The Rayner-Slade Amalgamation | Page 6

bring to light. A watch and chain--the
small pocket articles which every man carries--keys, a monocle
eyeglass, a purse full of gold, loose silver, a note-case containing a
considerable sum in bank-notes, some English, some foreign, letters
and papers, a pocket diary--these were all. Allerdyke took each as
Gaffney produced them, and placed each in the bag with no more than
a mere glance.
"Everything there is, sir," whispered the chauffeur at last. "I've been
through every pocket."
Allerdyke found the key of the bag, locked it, and set it aside on the
mantelpiece. Then he went over to the suit-case lying on the bench at
the foot of the bed, closed and locked it, and dropped the bunch of keys
in his pocket. And just then Dr. Lydenberg came back, dressed, and on
his heels came the manager of the hotel, startled and anxious, and with
him an elderly professional-looking man whom he introduced as Dr.
Orwin.
When James Allerdyke's dead body had been lifted on to the bed, and
the two medical men had begun a whispered conversation beside it,
Allerdyke drew the hotel manager aside to a corner of the room.
"Did you see anything of my cousin when he arrived last night?" he
asked.
"Not when he arrived--no," replied the manager. "But later--yes. I had
some slight conversation with him after he had taken supper. It was
nothing much--he merely wished to know if there was always a
night-porter on duty. He said he expected a friend, who might turn up
at any hour of the night, and he wanted to leave a card for him. That
would be you, I suppose, sir?"
"Just so," replied Allerdyke. "Now, how did he seem at that time? And
what time was that?"

"Ten o'clock," said the manager. "Seem? Well, sir, he seemed to be in
the very best of health and spirits! I was astonished to hear that he was
dead. I never saw a man look more like living. He was--"
The elderly doctor came away from the bed approaching Allerdyke.
"After hearing what Dr. Lydenberg tells me, and examining the body--a
mere perfunctory examination as yet, you know--I have little doubt that
this gentleman died of what is commonly called heart failure," he said.
"There will have to be an inquest, of course, and it may be advisable to
make a post-mortem examination. You are a relative?" "Cousin,"
replied Allerdyke. He hesitated a moment, and then spoke bluntly.
"You don't think it's been a case of poisoning, do you?" he said.
Dr. Orwin pursed his lips and regarded his questioner narrowly.
"Self-administered, do you mean?" he asked.
"Administered any way," answered Allerdyke. "Self or otherwise." He
squared his shoulders and spoke determinedly. "I don't understand
about this heart-failure notion," he went on. "I never heard him
complain of his heart. He was a strong, active man--hearty and full of
go. I want to know--everything."
"There should certainly be an autopsy," murmured Dr. Orwin. He
turned and looked at his temporary colleague, who nodded as if in
assent. Then he turned back to Allerdyke. "If you'll leave us for a while,
we will just make a further examination--then we'll speak to you later."
Allerdyke signified his assent with a curt nod of the head.
Accompanied by the manager and Gaffney he left the room, and with
him he carried the small hand-bag in which he had placed the dead
man's personal effects.
CHAPTER III
THE SHOE BUCKLE

Once outside the death-chamber, Allerdyke asked the manager to give
him a bedroom with a sitting-room attached to it, and to put Gaffney in
another room close by--he should be obliged, he said, to stay at the
hotel until the inquest was over and arrangements had been made for
his cousin's funeral. The manager at once took him to a suite of three
rooms at the end of the corridor which they were then in. Allerdyke
took it at once, sent Gaffney down to bring up certain things from the
car, and detained the manager for a moment's conversation.
"I suppose you'd a fair lot of people come in last night from that
Christiania boat?" he asked.
"Some fifteen or twenty," answered the manager.
"Did you happen to see my cousin in conversation with any of them?"
inquired Allerdyke.
The manager shrugged his shoulders. He was not definitely sure about
that; he had a notion that he had seen Mr. James Allerdyke talking with
some of the Perisco passengers, but the notion was vague.
"You know how it is," he went on. "People come in--they stand about
talking in the hall--groups, you know--they go from one to another. I
think I saw him talking to that doctor who's in there now with Dr.
Orwin--the man with the big beard--and to a lady