Chapter XVIII: A Shot in the Street

She went to the door and looked out. Walking slowly along the opposite sidewalk was a short, stout man, with a long black beard. If he were not a clergyman, the janitor’s mistake was pardonable, for his clothes were of the severest black, and on his head was a low-crowned hat such as ministers wear. She thought a moment, then:

“Will you ask him to come over, Jones?” she said.

A few minutes later the stage doorkeeper returned, ushering in the bearded stranger.

“Are you Miss Carew?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m Miss Carew. You wished to see me?”

His voice was strangely familiar. She had heard it before somewhere, but, racking her brains, she could not recall a meeting.

“Yes, I wished to see you.” He hesitated. “My name is--” again he paused--“Brother John. At least, I’m called Brother John by my friends.”

He had the slightest trace of an American accent, she thought. And she knew him! She was certain they had met somewhere, but for the life of her she could not remember.

The janitor had discreetly retired to his box.

“You are Dr. Laffin’s ward, are you not?”

She nodded.

“And you are an actress, too, Miss Carew?”

“Yes, I am an actress,” she said, wondering what was coming next.

“Am I wrong in believing that you were the lady who appeared as lately as yesterday in the window of a store on Duke Street?”

Betty flushed.

“Yes, I am that unfortunate individual,” she said, with a little smile. “I hope you haven’t come to buy a desk?”

“No, Miss Carew, I have come on no such mission; but I would like to ask you, if it is permissible--and I realise that I may be going beyond the bounds of pertinence--why you undertook that extraordinary work?”

Her first inclination was to return a discouraging reply, but there was such a queer anxiety in his face that she changed her mind.

“I went there at the request of Dr. Laffin,” she said.

“Did Dr. Laffin take you into his confidence?” he asked. And then, hastily: “I mean, do you know why you were so employed?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” she answered shortly. “The only thing I am certain about is, that in no circumstances would I again endure such misery as I suffered during the very short time I was on exhibition.”

“Was there… was it part of your duties to give a message to somebody who called?” he asked.

Without hesitation she nodded.

“I fear you think that I am an impertinent man,” said Brother John, “but this matter touches me very dearly, and involves the peace and happiness of one for whom I have a very deep affection, and I am sure that, when you realise this, you will forgive what may seem the unpardonable liberty I am taking.”

“Perhaps you will tell me something?” she replied. “What was in Dr. Laffin’s mind when he asked me to undertake that work?”

He shook his head.

“I am afraid I can’t tell you that,” he said.

“You are a priest, aren’t you?” she asked.

He shook his head sadly.

“No, Madam, I am not a priest. I was an ordained priest of the Episcopal Church, but I was--unfrocked, for holding views which met with the disapproval of my bishop.”

He held out his hand, and she took it.

“I am very glad that you knew nothing,” he said simply, and before she could frame another question he was gone.

When she came out into the street she saw his broad shoulders vanish round the corner of the block. The mystery of the desk-selling proposition had become so intensified, that to think about it any more was sheer madness. So she was telling herself, when a voice hailed her, and she turned to meet Mr. William Holbrook, miraculously tidy and presentable.

“I have been chasing you along from De Fell’s,” he said. “I wanted to see you before that old doctor man starts asking you questions.”

“About the burglary?” she asked quickly.

Bill’s face fell. “You’ve seen him, then?”

“I haven’t seen him,” she smiled, “but I’ve seen Lord Lowbridge, and he told me what had happened. Of course, it is too ridiculous for words! You hadn’t an opportunity----”

“Did you mention the fact that I was in the house?” he asked anxiously, and, when she told him she had, he whistled.

“I can see myself getting pinched,” he said.

She interrupted him.

“Mr. Holbrook,” she said, acting on a sudden impulse, “have you any idea why I was put into that wretched window to sell desks?” And, before he could answer, she told him of the interview she had just had with Brother John.

Bill listened, and scratched his head.

“That is a new one,” he said. “But just tell me about that message?”

She wished now that she had not taken him into her confidence, but it was futile to leave half the story untold, and briefly she described the mysterious individual in sandals and cassock, who had come from the crowd, and who had received a very commonplace letter with such marks of reverence.

“And I’m sure I know Brother John. I’ve heard his voice before, but, however hard I try, I cannot place him.”

Bill Holbrook thought quickly.

“Which way did Brother John go?” he asked, and, when she indicated the direction: “Do you mind if I walk with you?”

“I can survive the contamination of your company if you can survive mine,” said Betty drily. “Unless my memory is at fault, you objected to my compromising society last night.”

“I was known in that neighbourhood,” said Bill, unabashed. “Here I am a comparative stranger. Gee! I’d like to lay hands on that bearded padre. There _is_ a big story in this stunt of the doctor’s.

“I’m going to get this story right,” he went on, and stopped suddenly.

Ahead of him a small crowd had congregated on the sidewalk. Over the heads of the people he saw the helmets of two policemen.

“Just one moment,” he said, and ran on ahead of her.

Pushing his way through the crowd, he came to a clear space, where a man lay on his back, his arms outstretched, a look of peace upon his white face.

“Shot!” said an excited voice in his ear. “Shot dead… and in the street, too! Just a _plop!_ Shot fired from a car… used a silencer…”

One glance he gave, and then, elbowing back to the girl, he caught her by the arm, and dragged her back to the space in the centre where the dead man lay.

“Who is that?” he asked softly.

She looked and screamed. It was Brother John!