Chapter 13

A MEXICAN BEAUTY

Early next morning, Sweetlips Kind was talking to Dr. Browne in the consulting-room of the latter at his Tarhaven house. On tracing the connection of the mysterious word "Tarabacca" with the shawl which had to do with Armour's kidnapping, and which consequently was of a piece with the tragic incident of the "Marsh Inn" crime, the Cheap-jack had postponed his departure. Eager as he was to leave the dangerous neighbourhood of Desleigh, where one and all were on the alert to capture Herries, he thought it well to see what sort of crew manned the yacht referred to by the accused man. Beyond the fact that the oddity of the name had struck him, Herries knew nothing. When the Arctic sealer "Nansen" came to Pierside, the yacht was already berthed by the wharf, and Herries had left his ship so immediately, owing to the persecution of the captain, that he had made no enquiries as to the nationality of the strange vessel. Nor, had he remained on board the "Nansen," would he have so enquired, since the "Tarabacca" did not interest him in the slightest. Now, however, that the yacht's name was on the shawl, and a letter had apparently been addressed to someone on board by the dead man, the subject became one of vital importance.

Dr. Browne, very hopeful as to the future, had returned to Tarhaven by a late train from London, that fortunately stopped for a few moments at Desleigh railway station, and had taken leave of Kind with the understanding that the Cheap-jack was to proceed next day to Pierside, for the purpose of making enquiries about the "Tarabacca." The doctor was therefore surprised when Sweetlips arrived, somewhere about nine o'clock in the morning to continue the conversation broken off on the previous night. He appeared to be in a hurry, and lost no time in explaining.

"It's a rum word, is 'Tarabacca'," remarked Kind, when the maid had left the two alone in the severe-looking apartment.

Browne nodded.

"It sounds like an Indian word," said he, judiciously. "Why not an Indiana word," suggested the Cheap-jack.

"Might belong to South America," agreed the doctor. "There's a sort of Peruvian ring about it. Why?"

Kind asked an irrelevant question.

"Do you remember how I said that you had given me a clue, when we met outside the gates of the 'Moated Hall' park?"

"Yes. I could not understand. I can recall nothing likely to----"

"Hold on a bit, doctor, I'm going to explain now. That Kyles cove----"

"Who is engaged to Miss Tedder. Well?"

"Kyles," explained Sweetlips, with his keen eyes on the medical man, "is an adventurer, and is after Miss Tedder's money, I should say."

"He certainly doesn't seem to be crazy about her."

"No! That sort of chap's only crazy about one person--himself. I know--and you know, from Mr. Ritson,--that Sir Simon didn't approve of the engagement."

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Go on."

"When you talked of Kyles defending Mr. Herries," continued Kind, thinking out his case. "I thought it strange that he should go out of his way to help a chap on whom--as you told me, doctor--he had never set eyes. I guessed that there must be some reason for that--a reason connected with the murder."

"Surely you don't think that Kyles has anything to do with the crime?"

"Don't I, just? That's what I'm driving at. He's a sea-captain, and the coves as kidnapped Armour are sailors----"

"Pooh! Pooh! Armour wasn't sure on that point."

"He saw that one was brass-bound," retorted Sweetlips, "and merchant officers usually go about in their swagger togs to get the women after them. I'm certain that the brass-bound cove was officering a relief party of sailors. If my guess is right, that connects Kyles with them."

"I don't quite see----"

"Oh, it's all theory, of course, but we've got to grope in the dark before we fetch the light, doctor. Kyles is a sailor, and those men who captured Armour are sailors. Very good then; the case stands something in this way. Sir Simon's only daughter and heiress is engaged, against the will of her father, to Kyles, and Sir Simon is unexpectedly murdered. Beforehand, evidently expecting to be killed, he wrote a secret letter to someone on board a boat called the 'Tarabacca,' disinheriting his daughter. Tarabacca is, as you think, an Indian word. Suppose we learn that it is an Indiana word, we've connected Kyles, who is in the service of the Republic, closer with the matter. The marked shawl and the secret letter form the connecting links, don't you see?"

"Humph," assented Browne, somewhat struck by this lucid reasoning, "of course it's all theory. However," he crossed to the book-case, "the matter of the name is easily settled. I have an atlas here."

"I doubt if you'll spot it, doctor. However, we can but try."

And the doctor did try. Turning over the pages, until he came to the map of South America, he searched the portion, coloured yellow, to the far south of the Continent, which represented the tiny republic of Indiana. But no name could be found even distantly resembling the one they were in search of.

"Hold on," said Browne, as Sweetlips shook his head with a disappointed air, "I'll turn up the index. Often names that are not set down on the map, are catalogued there." He ran his finger down the page. "Ta,--Tag,--Tap,--Tar,--here you are, Kind. Tarabacca, Map 45, Lat. 44, Long. 73� 6 E," again he reverted to the map. "Yes. It's certainly in Indiana, for here is the Republic in the latitude referred to. Tarabacca isn't set down here, but as it's in the same latitude, you may depend that it's a town or a lake or a mountain in the Indiana Republic, and the yacht's been named after it."

"Which shows that Kyles is connected with the crime."

"Hold on. That woman I saw in the motor car may have done the deed. It was a woman's shawl, remember, that was used to stifle Armour. She smoked too, and being light, could have climbed the trellis, so that----"

"Yes, yes, but there's usually a woman in every case, and where a woman is a man is certain to be found. Captain Kyles, on the authority of the word, the shawl, and the cigarette, knows this woman and this yacht, therefore, he must have something to do with the crime, as she has. I believe they are accomplices."

"Why not see Captain Kyles, since he is in Tarhaven?

"What, and have him deny everything? Not me, doctor. I'm not sufficiently sure of my facts, sir. I'll go to Pierside on a selling excursion, and spy round that yacht. If I can get speech with the woman of the Lagonda tri-car, I'll shove the shawl under her eyes----"

"The shawl----?"

"I got it from Armour."

"But he had no right to part with it."

"I daresay," rejoined Kind dryly, "but he fancies that Trent will fire him out of the Force, and expecting money from you, on behalf of Herries, he is willing to do anything to save his own position."

"Well," said Browne, rising and glancing at his watch, "it's a chance that something may come of the matter. If you want me, send along and I'll come if I can."

"No. You make some excuse and call at the 'Moated Hall,' so as to keep an eye on Kyles and Miss Tedder."

"I don't like spying."

"You'll have to, if you wish to save Mr. Herries. Remember, those two--the girl and the Captain--will do a lot to stop Herries from inheriting the money."

"He doesn't inherit until he learns who killed his uncle."

"Ah well, he'll have to do that to save his own skin, so he has a double motive. So-long, doctor. Keep your eye peeled."

With this somewhat Colonial farewell, the Cheap-jack took his leave, and made for the railway station. Fortune favoured him, for he caught a train to Pierside within ten minutes, and boarded an empty compartment, so that he could think out the complicated case at his leisure. Kind's heart beat the quicker, as he remembered that he was once more on the warpath, man-hunting. He almost regretted, on experiencing the old thrill, that he had given up thief-catching in deference to the prejudices of Rachel. But on reflection he came to the conclusion that it was better to wander a free man in the country, breathing fresh air, than to be tied to an official post in town, following criminals through the miry ways of crime. Besides, in his unofficial exploitation of the present case--which was about as difficult a mystery to unravel as he had ever chanced upon--he had a perfectly free hand. He therefore felt in very good spirits, and hummed a coon-melody, as he turned over in his pack a few feminine articles, which he thought might open the purse of the woman he wished to see. For apart from the case, Kind was naturally anxious to make a trifle of money, if only to pay his expenses.

Pierside is a busy shipping port, thronged with sailors of all nationalities. The streets of the town are narrow, but there is ample space by the waterside, where the great docks are crowded with shipping. Kind shouldered his pack, and strolled easily down to the river banks. At the dock gates he was stopped by an official and forbidden to smoke; also his pack was examined to see that he had no contraband goods about him. This should have been done when he came out and not when he went in, and Sweetlips was rather disgusted at the zeal of the customs official in charge. However, the inspection was a mere matter of form, and was made by the Jack-in-office just to show his authority, so Sweetlips was speedily on his way to the wharf, where he was told the "Tarabacca" was lying. Very quickly he found her, and stood for a few moments looking at the smart vessel which was berthed immediately longside. She was a rakish, dissipated-looking craft, gaily painted blue and white, and flew an ensign which he had never seen before. It was a red wheel on white ground, and probably was the totem of the Indiana Republic. The yacht herself was three hundred tons, Lloyd's measurement, schooner-rigged fore and aft, with twin screws. Kind was a landsman, but guessed that this graceful, piratical-looking craft could slip along at a surprising speed, when she wanted to show a pair of clean heels. There was more of the blockade-runner than the cargo boat about her.

Nor did the crew inspire Kind with confidence, as they were as dark and villainous a set of ruffians as ever shipped along with Captain Kidd. Most of them were mixed Spanish-Indian blood, and wore silver earrings and picturesque garbs, with the inevitable sheath-knife belted at the back. But here and there the Cheap-jack saw fair-haired Englishman, and also he espied a red-haired Scotchman, who was certainly the engineer, since he came along with an oil-can in his hand. Finally Kind caught sight of a small motor-launch, and wondered if it had been used to take a portion of this pirate crew down the river, to within kidnapping distance of the "Marsh Inn."

However, he did not take long to conclude his examination, and began a swift patter as he displayed his goods. The pirates crowded to the taffrail, and grinned as his saucy words poured out. They apparently did not understand what he was saying, but the gay tints of his goods attracted them, and he was invited, in dumb show, on board. Here he shortly arrived and spread out his pack, keeping an eye meanwhile on everything that was going on. The crew examined beads and gaudy scarfs and cheap jewellery, and suchlike things, while Kind made his observations. There didn't seem to be much chance of getting information from these men, seeing that they were ignorant of English, and in desperation. Kind hit on an expedient to force his way into the state-room in order to get speech with the lady of the motor car, always provided she was on board. To learn her whereabouts he addressed an English sailor, who was lounging on the bridge overhead.

"Hi!" cried Kind, giving his hat a cock, "Is there a lady on this here ship?"

"What do you want with her?" growled the man, removing his pipe.

"I've got goods to sell."

"She don't want rubbish like that, mate."

"Rubbish be--blessed," cried the Cheap-jack, resolved to make a row, and draw the lady from her shell,--now that he knew she was on board,--rather than lose his chance. "You come down and I'll show you if this is rubbish."

The sailor leaned over the iron railing of the bridge, and jeered.

"You go to--Kingdom come," said he, not using those precise words, "give me any of yer lip, and I'll chuck you into the water."

Before he ended, Kind, active as a cat, was swarming up the steps, and the astonished sailor found himself shortly grappling with an exceedingly active opponent. It was a rash thing to do, as Kind did not know the strength of his antagonist, and moreover ran a chance of being imprisoned for starting trouble. All the same, he ran the risk, and swung and swayed with the now enraged mariner, while the swarthy crew hooted and yelled, and stole all the articles they could find in the pack. As Kind guessed, the noise brought out a man in authority, and also the tall, dark lady who had insulted Browne.

"What's all this?" inquired the officer, looking up at the struggling men.

Kind heard the voice, and saw the lady. With an effort he flung his antagonist on the deck, and leaped like a kangaroo from the bridge down on to the lower deck. The fall was a dangerous one, but Kind managed to alight, like a cat, on his feet and almost beside the lady. Scrambling up he began to explain.

"I came along to see this lady," he said, taking off his hat, and gasping for breath, "and my civil inquiry only met with sauce. I was teaching that pirate there some manners."

"Here, get on, you swab," shouted the officer, advancing.

Sweetlips, whose eyes were on all sides, saw that the sailors were stealing his property, and bounded for his pack, He arrived just in time to knock over a man, who was seizing the red and yellow shawl which was his passport to an interview with the lady. With this in his hand he ran back, dodging the enraged half-caste he had bowled over.

"Miss,--ma'am," he gasped, flourishing the shawl in the eyes of the lady, "I want to see you,--I've come from Desleigh,--I've----"

The lady interrupted to rattle off a speech to the officer in Spanish, whereupon that gentleman knocked down the half caste, who had drawn his knife and was making for Kind.

"Come here with me," said the lady in English, and swept into the cabin, followed by the Cheap-jack, who did not at all like the looks of his adversary. He had secured his purpose, but at the risk of being knifed when he came ashore.

"Now then," said the lady in excellent English, "have you a message for me?"

"No, ma'am, but I found some of your property, and came to return--"

"My property. What do you mean?"

Kind twisted the gaudy shawl in his hands, and pointed out the name on the border.

"It's the name of your boat, ma'am," said he with pretended humility, "so I thought that it belonged to you."

The woman did not reply at once, but fixed a pair of dark imperious eyes on him, as though she would read what was behind his speech. But the Cheap-jack was not going to be hypnotised by anyone, and let his eyes wander round a spacious and luxuriously furnished cabin.

This unknown lady was evidently rich, for there were evidences of wealth on all sides. The walls of grained wood were panelled with pictures between the port-holes, the doors of the various berths were draped voluminously with rich eastern stuffs; the floor was covered with a carpet of royal colours, and the furniture was upholstered in gaily-tinted silks. The whole was a blaze of colour, as vividly-hued as a rainbow.

Nor was the lady in her royal beauty unworthy of the place. She was tall, slim, stately, and bore herself in an imperial manner. Her skin was of a deep-olive, and her eyes were dark, large and liquid. What with her beautifully-shaped hands and feet, her haughty face, and refined features, Kind, accustomed to sum up people, guessed that she was a lady of rank, although of what position he could not guess. But as his eyes returned to her lovely face, and he saw the piercing gaze of her eyes, and how she tried to dominate him, he saw that it would be necessary to be on his guard. Again he avoided her intense gaze and glanced ostentatiously at the opposite wall, against which stood a small ebony table, fretted with gold. On this rested several photographs in silver frames. With a start Kind recognised the most prominent one as that of Captain Kyles. The lady saw his start and her eyes followed his.

"Why do you start?" she asked, sharply.

"I saw that gentleman at the inquest at Desleigh," he answered, feeling his way, for he could not quite understand the situation.

"And you saw me there also?" she asked, quickly. "Yes, Madame,--I mean,--yes, ma'am."

"I am neither French nor English. My name is Donna Maria Guzman. You can address me as Se�ora. Why have you come here?"

"To restore this," replied Kind, displaying the shawl.

"Where did you find it?"

The Cheap-jack thought that it was necessary to lie. If Armour had been abducted by her sailors, it was not likely that she would admit such a breach of the law.

"I picked it up on the road to Desleigh station," said he glibly.

"Ah, yes," she replied, with an air of relief, "I fancy it must have dropped from my motor car, when I was at the inquest."

So she was lying also. Kind hesitated about speaking further, as he did not quite know what to say. He wished to ask her why she had come to the inquest, and why she had permitted her sailors to abduct Armour. She saved him the trouble of asking the questions by answering at least one of them.

"I went to Desleigh," she said, and Kind thought that the speech was somewhat unnecessary, "to see if the murderer of Sir Simon Tedder would be found."

"Why, ma'am--I mean, Se�ora?"

"Sir Simon was doing business with me in connection with the Republic of Indiana, through--" she glanced at the portrait.

"Through Captain Kyles?" ventured Sweetlips bluntly.

"What do you know of him?" she questioned, with some asperity.

"I saw him at the inquest."

"He was there by my request. This death of Sir Simon has thrown all my business into confusion. You seem to be a sharp fellow, and I am obliged to you for returning the shawl. It belongs to the ship and was marked to prevent its being lost; these shawls are of Indian manufacture and are somewhat expensive. My maid marked it."

Again Kind wondered why she should make unnecessary explanations to him, seeing that she thought he was merely a hawker, and could not possibly guess that he was employed in detective business. She saw something of his wonderment in his face.

"I daresay you are surprised at my telling you all this?" she said quickly.

"Well, ma'am, I don't see why you should tell me your private business, as I am only a poor cove as gets his living hard."

Se�ora Guzman sat down, and resting her cheek on her hand, looked at him thoughtfully.

"You seem to be a sharp fellow," she said again, "and as you have come here rather opportunely, I wish to make use of you."

"Yes, ma'am--I mean Se�ora."

"I'll pay you well," she continued, "on condition that you hold your tongue."

"I don't talk much, ma'am."

"That's good. Well then, this death of Sir Simon's has thrown all my business into confusion. I said that before. I am the daughter of the President of the Republic of Indiana, and I have come on this boat to buy ships, as it is probable we may engage in war. Captain Kyles commands this boat, and was dealing with Sir Simon. I believe that Sir Simon was murdered by an emissary of a political party at variance with my father, the President, and----'

"Then this chap Herries is innocent," said Kind, with well-affected simplicity.

"Of course he is. I went to see if the inquest would clear his character. It did not. I am sorry for the young man, and I wish to save him if possible. Do you know where he is?"

"No, Se�ora. He has vanished."

"I thought you might have seen him," she muttered, with her eyes on the carpet and a look of perplexity on her face. "I am placed in a very difficult position."

"I'm only a poor cove, ma'am, and can't help you."

"Yes, you can. Find out where Mr. Herries is, and bring him to me. I will save him."

"Then you know who killed Sir Simon, ma'am?"

"No. I wish I did," she rose and stretched her arms over her head, "but that seems to be a mystery. Still, I can guess this much; that someone from Indiana killed him. It's a political murder, so as to stop Sir Simon from supplying ships to Indiana."

"But Sir Simon was a jam manufacturer."

"He dealt in other things also. Whenever he saw that he could make money he did business. If he had lived--" she stopped and clenched her hand. "The position is very difficult."

Kind thought so also. She was frank enough with him; much franker than she need have been, especially as she had no guarantee that he would not blab all she had said to others. But her speech about Sir Simon's dealings with the Republic supplied him with a motive for the assassination. Perhaps after all it _was_ a political murder, for the emissary of the Republic, who had dropped the cigarette in Herries' room, might also smoke that especial brand. But why should Herries have been deliberately implicated in the affair? He might find out, if he served this lady's ends, since she also was bent upon saving Herries, and hanging the real culprit. If the murderer was a political adversary, she would certainly be doing a good service to her father.

"What do you wish me to do, Se�ora?" he asked.

"Search for the real murderer and bring Mr. Herries to me, that is, if you can find his whereabouts. I want to get at the truth of this matter, so as to explain to my father, who will certainly blame me for what has taken place."

"But why should you think that I am able to help you?" asked the Cheap-jack with open suspicion.

Donna Maria laughed.

"Oh, I am accustomed to judge men," she said in a light tone, "and your ruse to get speech with me was very clever."

Kind was taken aback.

"Do you think that I----?"

"My friend, I am perfectly certain that you quarrelled with those sailors to bring me on deck," she responded, "and that being the case, I see that you are a man of resource. Serve me, and I pay you well. And," she added, bending towards him with a fierce look, "I do not fear your talking. If I employ you, I employ others also, and if you talk, a knife thrust will soon silence you."

"This is England, and not lawless Indiana," retorted Kind.

"All the same, you have had your warning," replied Se�ora Guzman in a careless tone. "Here," she took out a gold net purse, and produced from it a couple of sovereigns, "this is for bringing back the shawl. I will pay you well, if you will keep your eyes open, and find this missing man. I can do nothing until he tells me what really took place on that night."

Kind felt inclined to explain that Herries was perfectly ignorant of what had taken place, but he did not wish to let this very vehement lady know his real position, and therefore accepted her gratuity with thanks. But before withdrawing he wished to learn one thing,--was Donna Maria in love with Kyles? He believed she was from the glances she threw occasionally at the photograph. If she did love the buccaneer, did she know that he was engaged to Miss Maud Tedder? If she did not, here would be a chance of putting--as the saying is--a spoke in Captain Kyles' wheel. Sweetlips did not doubt but what Captain Kyles had something to do with the crime, although to be sure, his doubts were founded upon uncertain evidence. He put the matter to an immediate test.

"Will I report to Captain Kyles, Se�ora?" he asked, with simplicity.

"No. Certainly not. Why should you report to Captain Kyles?" she asked quickly, and with sudden suspicion.

"Well, ma'am, since he is in command of this----"

"He is the captain, but the political business of Indiana is in my hands," said she haughtily, "you know what you have to do, go and do it. But if you talk,----" she looked so significantly at him that Kind, although not over-imaginative, shivered. It was ill-work dealing with this tiger-cat. At first sight, it seemed as though she had trusted a man unknown to her, very rashly, but now that he saw she was prepared to stick at nothing, to secure any necessary silence, he became aware that there was method in her rashness. All the same he had not yet learned if she loved Kyles, and ventured again to feel his way.

"Well, Se�ora, I daresay the Captain will be glad enough, not to be bothered with me while he's better employed."

"What do you mean?" asked Donna Maria, abruptly, and her eyes narrowed like those of a cat.

"There was a cove at Desleigh," went on Kind, watching her face, "a chap as is a doctor and a friend of Mr. Herries at that, Dr. Browne he is, and I did hear him say that the dead man's daughter is engaged to marry----"

The lady flew across the room, and grasped Kind's arm fiercely.

"Not to--to----" she could not proceed.

"To Captain Kyles, ma'am."

"It's a lie," she muttered, and her face went white, while her lips tightened and her eyes flashed fire. "Do you mean to say that anyone--anyone--" she clasped her throat as though she were choking, "that anyone dares to--to report this--this engagement?"

"Dr. Browne says Miss Tedder is to marry the Captain, Se�ora."

Donna Maria's hands clenched themselves, and she spoke more to herself than to her companion.

"That would account for--for--but no. He would not be such a villain. Besides, there's Manco Capac's treasure, and he loves me,--I am certain he loves me. The treasure will tempt him, and--" here she became aware that Kind was listening eagerly, and stopped abruptly to ask a question. "Will Miss Tedder be rich?" she demanded, calming herself with difficulty.

"Yes," replied Kind promptly, and lying advisedly, "she inherits fifty thousand a year from her father."

Se�ora Guzman passed a lace handkerchief across her mouth.

"It's a great deal of money. She is pretty too,--a doll though; not like----" she glanced in the near mirror at her splendid face, and drew herself up proudly. "Oh," she flung the handkerchief across the room, "it's impossible,--quite impossible. Here," she turned on him energetically, "you are one who wanders about the country. I saw you at the inquest and was told that you so wandered. That is why I have been so frank. You may chance on Mr. Herries, bring him to me!"

"But why--why----?"

"If I find you trustworthy I will explain. Now go." Kind went, and was glad to go, for his head was whirling.