He was made secretary and companion to Prince Aribert, just to keep him in the domestic circle. His mother was an Irishwoman, whose misfortune was that she was too beautiful. Twig?’ (Mr Sampson Levi always used this extraordinary word when he was in a communicative mood.) ‘My belief is that Dimmock’s death has something to do with the disappearance of Prince Eugen.
The only thing that passes me is this: Why should anyone want to make Prince Eugen disappear? The poor little Prince hasn’t an enemy in the world. If he’s been “copped”, as they say, why has he been “copped”? It won’t do anyone any good.’
‘Won’t it?’ repeated Racksole, with a sudden flash.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Mr Levi.
‘I mean this: Suppose some other European pauper Prince was anxious to marry Princess Anna and her fortune, wouldn’t that Prince have an interest in stopping this loan of yours to Prince Eugen? Wouldn’t he have an interest in causing Prince Eugen to disappear—at any rate, for a time?’
Sampson Levi thought hard for a few moments.
‘Mr Theodore Racksole,’ he said at length, ‘I do believe you have hit on something.’
Chapter Twelve ROCCO AND ROOM NO. 111
ON the afternoon of the same day—the interview just described had occurred in the morning—Racksole was visited by another idea, and he said to himself that he ought to have thought of it before. The conversation with Mr Sampson Levi had continued for a considerable time, and the two men had exchanged various notions, and agreed to meet again, but the theory that Reginald Dimmock had probably been a traitor to his family—a traitor whose repentance had caused his death—had not been thoroughly discussed; the talk had tended rather to Continental politics, with a view to discovering what princely family might have an interest in the temporary disappearance of Prince Eugen. Now, as Racksole considered in detail the particular affair of Reginald Dimmock, deceased, he was struck by one point especially, to wit: Why had Dimmock and Jules manoeuvred to turn Nella Racksole out of Room No. 111 on that first night? That they had so manoeuvred, that the broken window-pane was not a mere accident, Racksole felt perfectly sure. He had felt perfectly sure all along; but the significance of the facts had not struck him. It was plain to him now that there must be something of extraordinary and peculiar importance about Room No. 111. After lunch he wandered quietly upstairs and looked at Room No. 111; that is to say, he looked at the outside of it; it happened to be occupied, but the guest was leaving that evening. The thought crossed his mind that there could be no object in gazing blankly at the outside of a room; yet he gazed; then he wandered quickly down again to the next floor, and in passing along the corridor of that floor he stopped, and with an involuntary gesture stamped his foot.