Afterwards Part 36

"Proof? Well, the woman herself admits it, and certainly she has never been seen to write so much as a word----"

"That does not prove she could not write quite well if she wished to,"

said Clive quietly. "People do strange things in this queer world of ours, Dr. Anstice, as I expect you know considerably better than I do.

Have you never had an hysterical patient who declared she could not walk and after being carried about for months has been discovered dancing a fandango in her bedroom on the sly?"

He laughed and threw away his cigarette.

"Perhaps that's not quite a typical case, but you must have known of many people who declare they have lost the use of one or more of their faculties--possibly in order to gain sympathy from their friends?"

"Quite so." Anstice could not but admit the fact. "But as you say, in these cases there is generally some definite object to be gained, even if it is only the desire for sympathy. In this case, however, the motive appears to be lacking, for I gather that long before the anonymous letters began to arrive this woman had admitted her inability to handle pen or pencil."

"Really? That complicates matters a little," said Clive thoughtfully.

"Though, of course, if the woman were a schemer it is possible she might prepare the way, so to speak, for some time beforehand. In any case it is an interesting problem. But I don't quite see why this woman--supposing it to be she--? should start another campaign, directed, this time, against you. Surely she can't want her mistress, to whom you say she is devoted, to be suspected once more?"

"I don't know--I confess it is a problem beyond my powers to solve,"

said Anstice rather hopelessly; and Clive answered at once, with a kind note in his voice.

"Don't say that, Dr. Anstice. All sorts of mysteries have come to light sooner or later, you know, and it is quite on the cards this one may be easier to solve than you think at present. At any rate, if I may give you a word of advice, keep your eye on the Italian woman. I'll swear those inverted commas are of foreign origin, and as a doctor you ought to be able to find some way of penetrating through any imposition in the way of pretence."

"Thanks," said Anstice, rather amused at this tribute to his powers.

"I'll do my best. Anyway, you have given me valuable help, and I'll follow up this clue at once."

"Do--and let me know the result." Clive followed his visitor to the door. "I really am genuinely interested in the case, and I shall be pleased to hear from you how things progress."

They parted on mutually cordial terms, and an Anstice walked away he began to feel as though, after all, this mystery might yet be solved; though he was bound to confess that at present the introduction of Tochatti's name merely complicated matters.

He had a couple of hours to fill in before repairing to the station, and feeling in the mood for exercise, he set out for a brisk walk, careless of whither his steps led him while he pondered over his recent interview with Clive.

After the quiet and pastoral solitude of Littlefield London seemed unpleasantly crowded and noisy. The reek of petrol was a poor subst.i.tute for the clean country air, and the hoot of innumerable motors and 'buses struck on his ear with new and singularly disagreeable force as he took his way along Piccadilly.

Suddenly a noise considerably louder and more ominous than the rest penetrated his hearing, and looking hastily round he saw that a collision had taken place between a taxi-cab and a motor-van bearing the name of a well-known firm in Oxford Street--with apparently tragic results to the taxi-cab, which lurched in the road like a drunken man vainly attempting to steer a straight course, and eventually toppled half over on to the pavement, where it struck a lamp-post with a terrific crash as it came to rest.

With the rapidity peculiar to the life of cities a crowd instantly began to a.s.semble; and as a burly policeman, notebook in hand, pushed through the people, a middle-aged gentleman stepped, with some difficulty, out of the wrecked cab, and stumbled forward on to the kerb, almost into the arms of Anstice, who reached the spot at the same moment and caught him as he staggered and seemed about to fall.

"Hold up, sir!" Anstice involuntarily gripped the gentleman's shoulder to support him; and his friendly tone and prompt help apparently a.s.sured the other man, who pulled himself together pluckily.

"Thanks, thanks!" He was white, and evidently had been somewhat upset, for the taxi had swerved half across the road to the discomfort of its occupant. "You are most kind. I am really not hurt, only a little shaken. The driver of the van was entirely to blame--I hope, constable, you will make all possible inquiries into the matter."

As a first step towards doing so the policeman stolidly requested the speaker's name and address, and these having been furnished he proceeded to interrogate the van-driver and the taxi-man, both of whom were only too ready to pour out voluble explanations, each accusing the other of carelessness with a freedom of language only known, apparently, to those who have intimate acquaintance with the dark ways of motors and their accompanying vices.

In the meantime the middle-aged gentleman turned to Anstice with a word of grat.i.tude for his timely support.

"You're sure you're not hurt?" Anstice thought the other man looked oddly white. "I'm a doctor--and if I can do anything for you----"

"No, I'm really all right, thanks." He relinquished Anstice's arm, which he had been unconsciously holding, and looked round him. "By good luck I'm opposite my club, and if this fellow has finished with me I'll go in and sit down."

The constable intimated that he had no further need of him for the moment; and having a.s.serted his readiness to appear in court in connection with the case he turned back to Anstice.

"Will you come in and have a peg with me?" His invitation was cordial.

"I'm all alone--just back from India, and if you can spare five minutes, I'll be glad of your company."

"Thanks." Anstice was curiously attracted towards the man. "I'm killing time, waiting for a train, and I'll come with pleasure."

They went up the steps of the building outside which the accident had occurred; and five minutes later his new friend, brushed and tidied, every speck of dust removed from his well-cut suit, led him to a comfortable corner of the smoking-room and invited him to take a seat, calling to a waiter as they sat down.

"What will you drink--whisky-and-soda? Right--I'll have the same--a large whisky for me," he said, as the man moved away. "I really feel as though I want a stiff drink," he added, rather apologetically, to Anstice.

"I expect you do--your taxi came a fearful b.u.mp on the kerb," said Anstice, "You were lucky not to get shoved through the window."

"Yes--it was down, fortunately, or I might have got in quite a nasty mess with cut gla.s.s." He hesitated a moment. "By the way, shall we exchange cards? Here's mine, at any rate."

He laughed and pushed the slip of pasteboard over to Anstice, who returned the courtesy before picking it up. But as the latter glanced at it perfunctorily, with no premonition of the surprise in store for him, the name he read thereon sent a sudden thrill through his veins; and he uttered a quite involuntary exclamation which caused his companion to look up in amazement.

For by one of those strange coincidences which happen every day, yet never lose their strangeness, the man who sat opposite to Anstice on this murky November afternoon was Chloe Carstairs' husband, Major Carstairs.

CHAPTER IV

For a moment his _vis-a-vis_ regarded him with a very natural surprise.

Then:

"You seem a little astonished," he said, with a hint of stiffness in his manner. "May I ask if my name is familiar to you? I don't think I remember yours--though"--he stole another glance at the card, and his brows drew together a little thoughtfully--"Now that I come to look at it I do seem to have heard it before."

"I daresay you have, if you have lived in India. Unfortunately, my name was pretty well known in that country once, for the proverbial nine days." His voice was a little savage. "But don't trouble about _my_ name--let me admit at once that yours is perfectly familiar to me."

He broke off as the waiter approached with their gla.s.ses; and until he had vanished Anstice said no more. Then he continued steadily:

"You see I am living at present in Littlefield; and I have the honour of being acquainted with a lady bearing the same name as yourself."

"You mean my wife?" He spoke calmly; and Anstice found himself admiring the other's composure. "Then you will be able to give me the latest news of her and of my little daughter. Has she--Cherry, I mean--quite recovered from that serious burning accident in September?"

"Quite, I think." For a second Anstice's heart was sick within him as he remembered the night on which that accident had taken place; but he stifled the memory and continued steadily. "She got over it splendidly, and she is not marked by even the tiniest scar."

"That's a good thing." Major Carstairs took a drink from the contents of his gla.s.s, and then, setting it down, looked Anstice squarely in the face. "See here, Dr. Anstice, by a strange coincidence you and I have been brought together this afternoon, and I should be very much obliged if you will be kind enough to answer me one or two questions."

"I am quite ready to answer any questions you may care to ask, Major Carstairs." Anstice sat upright and pushed aside his gla.s.s, and Major Carstairs began at once.

"First of all, how long have you been in Littlefield?"

"A little over twelve months. I went there, to be exact, in September of last year."

"I see. And you have been acquainted with Mrs. Carstairs during the whole of that time?"

"Not quite. I first met Mrs. Carstairs in the spring, when I was called in to attend her professionally."