CHAPTER I
MADAME LUNA
âOh, Mr. Thorâdonât you remember me?â
Thor, who had spent the last hour in the restaurant car, had resumed his seat with only a casual glance at the woman who had established herself in the seat facing his during his absence. Now that she had spoken he recognised her. He had been spending a few days at an East coast resort at the close of the summer season two years previously. She had been doing palmistry at the end of the pier, but clients had been few and she was in pitiful straits. Thor, seeing her wan little face peering wistfully out of her booth, had given her five shillings, double her usual fee, for a hand reading; and, after hearing her story, had paid her debts and helped her to get back to London.
He had neither seen her nor heard from her since. He was a serious student of the occult, and, as such, he sometimes regretted the traffic in amulets and horoscopes carried on by the possessors of a small psychic gift who picked up a precarious living on the fringes of the spiritualist movement; but he knew their difficulties and their temptations, and he would always help them if he could. He was a man of independent means, and, since his motherâs death, with no family ties. He had spent some years in the East. On his return he had taken a flat in a block off Vincent Square, where he lived with an old family servant as his housekeeper. He was gradually becoming known as an authority on what had hitherto been a kind of No Manâs Land between that covered by the C.I.D. and the alienist. Though he prided himself on never turning away a client in real need of his help he only undertook cases that made an appeal either to his scientific curiosity, or to a heart that was softer than his lean, harsh-featured face and his aloof manner indicated. He had just concluded an enquiry in the Midlands and he was conscious of both bodily and mental fatigue, but there was nothing in his manner to betray the fact that he would rather have been left to doze in his corner until the outskirts of London were reached.
âOf course I remember you,â he said, smiling.
She had not altered much. A little shabbier perhaps and more shrunken. Living on her nerves, he thought, and on not much else.
âI hope you are doing better now,â he said.
âI was,â she said. âIâve been developing as a medium, and I made some good friends. But I was engaged to do palmistry at a bazaar up in Manchester. My landlady there persuaded me to stay on a week. She said lots of her friends would come to me. Well, several didâand thenâI shall never know who complained to the police, but someone did. They sent a policemanâs wife and sister to ask a lot of questions, and I was led into saying more than I should. A trap. Well,â she added, with a bitter little laugh, âI suppose I may think myself lucky. I might have had three months, and they only gave me three weeks in the first division. I told them I had my little girl depending on me, I wouldnât have minded so much if it hadnât been for her.â
âThere was someone to look after her in your absence?â
âMy landlady. Sheâs not a bad sort, but easy going.â
âYou are going back to her now?â
Madame Lunaâs worn little face lit up, and for an instant she looked quite pretty. âSheâs everything to me,â she said.
âHow old is she?â
âFive.â
âA pretty age,â said Thor. âYou must let me help you again. I seem to have brought you luck last time since you found friends after our meeting. Perhaps I shall bring you luck again.â He took out his pocket book and extracted ten one pound notes.
âDonât worry about repayment. Let me hear from you if there is anything I can do.â
The tired brown eyes of the little palmist filled with tears.
âYouâre too kind,â she faltered.
The train was entering Euston. There was no time for more. She tried to kiss his hand but he prevented her. The last he saw of her she was toiling down the platform, weighed down by her suit-case. A porter was collecting his luggage and his attention was distracted. When he glanced round again she had disappeared in the crowd.
He secured a taxi and drove back to his flat. Mrs. Jeal received him with head shakings. She had never overcome her disapproval of his activities. âYou look worn out, Mr. Cosmo. I wish folkâd leave you alone. You want a rest.â
He was glancing through the letters that had come for him by the morning post. âIâll take a long week-end off anyhow,â he said. âThe Willetts have asked me down to Sharings.â
The old woman beamed. âAh, there wonât be no trouble there.â
The Willetts were a placid, prosperous couple, devoted to their three charming childrenâThor was godfather to the youngestâand to their garden. Thor came back to London on Tuesday, having spent most of his waking hours under a cedar on the lawn.
He was feeling decidedly better.
âAny callers?â
Mrs. Jeal answered reluctantly. âThere was one. A person calling herself Madame Loony, or some such name.â
She had brought her masterâs tea into the sitting-room and was standing by while he poured out his first cup.
Thor looked up at her quickly. âMadame Luna? What did she want?â
He was frowning slightly. He had given the woman ten pounds. He had not expected her to appeal to him again so soon.
âShe didnât say. She came not an hour after you left on Friday, asking to see you. Very flustered, she seemed, and as white as a sheet. I told her it was no use, that youâd gone on holiday.â
âWhat did she say to that?â
Mrs. Jeal showed a trace of embarrassment. âShe seemed upset.â
Thorâs manner hardened. âI want a plain answer. What did she say?â
The old housekeeper answered sulkily. âShe said âMy God! Canât I get at him?â and I said, âYou can call again Tuesday evening. Heâll be here then,â I said, âbut for the present heâs taking a rest. Heâs flesh and blood like other folk,â I said, but I doubt if she heard me. She was off down the stairs.â
âYou should, have asked her to wait while you rang me up at Sharings,â said her master sternly.
âIâm sorry,â she muttered, âbut I wanted you to have a rest from them all. Theyâre always after you with this and that.â
âI know you meant well,â he said more gently, âbut you must not try to stand between me and my work. Wellâshe may call this evening. Show her in if she does.â
But Madame Luna did not come again.
Thor was troubled by her non-appearance. He had done his best for her, he had no responsibility, and yet he felt responsible. He had told her to come to him. He was thinking of her when the bell rang the following evening. It was rather late. He had just left his tiny dining-room, and Mrs. Jeal was preparing the coffee. He heard her go to the door, but the visitor she ushered in was a man, Inspector Hugh Collier, of the Criminal Investigation Department at Scotland Yard.
Some time previously a case of alleged haunting which Thor had been asked to investigate had proved to be a fraud intended to mask a cunningly contrived murder. Thor had communicated with the Yard. During the trial at which he had appeared as a witness for the Crown he had met the young Inspector. The two had become excellent friends, and though weeks often passed without their meeting Collier was sure to find his way sooner or later to Vincent Square.
âYou were expecting somebody? Iâm not butting in?â said Collier as they shook hands.
âNot at all. But how did you know?â
âYour housekeeper told me. Her face fell so perceptibly when she opened the door and saw that it was only an arm of the law,â said Collier, smiling. âI donât think she cares much for policemen, even in mufti.â
He broke off as Mrs. Jeal came in with the coffee. Her manner was unusually subdued. âYouâll see theâMadam Lunaâif she comes, sir?â
âOf course.â
When she had left them Thor turned to the younger man. âIâd rather like to tell you about thisâunofficially,â he said.
âIs it inâin your special line?â asked Collier. âYou know Iâve never touched any of this occult stuff, though Iâve got an open mind and all that.â
âNo, no. Itâs, as far as I know, a material dilemma.â Thor went on to describe his first meeting with the palmist on the pier at Salthaven and the second in the train a few days previously, and her subsequent call at the flat.
Collier listened attentively, lying back in one of his hostâs comfortable chairs, sipping his excellent coffee, and smoking a much better cigar than he could himself afford. He had had a hard day at the Yard and he was glad to relax, but if his friend wanted his help he was ready to give it.
He reflected a minute before he made any comment.
âI gather sheâs an hysterical neurotic type. Perhaps being tearful and exclamatory doesnât mean much in her case,â he suggested. âFor instance, she might have found there were still some bills owing when sheâd spent your ten pounds, and thought sheâd touch you for another fiver. Since you were away she may have found another friend to tide her over. Probably thatâs all there is to it.â
âYou may be right,â said Thor. âI hope you are. But did I say she was hysterical and neurotic? I donât think she is. Impulsive, certainly, and with the lack of poise that comes from living from hand to mouth. And three weeks of square meals in prison hadnât made up for years of under-nourishment. Sheâs a pathetic little soul, Collier, and as honest as she can afford to be I am certain.â
The man from the Yard shook his head. âIf you knew as much about the seamy side as I do, sir.â
âI do know a little,â Thor said grimly.
âWellâwhat do you want me to do?â
Thor hesitated. âI hardly know. If I had her address Iâd go and see her. Iâve looked in the advertising columns of Light and all the other papers, but sheâs not in any of them. I suppose after a conviction for fortune telling she would have to lie low for a while.â
âShe certainly would. What are you afraid of? That sheâll turn on the gasâsomething of that sort?â
Thor nodded. âSheâs got her child to support, and sheâs devoted to her. Iâm worried about her, Collier.â
âIâll find her for you,â said the young detective. âCould you give me a short description?â
Thor complied and Collier scribbled some notes in his book.
âSounds like nine women out of ten,â he said pessimistically. âThis standardised ready-made clothing is the devil. Well, Iâll do my best to round her up for you, but I hope she comes back of her own accord to set your mind at rest.â
He called again three evenings later.
âAny news?â
âNo,â said Thor.
âI see,â Collier hesitated a moment. âThereâs a womanâs body been found at the foot of a cliff in south Devon. Iâm afraidâshe sounds uncommonly like your Madame Luna. She hasnât been identified. Hereâs the account in the local paper. Iâll read it, shall I?â
âPlease,â said Thor.
âANOTHER FATALITY ON BARME HEAD
âThe absence of a warning notice and an adequate railing along the cliff edge is believed to have caused the death of the woman whose body was found last Sunday afternoon on the rocks three hundred feet below. There was a train excursion to Barme on Saturday and the deceased is supposed to have come with it. Her handbag is believed to have been washed out to sea as her body would have been if it had not become wedged in a cleft of rock. There were no marks on her underclothing. She is described as between thirty and forty, about five feet three inches in height, ill-nourished, short black hair, unwaved, brown eyes, three teeth missing in lower jaw. No scars but mark of a recent burn on the forefinger of her right hand.â
âI donât know about the burn, but the rest of the description tallies with yours.â
âI remember now,â said Thor, âshe burnt her finger while we were talking. She was lighting a cigarette and she did not blow out the match quick enough. She was very on edge then, hardly knew what she was doing. It was on Friday afternoon she came here, very agitated. Suicide? What was she doing at Barme?â
âThis woman may not be Madame Luna,â said Collier. âI wish Iâd known before. The inquest is over now and sheâs been buried.â
âWhat was the coronerâs verdict?â
âOh, accidental, and a rider from the jury about putting up a fence. Of course it may be O.K. There was a good deal of mist along the coast at the time.â
âWell, Iâll have a look round,â said Thor.
âYou will?â Collierâs tone betrayed his satisfaction. âIâm glad. Between you and me that sort of accident isnât very good for a place and is too apt to be glossed over. We canât butt in unasked, you know, but you, being a free lanceâeven so youâll have to handle the local police carefully.â
Thor smiled faintly. âI probably shanât go near them. But in most of my cases I have to steer a difficult course between the Scylla of medical etiquette and the Charybdis of the law. And I donât really think this poor woman can be Madame ...