Mary Louise at Dorfield/Chapter 12

Josie told not a soul of her experience on her first night spent in the Higgledy-Piggledy Shop. She felt as though perhaps she should have taken Chief Lonsdale into her confidence, but on the other hand was so afraid a mere man might bungle the thing. Besides she felt a pardonable pride in the possibility of being the one to solve a mystery that had been puzzling the wise heads of the secret service for some time. Thefts were constantly being reported from wealthy persons, high in the social world, from every city in the union. All kinds of household goods would disappear most mysteriously, pictures, bric-a-brac, rugs, books; sometimes even furniture heavy enough to take two strong men to move, would be spirited away in a style uncanny to say the least. Unsuspecting people would lock their apartments and go off for a pleasant week-end in the country, perhaps leave servants in charge, and come home to rooms bereft of all valuables. The thieves always showed excellent taste and never stole anything but the best. Similar losses were reported from East and West, North and South.

Of course our little detective had many misgivings on the subject of the intimacy between her dear Mary Louise and the Markles, which seemed to be growing closer and warmer as the days went on.

“I am as sure as sure can be of their perfidy. I certainly did not go to sleep under the bed and dream that they came in and did and said what they did, but I must bide my time or they will get off without my proving anything of importance on them,” she would say to herself when she saw Hortense with her arm around Mary Louise, making a great show of affection.

Hortense Markle knew very well how to make herself both agreeable and useful. She would spend hours playing chess with Colonel Hathaway or she would go to the greatest trouble to match some bit of lace for Mary Louise. She spent much of her time engaged in matchless needlework for the prospective bride. She was so pleasant, so agreeable and so very pretty that one could not help liking her. Most of Mary Louise’s friends found her quite as charming as Mary Louise did. Irene MacFarlane was the only one who did not succumb to her fascination.

Poor Irene! She had many a struggle with herself on the subject of Hortense Markle. She felt that her dislike was unreasonable and endeavored in every way to hide it, but she was of such a truthful nature that it was impossible for her to dissemble. In the meantime preparations for the wedding were under way and all of the group of girls chosen to be bridesmaids were busy over their frocks. Irene was willing to assist in any way, but Mrs. Markle was the one whose help was oftener asked.

“It is not that I am jealous,” Irene would say to herself. “It can’t be that. I have never been jealous in my life. I have an instinct of distrust that I can’t overcome. Her husband affects me the same way. What am I that I should set myself up as a person whose instinct is of any value? They must be all that they seem or so many persons would not be attracted by them.”

She rather hoped Josie O’Gorman would feel like discussing the matter with her after their little talk concerning Hortense Markle on the day the Higgledy-Piggledy Shop had its house warming, but the astute Josie did not mention it again and Irene felt that she must not be the one to approach the subject.

The Higgledy-Piggledy Shop was getting on its feet in great shape. It was a novelty in Dorfield and found its customers because of its unusualness at first and then those customers returned because of the efficiency of the young shopkeepers. Elizabeth Wright was kept quite busy hunting up facts for students on many and various subjects. She had typing to do and even obituary notices to write and sometimes love letters to compose for bashful young men and maidens. It was her lot to write club papers on every subject from Shakespeare to the musical glasses.

Josie had felt it necessary to take Elizabeth into her confidence concerning her being connected with the secret service, but never once had she divulged her suspicions of the attractive Markles. The one little talk she had had with Irene was the only time she had let herself go in the least concerning those persons whom she hoped to catch up with in some of their supposed villainies. Elizabeth was as enthusiastic about the beautiful Hortense as were all of the young people of her set, in spite of the fact that her sisters and mother declared the young married woman had an inclination to monopolize the eligible young men of their acquaintance. Billy McGraw certainly was very attentive to her, although his liking for Elizabeth was growing day by day.

“She’s such a good fellow,” he would say to himself, never thinking of her as anything but a pal, however, while he spent many a wakeful night tormented by the thought of Hortense Markle, for whom he had a chivalrous pity because of being married to such an unsympathetic middle-aged man. Many were the calls he made at the Markles’ charming apartment, when Mr. Markle would make himself obligingly scarce and leave the young man to delightful tête-a-têtes with his charming young wife.

“You promised to let me see the orchid pin when I came to see you,” he remarked on his first call, which was on the very next evening after the luncheon at the Higgledy-Piggledy.

“Why, of course,” she responded readily. “But I am so sorry it is not here. The catch was a little weak and Felix took it yesterday afternoon to the jewelers to have it strengthened. I would not lose it for worlds with all of its tender associations. I know you think I am sentimental.”

“Not at all! That is just the way Vi Thomas felt about hers, the one that was a counterpart of yours. By the way, I heard from Jerald Thomas only yesterday afternoon. It was something of a coincidence that we should have been talking about him at luncheon. I have not heard from him for ages. He tells me that he and Vi went off to Atlantic City several months ago for a breathing spell, leaving their apartment in charge of a trusted butler. They had wonderful furnishings, rugs, etchings and so forth. When they came back their place was cleared of everything in the least valuable. The butler had gone out to dinner with some friend he had picked up and had been drugged and not able to get back to his place, and while he was sleeping off his drunk, thieves had simply lifted the whole blooming business. Vi’s jewels had been taken from the safe too. I don’t know whether they got her orchid pin or not.”

“How terrible!” cried Hortense. “I can’t think of a greater calamity than losing my precious household goods, things that Felix and I have so carefully selected and for which we’ve denied ourselves so much.”

“You have some fine etchings too, have you not? I don’t know much about etchings, but I like them a lot.”

“Yes, but don’t look at them now. Felix adores showing them to people and he knows all about them. The next time you come he will take great pleasure in showing them to you. Just talk to me now.”

“Sure!” said Billy quite flattered that such a beautiful lady cared to talk to him. “Jerry and Vi Thomas were quite keen on etchings too. They had some rare signed proof ones, and Jerry was very particular about the frames too. He had some wonderful ebony frames made that were almost as valuable as the etchings.”

“How lovely they must have been,” said Hortense. “Let’s go out on the balcony. It seems warm in here to me.”

“Why not come for a spin in my car? It’s parked around the corner.”

“All right! You go and get it and I’ll be down directly.”

She ushered her caller out and ran back to a small den in the rear of the apartment where her husband was busily engaged trying to find the key to Detective O’Gorman’s cryptic code.

“I’m going out for a ride with Mr. McGraw. While I am gone, for goodness’ sake take down from the walls those signed Rembrandts and Whistlers, the ones in the ebony frames, and put something else in their places. This callow youth, Billy McGraw, is a great friend of the Thomases and has a liking for etchings.”

“Good girl! You didn’t let him see them!”

“Not I! I had to make him look at me instead.”

He pinched her cheek affectionately and looked at her with admiration shining in his eyes.

“Please get the mark off the orchid pin soon, dear, as I need it sorely for my new dress.”

“I’ll do it this afternoon,” he promised. “I guess this code can keep. It is deucedly hard. I may have to get you to help me. You are a clever pet and can jump at a conclusion it takes a clumsy man days to reach.”

Hortense smiled happily. “There is one thing I don’t like about this business, Felix.”

“And what is that?”

“I don’t like this thing of having to pretend to these foolish youths that you are a stern middle-aged person who is not in the least en rapport with me. You are so much more wonderful than any man I ever see anywhere.”

“Well, pet, we trust each other—eh?” and he looked searchingly in her eyes.

“Oh, Felix, what a question!” and she kissed him lightly on his smooth, iron-grey hair and ran off for her ride with Billy McGraw.