The letters were gone!
Having once made up his mind to the fact of their disappearance1, therewas nothing to do but accept it. Anthony realized very well that he couldnot pursue Giuseppe through the corridors of the Blitz Hotel. To do so wasto court undesired publicity2, and in all probability to fail in his object allthe same.
He came to the conclusion that Giuseppe had mistaken the packets ofletters, enclosed as they were in the other wrappings, for the memoirsthemselves. It was likely therefore that when he discovered his mistake hewould make another attempt to get hold of the memoirs3. For this attemptAnthony intended to be fully4 prepared.
Another plan that occurred to him was to advertise discreetly5 for the re-turn of the package of letters. Supposing Giuseppe to be an emissary of theComrades of the Red Hand, or, which seemed to Anthony more probable,to be employed by the Loyalist party, the letters could have no possible in-terest for either employer and he would probably jump at the chance ofobtaining a small sum of money for their return.
Having thought out all this, Anthony returned to bed and slept peace-fully until morning. He did not fancy that Giuseppe would be anxious for asecond encounter that night.
Anthony got up with his plan of campaign fully thought-out. He had agood breakfast, glanced at the papers which were full of the new discover-ies of oil in Herzoslovakia, and then demanded an interview with themanager and being Anthony Cade, with a gift for getting his own way bymeans of quiet determination he obtained what he asked for.
The manager, a Frenchman with an exquisitely6 suave7 manner, receivedhim in his private office.
“You wished to see me, I understand, Mr.—er—McGrath?”
“I did. I arrived at your hotel yesterday afternoon and I had dinnerserved to me in my own rooms by a waiter whose name was Giuseppe.”
He paused.
“I daresay we have a waiter of that name,” agreed the manager indiffer-ently.
“I was struck by something unusual in the man’s manner, but thoughtnothing more of it at the time. Later, in the night, I was awakened8 by thesound of someone moving softly about the room. I switched on the light,and found this same Giuseppe in the act of rifling my leather suitcase.”
The manager’s indifference9 had completely disappeared now.
“But I have heard nothing of this,” he exclaimed. “Why was I not in-formed sooner?”
“The man and I had a brief struggle—he was armed with a knife, by theway. In the end he succeeded in making off by way of the window.”
“What did you do then, Mr. McGrath?”
“I examined the contents of my suitcase.”
“Had anything been taken?”
“Nothing of—importance,” said Anthony slowly.
The manager leaned back with a sigh.
“I am glad of that,” he remarked. “But you will allow me to say, Mr. Mc-Grath, that I do not quite understand your attitude in the matter. Youmade no attempt to arouse the hotel? To pursue the thief?”
Anthony shrugged10 his shoulders.
“Nothing of value had been taken, as I tell you. I am aware, of course,that strictly11 speaking it is a case for the police—”
He paused, and the manager murmured without any particular enthusi-asm:
“For the police—of course—”
“In any case, I was fairly certain that the man would manage to makegood his escape, and since nothing was taken, why bother with the po-lice?”
The manager smiled a little.
“I see that you realize, Mr. McGrath, that I am not at all anxious to havethe police called in. From my point of view it is always disastrous12. If thenewspapers can get hold of anything connected with a big fashionablehotel such as this, they always run it for all it is worth, no matter how in-significant the real subject may be.”
“Quite so,” agreed Anthony. “Now I told you that nothing of value hadbeen taken, and that was perfectly13 true in a sense. Nothing of any value tothe thief was taken, but he got hold of something which is of considerablevalue to me.”
“Ah?”
“Letters, you understand.”
An expression of superhuman discretion14, only to be achieved by aFrenchman, settled down upon the manager’s face.
“I comprehend,” he murmured. “But perfectly. Naturally, it is not a mat-ter for the police.”
“We are quite agreed upon that point. But you will understand that Ihave every intention of recovering these letters. In the part of the worldwhere I come from, people are used to doing things for themselves. What Irequire from you therefore is the fullest possible information you can giveme about this waiter, Giuseppe.”
“I see no objection to that,” said the manager after a moment or two’spause. “I cannot give you the information offhand15, of course, but if youwill return in half an hour’s time I will have everything ready to lay be-fore you.”
“Thank you very much. That will suit me admirably.”
In half an hour’s time, Anthony returned to the office again to find thatthe manager had been as good as his word. Jotted16 down on a piece of pa-per were all the relevant facts known about Giuseppe Manelli.
“He came to us, you see, about three months ago. A skilled and experien-ced waiter. Has given complete satisfaction. He has been in England aboutfive years.”
Together the two men ran over a list of the hotels and restaurantswhere the Italian had worked. One fact struck Anthony as being possiblyof significance. At two of the hotels in question there had been seriousrobberies during the time that Giuseppe was employed there, though nosuspicion of any kind had attached to him in either case. Still, the fact wassignificant.
Was Giuseppe merely a clever hotel thief? Had his search of Anthony’ssuitcase been only part of his habitual18 professional tactics? He might justpossibly have had the packet of letters in his hand at the moment whenAnthony switched on the light, and have shoved it into his pocket mechan-ically so as to have his hands free. In that case, the thing was mere17 plainor garden robbery.
Against that, there was to be put the man’s excitement of the evening be-fore when he had caught sight of the papers lying on the table. There hadbeen no money or object of value there such as would excite the cupidityof an ordinary thief.
No, Anthony felt convinced that Giuseppe had been acting19 as a tool forsome outside agency. With the information supplied to him by the man-ager, it might be possible to learn something about Giuseppe’s private lifeand so finally track him down. He gathered up the sheet of paper androse.
“Thank you very much indeed. It’s quite unnecessary to ask, I suppose,whether Giuseppe is still in the hotel?”
The manager smiled.
“His bed was not slept in, and all his things have been left behind. Hemust have rushed straight out after his attack upon you. I don’t thinkthere is much chance of our seeing him again.”
“I imagine not. Well, thank you very much indeed. I shall be staying onhere for the present.”
“I hope you will be successful in your task, but I confess that I am ratherdoubtful.”
“I always hope for the best.”
One of Anthony’s first proceedings20 was to question some of the otherwaiters who had been friendly with Giuseppe, but he obtained very littleto go upon. He wrote out an advertisement on the lines he had planned,and had it sent to five of the most widely read newspapers. He was justabout to go out and visit the restaurant at which Giuseppe had been previ-ously employed when the telephone rang. Anthony took up the receiver.
“Hullo, what is it?”
A toneless voice replied.
“Am I speaking to Mr. McGrath?”
“You are. Who are you?”
“This is Messrs. Balderson and Hodgkins. Just a minute, please. I will putyou through to Mr. Balderson.”
“Our worthy21 publishers,” thought Anthony. “So they are getting worriedtoo, are they? They needn’t. There’s a week to run still.”
A hearty22 voice struck suddenly upon his ear.
“Hullo! That Mr. McGrath?”
“Speaking.”
“I’m Mr. Balderson of Balderson and Hodgkins. What about that manu-script, Mr. McGrath?”
“Well,” said Anthony, “what about it?”
“Everything about it. I understand, Mr. McGrath, that you have just ar-rived in this country from South Africa. That being so, you can’t possiblyunderstand the position. There’s going to be trouble about that manu-script, Mr. McGrath, big trouble. Sometimes I wish we’d never said we’dhandle it.”
“Indeed?”
“I assure you it’s so. At present I’m anxious to get it into my possessionas quickly as possible, so as to have a couple of copies made. Then, if theoriginal is destroyed—well, no harm will be done.”
“Dear me,” said Anthony.
“Yes, I expect it sounds absurd to you, Mr. McGrath. But, I assure you,you don’t appreciate the situation. There’s a determined23 effort being madeto prevent its ever reaching this office. I say to you quite frankly24 andwithout humbug25 that if you attempt to bring it yourself it’s ten to one thatyou’ll never get here.”
“I doubt that,” said Anthony. “When I want to get anywhere, I usuallydo.”
“You’re up against a very dangerous lot of people. I wouldn’t have be-lieved it myself a month ago. I tell you, Mr. McGrath, we’ve been bribedand threatened and cajoled by one lot and another until we don’t knowwhether we’re on our heads or our heels. My suggestion is that you do notattempt to bring the manuscript here. One of our people will call upon youat the hotel and take possession of it.”
“And supposing the gang does him in?” asked Anthony.
“The responsibility would then be ours—not yours. You would have de-livered it to our representative and obtained a written discharge. Thecheque for—er—a thousand pounds which we are instructed to hand toyou will not be available until Wednesday next by the terms of our agree-ment with the executors of the late — er — author — you know whom Imean, but if you insist I will send my own cheque for that amount by themessenger.”
Anthony reflected for a minute or two. He had intended to keep thememoirs until the last day of grace, because he was anxious to see forhimself what all the fuss was about. Nevertheless, he realized the force ofthe publisher’s arguments.
“All right,” he said, with a little sigh. “Have it your own way. Send yourman along. And if you don’t mind sending that cheque as well I’d ratherhave it now, as I may be going out of England before next Wednesday.”
“Certainly, Mr. McGrath. Our representative will call upon you firstthing tomorrow morning. It will be wiser not to send anyone direct fromthe office. Our Mr. Holmes lives in South London. He will call in on hisway to us, and will give you a receipt for the package. I suggest that to-night you should place a dummy26 packet in the manager’s safe. Your en-emies will get to hear of this, and it will prevent any attack being madeupon your apartments tonight.”
“Very well, I will do as you direct.”
Anthony hung up the receiver with a thoughtful face.
Then he went on with his interrupted plan of seeking news of the slip-pery Giuseppe. He drew a complete blank, however. Giuseppe had workedat the restaurant in question, but nobody seemed to know anything of hisprivate life or associates.
“But I’ll get you, my lad,” murmured Anthony, between his teeth. “I’ll getyou yet. It’s only a matter of time.”
His second night in London was entirely27 peaceful.
At nine o’clock the following morning, the card of Mr. Holmes fromMessrs. Balderson and Hodgkins was sent up, and Mr. Holmes followed it.
A small, fair man with a quiet manner. Anthony handed over the manu-script, and received in exchange a cheque for a thousand pounds. Mr.
Holmes packed up the manuscript in the small brown bag he carried,wished Anthony good morning, and departed. The whole thing seemedvery tame.
“But perhaps he’ll be murdered on the way there,” Anthony murmuredaloud, as he stared idly out of the window. “I wonder now—I very muchwonder.”
He put the cheque in an envelope, enclosed a few lines of writing with it,and sealed it up carefully. Jimmy, who had been more or less in funds atthe time of his encounter with Anthony at Bulawayo, had advanced him asubstantial sum of money which was, as yet, practically untouched.
“If one job’s done with, the other isn’t,” said Anthony to himself. “Up tonow, I’ve bungled28 it. But never say die. I think that, suitably disguised, Ishall go and have a look at 487 Pont Street.”
He packed his belongings29, went down and paid his bill, and ordered hisluggage to be put on a taxi. Suitably rewarding those who stood in hispath, most of whom had done nothing whatever materially to add to hiscomfort, he was on the point of being driven off, when a small boy rusheddown the steps with a letter.
“Just come for you, this very minute, sir.”
With a sigh, Anthony produced yet another shilling. The taxi groanedheavily and jumped forward with a hideous30 crashing of gears, and An-thony opened the letter.
It was rather a curious document. He had to read it four times before hecould be sure of what it was all about. Put in plain English (the letter wasnot in plain English, but in the peculiar31 involved style common to missivesissued by government officials) it presumed that Mr. McGrath was arriv-ing in England from South Africa today—Thursday, it referred obliquely32 tothe memoirs of Count Stylptitch, and begged Mr. McGrath to do nothing inthe matter until he had had a confidential33 conversation with Mr. GeorgeLomax, and certain other parties whose magnificence was vaguely34 hintedat. It also contained a definite invitation to go down to Chimneys as theguest of Lord Caterham, on the following day, Friday.
A mysterious and thoroughly35 obscure communication. Anthony enjoyedit very much.
“Dear old England,” he murmured affectionately. “Two days behind thetimes, as usual. Rather a pity. Still, I can’t go down to Chimneys underfalse pretences36. I wonder, though, if there’s an inn handy? Mr. AnthonyCade might stay at the inn without anyone being the wiser.”
He leaned out of the window, and gave new directions to the taxi driver,who acknowledged them with a snort of contempt.
The taxi drew up before one of London’s more obscure hostelries. Thefare, however, was paid on a scale befitting its point of departure.
Having booked a room in the name of Anthony Cade, Anthony passedinto a dingy37 writing room, took out a sheet of notepaper stamped with thelegend Hotel Blitz, and wrote rapidly.
He explained that he had arrived on the preceding Tuesday, that he hadhanded over the manuscript in question to Messrs. Balderson andHodgkins, and he regretfully declined the kind invitation of Lord Cater-ham as he was leaving England almost immediately. He signed the letter“Yours faithfully, James McGrath.”
And now,” said Anthony, as he affixed38 the stamp to the envelope. “Tobusiness. Exit James McGrath, and Enter Anthony Cade.”
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1
disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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publicity
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| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
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memoirs
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| n.回忆录；回忆录传( mem,自oir的名词复数) | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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suave
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| adj.温和的；柔和的；文雅的 | |
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awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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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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discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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offhand
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| adj.临时，无准备的；随便，马虎的 | |
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jotted
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mere
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habitual
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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proceedings
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worthy
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hearty
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determined
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frankly
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humbug
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dummy
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entirely
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bungled
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| v.搞糟，完不成( bungle的过去式和过去分词 )；笨手笨脚地做；失败；完不成 | |
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belongings
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hideous
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peculiar
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obliquely
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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vaguely
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thoroughly
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pretences
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dingy
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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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