The Agony Column [22]
"
Her voice broke and she took out a handkerchief. Again that odor of lilacs in the room.
"For a time I saw the captain often in London; and then I began to notice a change. Back among his own kind, with the lonely days in India a mere memory - he seemed no longer to - to care for me. Then - last Thursday morning - he called on me to tell me that he was through; that he would never see me again - in fact, that he was to marry a girl of his own people who had been waiting - "
The woman looked piteously about at us.
"I was desperate," she pleaded. "I had given up all that life held for me - given it up for a man who now looked at me coldly and spoke of marrying another. Can you wonder that I went in the evening to his rooms - went to plead with him - to beg, almost on my knees? It was no use. He was done with me - he said that over and over. Overwhelmed with blind rage and despair, I snatched up that knife from the table and plunged it into his heart. At once I was filled with remorse. I - "
"One moment," broke in Hughes. "You may keep the details of your subsequent actions until later. I should like to compliment you, Countess. You tell it better each time."
He came over and faced Bray. I thought there was a distinct note of hostility in his voice.
"Checkmate, Inspector!" he said. Bray made no reply. He sat there staring up at the colonel, his face turned to stone.
"The scarab pin," went on Hughes, "is not yet forthcoming. We are tied for honors, my friend. You have your confession, but I have one to match it."
"All this is beyond me," snapped Bray.
"A bit beyond me, too," the colonel answered. "Here are two people who wish us to believe that on the evening of Thursday last, at half after six of the clock, each sought out Captain Fraser-Freer in his rooms and murdered him."
He walked to the window and then wheeled dramatically.
"The strangest part of it all is," he added, "that at six-thirty o'clock last Thursday evening, at an obscure restaurant in Soho - Frigacci's - these two people were having tea together !"
I must admit that, as the colonel calmly offered this information, I suddenly went limp all over at a realization of the endless maze of mystery in which we were involved. The woman gave a little cry and Lieutenant Fraser-Freer leaped to his feet.
"How the devil do you know that?" he cried.
"I know it," said Colonel Hughes, "because one of my men happened to be having tea at a table near by. He happened to be having tea there for the reason that ever since the arrival of this lady in London, at the request of - er - friends in India, I have been keeping track of her every move; just as I kept watch over your late brother, the captain."
Without a word Lieutenant Fraser-Freer dropped into a chair and buried his face in his hands.
"I'm sorry, my son," said Hughes. "Really, I am. You made a heroic effort to keep the facts from coming out - a man's-size effort it was. But the War Office knew long before you did that your brother had succumbed to this woman's lure - that he was serving her and Berlin, and not his own country, England."
Fraser-Freer raised his head. When he spoke there was in his voice an emotion vastly more sincere than that which had moved him when he made his absurd confession.
"The game's up," he said. "I have done all I could. This will kill my father, I am afraid. Ours has been an honorable name, Colonel; you know that - a long line of military men whose loyalty to their country has never before been in question. I thought my confession would and the whole nasty business, that the investigations would stop, and that I might be able to keep forever unknown this horrible thing about him - about my brother."
Colonel Hughes laid his hand on the boy's shoulder, and the latter went on: "They reached me - those frightful insinuations about Stephen - in a round about way; and when he came home from India I resolved to watch him. I saw him go often to the house of this woman. I satisfied myself that she was the same one
Her voice broke and she took out a handkerchief. Again that odor of lilacs in the room.
"For a time I saw the captain often in London; and then I began to notice a change. Back among his own kind, with the lonely days in India a mere memory - he seemed no longer to - to care for me. Then - last Thursday morning - he called on me to tell me that he was through; that he would never see me again - in fact, that he was to marry a girl of his own people who had been waiting - "
The woman looked piteously about at us.
"I was desperate," she pleaded. "I had given up all that life held for me - given it up for a man who now looked at me coldly and spoke of marrying another. Can you wonder that I went in the evening to his rooms - went to plead with him - to beg, almost on my knees? It was no use. He was done with me - he said that over and over. Overwhelmed with blind rage and despair, I snatched up that knife from the table and plunged it into his heart. At once I was filled with remorse. I - "
"One moment," broke in Hughes. "You may keep the details of your subsequent actions until later. I should like to compliment you, Countess. You tell it better each time."
He came over and faced Bray. I thought there was a distinct note of hostility in his voice.
"Checkmate, Inspector!" he said. Bray made no reply. He sat there staring up at the colonel, his face turned to stone.
"The scarab pin," went on Hughes, "is not yet forthcoming. We are tied for honors, my friend. You have your confession, but I have one to match it."
"All this is beyond me," snapped Bray.
"A bit beyond me, too," the colonel answered. "Here are two people who wish us to believe that on the evening of Thursday last, at half after six of the clock, each sought out Captain Fraser-Freer in his rooms and murdered him."
He walked to the window and then wheeled dramatically.
"The strangest part of it all is," he added, "that at six-thirty o'clock last Thursday evening, at an obscure restaurant in Soho - Frigacci's - these two people were having tea together !"
I must admit that, as the colonel calmly offered this information, I suddenly went limp all over at a realization of the endless maze of mystery in which we were involved. The woman gave a little cry and Lieutenant Fraser-Freer leaped to his feet.
"How the devil do you know that?" he cried.
"I know it," said Colonel Hughes, "because one of my men happened to be having tea at a table near by. He happened to be having tea there for the reason that ever since the arrival of this lady in London, at the request of - er - friends in India, I have been keeping track of her every move; just as I kept watch over your late brother, the captain."
Without a word Lieutenant Fraser-Freer dropped into a chair and buried his face in his hands.
"I'm sorry, my son," said Hughes. "Really, I am. You made a heroic effort to keep the facts from coming out - a man's-size effort it was. But the War Office knew long before you did that your brother had succumbed to this woman's lure - that he was serving her and Berlin, and not his own country, England."
Fraser-Freer raised his head. When he spoke there was in his voice an emotion vastly more sincere than that which had moved him when he made his absurd confession.
"The game's up," he said. "I have done all I could. This will kill my father, I am afraid. Ours has been an honorable name, Colonel; you know that - a long line of military men whose loyalty to their country has never before been in question. I thought my confession would and the whole nasty business, that the investigations would stop, and that I might be able to keep forever unknown this horrible thing about him - about my brother."
Colonel Hughes laid his hand on the boy's shoulder, and the latter went on: "They reached me - those frightful insinuations about Stephen - in a round about way; and when he came home from India I resolved to watch him. I saw him go often to the house of this woman. I satisfied myself that she was the same one