Call Mr. Fortune. Henry Christopher Bailey
don't you know."
"I don't know."
"It takes some of them that way," Lomas said pensively. He turned on the steps of the house and looked after the car as it wound in and out among the beeches. "Striking woman. Yes. I'll come up to your room, if you don't mind."
"I thought you wanted to say something," Reggie said.
Lomas did not answer till they were upstairs. "Well, no. Not to say anything," he resumed, and lit a cigarette. " I want another opinion, as you fellows say. Sir Lawson Hunter has made up his mind."
"Oh, he always does that."
Lomas lifted an eyebrow. "Well, look at it. Somebody in a car laid for our Archduke. The other poor devil was cut down by mistake. And the somebody had nerve enough to go on. That's striking. The Archduchess comes of pretty wild stock. In love or out of love she wouldn't stick at a trifle. You find her matches by each body. You find a hatpin in the Archduke. That's a blunder, what? Yes, but it's a woman's blunder. She finds he isn't quite dead after all her trouble, she is desperate, and—voilà." He made a gesture of stabbing.
"So you've made up your mind too, Mr. Lomas? "
Lomas blew smoke rings. "I'm wasting your time, doctor. I want to know—has it occurred to you—the Archduchess and the Archduke Leopold—working it together? If she's fallen in love with Leopold. That straightens it out, don't you know."
"Guess again," Reggie said.
Lomas lit another cigarette. "Well, that's what I want to know. You saw them together just after the crime." He lifted an eyebrow.
"Nothing doing," said Reggie.
"I'm afraid so. I'm afraid so. It's a disturbing case, doctor. Nothing doing, as you say. If I had all the evidence in my hands, I expect there's no one I could touch. You can't indict royalty. The Archduke's smash—well, let's say it's all in the family. But this poor devil they killed! Who's to pay for him? These royal dagoes come over and run amuck on an English road, and I can't touch them. Disheartening, what? That's the trouble, doctor."
Reggie nodded and, as his breakfast made its appearance, Lomas rose to go. He would not have even coffee. "Better get busy, don't you know. We must see if we can put the fear of God into them. If they'll go scurrying back to Bohemia it's the best way out." He skipped off, his jauntiness put on again like a coat.
Reggie was standing at the window with his after-breakfast pipe when the Archduchess brought her car back. She was very pale in spite of the morning air, and her face had grown haggard. "Something'll snap," Reggie was saying to himself, when a voice behind him said aloud, "Nice car, sir." He jumped round and saw standing at his elbow that ordinary, sturdy man who was Lomas's companion. "After all, there's nothing like an English car," said this stolid person.
"Oh. You've noticed that?" Reggie said. "You do notice something, then?"
"Of course we aren't gifted, sir. But we're professional. Something in that, don't you think? Yes, sir, as you say: we have noticed something. It was a foreign car, and foreign tyres did the trick last night. And the Archduchess drives English. And yet—did you know we had the other half of the hatpin? I picked it up last night." He held out a scrap of steel with a big head of wrought silver. "German work, they tell me."
"Viennese," Reggie said.
"You know everything, sir. Such a convenience. But Vienna being quite near Bohemia, as I've heard—looks awkward, don't it?"
"Is that what you came to say?"
"Not wholly, sir. No. I am Superintendent Bell. Mr. Lomas sent me to you. He considered you might find it convenient to have some one in the house who could keep an eye open."
"Very kind of Mr. Lomas."
There was a tap at the door. The Archduke Leopold's valet appeared. The Archduke Leopold was much surprised that Dr. Fortune had not brought him news of the patient. The Archduke Leopold desired that Dr. Fortune would come to him immediately.
"Really?" Reggie said. "Dr. Fortune's compliments to the Archduke, and he is much occupied. He can give the Archduke a few moments."
The valet, having the appearance of a man who has never been so surprised in his life, retired.
"It's a gift," Superintendent Bell murmured. "It's a gift, you know. I never could handle the nobs."
Reggie began to get together some odds and ends; a bottle full of tiny white tablets, a graduated glass, a jug of water, a hypodermic syringe. "You'd better clear out, you know," he said to Superintendent Bell.
"Will he come?"
"He'll come all right," Reggie said, and took off his coat. When he turned, Superintendent Bell had vanished.
"Just setting the stage, sir? " said a voice from behind the curtain.
"Confound your impertinence," Reggie growled. "Here——"
But the Archduke came in. He was now a decoration in a russet brown. "You are very mysterious, Dr. Fortune," he complained. "I expect more frankness, sir."
"My patient is my first consideration, sir."
"I desire that you will consider my anxieties. Well, sir, how is my brother?"
"You may give yourself every hope of his recovery, sir."
The Archduke looked round for a chair and was some time in finding one. "This is very good news," he said slowly, and slowly smiled. "Mon Dieu, doctor, it seems too good to be true! Last night you told me to fear the worst."
"Last night—was last night, sir," Reggie said. "This morning we begin to see our way. All the symptoms are good. I believe that in a few hours the patient will be able to speak."
"To speak? But the concussion? It was so dangerous. But this is bewildering, doctor."
"Most fortunate, sir. You might talk of the hand of Providence. Well, we shall see what we shall see. He may be able to tell you something of how it all happened. You'll pardon me, I'm anxious to prepare the injection." He dropped a tablet in the glass and poured in water. "Fact is, this ought to make all the difference. Wonderful things drugs, sir. A taste of strychnine—one of these little fellows—and a man has another try at living. Two or three of 'em—just specks, aren't they?—sudden death. Excuse me a moment. I must take a look at the patient."
He was gone some time.
When he came back the Archduke was still there. "All goes well, doctor?"
"I begin to think so."
"I must not delay you. My dear doctor! If only your hopes are realized. What happiness!" He slid out of the room.
Reggie went to the table and picked up the glass of strychnine solution. From behind the curtain Superintendent Bell rushed out and caught his arm. "Don't use it, sir," he said hoarsely. Superintendent Bell was flushed.
"Don't be an ass," said Reggie. He put the glass down, took up the bottle of tablets, turned them out on a sheet of paper, and began to count them.
"Good Lord!" said Superintendent Bell. "You laid for him, did you? What a plant!"
"You know, you're an impertinence," Reggie said, and went on counting.
"I'll get on to Mr. Lomas, sir," said the Superintendent humbly.
"Don't you telephone or I'll scrag you."
"Telephone? Not me. I say, sir, you're some doctor." He fled.
Reggie finished his counting and whistled. "He did himself proud," said he. "The blighter!" He shot the tablets back into their bottle, found another bottle and poured into it the solution, and locked both away. "Number one," he said, with satisfaction. "Now for number two." He went off to his patient and spent a placid half-hour chatting with the day nurse on dancing in musical comedy. But it was hardly half an hour before the