The Mystery of the Blue Train Read Online Free PDF Page B

to Down Street. As he was walking along Curzon Street, a figure came out of No. 160, and turned up the street towards him, so that they passed each other on the pavement. For a moment, the millionaire had fancied it might be Derek Kettering himself; the height and build were not unlike. But as they came face to face, he saw that the man was a stranger to him. At least—no, not a stranger; his face awoke some call of recognition in the millionaire’s mind, and it was associated definitely with something unpleasant. He cudgelled his brains in vain, but the thing eluded him. He went on, shaking his head irritably. He hated to be baffled.
    Ruth Kettering was clearly expecting him. She ran to him and kissed him when he entered.
    â€œWell, Dad, how are things going?”
    â€œVery well,” said Van Aldin; “but I have got a word or two to say to you, Ruth.”
    Almost insensibly he felt the change in her; something shrewd and watchful replaced the impulsiveness of her greeting. She sat down in a big armchair.
    â€œWell, Dad?” she asked. “What is it?”
    â€œI saw your husband this morning,” said Van Aldin.
    â€œYou saw Derek?”
    â€œI did. He said a lot of things, most of which were darned cheek. Just as he was leaving, he said something that I didn’t understand. He advised me to be sure that there was perfect frankness between father and daughter. What did he mean by that, Ruthie?”
    Mrs. Kettering moved a little in her chair.
    â€œI—I don’t know, Dad. How should I?”
    â€œOf course you know,” said Van Aldin. “He said something else, about his having his friends and not interfering with yours. What did he mean by that?”
    â€œI don’t know,” said Ruth Kettering again.
    Van Aldin sat down. His mouth set itself in a grim line.
    â€œSee here, Ruth. I am not going into this with my eyes closed. I am not at all sure that that husband of yours doesn’t mean to make trouble. Now, he can’t do it, I am sure of that. I have got the means to silence him, to shut his mouth for good and all, but I have got to know if there’s any need to use those means. What did he mean by your having your own friends?”
    Mrs. Kettering shrugged her shoulders.
    â€œI have got lots of friends,” she said uncertainly. “I don’t know what he meant, I am sure.”
    â€œYou do,” said Van Aldin.
    He was speaking now as he might have spoken to a business adversary.
    â€œI will put it plainer. Who is the man?”
    â€œWhat man?”
    â€œ The man. That’s what Derek was driving at. Some special man who is a friend of yours. You needn’t worry, honey, I know there is nothing in it, but we have got to look at everything as it might appear to the Court. They can twist these things about a good deal, you know. I want to know who the man is, and just how friendly you have been with him.”
    Ruth didn’t answer. Her hands were kneading themselves together in intense nervous absorption.
    â€œCome, honey,” said Van Aldin in a softer voice. “Don’t be afraid of your old Dad. I was not too harsh, was I, even that time in Paris?—By gosh!”
    He stopped, thunderstruck.
    â€œThat’s who it was,” he murmured to himself. “I thought I knew his face.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about, Dad? I don’t understand.”
    The millionaire strode across to her and took her firmly by the wrist.
    â€œSee here, Ruth, have you been seeing that fellow again?”
    â€œWhat fellow?”
    â€œThe one we had all that fuss about years ago. You know who I mean well enough.”
    â€œYou mean”—she hesitated—“you mean the Comte de la Roche?”
    â€œComte de la Roche!” snorted Van Aldin. “I told you at the time that the man was no better than a swindler. You had entangled yourself with him then very deeply, but I got you out of his