of St. Martin’s Chambers, informing him

that their Mr. Byner would travel to Barford by the first express next

morning, and would call upon him at eleven o’clock.

 

“Then they have some important news for Parrawhite,” mused Eldrick, as

he put the message in his pocket and went off to his club. “Inquiry

agents don’t set off on long journeys at a moment’s notice for a matter

of a trifling agency. But—where is Parrawhite?”

 

He awaited the arrival of Mr. Byner next morning with considerable

curiosity. And soon after eleven there was shown in to him, a smart,

well-dressed, alert-looking young man, who, having introduced himself as

Mr. Gerald Byner, immediately plunged into business.

 

“You can tell me something of James Parrawhite, Mr. Eldrick?” he began.

“We shall be glad—we’ve been endeavouring to trace him for some months.

It’s odd that you didn’t see our advertisement before.”

 

“I don’t look at that sort of advertisement,” replied Eldrick. “I

believe it was by mere accident that my partner saw yours yesterday

afternoon. But now, a question or two first. What are you—inquiry

agents?”

 

“Just so, sir—inquiry agents—with a touch of private detective

business,” answered Mr. Gerald Byner with a smile. “We undertake to find

people, to watch people, to recover lost property, and so on. In this

case we’re acting for Messrs. Vickers, Marshall & Hebbleton, Solicitors,

of Cannon Street. They want James Parrawhite badly.”

 

“Why?” asked Eldrick.

 

“Because,” replied Byner with a dry laugh, “there’s about twenty

thousand pounds waiting for him, in their hands.”

 

Eldrick whistled with astonishment.

 

“Whew!” he said. “Twenty thousand—for Parrawhite! My good sir—if

that’s so, and if, as you say, you’ve been advertising–-”

 

“Advertising in several papers,” interrupted Byner. “Dailies, weeklies,

provincials. Never had one reply, till your wire.”

 

“Then—Parrawhite must be dead!” said Eldrick. “Or—in gaol, under

another name. Twenty thousand pounds—waiting for Parrawhite! If

Parrawhite was alive, man, or at liberty, he wouldn’t let twenty

thousand pence wait five minutes! I know him!”

 

“What can you tell me, Mr. Eldrick?” asked the inquiry agent.

 

Eldrick told all he knew—concealing nothing. And Byner listened

silently and eagerly.

 

“There’s something strikes me at once,” he said. “You say that with him

disappeared three or four ten-pound notes of yours. Have you the numbers

of those notes?”

 

“I can’t say,” replied Eldrick, doubtfully. “I haven’t, certainly.

But—they were paid in to our head-clerk, Pratt, and I think he used to

enter such things in a sort of day-ledger. I’ll get it.”

 

He went into the clerks’ office and presently returned with an oblong,

marble-backed book which he began to turn over.

 

“This may be what you ask about,” he said at last. “Here, under date

November 23, are some letters and figures which obviously refer to

banknotes. You can copy them if you like.”

 

“Another question, Mr. Eldrick,” remarked Byner as he made a note of the

entries. “You say some cheque forms were abstracted from a book of yours

at the same time. Have you ever heard of any of these cheque forms being

made use of?”

 

“Never!” replied Eldrick.

 

“No forgery of your name or anything?” suggested the caller.

 

“No,” said Eldrick. “There’s been nothing of that sort.”

 

“I can soon ascertain if these banknotes have reached the Bank of

England,” said Byner. “That’s a simple matter. Now suppose they

haven’t!”

 

“Well?” asked Eldrick.

 

“You know, of course,” continued Byner, “that it doesn’t take long for a

Bank of England note, once issued, to get back to the Bank? You know,

too, that it’s never issued again. Now if those notes haven’t been

presented at the Bank—where are they? And if no use has been made of

your stolen cheques—where are they?”

 

“Good!” agreed Eldrick. “I see that you ought to do well in your special

line of business. Now—are you going to pursue inquiries for Parrawhite

here in Barford, after what I’ve told you?”

 

“Certainly!” said Byner. “I came down prepared to stop awhile. It’s

highly important that this man should be found—highly important,” he

added smiling, “to other people than Parrawhite himself.”

 

“In what way?” asked Eldrick.

 

“Why,” replied Byner, “if he’s dead—as he may be—this money goes to

somebody else—a relative. The relative would be very glad to hear he is

dead! But—definite news will be welcome, in any case. Oh, yes, now that

I’ve got down here, I shall do my best to trace him. You have the

address of the woman he lodged with, you say. I shall go there first, of

course. Then I must try to find out what he did with himself in his

spare time. But, from all you tell me, it’s my impression he’s

dead—unless, as you say, he’s got into prison again—possibly under

another name. It seems impossible that he should not have seen our

advertisements.”

 

“You never advertised in any Yorkshire newspapers?” asked Eldrick.

 

“No,” said Byner. “Because we’d no knowledge of his having come so far

North. We advertised in the Midland papers. But then, all the London

papers, daily and weekly, that we used come down to Yorkshire.”

 

“Parrawhite,” said Eldrick reflectively, “was a big newspaper reader. He

used to go to the Free Library reading-room a great deal. I begin to

think he must certainly be dead—or locked up. However, in supplement of

your endeavours, I did a little work of my own last night. There you

are!” he went on, picking up the local papers and handing them over. “I

put that in—we’ll see if any response comes. But now a word, Mr. Byner,

since you’ve come to me. You have heard me mention my late

clerk—Pratt?”

 

“Yes,” answered Byner.

 

“Pratt has left us, and is in business as a sort of estate agent in the

next street,” continued Eldrick. “Now I have particular reasons—most

particular reasons!—why Pratt should remain in absolute ignorance of

your presence in the town. If you should happen to come across him—as

you may, for though there are a quarter of a million of us here, it’s a

small place, compared with London—don’t let him know your business.”

 

“I’m not very likely to do that, Mr. Eldrick,” remarked Byner quietly.

 

“Aye, but you don’t take my meaning,” said Eldrick eagerly. “I mean

this—it’s just possible that Pratt may see that advertisement of yours,

and that he may write to your firm. In that case, as he’s here, and

you’re here, your partner would send his letter to you. Don’t deal with

it—here. Don’t—if you should come across Pratt, even let him know your

name!”

 

“When I’ve a job of this sort,” replied Byner, “I don’t let anybody know

my name—except people like you. When I register at one of your hotels

presently, I shall be Mr. Black of London. But—if this Pratt wanted to

give any information about Parrawhite, he’d give it to you, surely, now

that you’ve advertised.”

 

“No, he wouldn’t!” asserted Eldrick. “Why? Because he’s told me all he

knows—or says he knows—already!”

 

The inquiry agent looked keenly at the solicitor for a moment during

which they both kept silence. Then Byner smiled.

 

“You said—‘or says he knows,’” he remarked. “Do you think he didn’t

tell the truth about Parrawhite?”

 

“I should say—now—it’s quite likely he didn’t,” answered Eldrick. “The

truth is, I’m making some inquiry myself about Pratt—and I don’t want

this to interfere with it. You keep me informed of what you find out,

and I’ll help you all I can while you’re here. It may be–-”

 

A clerk came into the room and looked at his master.

 

“Mr. George Pickard, of the Green Man at Whitcliffe, sir,” he said.

 

“Well?” asked Eldrick.

 

“Wants to see you about that advertisement in the paper this morning,

sir,” continued the clerk.

 

Eldrick looked at Byner and smiled significantly. Then he turned towards

the door.

 

“Bring Mr. Pickard in,” he said.