Call Mr. Fortune | Page 9

is not, dreams what never was. But if I were a policeman, Mr. Lomas, I should not make Dr. Fortune a witness. You become ridiculous."
"He is not the only witness, sir. One of my men was behind the curtain."
The Archduke poured himself out another cup of tea. "May I give you some more, Dr. Fortune? No? I fear you are malicious, my friend." He laughed a little. "And you, sir. We sometimes find a policeman corrupt in our country. We do not permit him to trouble us."
"You brought a German car into England, sir," Lomas said. "Where is that car?"
"Your spies do not seem very good, Mr. Lomas. Come, sir, enough of this. I -- " The Archduke started from his seat with a cry. His body was bent in a bow. A horrible grin distorted his face. He fell down and was convulsed... He gasped; his pale cheeks became of a dusky blue. He writhed and lay still...
"So that's that," Reggie said. " I wondered what he wanted with half a dozen."
"What is it?" Lomas muttered.
"Oh, strychnine poisoning. He's swallowed a grain or so."
"My God! Can you do anything?"
Reggie shrugged. " He's as dead as the table. ..."
After a while, "Well! It's a way out," Lomas said. "But I can't understand the fellow."
"Oh, I don't understand it all," Reggie admitted. "He was out to kill his brother. That meant being Emperor. But why kill him now more than before? And the Archduchess. She is straight enough, I know. But just how she was to this fellow I don't see."
"There's not much in that," Lomas said. "Maurice couldn't stand the Court, and it was common talk he meant to resign the succession. While he was quiet over here in England Leopold felt safe. But lately they tell me Maurice has been making up his mind to go back. Duty to his country, don't you know? The Archduchess was strong against it. She hates all the business of royalty. But Maurice is a resolute sort of fellow even with a woman. Leopold came over to see what he could do. I suppose he set the Archduchess on to make Maurice give up the idea and stay quiet. They worked together - or that's the notion at the Bohemian Embassy. She's a gipsy, what, but she's straight. She is not in this. It wasn't her car. Well, when Leopold found there was nothing doing he set about the murder. He was a bad egg, don't you know? There was a woman in Rome - they kicked him out there. But it was a sound scheme. He had it all straight - except the wrong tyres on his car. Good touch, the hatpin. Seemed like a woman in a rage. He knew a lot about women - one kind of woman."
There was a tap at the door. The two walked forward.
"Sir Lawson Hunter, sir." The footman tried in vain to see the Archduke.
"Yes, bring him up," Reggie said.
Sir Lawson bustled in. " New case for you, sir." The two men moved apart and Sir Lawson saw the body.
"Poisoned himself. Taken strychnine," Lomas said.
"Oh, don't bias him," said Reggie. "He doesn't like that."
"Good Gad!" Sir Lawson's eyes bulged.
"Yes, that beats me. Fortune." Lomas waved his hand at the body. "I would have sworn he hadn't the pluck."
"Oh, he hadn't. He meant it for me. I changed the cups."
"- You - " Lomas stared at him. "That was when you heard the car!"
"That was why I heard the car."
"And you let him take the dose!"
"Yes. Seemed fair. You see, I picked up that poor fellow he smashed last night."
"Good Gad!" said Sir Lawson.
The footman was again at the door. Dr. Fortune was wanted at the telephone. "There's one here, isn't there? Put me through." The footman, hardly able to speak at the sight of the dead Archduke, retired gulping.
The bell rang. Reggie took up the receiver. "Yes. Yes, At once," and he put it down. " I must be going. Serious case. Mrs. Jones's little girl may have German measles."

CASE II THE SLEEPING COMPANION
BIRDIE screamed like a sea-gull and leapt on to the stage. The audience rumbled the usual applause, and Dr. Reginald Fortune put up his opera-glasses. He considered himself a connoisseur in the art of music halls, and Birdie Bolton was unique and bizarre. She was no longer young, and had never been pretty. A helmet of black hair, a gaunt face which never smiled, a body as lean as a boy's, which sometimes slouched and sometimes jerked - such were her charms. She wore nothing much above the waist but diamonds, and below it barbaric flounces in a maze of colour. She began to sing in a voice wildly unfit for the strange creature she looked - a small, sweet voice -