"Where is the rest?" said Beale.
"That's the lot," replied McNorton grimly. "It's the only information you will get from this source for twenty-four hours."
"But I don't understand, it is undoubtedly1 Miss Cresswell's handwriting."
"And 'Belocity' is as undoubtedly your telegraphic address. This paper," he went on, "was taken from a drunken tramp--'hobo' you call 'em, don't you?"
"Where?"
"At Kingston-on-Thames," said McNorton--"the man was picked up in the street, fighting drunk, and taken to the police station, where he developed delirium2 tremens. Apparently3 he has been on the jag all the week, and to-day's booze finished him off. The local inspector4 in searching him found this piece of paper in his pocket and connected it with the disappearance5 of Miss Cresswell, the matter being fresh in his mind, as only this morning we had circulated a new description throughout the home counties. He got me on the 'phone and sent a constable6 up to town with the paper this afternoon."
"H'm," said Beale, biting his lips thoughtfully, "she evidently gave the man the telegram, telling him to dispatch it. She probably gave him money, too, which was the explanation of his final drunk."
"I don't think that is the case," said McNorton, "he had one lucid7 moment at the station when he was cross-examined as to where he got the money to get drunk, and he affirmed that he found it wrapped up in a piece of paper. That sounds true to me. She either dropped it from a car or threw it from a house."
"Is the man very ill?"
"Pretty bad," said the other, "you will get nothing out of him before the morning. The doctors had to dope him to get him quiet, and he will be some time before he is right."
He looked up at the other occupant of the room.
"Well, Parson, you are helping8 Mr. Beale, I understand?"
"Yes," said the other easily.
"Returning to your old profession, I see," said McNorton.
Parson Homo drew himself up a little stiffly.
"If you have anything against me you can pull me for it," he said insolently9: "that's your business. As to the profession I followed before I started on that career of crime which brought me into contact with the crude representatives of what is amusingly called 'the law,' is entirely10 my affair."
"Don't get your wool off, Parson," said the other good-humouredly. "You have lost your sense of humour."
"That's where you are wrong," said Homo coolly: "I have merely lost my sense of decency11."
McNorton turned to the other.
"What are you going to do?" he asked.
"'I am imprisoned12 at Deans,'" repeated Beale. "What 'Deans' have you in this country?"
"There are a dozen of them," replied the police chief: "there's Deansgate in Manchester, Deanston in Perth, Deansboro', Deans Abbey--I've been looking them up, there is a whole crowd of them."
"Are there any 'Deans' near Kingston?"
"None," replied the other.
"Then it is obviously the name of a house," said Beale. "I have noticed that in England you are in the habit of naming rather than numbering your houses, especially in the suburbs." He looked across to Parson Homo, "Can you help?"
The man shook his head.
"If I were a vulgar burglar I might assist you," he said, "but my branch of the profession does not take me to the suburbs."
"We will get a Kingston Directory and go through it," said McNorton; "we have one on the file at Scotland Yard. If----"
Beale suddenly raised his hand to enjoin13 silence: he had heard a familiar step in the corridor outside.
"That's van Heerden," he said in a low voice, "he has been out all the morning."
"Has he been shadowed?" asked McNorton in the same tone.
"My man lost him," he said.
He tiptoed along the passage and stood listening behind the door. Presently he heard the doctor's door close and came back.
"I have had the best sleuth in America trailing him," he said, "and he has slipped him every time."
"Anyway," said McNorton, "this telegram disposes of the idea that she has gone to Liverpool. It also settles the question as to whether she went of her own free will. If his name were on that telegram," he said thoughtfully, "I would take a risk and pull him in."
"I will give you something bigger to pull him for," Beale said, "once I have placed Miss Cresswell in safety."
"The Green Rust14?" smiled the police chief.
"The Green Rust," said Beale, but he did not smile, "that's van Heerden's big game. The abduction of Miss Cresswell is merely a means to an end. He wants her money and may want it very badly. The more urgent is his need the sooner that marriage takes place."
"But there is no clergyman in England who would marry them"--it was Homo who interrupted. "My dear friend, that sort of thing is not done except in story books. If the woman refuses her consent the marriage cannot possibly occur. As I understand, the lady is not likely to be cowed."
"That is what I am afraid of," said Beale, "she is all pluck----"
He stopped, for he had heard the doctor's door close. In three strides he had crossed the hallway and was in the corridor, confronting his suave15 neighbour. Dr. van Heerden, carefully attired16, was pulling on his gloves and smiled into the stern face of his rival.
"Well," he asked pleasantly, "any news of Miss Cresswell?"
"If I had any news of Miss Cresswell you would not be here," said Beale.
"But how interesting," drawled the doctor. "Where should I be?"
"You would be under lock and key, my friend," said Beale.
The doctor threw back his head and laughed softly.
"What a lover!" he said, "and how reluctant to accept his dismissal! It may ease your mind to know that Miss Cresswell, whom I hope very soon to call Mrs. van Heerden, is perfectly17 happy, and is very annoyed at your persistence18. I had a telegram from her this morning, begging me to come to Liverpool at the earliest opportunity."
"That's a lie," said Beale quietly, "but one lie more or less, I suppose, doesn't count."
"A thoroughly19 immoral20 view to take," said the doctor with much severity, "but I see there is nothing to be gained by arguing with you, and I can only make one request."
Beale said nothing but stood waiting.
"It is this," said the doctor, choosing his words with great care: "that you call off the gentleman who has been dogging my footsteps to-day. It was amusing at first but now it is becoming annoying. Some of my patients have complained of this man watching their houses."
"You've not seen a patient to-day, van Heerden," said Beale, "and, anyway, I guess you had better get used to being shadowed. It isn't your first experience."
The doctor looked at him under lowered lids and smiled again.
"I could save your man a great deal of trouble," he said, "and myself considerable exertion21 by giving him a list of the places where I intend calling."
"He will find that out for himself," said Beale.
"I wish him greater success than he has had," replied the other, and passed on, descending22 the stairs slowly.
Beale went back to his flat, passed to his bedroom and looked down into the street. He made a signal to a man at the corner and received an almost imperceptible answer. Then he returned to the two men.
"This fellow is too clever for us, I am afraid, and London with its tubes, its underground stations and taxi-cabs is a pretty difficult proposition."
"I suppose your man lost him in the tube," said McNorton.
"There are two ways down, the elevator and the stairs, and it is mighty23 difficult to follow a man unless you know which way he is going."
"But you were interrupted at an interesting moment. What are you going to tell us about the Green Rust?"
"I can only tell you this," said Beale, "that the Green Rust is the greatest conspiracy24 against the civilized25 world that has ever been hatched."
He looked sharply at Homo.
"Don't look at me," said the Parson, "I know nothing about it, unless----" He stopped and frowned. "The Green Rust," he repeated, "is that old man Heyler's secret?"
"He's in it," said Beale shortly.
"Is it a swindle of some kind?" asked the Parson curiously26. "It never struck me that Heyler was that kind of man."
"There is no swindle in it so far as Heyler's concerned," said Beale, "it is something bigger than a swindle."
A telephone bell rang and he took up the receiver and listened, only interjecting a query27 or two. Then he hung up the instrument.
"It is as I thought," he said: "the doctor's slipped again. Had a car waiting for him in Oxford28 Street and when he saw there were no taxi-cabs about, jumped in and was driven eastward29."
"Did you get the number of the car?" asked McNorton.
Beale smiled.
"That's not much use," he said, "he's probably got two or three number-plates."
He looked at his watch.
"I'll go along to Kingston," he said.
"I shan't be able to come with you," said McNorton, "I have a meeting with the commissioner30 at five."
"Before you go," remarked Beale, "you might put your signature to this declaration of my _bona fides_."
He laid on the table a blue foolscap blank.
"What's this?" asked the surprised McNorton, "an application for a special licence--are you going to be married?"
"I hope so," said the other cautiously.
"You don't seem very cheerful about it. I presume you want me to testify to the urgency of the case. I am probably perjuring31 myself." He signed his name with a flourish. "When are you getting the licence and what's the hurry?"
"I am getting the licence to-morrow," said Beale.
"And the lady's name is----?"
"I thought you had noticed it," smiled the other, deftly32 blotting33 and folding the form.
"Not Miss Cresswell?" demanded the police chief in surprise.
"Miss Cresswell it is."
"But I thought----"
"There are circumstances which may be brought to your official notice, McNorton," said the detective, "for the present it is necessary to keep my plan a secret."
"Has it anything to do with the Green Rust?" asked the other jokingly.
"A great deal to do with the Green Rust."
"Well, I'll get along," said McNorton. "I will telephone the Kingston police to give you all the assistance possible, but I am afraid you will learn nothing from the tramp till the morning, and perhaps not then."
He took his leave soon after.
"Now, Homo, it is up to you and me," said Beale. "You will have to keep close to me after to-morrow. Make yourself at home here until I come back."
"One moment," said Homo, as Beale rose and gathered up his hat and gloves to depart. "Before you go I want you to understand clearly that I am taking on this job because it offers me a chance that I haven't had since I fell from grace, if you will excuse the _cliche_."
"That I understand," said Beale.
"I may be doing you a very bad turn."
"I'll take that risk," said Beale.
"On your own head be it," said Homo, his hard face creased34 in a fleeting35 smile.
Beale's car was waiting, but his departure was unexpectedly delayed. As he passed down the stairs into the vestibule he saw a stranger standing36 near the door reading the enamelled name-plates affixed37 to the wall. Something in his appearance arrested Beale. The man was well dressed in the sense that his clothes were new and well cut, but the pattern of the cloth, no less than the startling yellowness of the boots and that unmistakable sign-manual of the foreigner, the shape and colour of the cravat38, stamped him as being neither American nor British.
"Can I be of any assistance?" asked Beale. "Are you looking for somebody?"
The visitor turned a pink face to him.
"You are very good," he said with the faint trace of an accent. "I understand that Doctor van Heerden lives here?"
"Yes, he lives here," said Beale, "but I am afraid he is not at home."
He thought it might be a patient or a summons to a patient.
"Not at home?" The man's face fell. "But how unfortunate! Could you tell me where I can find him, my business is immediate39 and I have come a long way."
From Germany, guessed Beale. The mail train was due at Charing40 Cross half an hour before.
"I am a friend of Doctor van Heerden and possibly I can assist you. Is the business very important? Does it concern," he hesitated, "the Green Rust?"
He spoke41 the last sentence in German and the man started and looked at him with mingled42 suspicion and uncertainty43.
"It is a matter of the greatest importance," he repeated, "it is of vital importance."
He spoke in German.
"About the Green Rust?" asked Beale, in the same language.
"I do not know anything of the Green Rust," said the man hurriedly. "I am merely the bearer of a communication which is of the greatest importance." He repeated the words--"the greatest importance."
"If you give me the letter," said Beale, "I will see that it is sent on to him," and he held out his hand with the assurance of one who shared the dearest secrets of the doctor. The stranger's hand wandered to his breast pocket, but came back empty.
"No, it must be given--I must see the doctor himself," he said. "He does not expect me and I will wait."
Beale thought quickly.
"Well, perhaps you will come upstairs to my flat and wait," he said genially44, and led the way, and the man, still showing evidence of uneasiness, was ushered45 into his room, where the sight of the Rev46. Parson Homo tended to reassure47 him.
Would he have tea? He would not have tea. Would he take coffee? He would not take coffee. A glass of wine perhaps? No, he did not drink wine nor beer, nor would he take any refreshment48 whatever.
"My man," thought the desperate Beale, "I either chloroform you or hit you on the head with the poker49, but I am going to see that letter."
As if divining his thought, but placing thereon a wrong construction, the man said:
"I should avail myself of your kindness to deliver my letter to Doctor van Heerden, but of what service would it be since it is only a letter introducing me to the good doctor?"
"Oh, is that all?" said Beale, disappointed, and somehow he knew the man spoke the truth.
"That is all," he said, "except of course my message, which is verbal. My name is Stardt, you may have heard the doctor speak of me. We have had some correspondence."
"Yes, yes, I remember," lied Beale.
"The message is for him alone, of course, as you will understand, and if I deliver it to you," smiled Herr Stardt, "you should not understand it, because it is one word."
"One word?" said Beale blankly. "A code--hang!"
收听单词发音 |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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lucid
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| adj.明白易懂的，清晰的，头脑清楚的 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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insolently
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| adv.自豪地，自傲地 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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decency
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| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
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imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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enjoin
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| v.命令；吩咐；禁止 | |
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rust
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| n.锈；v.生锈；(脑子)衰退 | |
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suave
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| adj.温和的；柔和的；文雅的 | |
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attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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persistence
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| n.坚持，持续，存留 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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immoral
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| adj.不道德的，淫荡的，荒淫的，有伤风化的 | |
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exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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conspiracy
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civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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curiously
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query
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| n.疑问，问号，质问；vt.询问，表示怀疑 | |
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Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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commissioner
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| n.（政府厅、局、处等部门）专员，长官，委员 | |
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perjuring
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| v.发假誓，作伪证( perjure的现在分词 ) | |
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deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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blotting
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| 吸墨水纸 | |
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creased
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| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的过去式和过去分词 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹； 皱皱巴巴 | |
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fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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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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affixed
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| adj.[医]附着的，附着的v.附加( affix的过去式和过去分词 )；粘贴；加以；盖（印章） | |
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cravat
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| n.领巾，领结；v.使穿有领结的服装，使结领结 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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charing
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| n.炭化v.把…烧成炭，把…烧焦( char的现在分词 )；烧成炭，烧焦；做杂役女佣 | |
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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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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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genially
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| adv.亲切地，和蔼地；快活地 | |
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ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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rev
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| v.发动机旋转，加快速度 | |
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reassure
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| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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48
refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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