JIMMY PAYNE TO CHAUNCEY RANDOLPH
Grand Hotel, Rome, December 27.
Dear Mr. Randolph,
I find myself in a difficult position, but I am going to take the bull by the horns and write to you of certain things which seem to me of importance. I trust to your friendship and your knowledge of my feelings and desires towards Molly to excuse me if you consider that I am being officious. You will understand when I have explained that I cannot hope to make her see the matter in its true light; but you, as a man and her father, will do so, and will comprehend that my motive is for her protection.
I have thanked you already for answering my letter, in which I begged that you would let me know in which part of Europe Molly was travelling, and she has told me that she wrote you of our meeting at Pau. I reached there a couple of days sooner than she and Miss Kedison did. In fact, I saw their arrival in the famous automobile of whose adventures you must have heard much. The minute my eyes lighted upon the chauffeur I felt an instinctive distrust of the man, and I have learned through experience not to disregard the warnings of my instinct. It has served me more than one good turn in the street when the markets were wobbling. Now I have been a good deal chaffed about a resemblance to Sherlock Holmes, the great detective of fiction, but I acknowledge and am proud of that resemblance. I venture to think that it is not wholly confined to externals. A certain detective instinct was born in me. It began to show itself when I was a little boy at school, and since then I have trained and cultivated it, as a kind of higher education of the brain. In several instances I have been able to expose frauds, which, but for the purely impersonal, scientific interest I took in the affairs, might have remained undetected. In these experiments I have made enemies of course; but what matter?
The interest I feel in the case I am about to lay bare to you is not, I confess, purely impersonal. But I hope under the circumstances you will think none the less of me for that.
My first distant glimpse of the man Brown created, as I have said, an unfavourable impression upon my mind. I thought that he had a swaggering air of conceit and self-importance extremely unbecoming in a man of his class. He had the air of thinking himself equal to his betters, which is a dangerous thing in a person entrusted with the care of ladies. My impression was confirmed by some of the tales which Molly told me of her automobile experiences, not only quite unconscious that they militated against her chauffeur, but apparently believing them to his credit. I began to fear that the fellow was one to take advantage of the trust placed in him by two unprotected women, whom he doubtless has guessed to be well provided with money. My definite suspicions went at first no further than this, though there was a kind of detective premonition in my mind that more might remain to be found out. I might have confined myself to tacit disapproval, however, or a word of advice to Molly, and perhaps one stern warning to the man, had I not gone into the golf club at Pau on our last day there. To my intense astonishment I saw Brown on the links attempting to get members to play with him by passing himself off as a gentleman. He wore good clothes, and acted his part fairly well-well enough, perhaps to deceive the unobservant. But he is not the sort of person I should ever mistake for a gentleman. I went up to him, and very quietly ordered him off the links, threatening to expose him publicly. But he whined for mercy, and I, in a moment of weak good nature, let him off, on his promise to go at once. I inquired, however, of the steward what name he had given on seeking admittance, and was startled to find that he had passed himself off as the Honourable John Winston, his late master and the owner of the car which Molly is now using. As I had bound myself to keep silence, I did not betray him, but the fact just discovered confirmed my distrust of the man as a dangerous and unscrupulous person.
For Molly's sake I felt that I must begin investigation, so as to be able in the end to expose Brown and let her see him in his real character; but for several reasons not necessary to trouble you with it was essential to proceed with extreme caution.
It was unbearable to me, knowing even the little I did know at that time of the man's character to allow Molly and Miss Kedison to go wandering over the country alone with him. I feared that he might compromise them in some way, or even resort to blackmail, and with this danger before my mind, I offered to accompany the ladies on their car to the Riviera. I made the suggestion to Miss Kedison, not to Molly, and hinted to her something concerning my motives, cautioning her at the same time that silence was vitally important until I could give her leave to speak. You may think that I was taking a good deal on myself; but I have a great regard for you, as well as an unfortunately deep affection for Molly, and as I have made many intimate friends among the highest in the land, all over the Continent, as in England, I felt that my presence in the car might be especially helpful.