T. B. Smith was playing a round of golf at Walton Heath, when the news was telephoned through to him.
He left immediately for town, and picked up Ela at luncheon1 at the Fritz Hotel, where the detective had his headquarters.
"The whole thing is perfectly2 clear, now," he said. "The inexplicable3 disappearance4 of Mr. Farrington is explained in poster type, 'that he who runs may read.'"
"I am a little hazy5 about the solution myself," said Ela dubiously6.
"Then I will put it in plain language for you," said T. B. as he speared a sardine7 from the _hors d'oeuvre_ dish. "Farrington knew all along that the heir to the Tollington millions was George Doughton. He knew it years and years ago, and it was for that reason he settled at Great Bradley, where the Doughtons had their home. Evidently the two older Doughtons were dead at this time, and only George Doughton, the romantic and altogether unpractical explorer, represented the family.
"George was in love with the lady who is now known as Lady Constance Dex, and knowing this, Farrington evidently took every step that was possible to ingratiate himself into her good graces. He knew that the fortune would descend8 equally to Doughton and to his wife. Doughton was a widower9 and had a son, a youngster at the time, and it is very possible that, the boy being at school, and being very rarely in Great Bradley, Farrington had no idea of his existence.
"The knowledge that this boy was alive must have changed all his plans; at any rate, the engagement was allowed to drift on, whilst he matured some scheme whereby he could obtain a large portion of the Tollington millions for his own use. Again I think his plans must have been changed.
"It was whilst he was at Great Bradley that he was entrusted10 with the guardianship11 of Doris Gray, and as his affection for the young girl grew--an affection which I think was one of the few wholesome12 things in his life--he must have seen the extraordinary chance which fate had placed in his way.
"With diabolical13 ingenuity14 and with a remorselessness which is reminiscent of the Borgias he planned first George Doughton's death, and then the bringing together of Doughton's son and his own ward15. There is every proof of this to be found in his subsequent actions. He was prepared to introduce the young people to one another, and by affording them opportunities for meeting, and such encouragement as he could give, to bring about the result he so desired.
"But things did not move fast enough for him, and then he must have learnt, as the other trustees seem to have learnt recently, that there was an undiscovered time limit. He threw out hints to his niece, hints which were received rather coldly. He had taken the bold step of employing Frank Doughton to discover--himself! That was a move which had a twofold purpose. It kept the young man in contact with him. It also satisfied the other trustees, who had entrusted to Farrington the task of employing the necessary measures to discover the missing heir.
"But neither hint nor suggestion served him. The girl's fortune was due for delivery to her care, and his guardianship expired almost at the same time as the time limit for discovery of the Tollington millionaire came to an end. He had to take a desperate step; there were other reasons, of course, contributing to his move.
"The knowledge that he was suspected by me, the certainty that Lady Constance Dex would betray him, once she discovered that he had sent her lover to his death, all these were contributing factors, but the main reason for his disappearance was the will that was read after his bogus death.
"In that will he conveyed unchallengeable instructions for the girl to marry Frank Doughton without delay. I suspect that the girl now knows he is alive. Probably, panic-stricken by her tardiness16, he has disclosed his hand so far as the alleged17 death is concerned."
T. B. looked out of the window on to the stream of life which was flowing east and west along Piccadilly; his face was set in a little frown of doubt and anxiety.
"I can take Farrington to-morrow if I want to," he said after a moment, "but I wish to gather up every string of organization in my hands."
"What of Lady Constance Dex?" asked Ela. "Whilst we are waiting, she is in some little danger."
T. B. shook his head.
"If she is not dead now," he said simply, "she will be spared. If Farrington wished to kill her--for Farrington it was who spirited her away--he could have done so in the house; no one would have been any the wiser as to the murderer. Lady Constance must wait; we must trust to luck before I inspect that underground chamber18 of which I imagine she is at present an unwilling19 inmate20. I want to crush this blackmailing21 force," he said, thumping22 the table with energy; "I want to sweep out of England the whole organization which is working right under the nose of the police and in defiance23 of all laws; and until I have done that, I shall not sleep soundly in my bed."
"And Poltavo?"
"Poltavo," smiled T. B., "can wait for just a little while."
He paid the bill and the two men passed out of the hotel and crossed Piccadilly. A man who had been lounging along apparently24 studying the shop windows saw them out of the corner of his eye and followed them carelessly. Another man, no less ostentatiously reading a newspaper, as he walked along the pavement on the opposite side of the thoroughfare, followed close behind.
T. B. and his companion turned into Burlington Arcade25 and reached Cork26 Street. Save for one or two pedestrians27 the street was utterly28 deserted29, and the first of the shadowers quickened his pace. He put his hand in his tail pocket and took out something which glinted in the April sunlight, but before he could raise his hand the fourth man, now on his heels, dropped his newspaper, and flinging one arm around the shadower's neck, and placing his knee in the small of the other's back, wrenched30 the pistol away with his disengaged hand.
T. B. turned at the sound of the struggle and came back to assist the shadowing detective. The prisoner was a little man, sharp-featured, and obviously a member of one of the great Latin branches of the human race. A tiny black moustache, fierce scowling31 eyebrows32, and liquid brown eyes now blazing with hate, spoke33 of a Southern origin.
Deftly34 the three police officers searched and disarmed35 him; a pair of adjustable36 handcuffs snapped upon the man's thin wrists, and before the inevitable37 crowd could gather the prisoner and his custodians38 were being whirled to Vine Street in a cab.
They placed the man in the steel dock and asked him the usual questions, but he maintained a dogged silence. That his object had been assassination39 no one could doubt, for in addition to the automatic pistol, which he had obviously intended using at short range, trusting to luck to make his escape, they found a long stiletto in his breast pocket.
More to the point, and of greater interest to T. B., there was a three-line scrawl40 on a piece of paper in Italian, which, translated, showed that minute instructions had been given to the would-be murderer as to T. B.'s whereabouts.
"Put him in a cell," said T. B. "I think we are going to find things out. If this is not one of Poltavo's hired thugs, I am greatly mistaken."
Whatever he was, the man offered no information which might assist the detective in his search for the truth, but maintained an unbroken silence, and T. B. gave up the task of questioning him in sheer despair.
The next morning at daybreak the prisoner was aroused and told to dress. He was taken out to where a motor car was awaiting him, and a few moments later he was speeding on the way to Dover. Two detective officers placed him on a steamer and accompanied him to Calais. At Calais they took a courteous41 leave of him, handing him a hundred francs and the information in his own tongue that he had been deported42 on an order from the Home Secretary, obtained at midnight the previous night.
The prisoner took his departure with some eagerness and spent the greater portion of his hundred francs in addressing a telegram to Poltavo.
T. B. Smith, who knew that telegram would come, was sitting in the Continental43 instrument room of the General Post Office when it arrived. He was handed a copy of the telegram and read it. Then he smiled.
"Thank you," he said, as he passed it back to the Superintendent44 of the department, "this may now be transmitted for delivery. I know all I want to know."
Poltavo received the message an hour later, and having read it, cursed his subordinate's indiscretion, for the message was in Italian, plain for everybody to read who understood that language, and its purport45 easy to understand for anybody who had a knowledge of the facts.
He waited all that day for a visit from the police, and when T. B. arrived in the evening Poltavo was ready with an excuse and an explanation. But neither excuse nor explanation was asked for. T. B.'s questions had to do with something quite different, namely the new Mrs. Doughton and her vanished fortune.
"I was in the confidence of Mr. Farrington," said Poltavo, relieved to find the visit had nothing to do with that which he most dreaded46, "but I was amazed to discover that the safe was empty. It was a tremendous tragedy for the poor young lady. She is in Paris now with her husband," he added.
T. B. nodded.
"Perhaps you will give me their address?" he asked.
"With pleasure," said Count Poltavo, reaching for his address book.
"I may be going to Paris myself to-morrow," T. B. went on, "and I will look these young people up. I suppose it is not the correct thing for any one to call upon honeymoon47 couples, but a police officer has privileges."
There was an exchange of smiles. Poltavo was almost exhilarated that T. B.'s visit had nothing to do with him personally. A respect, which amounted almost to fear, characterized his attitude toward the great Scotland Yard detective. He credited T. B. with qualities which perhaps that admirable man did not possess, but, as a set-off against this, he failed to credit him with a wiliness which was peculiarly T. B.'s chief asset. For who could imagine that the detective's chief object in calling upon Poltavo that evening was to allay49 his suspicions and soothe50 down his fears. Yet T. B. came for no other reason and with no other purpose. It was absolutely necessary that Poltavo should be taken off his guard, for T. B. was planning the coup48 which was to end for all time the terror under which hundreds of innocent people in England were lying.
After an exchange of commonplace civilities the two men parted,--T. B., as he said, with his hand on the door, to prepare for his Paris trip, and Poltavo to take up what promised to be one of the most interesting cases that the Fallock blackmailers had ever handled.
He waited until he heard the door close after the detective; until he had watched him, from the window, step into his cab and be whirled away, then he unlocked the lower drawer of his desk, touched a spring in the false bottom, and took from a secret recess51 a small bundle of letters.
Many of the sheets of notepaper which he spread out on the table before him bore the strawberry crest52 of his grace the Duke of Ambury. The letters were all in the same sprawling53 handwriting; ill-spelt and blotted54, but they were very much to the point. The Duke of Ambury, in his exuberant55 youth, had contracted a marriage with a lady in Gibraltar. His regiment56 had been stationed at that fortress57 when his succession to the dukedom had been a very remote possibility, and the Spanish lady to whom, as the letters showed, he had plighted58 his troth, and to whom he was eventually married in the name of Wilson (a copy of the marriage certificate was in the drawer), had been a typical Spaniard of singular beauty and fascination59, though of no distinguished60 birth.
Apparently his grace had regretted his hasty alliance, for two years after his succession to the title, he had married the third daughter of the Earl of Westchester without--so far as the evidence in Poltavo's possession showed--having gone through the formality of releasing himself from his previous union.
Here was a magnificent coup, the most splendid that had ever come into the vision of the blackmailers, for the Duke of Ambury was one of the richest men in England, a landlord who owned half London and had estates in almost every county. If ever there was a victim who was in a position to be handsomely bled, here was one.
The Spanish wife was now dead, but an heir had been born to the Duke of Ambury before the death, and the whole question of succession was affected61 by the threatened disclosure. All the facts of the case were in Poltavo's possession; they were written in this curiously62 uneducated hand which filled the pages of the letters now spread upon the table in front of him. The marriage certificate had been supplied, and a copy of the death certificate had also been obligingly extracted by a peccant servant, and matters were now so far advanced that Poltavo had received, through the Agony column of the _Times_, a reply to the demand he had sent to his victim.
That reply had been very favourable63; there had been no suggestion of lawyers; no hint of any intervention64 on the part of the police. Ambury was willing to be bled, willing indeed, so the agony advertisement indicated to Poltavo, to make any financial sacrifice in order to save the honour of his house.
It was only a question of terms now. Poltavo had decided65 upon fifty thousand pounds. That sum would be sufficient to enable him to clear out of England and to enjoy life as he best loved it, without the necessity for taking any further risks. With Doris Gray removed from his hands, with the approval of society already palling66 upon him, he thirsted for new fields and new adventures. The fifty thousand seemed now within his grasp. He should, by his agreement with Farrington, hand two-thirds of that sum to his employer, but even the possibility of his doing this never for one moment occurred to him.
Farrington, so he told himself, a man in hiding, powerless and in Poltavo's hands practically, could not strike back at him; the cards were all in favour of the Count. He had already received some ten thousand pounds as a result of his work in London, and he had frantic67 and ominous68 letters from Dr. Fall demanding that the "house" share should be forwarded without delay. These demands Poltavo had treated with contempt. He felt master of the situation, inasmuch that he had placed the major portion of the balance of money in hand, other than that which had been actually supplied by Farrington, to his own credit in a Paris bank. He was prepared for all eventualities, and here he was promised the choicest of all his pickings--for the bleeding of the Duke of Ambury would set a seal upon previous accomplishments69.
He rang a bell, and a man came, letting himself into the room with a key. He was an Italian with a peculiarly repulsive70 face; one of the small fry whom Poltavo had employed from time to time to do such work as was beneath his own dignity, or which promised an unnecessary measure of danger in its performance.
"Carlos," said Poltavo, speaking in Italian, "Antonio has been arrested, and has been taken to Calais by the police."
"That I know, signor," nodded the man. "He is very fortunate. I was afraid when the news came that he would be put into prison."
Poltavo smiled.
"The ways of the English police are beyond understanding," he said lightly. "Here was our Antonio, anxious and willing to kill the head of the detective department, and they release him! Is it not madness? At any rate, Antonio will not be coming back, because though they are mad, the police are not so foolish as to allow him to land again. I have telegraphed to our friend to go on to Paris and await me, and here let me say, Carlos,"--he tapped the table with the end of his penholder,--"that if you by ill-fortune should ever find yourself in the same position of our admirable and worthy72 Antonio, I beg that you will not send me telegrams."
"You may be assured, excellent signor," said the man with a little grin, "that I shall not send you telegrams, for I cannot write."
"A splendid deficiency," said Poltavo.
He took up a letter from the table.
"You will deliver this to a person who will meet you at the corner of Branson Square. The exact position I have already indicated to you."
The man nodded.
"This person will give you in exchange another letter. You will not return to me but you will go to your brother's house in Great Saffron Street, and outside that house you will see a man standing71 who wears a long overcoat. You will brush past him, and in doing so you will drop this envelope into his pocket--you understand?"
"Excellency, I quite understand," said the man.
"Go, and God be with you," said the pious73 Poltavo, sending forth74 a message which he believed would bring consternation75 and terror into the bosom76 of the Duke of Ambury.
It was late that night when Carlos Freggetti came down a steep declivity77 into Great Saffron Street and walked swiftly along that deserted thoroughfare till he came to his brother's house. His brother was a respectable Italian artisan, engaged by an asphalt company in London. Near the narrow door of the tenement78 in which his relative lived, a stranger stood, apparently awaiting some one. Carlos, in passing him, stumbled and apologized under his breath. At that moment he slipped the letter into the other's pocket. His quick eyes noted79 the identity of the stranger. It was Poltavo. No one else was in the street, and in the dim light even the keenest of eyes would not have seen the transfer of the envelope. Poltavo strolled to the end of the thoroughfare, jumped into the taxicab which was waiting and reached his house after various transferences of cabs without encountering any of T. B.'s watchful80 agents. In his room he opened the letter with an anxious air. Would Ambury agree to the exorbitant81 sum he had demanded? And if he did not agree, what sum would he be prepared to pay as the price of the blackmailer's silence? The first words brought relief to him.
"I am willing to pay the sum you ask, although I think you are guilty of a dastardly crime," read the letter, "and since you seem to suspect my bonafides, I shall choose, as an agent to carry the money to you, an old labourer on my Lancashire estate who will be quite ignorant of the business in hand, and who will give you the money in exchange for the marriage certificate. If you will choose a rendezvous82 where you can meet, a rendezvous which fulfills83 all your requirements as to privacy, I will undertake to have my man on the spot at the time you wish."
There was a triumphant84 smile on Poltavo's face as he folded the letter.
"Now," he said half aloud, "now, my friend Farrington, you and I will part company. You have ceased to be of any service to me; your value has decreased in the same proportion as my desire for freedom has advanced. Fifty thousand pounds!" he repeated admiringly. "Ernesto, you have a happy time before you. All the continent of Europe is at your feet, and this sad England is behind you. Congratulations, _amigo_!"
The question of the rendezvous was an important one. Though he read into the letter an eagerness on the part of his victim to do anything to avoid the scandal and the exposure which Poltavo threatened, yet he did not trust him. The old farm labourer was a good idea, but where could they meet? When Poltavo had kidnapped Frank Doughton he had intended taking him to a little house he had hired in the East End of London. The journey to the Secret House was a mere85 blind to throw suspicion upon Farrington and to put the police off the real track. The car would have returned to London, and under the influence of a drug he had intended to smuggle86 Frank into the small house at West Ham, where he was to be detained until the period which Farrington had stipulated87 had expired.
But the transfer of money in the house was a different matter. The place could be surrounded by police. No, it must be an open space; such a space as would enable Poltavo to command a clear view on every side.
Why not Great Bradley, he thought, after a while? Again he would be serving two purposes. He would be leading the police to the Secret House, and he would have the mansion88 of mystery and all its resources as a refuge in case anything went wrong at the last moment. He could, in the worst extremity89, explain that he was collecting the money on behalf of Farrington.
Yes, Great Bradley and the wild stretch of down on the south of the town was the place. He made his arrangements accordingly.
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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hazy
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| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
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dubiously
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| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
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sardine
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| n.[C]沙丁鱼 | |
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descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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widower
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| n.鳏夫 | |
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entrusted
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| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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guardianship
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| n. 监护, 保护, 守护 | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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diabolical
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| adj.恶魔似的，凶暴的 | |
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ingenuity
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| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
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ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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tardiness
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| n.缓慢；迟延；拖拉 | |
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alleged
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| a.被指控的，嫌疑的 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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inmate
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| n.被收容者；(房屋等的)居住人；住院人 | |
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blackmailing
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| 胁迫，尤指以透露他人不体面行为相威胁以勒索钱财( blackmail的现在分词 ) | |
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thumping
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| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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arcade
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cork
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pedestrians
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| n.步行者( pedestrian的名词复数 ) | |
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utterly
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deserted
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wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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disarmed
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| v.裁军( disarm的过去式和过去分词 )；使息怒 | |
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adjustable
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| adj.可调整的，可校准的 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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custodians
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| n.看守人，保管人( custodian的名词复数 ) | |
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assassination
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| n.暗杀；暗杀事件 | |
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scrawl
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| vt.潦草地书写；n.潦草的笔记，涂写 | |
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courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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deported
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| v.将…驱逐出境( deport的过去式和过去分词 )；举止 | |
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continental
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| adj.大陆的，大陆性的，欧洲大陆的 | |
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superintendent
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| n.监督人，主管，总监；(英国)警务长 | |
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purport
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| n.意义，要旨，大要；v.意味著，做为...要旨，要领是... | |
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dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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honeymoon
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| n.蜜月（假期）；vi.度蜜月 | |
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coup
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| n.政变；突然而成功的行动 | |
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allay
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| v.消除，减轻(恐惧、怀疑等) | |
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soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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blotted
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| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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exuberant
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| adj.充满活力的；（植物）繁茂的 | |
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regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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plighted
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| vt.保证，约定（plight的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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intervention
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| n.介入，干涉，干预 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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palling
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| v.（因过多或过久而）生厌，感到乏味，厌烦( pall的现在分词 ) | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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accomplishments
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| n.造诣；完成( accomplishment的名词复数 )；技能；成绩；成就 | |
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repulsive
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| adj.排斥的，使人反感的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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declivity
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| n.下坡，倾斜面 | |
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tenement
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| n.公寓；房屋 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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exorbitant
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| adj.过分的；过度的 | |
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rendezvous
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| n.约会，约会地点，汇合点；vi.汇合，集合；vt.使汇合，使在汇合地点相遇 | |
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83
fulfills
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| v.履行（诺言等）( fulfill的第三人称单数 )；执行（命令等）；达到（目的）；使结束 | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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smuggle
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| vt.私运；vi.走私 | |
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stipulated
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| vt.& vi.规定；约定adj.[法]合同规定的 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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