Eye For A Tooth (20 page)

Biretta looked up.

“D’you know Forecast’s record?” he said.

“Not yet,” said Mansel. “I expect to receive it quite soon. But that is beside the point. His statement is not without interest. I’ll tell you why.

“When Mr Forecast was instructed to leave for Austria to search for the corpse of a recently murdered man, he did not fancy the task. More. It seemed to him, shall we say, a work of supererogation; and, before he undertook it, he felt that he should know why he was asked to do such a thing. And so he inquired…and was told…by Miss Bauchen, your confidential clerk.”

Biretta turned green in the face, made a hideous, gobbling noise, clawed at the air and slid to the ground in a faint.

Mansel loosened his collar, and George poured out some water and dashed it into his face. When he came to, they helped him on to a sofa and gave him a brandy and soda – half and half. But though that revived his flesh, his spirit was down and out: and when presently Mansel asked if he still wished to make a statement—

“You’ll have to help me,” he whimpered. “I’m not myself.”

“Listen, Mr Biretta. I do not advise you to make one, unless you tell the whole of the truth. I wish to be frank with you. Mr Cain’s statement will do him more harm than good.”

“I’m glad of that,” said Biretta, miserably.

“But that is not as it should be. A statement should do its maker more good than harm. And so, in my experience, it always does – provided that the statement discloses the whole of the truth.”

A gleam of hope slid into Biretta’s eyes.

“May I ask,” he faltered, “may I ask what you mean by that?”

“I can make no promises,” said Mansel. “But at present, at any rate, you are not under arrest. That is because so far, to the best of my belief, you have not told me a lie. And if we are satisfied with your statement, and if you give certain undertakings, it may – I do not say it will – but it may serve our purpose better not to put you under arrest. We have the Duke of Varvic and Mr Cain. The others are at our disposal. If the statement you make comes up to our expectations, that may, or may not, suffice – so far as you are concerned.”

Biretta drained his glass.

“Tell me where to begin,” he said…

I will not set out the statement, which took a long time to take down, for it said almost exactly what we had come to believe.

By his father’s Will, Worsted and Co. had held Bowshot’s fortune in Trust. The greater part of this they had stolen away, reserving a very small portion with which to pay the true income for several years. Then Bowshot had spoken of Beehive… And then it had come to their knowledge that this very autumn Beehive would come to be sold. It was when they were at their wits’ end that Saul had approached them and requested them to arrange that Bowshot should die…

George took the statement down. When it was finished Mansel gave it to Biretta and bade him read it through. When he had done so, he asked him if it was correct. Biretta said that it was.

“Then kindly initial each page.” Biretta did so. “Now write at the foot these words –
I have read the above statement through and have found it correct
.” Biretta did so. “And now your signature.” Biretta signed his name.

Mansel glanced at his writing and handed the statement to George. Then he returned to Biretta.

“And now may I have your passport?”

Without a word of protest, Biretta yielded it up.

Mansel glanced at this and gave it to George.

Then he looked at his watch.

“You are now at liberty to go to Latchet,” he said.

Biretta stared.

“But I thought this was Latchet,” he said.

“This is District Headquarters,” said Mansel. “Latchet is several miles distant. The plain-clothes men who brought you will take you there.” There he nodded to George, who left the room. “But I must make this request – that you will not abuse this licence, that you will not quit the inn without letting me know.”

“That is understood,” said Biretta, and got to his feet. “But I trust you will see your way to – er – to…”

“Mr Biretta,” said Mansel, “I have already said that I can make no promises. It would not be right. But that you have made a full statement is in your favour. Had Mr Cain done the same, I do not think he would now be under arrest.”

Biretta bowed.

Then—

“Is there any question,” he said, “of Cain’s being let out on bail?”

“Not at present,” said Mansel, gravely. “Should he be released on bail, I will let you know. But if you would like to see him–”

“No, no,” cried Biretta, recoiling. “On no account. It would only lead to unpleasantness.” He swallowed. “I feel very strongly about it. If I knew he was coming to Latchet, I should prefer to leave before he arrived.”

“I will bear that in mind,” said Mansel.

“If you would,” said Biretta, blinking.

Here George re-entered the room.

Mansel asked him in German whether the car was without. George ventured to say “
Jawohl
” and held open the door.

“Then, Mr Biretta,” said Mansel, “ I will bid you good day.”

Biretta bowed.

“Er, when,” he faltered, “may I expect to hear from you?”

“In a few days’ time,” said Mansel. “Till then, as I say, I must ask you to stay at the inn.”

“Quite so,” said Biretta, thoughtfully. “Any way, you have my passport.”

“Yes.”

Biretta moistened his lips. He seemed to be steeling himself to say something else. But Mansel nodded to George, who touched the man on the arm.

Biretta started violently.

Then—

“Er – quite so,” he said…

With bolting eyes, he turned and passed out of the room…out of the hall and once more into the Rolls.

As the car stole down the drive, I bent my head and threw a leg over the sill.

Mansel and George were busy with the statement.

“Write
Witnessed by
,” said Mansel, “and then sign your name and put your London address.”

“You first,” said George. “You led the horse to the water and made him drink. But why on earth did he do it? He’s damned well scuttled himself.”

“Demoralization,” said Mansel, appending his signature. “The moment I saw him I thought we ought to get home. So, as you observed, I kept hitting him over the heart. And the Bauchen punch finished him. Of course he had a great fall directly he entered this room. He’d assumed that the Rolls was from Varvic – that Saul had sent two of his chauffeurs and one of his cars to carry Biretta the Great to where he was going to lodge. That had made him feel pretty good. And then he realized that the car had been sent by the police… That brought him down with a run. And then he was glad of a chance to get back on Cain.” He passed the statement to George and laid down his pen. “And that is the end of Worsteds. At least, it will be the end, when that confession is read at Scotland Yard. And by the way, it has got to be safe in Salzburg to-morrow at nine o’clock. I think the Banks open then. To keep it here would be foolish, for we’ve nowhere to lock it up: and if Cain did blow into Latchet – well, he’d burn this house over our heads to get it back.”

“I wish he would,” said George. “Goats and monkeys! I’d like to be on in that scene. Talk about misunderstandings! When Biretta says he’s been at District Headquarters…and Cain asks what it looks like…and Biretta says it’s a long, low house, with a porch…”

“I’m afraid it’s unlikely,” said I. “Cain’s nothing to take him to Latchet nowadays.”

Mansel sat up.

“You’re right,” he said. “He hasn’t. And Biretta will stick to Latchet. And so they will not meet. But, if they did meet, and Biretta confessed to the statement – well, as I said just now, I’m perfectly certain that Cain would attack in force.
And that is just what we want
. We want to draw them: we do not want to be drawn. Very well. We drop a hint to Cain that Biretta is now at the inn. And then we take off our coats and await the assault.”

“Oh, very good,” said George. “Very good indeed. I – I can’t be too warm about it. I’d rather be shot dead here than winged at the hunting-lodge.”

“That’s settled, then,” said Mansel. “But at dawn tomorrow you take that statement to Salzburg. And not until you are back and produce the receipt, will I send word to Cain that Biretta is here.”

“I’ll be back at noon,” said George.

He was as good as his word.

At half-past five the next morning he took the road, and he and Rowley were back at a quarter to twelve. He did not even call on the Duchess, but only broke his fast before walking into the Bank at nine o’clock.

Immediately after lunch Mansel drove into Villach and telephoned to Varvic from there. He spoke in German and asked if the Duke was there. I forget what name he gave, but a secretary replied, to say that the Duke was out.

“Have you a pencil?” said Mansel.

The man said yes.

“Then take this down.”

Mr Biretta presents his compliments to his Highness and begs to say that he has arrived at Latchet and is only prevented from calling upon his Highness because he has no car. Mr Biretta would be grateful if his Highness can inform him of the whereabouts of his partner, Mr Cain.”

When the secretary had read this through, Mansel rang off.

Half an hour later he was back at the farm.

“The fuse is burning,” he said. “But we don’t know how long it is, and so we must be on our toes from this time on. Say from nine o’clock tonight, for they’ve got to have their show-down and then they must alter their plans. And that gives us time for a stroll – and a talk about Oxford and trout: for a world without Oxford and trout would be a cheerless place.”

We walked farther than we had intended and did not get back to Goschen till nearly eight o’clock.

Carson was waiting on the steps, with a telegram in his hand.

“When did this come?” said Mansel.

“Two hours ago, sir. Rowley and Bell went out, sir, to find you at once: but they had no luck and they’ve not been in very long.”

Mansel ripped the envelope open with a frown on his face.

The telegram was from the Duchess.

Yes, of course. Will be with you almost as soon as this wire.

CAROLINE OF VARVIC.

George and I stared at each other, but Mansel clapped a hand to his head.

“My God,” he cried. “They’ve taken a leaf from our book.”

And then I realized that Cain had sent a wire to the Duchess and had signed it with one of our names…and that his wire had asked her to come to Goschen at once.

We had the servants in and held a council of war.

“There can be no doubt,” said Mansel, “that the Duchess of Varvic has been decoyed from Salzburg and is by now either at the castle or at the hunting-lodge. But I don’t care where she is, for we’re going to get her out. Up to now, as you know, we have never shown our teeth; yet we’ve done what we liked with the brutes. So now we shall go all out and shall make an end of them.

“I think we should try the lodge first, for the lodge is easy of access, but the castle is not. Does anyone think otherwise?”

Nobody did.

“Very well. Now we can hardly surprise them, for they will be waiting for us: but they will expect some warning of our approach. That warning I propose to deny them: indeed I propose to mislead them, so far as I can.

“Early yesterday morning Carson and I inspected one of the paths which the Duke had made – a path running through the woods on the southern side and into the piece of country we know so well. Sure enough there’s a trap on that path: and we’ve marked the spot where it lies with luminous paint. To make sure of missing the trap, look out for a tree on the left which we marked with a cross: leave the path and pass to the left of that tree: as you pass it, you’ll see another, marked with a ring: pass to the left of that, too, and then return to the path.

“By using this path we shall deny them warning of our approach, for the path won’t be watched or guarded, except by the trap.

“Now how do we reach the path? We can, of course, reach it by leaving the car at Four Mile Point as usual and crossing the fields. But that will take a long time. And so I suggest that we all get into the Rolls and come down from the north…past the mouth of the drive and apparently on after that. In fact we shall stop half a mile from the mouth of the drive. There five of us will alight and enter the fields, and ten minutes later we shall be treading the path. Carson will take the Rolls on and berth her at Four Mile Point and will then make his way to join us as fast as ever he can. The sentry at the mouth of the drive will see us go by and will doubtless report this occurrence. And I don’t think they’ll know what to make of it. To be perfectly honest, I know that I shouldn’t myself.

“Well, that’s the best I can do. But, if it turns out as I hope, at least we shall reach the forecourt before they know we are there. And that should be a great help. Further than that I can’t go, for not until we are there can we see what’s what. But tonight, if you please, we shall take no chances at all. These fellows are out for blood, so I’m going to shoot at sight and you’d all better do the same.”

Ten minutes later the Rolls was upon the road.

It was a quarter to nine when the five of us entered the woods surrounding the hunting-lodge. Mansel was leading and I brought up the rear, so I had but to follow the others to miss the trap; but the luminous paint showed well and, had I been alone, by observing Mansel’s directions I could have reached the forecourt without mishap.

That I was more than uneasy, I here most frankly confess. I could not get away from the fact that we were about to do exactly as the enemy wished; we had watched him work to this end and had smiled in our sleeve: and now here we were about to play into his hands. We had, of course, no choice, for the Duchess had to be saved at any cost: in other words, our hand had been forced: but, because of this, we were going against our judgment and flying in the face of the warning which China gave. Worst of all, I was sure that we were to try a fall with something far more dreadful than blackguard flesh and blood, with some abomination which could not be seen, upon whose domain we were about to trespass against such orders as Instinct seldom gives. Still, there was nothing for it. I had very little doubt that Mansel and George were beset by the same foreboding and were determined to put its endeavours to shame: and so I took hold of myself, cursed my imagination and forced the whole of my mind to the business in hand.

Thanks to the path, we were able to move in silence, yet at a fair speed, and before very long I was able to see ahead the glow of some light. As I had expected, this came from the open door of the hunting-lodge.

All was quiet in the forecourt: indeed, all seemed the same as when we had seen the place three nights before. Only the hall was lighted, and the doorway stood out of the darkness – a tall rectangle of luminance, rather than light.

Mansel was whispering.

“Mr Chandos comes with me; the others stay here.”

Together we moved like shadows towards the steps…

By one consent, we made for the wall of the house, one upon either side of the open door: and when we had gained the wall, we turned to the steps. These were four in number and very low: they were kept by no balustrade, but were splayed as they descended, so that the bottom step was twice the length of the top. Since the latter was longer than the sill, it was easy to crawl to their head, yet keep clear of the open door: and this was what we did. And then we looked over the sill and into the hall.

All was as Mansel had found it, three nights before. The only lamp was hanging above the staircase right at the farther end. Broad and low, the stairs led up to a landing which would have accepted a dance-band, piano and all; from there, as Mansel had reported, two flights of stairs ran up and into archways on either side. But tonight there was something else – something which had not been there three nights before. Hanging over the balustrade was the coat with the fine, fur collar which the Duchess of Varvic had worn when I saw her last.

I glanced at Mansel for instructions, but he was lying quite still, looking down the hall.

Forecast emerged from the archway up on the right, passed down the stairs to the landing and then up the other flight which led to the left. His arm was still in splints and he seemed to be growing a beard. After a moment or two, he reappeared with Auger. That the latter was in high spirits was easy to see. He was laughing and rallying Forecast, who looked very black, and he minced down the steps, pretending to be some great lady, flirting her fan. As he passed, he picked up his mistress’ coat, flung it over his shoulders and strutted to and fro on the landing, alternately ogling Forecast and rocking with silent laughter at his own drollery. And then Cain appeared from the archway up on the right.

If Forecast looked black, the look on Cain’s face was plainly murderous. That awful smile was still there, as though to mock the glare that burned in his eyes: but his face, no longer a mask, seemed the very seat of hatred and savage enmity. That the man had spoken with Biretta, I did not have to be told. He knew what had happened. He knew that his race was run. And his one idea was to wreak the most horrid vengeance on the men who had brought him low.

I could not hear what he said, but he spat out some scathing comment upon the revolting performance which Auger was giving below. The German took this badly and made some offensive reply, perhaps because he knew how his master treated Cain: still he took the coat from his shoulders and put it back where it had been, upon the balustrade, and then, with a very ill grace, he mounted the flight with Forecast and followed Cain, who had gone the way he had come.

Mansel was by my side.

“Now,” he breathed, “is our chance to get up those stairs. I’m going to get the others. We shall, all four, go in, but you must stay here, out of sight. I’m sure there are doors in the tapestry up at this end of the hall. There may be peep-holes, too. And I should think their idea is to let us get to the stairs and then come in behind us and mop us up. If they try that, open fire, and we shall know where we are; but until I hear a shot, I shan’t worry about our rear.”

With that, he was gone – to be back in less than two minutes with George and Rowley and Bell.

“Any more movement, William?”

“Nothing at all.”

“Good. Once we are in, you can come a little closer, for I want you to see as much as you can of the hall: but don’t go over the sill. And don’t forget that now you have no one behind you – except the enemy.”

With that, he lifted his hand, and the four rose up together, passed through the doorway and ran a-tip-toe for the stairs…

They were halfway down the hall, when, with no warning whatever,
they disappeared…and not only they, but the hall and everything
.

As I live, I am telling the truth.

I was lying there watching, with my eyes just above ground level and my chin just touching the sill of the open door. And one moment they were crossing the hall… And the next there
was
no hall…no hall, no staircase, no light – the lot were gone.

As though by some stage magic, a transformation of scene had taken place. The scene which I had been watching had disappeared, and nothing, except pitch darkness, had taken its place. Yes, something else. A wave of well-damp air, foetid and noisome, the very breath of corruption, broke on my face, and I knew, though I could not see, that I was lying on the brink of some deep and terrible pit. A rumbling, slithering sound came to my ears…

I think the hair rose upon my head.

So for perhaps ten seconds…twenty, perhaps…I cannot swear to the time.

And then the foul breath of corruption rose to a breeze…to a blast…I remember, I quailed before it: and, as I quailed, directly under my nose there came a thunderous crash…and there was the hall before me…hall and light and staircase, as they had always been. There was no mistake about it.

Cain and Forecast and Auger were standing above the landing, at the top of the flight of stairs which ran to the right. Cain was smiling, Auger was pointing and laughing, and Forecast had a hand to his mouth. But the hall was empty. Mansel and George and the servants had disappeared.

I despair of describing my emotions.

For a moment I wondered if I had lost consciousness – if the things I have just related belonged to some awful dream, for indeed they were of the stuff of which nightmares are made. And then I knew it was true…that Cain and the German were gloating over their triumph…gloating over the fact that Mansel and George and the servants had been – swallowed up.

To say that I was shaken means nothing. In body and mind I had been profoundly shocked. I felt very sick of my stomach and grievously sick at heart. Indeed, I felt very faint; and had I been standing, I should, I think, have had to sit down. As it was, I laid my forehead against the stone of the sill. It was then that I found that I was trembling…

How what had happened had happened, I could not tell. I supposed some trap had been laid. And China’s words kept hammering on my heart –
But if you go in, you’ll never come out alive
.

Strangely enough, it was the enemy that lugged me out of the depths and set my feet on the ground.

Auger was shouting for Hans, and the sound of his voice cleared my brain.

I had seen what happened, and I was safe and sound. I must wait and watch and make the most of my wits; and then, when Carson came, he and I together would save the others if they were still to be saved, and, if they were not, would take such a vengeance upon Cain and Saul and their fellows as would make them curse the days on which they were born.

Indeed, from being confounded and, so to speak, knocked out, I became strong of body and cool of mind: my brain seemed ice-cold and I felt I had the strength of two men. Of such is the lust for vengeance, for I had next to no hope that Mansel and George and the servants were yet alive.

“Hans,” shouted Auger. “Hans!”

I lay still as death, with my eyes just above the sill.

I heard a man enter the hall.

I could not see him enter, for the entrance was out of my sight: but he came from the left, and as he passed into my view, I heard the thud of a door. This showed that the door was self-closing – that is to say, was controlled by a heavy spring.

With his back to me, he walked towards the staircase – but not very far. He stopped, I should say, a third of the way down the hall. I recognized him at once. It was the burly foreman, whom Mansel and I had watched adjusting the traps.

Cain spoke up.

“Did the signal light go out?”

Auger translated his words, and the foreman replied.

“No. It is still alight.”

“So much for your sentries,” sneered Cain. “How many of the English went down?”

“Four or five – we cannot be certain which.”

“Why not?”

“We had no warning. The signal light was still on. But Kleiner got to the peep-hole just in time.”

“Just too late, you mean.”

“In time to see there were four and possibly five.”

I saw Cain finger his chin.

Then—

“Get back to your post,” he said. “The others will come.”

The Foreman hesitated.

“It occurs to me,” he said, “ that the sentries may have been hurt.”

“Serve them right,” snapped Cain.

“I propose to leave Kleiner here and take Boll to the mouth of the drive.”

“What for?”

The foreman spread out his hands.

“The sentries,” he said, “may be at the point of death.”

“What if they are?”

“One is my son,” said the foreman.

“I can’t help that. They have failed in their duty. Get back to your post.”

Auger did not translate this, but argued with Cain. I do not know what they said, but apparently Cain gave way, for Auger addressed the foreman who nodded his head. As he turned, I sank out of sight. But I heard him cross the hall and then the thud of the door. And when again I lifted my head, Auger had left the others, had crossed the landing and was mounting the opposite flight.

That was as much as I saw, for if I was right and Hans and Boll were to leave for the mouth of the drive, I must be gone before they came to the door. And so I withdrew to the right, slipped off the edge of the steps and lay down against the wall.

Except to join forces with Carson, I had, of course, no plan. Since the odds were six to one, until Carson came I dared not launch an attack. But the enemy had no idea that I was at hand, and I meant to take advantage of any opening he gave. It was now just half-past nine, and Carson could hardly arrive before ten o’clock. Still, if Kleiner was alone in the guardroom…