Chapter 1

Dorcas Dene, Detective
Her adventures

_Second Series_

by George R. Sims

Table of Contents
I. THE MISSING PRINCE
II. THE MORGANATIC WIFE
III. THE HOUSE IN REGENT'S PARK
IV. THE CO-RESPONDENT
V. THE HANDKERCHIEF SACHET
VI. A BANK HOLIDAY MYSTERY
VII. A PIECE OF BROWN PAPER
VIII. PRESENTED TO THE QUEEN
IX. THE ONE WHO KNEW

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_I. THE MISSING PRINCE_

I was talking to Mr. Alfred Moul, the amiable manager of the Alhambra,
and complimenting him upon the new decorations of the theatre, but
he was not listening to what I said. I saw at once that he had
something on his mind, so using the privilege of an old friend I
asked him what was worrying him.

"That," he said, pointing to the big box usually reserved for
royalty.

"But there's nobody in it."

"Exactly--that's why I'm worried. I received an intimation
yesterday that the box was to be reserved for his Royal Highness
Prince ---- of ----, who is in London for a few days, and it is now a
quarter to ten and his Royal Highness has not turned up. The ballet
was due to commence at 9.30, and I can't put it off any longer. You'll
excuse me, won't you--I must go and tell Jacobi to start the overture--
I can't keep a packed house waiting for a foreign prince if he _is_
the heir to a throne!"

Mr. Moul left me, and a few minutes later Mr. Jacobi, all smiles,
took the place he has occupied for so many years, and, tapping on his
desk, commenced the long-overdue overture to the gorgeous ballet which
was attracting all London to the Alhambra.

I had come to see Mr. Moul privately on a matter of business. I had
seen the ballet on the night of its production, and so I turned to go
away. As I jostled my way through the crowded promenade I felt a tug
at my coat sleeve, and looking round I recognised a detective
inspector who had assisted Dorcas Dene on one or two occasions, and
to whom I had been introduced at Oak Tree Road.

"Mrs. Dene saw you talking to Mr. Moul just now, Mr. Saxon," he
said, "and she told me to bring you to her."

"Mrs. Dene here," I exclaimed.

"No--she was, but she left. She's waiting for us at the Cavour.
We are going to have some supper, and she hopes you will join us."

A minute later I was seated at a quiet corner table with Dorcas
and Inspector Carr, and the smiling and ever courteous Philippe was
personally attending to our wants, and impressing upon the waiter who
was taking our orders that everything was to be _soigné._

"Now," I said to Dorcas, as soon as the menu had been settled and
the waiter had brought us the wine, "what on earth were you doing at
the Alhambra?"

"I went to see if the Prince was going to occupy his box."

"And he didn't. I really don't see what personal interest you can
have in the matter, which after all is not a very remarkable one.
Probably his Royal Highness has another engagement and couldn't get
away."

Dorcas looked at the inspector, and the inspector replied for her.

"The fact is, Mr. Saxon," he said, "Mrs. Dene and myself are trying
to fathom one of the greatest mysteries of modern times, and we've
just come to the point where we want the assistance of a linguist.
Mrs. Dene, directly she saw you at the Alhambra, said you were the
very man to help us."

"I am very much obliged," I replied, nodding gratefully to Dorcas,
"but it is evidently a police matter by your being concerned in it,
and you have plenty of linguists on the staff at the Yard?"

"Yes, and as a matter of fact they are, most of them, at the
present moment busily engaged in trying to solve the mystery for
themselves. But I am particularly anxious to score in this matter,
and being sure that the others are quite on the wrong scent, I went
to Mrs. Dene, for whose talents you know I have always had an intense
admiration, and told her the case and my view. She started another
theory altogether, and I was so struck by it that I abandoned mine
and took hers up. That is why we were together at the Alhambra when
we so fortunately discovered you."

"I _am_ a bit of a linguist," I replied when the inspector had
finished, "but Greek is not one of my accomplishments, and up to
the present, all you have said is Greek to me. Tell me what the case
is in plain English."

Dorcas laughed. "In plain English," she said, "his Royal Highness
Prince ---- of ---- left his hotel yesterday evening unaccompanied by
any member of the small suite he has with him, and he has not been
seen or heard of since."

"A Royal Prince lost in London!" I exclaimed, dropping the piece
of grilled fowl which I had just raised on my fork. "Impossible! That
sort of thing can only happen in a new Arabian Night."

"There is so little impossibility about it," said the inspector
gravely, "that the suite are distracted. The news has been telegraphed
to the Prince's relatives, and communications are passing hourly
between the secret police of ---- and our chiefs. There are
twenty detectives at the present moment searching London, in the
hope of discovering his Royal Highness's whereabouts. This morning,
immediately on receipt of the news, the chief of the police in the
Prince's capital, accompanied by half a dozen officers, started for
England."

"But there has been nothing in the newspapers?"

"No--so far the secret has been admirably kept. There are strong
political reasons why the matter should not be divulged. The Prince
is the heir to the throne, and the rumour that he had disappeared
might lead to the gravest consequences in his capital."

"But after all," I said, "it may not be serious. The Prince is
young--if report speaks truly, he is also flighty, and fond of
adventure. He may be amusing himself."

"No," said Dorcas, emphatically, "that story won't hold water for
a moment. Had he intended to absent himself for private amusement, he
would certainly have communicated with the distinguished officer who
is in attendance upon him. He would know that his absence would cause
alarm, and lead to police inquiries, and he would not risk that. His
Royal Highness is _unable_ to communicate the reason of his mysterious
absence, and therefore he must be either lying somewhere too ill to
make his identity known, or he must be in the power of those who
prevent him from sending a message."

"How did he go out--in what dress?" I asked.

"In ordinary evening dress. He speaks English fluently, and knows
London fairly well. Princes do not carry large sums of money about
with them, because they are not in the habit of paying cash. His
valet declares that he had not more than five pounds in money about
him at the most."

"Did he say where he was going when he went out?"

"No. It was ten o'clock. He had dined quietly in his apartments
at the hotel--our own Royal Family, you know, are all away from
London--and after dinner he said he was going for a stroll
through the streets. He did not desire to be accompanied by
anyone."

"And no one has seen him since he left the hotel last night?"

"No one, so far as can be ascertained. He is not sufficiently well
known to attract special attention as a prince, and in evening dress
he would pass easily as an ordinary English gentleman. But from ten
last night until the present moment all trace of him has been lost.
He has dropped completely and suddenly out of existence."

We had finished our supper, and M. Philippe had ordered us some
coffee, and had brought us a bottle of liqueur brandy from the Emperor
Napoleon's cellar, and Dorcas had given us permission to light our
cigarettes.

"Well," I said, after I had puffed my smoke into several rings, and
gazed thoughtfully into the centre of each, "the Prince has
disappeared, the entire detective force of London has started in hot
pursuit of him, but Mrs. Dorcas Dene and Mr. Inspector Carr are going
to find him. When?"

"To-night, we hope," replied Dorcas, shaking her head as the
inspector offered to fill her liqueur glass.

"That's all right; and you have done me the distinguished honour
of inviting me to join in the search because I speak one or two
foreign languages. What language do you want me to speak?"

"None."

I stared in astonishment. "If I am to speak none, what use will
my knowledge be to you?"

"You can listen," replied Dorcas, "and tell us afterwards what you
have heard. It may be in French, it may be in German, it may be in
Italian."

"I understand. But how are you going to arrange that people shall
talk in these languages before me, and on the subject in which you
are interested?"

"That is Mr. Carr's task," said Dorcas. "He will introduce you
into certain society this evening and arrange for your safety."

"And you really think we shall unravel the mystery of the Prince's
disappearance to-night?"

"I hope so. But whether we shall be able to manage entirely by
ourselves depends upon how far my theory is correct. Inspector Carr
wants to bring off a big thing, you see. He wants to be able to
inform his Chief that Prince ---- of ---- is back at the hotel, and
have all the credit of having restored the heir to the throne of ----
to his friends without the slightest reference to his disappearance
finding its way into the Press."

"The truth is, Mr. Saxon, that my Chief has given this job to the
foreign lot at the Yard, and I can't see that they are any cleverer
than we Englishmen. I want an English detective to do this job,
because it's a very big one, and there's a lot hanging to it. I want
to show them that an English detective is quite as clever as a
foreigner, and I think, with Mrs. Dene's help, and you to do the
'lingo,' I may pull it off. At any rate, we'll have a good try. I'm
working with Dorcas Dene, and I reckon she's worth all the foreigners
in our place put together."

"That's a very big compliment you are paying me, Mr. Carr," said
Dorcas, smiling. "However, I think my information with regard to the
Prince has been of some use to you, and if my idea _is_ correct, we
may not have such a difficult task after all. But we'd better be
going."

The inspector wanted to pay the bill, but I insisted on making the
supper mine, and having bidden Philippe good-night, we took our
departure.

In Leicester Square we found a four-wheeled cab waiting for us.
Directly we were in the cab the detective handed me a revolver.

"You'd better slip that into your pocket in case of accidents,"
he said, "but don't use it if you can help."

The cab went on for a little while, and then stopped suddenly,
and looking out of the window I saw we were in Soho Square.

The inspector asked us to get out, and we walked round the square,
we two smoking, and Dorcas between us. The square was in darkness
and quite deserted, as Soho Square generally is late at night.

Presently we saw a female coming slowly round the square. Dorcas
took my arm and led me across the road. The detective went on into
the shadow, and the female figure stopped close by him.

"What is it?" I said. "Does this woman know where the Prince is?"

"No, she hasn't an idea what we are after. She is the English wife
of a foreign Anarchist who lives in London. Mr. Carr knows her. She
is devotedly attached to her husband, and at the present moment she
is bargaining for his life."

"For his life?"

"Yes, he is wanted by the foreign police. Carr found out two or three
days ago where to lay his hand on him. If he is taken and sent back to
Madrid, where he was concerned in an outrage, his death is a certainty.
I advised Mr. Carr to get at the wife and make terms. I wanted certain
information to act upon to-night. If she gives that information it may
be the means of our finding the Prince. For that information Mr. Carr
is promising the poor creature that her husband shall be allowed to
escape."

"Can you promise that?"

"Yes--our Government won't mind letting off an Anarchist if
the result is what I confidently anticipate it will be."

"And that result----?"

"Will be the execution of five of the most dangerous men in Europe."

"Are they all in London, then--these five men?"

"No, they are all in prison on the Continent. They are to be executed
the day after to-morrow at seven o'clock in the morning."

"You mean the five Anarchists concerned in the ---- outrage. What
on earth can all this have to do with the mysterious disappearance
of Prince ---- of ---- in London?"

"If I am wrong in _my_ theory--nothing. If I am right--everything.
But here comes the inspector, and I hope with good news."

There was no doubt about the nature of the detective's news. His first
words settled that. "Got 'em," he said, "but we must make haste, the
meeting's at one o'clock."

"Where?" said Dorcas.

"Round the watchman's fire where the road's up in Kennington Lane.
Old Charley's information as to their last meeting was correct, you
see."

"Excellent! Then now the arrangements you made this afternoon in
anticipation will have to be carried out?"

"Yes--I told you if your idea was right I could guess the gang that
were in it. I saw old Charley the watchman, and told him I'd give him
a fiver to let me hide, but of course it wouldn't have been any good,
because I don't understand their language, but Mr. Saxon can manage
that splendidly."

I began to realise what was expected of me, and I didn't relish
the situation.

"It's all right," said the inspector; "the only light is old Charley's
bucket of coke and the dull red lamps on the barriers. You'll be
railed off with poles lying in a hole in the roadway and a tarpaulin
over that, and the tilted-up truck that he makes his shelter with
will be in front of you--and I shall be there with you, so there's
not the slightest occasion for alarm. If it comes to that I'll have
a couple of plain clothes men round the corner out of sight ready to
run up when I whistle, but of course I want to avoid that if possible.
All I want to do to-night is to know what these men say--not to take
any of them."

"But are you sure you can rely on the watchman--he might betray us!"

"Not a bit of it. He lodged in a house with one of them--that's how
they got to know him. They come and sit on a plank across two barrels
in front of the fire and talk. All he gets out of them is a sup at the
brandy bottle and some baccy. I've promised him a fiver. Come along."

We got into the cab again, and I began to clutch my revolver. I was
half sorry I had gone to the Alhambra. I couldn't back out of the
thing now without appearing a coward.

Dorcas, I think, guessed I was nervous, and reassured me. She had
every confidence in the inspector, who was an old hand with desperate
men, and she was sure I was quite safe with him. She strongly advised
no extra aid being had, as it would cause delay. After all, there
were three of us, for the watchman would be on the side of the police.

When we got to within a couple of streets of the place, we got out.
Dorcas was to keep the cab, and drive to a square in the neighbourhood
and wait for us. The cab was driven by her regular man, so that she
would be all right.

* * * * * *

It was half-past twelve when the inspector, after a short and
hurried conversation with a night-watchman sitting in front of his
coke fire where the road was up in Kennington Lane, pointed out to us
our place of concealment. We had to get down into the cavity commenced
for the re-drainage. Fortunately it was deep enough for us to stand
upright in. The tarpaulin was not necessary. By placing a couple of
planks across with a space between we were completely hidden. The men
might have walked over our heads and never suspected our presence.

Old Charley, by the detective's directions, shifted his truck and
his fire back so as to bring the plank on which the men would sit
quite close to our hiding-place. They would sit with their backs
towards us. Buttoning our over-coats closely to we descended into
our quarters, and were duly planked in.

It seemed an hour before there were signs of an arrival, but the
conspirators were punctual, for as the clock was striking one they
commenced to arrive. I guessed there were four of them by the
different voices I heard. One, I gathered from the conversation,
which was entirely in French, had arrived from Manchester only a
couple of hours previously, in obedience to a telegram which had been
sent him.

The conversation was not particularly intelligible to me at first.
The men made mysterious allusions which would have been puzzling to
me in English, but which in a foreign language were absolutely beyond
my comprehension.

At first they muttered a good deal, the habit of caution being strong
upon them, but gradually they became animated, and secure in the
impossibility of Old Charley understanding a word they said, and the
utter loneliness of the place at that hour in the morning, they began
to talk with greater freedom and in a louder tone.

Their conversation was principally directed to the fate of their
comrades, the five Anarchists who were lying under sentence of death,
and whose execution was a matter now of some thirty hours.

"We will save them," said the man who seemed to be the ruling spirit;
"our brave comrades shall not die--we may even compel the Government
to set them secretly at liberty."

The man from Manchester, who was evidently considerably in the dark
as yet, said he was glad to hear it, but what did they propose to
do--threaten to blow up London or Paris, or what?

"No," replied the leader, "threats are of no avail. We have tried
all that, and the only result is that the friends of Anarchy are
everywhere driven out by the police authorities, and many of those
who have to fly are innocent men and only with us in sympathy."

"Then what will you do?" asked the Manchester Anarchist. "We are
a thousand miles away. What can we in London do to paralyse the arm
of a foreign government?"

"Hold a hostage," growled the leader, and the others growled in
approval.

"And where are you to find the hostage?"

"We _have_ found him. That is why we have summoned you, who are one
of the Council of Determination for England."

"Found a hostage--it must be a big one to save our comrades."

"It is a big one. We have done a thing which will ring through the
world, and make the Governments of Europe grow pale, and tyrants
tremble on their thrones. We have at our mercy the heir to the throne
of ----."

I gripped the detective's arm in my excitement.

"Prince ---- at your mercy! Yes, I remember he is in London. You
will threaten to assassinate him--but that is no good. He will be
watched and guarded--the police will surround him day and night."

"It is too late. He is already our prisoner."

"Your prisoner! Bravo--bravissimo! But, thunder of Heaven, how
have you done that?"

"We have done it--it is enough."

"And where is he? If he has disappeared the police must be moving
heaven and earth to find him--if they suspect us every Anarchist
in England will be arrested."

"They do not suspect us. The fools! they do not see our object.
They think he has gone out of his mind or slipped off with a woman.
We have heard their foreign spies talking. Ha! ha! what fools they
are!"

"Then you have him safe where he is not likely to be found or to
escape?"

"He will not be found. He cannot escape."

"Good. Then what do we do next?--for the hour draws near. There is
but to-morrow between our comrades and the vengeance of the tyrants."

"To-morrow morning I telegraph in our agreed secret language to a
comrade in France. He telegraphs from a small post-office in the
country where they do not understand English his message in English
to the Prince's father: 'If our five comrades do not receive a
remission of the death sentence by midnight, and that remission is
announced by official publication, of which our comrade in your
capital will acquaint us, you have signed the death warrant of your
son. He is in our power, and he will be assassinated at the hour
fixed for the execution of our comrades. If you attempt to betray
us or make use of this message, we may be taken, but your son will
have ceased to live. Decide!"

"Excellent!" said the Anarchist from Manchester, "but the Prince's
father has no power over the ---- Government. They may execute our
comrades all the same."

"No--the Prince is married to the sister of the Queen of ----. She
cannot sign the death warrant of her sister's husband."

"And if our comrades are reprieved?"

The Prince, if he gives us his oath to remain silent and give the
police no clue which might lead to our identification, shall have
his liberty. Are we not generous?"

"Too generous to the tyrants! Ah, it would be good to keep this
royal scamp and hang him--I would be the hangman for nothing!"

"Our programme is settled then," said the leader. "Now each to his
home a separate way. The police may tumble by accident on the truth,
and it is well to be cautious and keep apart. I will see to the
sending of the message at once. I will go to one of the chief offices
that are open all night. I had to wait for the Council of Four--now
we are agreed, I can act."

We heard the men move, and bid old Charley, who little suspected
that he had been witness to a plot for the murder of the heir to a
European throne--not one of the first importance, but a throne
for all that--good night, and presently the last sound of
footsteps had died away.

Then we crept out of our hiding-place, knowing that the darkness of
the night covered us, and I told the inspector what I had heard.

"Great Heaven!" he exclaimed, "then Dorcas Dene was right after all.
The Prince has been kidnapped by desperate Anarchists, and his life
is at their mercy. Let us go to her at once. I am not sure, seeing
how desperate the case is, that I dare keep this to myself--I ought
to report it to my chief at once."

We found Dorcas and told her, and the inspector explained that he
thought he ought to return to the Yard at once and report everything.

Dorcas looked up at the great detective quietly.

"I shouldn't do that if I were you," she said. "We should be losing
time. It will be much better for you to find the Prince yourself
and set him at liberty."

"But how--how can we find him?"

"It is simplicity itself," replied Dorcas, "now we know that four men
have the secret. If you do as I suggest I think we shall have his
Royal Highness sleeping a great deal more comfortably to-morrow night
than he is at present."

Suddenly Dorcas grasped the inspector's arm.

"Look--that man--at the corner yonder. He is watching us."

The detective gave a quick glance. "It is the girl's husband!" he
cried. "He was one of them."

_II. THE MORGANATIC WIFE_

The place was deserted.

The figure of the watching Anarchist, which for a moment had stood
out clear and distinct as he came momentarily into the light of the
opposite lamp-post, was now scarcely visible. He had drawn back and
stood in the shadow of a doorway.

"He doesn't know we've seen him," said Dorcas under her breath.
"If he knew he would have moved further away than that."

"Yes--but he's evidently watching us for some reason," exclaimed the
Inspector. "The men separated and went in different directions--old
Charley told us so when we came out of our hiding-place. Why has
Vossche taken up his station there?"

"The explanation probably is that his road lay this way--he noticed
a four-wheel cab stopping here and wondered what it was doing.
Anarchism is a desperate game, and the men who play it see a possible
danger in everything. He wanted to satisfy himself why the cab was
waiting, and saw you and Mr. Saxon come across. He may know you or
he may not, but he evidently means to keep here till we drive off."

"And what can he do then?"

"That depends. If he has recognised you as a Scotland Yard man he
will at once take means to communicate with the others and inform
them of the suspicious circumstances. But he may follow us."

"How can he? We're riding and he's on foot."

"The best thing for us to do is to drive off slowly. We shall find
out then if he means following us and how he is going to do it."

Dorcas put her head out of the off-side window and said to the
driver in a low voice, "Go on slowly."

The man gathered his reins together and let the horse go his own pace.

In a minute or two there was a slight jar on the springs behind.

"I thought he'd do that," said Dorcas, quietly pulling the window up
so that the sound of our voices could not be carried outside. "Now
you two, get ready. Turn the handles of the doors quietly and get
ready to spring out. You can do it safely at the pace we're going,
which is only a crawl. By the time you are out the man will be level
with you or a foot or two ahead. Before he can jump off you can seize
both his arms and secure him."

"We shan't get anything out of him," said the detective. "He's a
desperate fellow, and would die rather than betray the cause."

"At any rate we can prevent him giving the others the tip. A hint
to them that a Scotland Yard man had been seen in the neighbourhood
of their meeting place to-night might be fatal to our chances of
finding the Prince. Are you ready?"

We turned the door handles noiselessly.

"Now," said Dorcas, and the next minute we had made a jump for the
roadway. I nearly fell, but recovered myself as the astonished cabman
pulled up short. In a second the Inspector had Jean Vossche by one
arm, and before he could cry out I had him by the other. As we dragged
him from his uncomfortable perch he struggled like a madman, and we
had to use both our hands to hold him.

Dorcas stepped quietly out of the cab, and came to our assistance.
Slipping her hand into my pocket she pulled out the revolver and
pressed the cold muzzle to the Anarchist's forehead.

"Don't make a noise," she said, "and please don't move. I'm not
used to firearms, and it might go off."

The man, recovering himself with an effort, gasped out in broken
English, "What I do?--I only ride behind your dam cab! Let me go!"

"Sorry we can't oblige you, Mr. Jean Vossche. We've room for one
inside--you'll be much more comfortable there. But as it's dark,
and you're a reckless sort of beggar, I'll just slip the darbies on
you. I didn't know I should want them, but 'It's always handy to have
'em in the house,' as the song says."

With a dexterity born of long practice, Inspector Carr slipped the
handcuffs on his prisoner, and taking the revolver from Dorcas,
politely pointed to the interior of the cab.

"He'll kick a bit, perhaps," said the Inspector to Dorcas. "You'd
better get up by the driver. I'm going to deposit him at the nearest
police-station--there's one just round the corner."

"Then I'll walk," said Dorcas, "and join you there. Do you know
the officer on duty?"

"If I don't he'll know me. We can have a chat with our friend if
you want it, but he's safer within four walls."

We assisted Mr. Jean Vossche into the cab and got in with him.
The Inspector gave the cabman the address of the nearest
police-station, and Dorcas walked on.

Ten minutes later Inspector Carr had explained the situation to
the officer on duty at the police-station, and Mr. Jean Vossche,
still manacled, was accommodated with a chair in the Inspector's
office, into which presently Dorcas Dene was introduced.

Her first request was that the man might be taken outside for the
present. Two constables were called in and the prisoner removed.

"Now, Mr. Carr," said Dorcas, "you've got to decide what we are
going to do at once.