Call Mr. Fortune. Henry Christopher Bailey
is surprising, sir."
"What? What? Be careful, my boy. Handsome creature, isn't she?"
"Yes, sir." Reggie declined to be amused. "The Archduke Leopold is staying with them."
"Leopold. He's the dandy entomologist. He's tame enough. Well, he's the head of the house after this fellow. Better tell him." He blinked at Reggie. "You have nurses you can trust? Well, we'll stay in the room till one comes, my boy. Our friend of the hatpin won't miss a chance. These Royal families they're a criss-cross of criminal tendencies. Hohenzollerns, Hapsburgs, Pragas, Wittelsbachs—look at the heredity."
"There was another running-down case here tonight. The man was killed—fractured skull. He was left on the road too. And another queer thing—he was much the same build as the Archduke Maurice."
"Good Gad!" Sir Lawson was startled out of his omniscient manner, an event unknown in Reggie's experience. "There's something devilish in it. Fortune. One murder—the wrong man dead—and then try again at once the same way. Imagine the creature looking at that poor dead wretch and jumping on the car again to drive it on at the other man. Diabolical! Diabolical!"
"I don't think I have much imagination, sir," said Reggie, who was not impressed by ineffective emotion.
There was a gentle tap at the door, a nurse came and was given her instructions, and the two men went down to the Archduke Leopold.
He had changed his clothes. He was now in a claret-coloured velvet which did violence to his complexion and his pale beard. He sat in the smoking-room with a book on the entomology of Java and a glass of eau sucrée. He smiled at them and waved them to chairs.
"I have to tell you, sir, that your brother lies in grave danger," said Sir Lawson.
Reggie looked at him sideways.
"Ah, the concussion! It is serious, then? I am deeply distressed."
"The concussion is most serious. There's another matter. In your brother's chest above the heart, at which it must have been aimed, we have found—this."
"Mon Dieu! It is a hatpin-a woman's hatpin. But it is incredible! It is murder."
"Attempted murder."
"But what do you suggest, sir? Do you accuse some one?"
"Not my function. That pin was driven at your brother's heart by some one. Can you tell me any more, sir?"
The Archduke buried his face in his hands. "I will not believe it," he muttered—"I will not believe it." After a little he controlled himself. "Gentlemen, you have a right to my confidence. I will tell you everything. I trust you to do all that is possible for my poor brother and for the honour of our family, which to him, as to me, is dearer than life. You know that he is the heir to the throne of Bohemia. My uncle, the Emperor, has long been vexed with his living in England. I came here to persuade my brother to go back to his country. My poor brother had made his home here at the wish of the Archduchess, who dislikes the duties of royalty. He was passionately, madly, in love with her. But, alas! in these love marriages there is often difficulty. They were not of the same mind upon many things, and the Archduchess is of a vehement temper. I fear—but you will forgive me if I say no more. I take one small thing. My brother loved to go walking. The Archduchess is passionately fond of her motor-car, drives it herself, loves wild speed. My brother detested motor-cars. I fear that my coming gave them cause for fresh quarrels. My brother was ready to go back to Bohemia. The Archduchess was violently opposed to it. I confess to you, gentlemen, I have feared some scandal, some madness. I thought she would leave him. But this—it is appalling."
"The Archduchess was out in her motor-car tonight?" Sir Lawson said.
"Yes. Yes. It is true. But this—must we think it?"
"We have to think of nothing but our duty to our patient," said Sir Lawson.
The Archduke grasped his hand. "You are right. I thank you. I shall not forget your fidelity."
The Archduchess whirled into the room. She, as Reggie remarked, had not cared to change her clothes. She had not even touched her hair, which was escaping in a wild disorder from under her hat. "They will not let me see him," she cried. "Leopold——"
"It is by my instructions, madame," Sir Lawson said. "I am responsible for the Archduke's safety."
She bit her lip. "Is he so hurt?" she said unsteadily.
"He lies in very grave danger, madame. I permit no one in his room."
She stared at him, her throat quivering, her great eyes bold and bright. Then with a little shrug she turned away and, plucking at the gold things which jingled from her waist, took out a cigarette and lit it. Reggie saw one of those foreign matches with the violet heads.
Sir Lawson made his bow, and Reggie went with him to his car. "Why did you tell them that the Archduke was in grave danger?" he said.
"He'll be safer if they believe he is going to die," said Sir Lawson.
"Oh, do you think so?" said Reggie, as the car shot away.
Then he made an excellent supper and slept sound.
He found his patient peaceful in the morning. No sign of consciousness yet, but more colour in the cheeks, a deeper breathing and a stronger pulse, more warmth. "The Archduchess has come twice in the night to ask about him, doctor," the nurse said. "I told her he was no better."
"Did she make a noise? Reggie frowned.
"No, she was very good."
Reggie went out to take the air, and the air is not bad on the Westhampton heights. He made a good pace under the great beeches of Boldrewood, and came out on the open road across the heath. Just there he had found the dead man. A dull red stain could still be seen. It was farther on that the Archduke was struck. Just beyond the turn to Brendon. He found the place. There was a loosening of the road, as if a heavy car had been brought up sharply or made a violent swerve. He walked to and fro scanning the ground. Another of those foreign matches.
He was just picking it up when a motor-car stopped a few yards away. Two men jumped out and came towards him. One was middle-aged and singularly without distinction. The other had a youthful and very jaunty air, and it was only when he came near that Reggie saw the fellow was old enough to be his father. An actor's face, with that look of calculated expression, and an actor's way of dressing, a trifle too emphatic. His present part was the gay young fellow.
"Dr. Fortune, I think?" He smiled all over his face.
"I am Dr. Fortune."
"Reconstructing the crime, eh? Oh, you needn't be discreet. I'm Lomas—Stanley Lomas—Criminal Investigation Department, don't you know? Sir Lawson Hunter came round to me last night. Patient's doing well, I see. That's providential. Just a momen—just a moment." He skipped away from Reggie to his companion, and they went over the ground. But Reggie thought them very superficial. Lomas skipped back again. "He didn't bleed, then. The other man did, though—the man you found."
"In the middle of the road. And I found him dead in the gutter."
"It's quaint what the criminal don't think of. I'm surprised every time. Did you find anything here?"
Reggie held out his match. "There were two more like that by the other man."
Lomas turned it over. "Belgian make. You buy them all over the Continent, don't you know."
"The Archduchess carries them."
"Now, that's very interesting. If you don't mind I'll walk up to the house with you." Upon the way he praised the beauties of nature and the quality of the morning air.
As they came to the door of Boldrewood a big car passed them with the Archduchess driving alone. Lomas put up his eyeglass. "She's not overcome with grief, what?"
"Not quite."
"Might