The Albert Gate Mystery | Page 4

price. Do you follow me?"
"Each word."
"Good. Well--I can't tell you why, because I don't know, and I could
not understand it if I did--there was some political importance attached
to these gems, and the Sultan roped our Foreign Office into it. So the
Foreign Office placed Jack in charge of the business. He fixed up the
Envoy in the house at Albert Gate, got a lot of diamond cutters and
machinery for him, gave him into the charge of all the smart policemen
in London; and what do you think is the upshot?"
"What?"
"The Envoy, his two secretaries, and a confidential servant were
murdered the night before last, the diamonds were stolen, and Jack has
vanished--absolutely gone clean into space, not a sign of him to be
found anywhere. Yesterday Edith sends for me, cries for half an hour,
tells me I'm the best fellow that ever lived, and then I'm jiggered if she
didn't wind up by saying that she couldn't marry me."
The Earl of Fairholme was now worked up to fever heat. He would not
calm down for an appreciable period, so Brett resolved to try the effect
of curiosity.
He wrote a telegram to Lord Northallerton:--
"Very sorry, but I cannot leave town at present. Please ask me later.
Will explain reason for postponement when we meet."
He had touched the dominant note in mankind.

"Surely!" cried the earl, "you have not already decided upon a course of
action?"
"Not exactly. I am wiring to postpone a shooting fixture."
"What a beastly shame!" exclaimed the other, in whom the sporting
instinct was at once aroused. "I'm awfully sorry my affairs should
interfere with your arrangements in this way."
"Not a bit," cried Brett. "I make it a sacred rule of life to put pleasure
before business. I mean," he explained, as a look of bewilderment
crossed his hearer's face, "that this quest of ours promises to be the
most remarkable affair I have ever been engaged in. That pleases me.
Pheasant-shooting is a serious business, governed by the calendar and
arranged by the head-keeper."
An electric bell summoned Smith. The barrister handed him the
telegram and a sovereign.
"Read that message," he said. "Ponder over it. Send it, and give the
change of the sovereign to Mrs. Smith's brother, with my compliments
and regrets."
CHAPTER II
MEHEMET ALI'S NOTE
Then he turned to Lord Fairholme.
"Just one question," he said, "before I send you off to bed. No, you
must not protest. I want you to meet me here this evening at seven, with
your brain clear and your nerves restored by a good, sound sleep. We
will dine, here or elsewhere, and act subsequently. But at this moment I
want to know the name of the person most readily accessible who can
tell me all about Mr. Talbot's connection with the Sultan's agent."
"His sister, undoubtedly."

"Where can I find her?"
"At Ulster Gardens. I will drive you there."
The barrister smiled. "You are going to bed, I tell you. Give me a few
lines of introduction to Miss Talbot."
The earl's face had brightened at the prospect of meeting his fiancée
under the favourable conditions of Brett's presence. But he yielded with
good grace, and promptly sat down to write a brief note explanatory of
the barrister's identity and position in the inquiry.
The two parted at the door, and a hansom rapidly brought Brett to the
residence of Sir Hubert Fitzjames.
A stately footman took Reggie's card and its accompanying letter,
placed them on a salver with a graceful turn of his wrist, which oddly
suggested a similar turn in his nose, and said:
"Miss Talbot is not at home, sir."
"Yes, she is," answered Brett, paying the driver of the hansom.
The footman deigned to exhibit astonishment. Here was a
gentleman--one obviously accustomed to the manners of Society--who
declined to accept the courteous disclaimer of an unexpected visit.
"Miss Talbot is not receiving visitors," he explained.
"Exactly. Take that card and the letter to Miss Talbot and bring me the
answer."
Jeames was no match for his antagonist. He silently showed the way
into a reception room and disappeared. A minute later he announced,
with much deference, that Miss Talbot would see Mr. Brett in the
library, and he conducted this mysterious visitor upstairs.
On rejoining Buttons in the hall he solemnly observed:

"That's a swell cop who is with the missus--shining topper, button-hole,
buckskin gloves, patent leathers, all complete. Footmen ain't in it with
the force, nowadays."
Jeames expanded his magnificent waistcoat with a heavy sigh over this
philosophical dictum, the poignancy of which was enhanced by his
knowledge that the upper housemaid had taken to conversing with a
mounted policeman in the Park during her afternoons off.
The apartment in