The Man in the Brown Suit (29 page)

“But we're wandering from the point. The question is what to do with you. Your narrative was admirably clear, but there is one thing that still escapes me. Where are the diamonds now?”

“Harry Rayburn has them,” I said, watching him.

His face did not change, it retained its expression of sardonic good humour.

“H'm. I want those diamonds.”

“I don't see much chance of your getting them,” I replied.

“Don't you? Now I do. I don't want to be unpleasant, but I should like you to reflect that a dead girl or so found in this quarter of the city will occasion no surprise. There's a man downstairs who does those sort of jobs very neatly. Now, you're a sensible young woman. What I propose is this: you will sit down and write to Harry Rayburn, telling him to join you here and bring the diamonds with him—”

“I won't do anything of the kind.”

“Don't interrupt your elders. I propose to make a bargain with you. The diamonds in exchange for your life. And don't make any mistake about it, your life is absolutely in my power.”

“And Harry?”

“I'm far too tenderhearted to part two young lovers. He shall go free too—on the understanding, of course, that neither of you interfere with me in the future.”

“And what guarantee have I that you will keep your side of the bargain?”

“None whatever, my dear girl. You'll have to trust me and hope for the best. Of course, if you're in an heroic mood and prefer annihilation, that's another matter.”

This was what I had been playing for. I was careful not to jump at the bait. Gradually I allowed myself to be bullied and cajoled into yielding. I wrote at Sir Eustace's dictation:

“Dear Harry,

I think I see a chance of establishing your innocence beyond any possible doubt. Please follow my instructions minutely. Go to Agrasato's curioshop. Ask to see something ‘out of the ordinary,' ‘for a special occasion.' The man will then ask you to ‘come into the back room.' Go with him. You will find a messenger who will bring you to me. Do exactly as he tells you. Be sure and bring the diamonds with you. Not a word to anyone.”

Sir Eustace stopped.

“I leave the fancy touches to your own imagination,” he remarked. “But be careful to make no mistakes.”

“ ‘Yours for ever and ever, Anne,' will be sufficient,” I remarked.

I wrote in the words. Sir Eustace stretched out his hand for the letter and read it through.

“That seems all right. Now the address.”

I gave it him. It was that of a small shop which received letters and telegrams for a consideration.

He struck the bell upon the table with his hand. Chichester-Pettigrew,
alias
Minks, answered the summons.

“This letter is to go immediately—the usual route.”

“Very well, Colonel.”

He looked at the name on the envelope. Sir Eustace was watching him keenly.

“A friend of yours, I think?”

“Of mine?” The man seemed startled.

“You had a prolonged conversation with him in Johannesburg yesterday.”

“A man came up and questioned me about your movements and those of Colonel Race. I gave him misleading information.”

“Excellent, my dear fellow, excellent,” said Sir Eustace genially. “My mistake.”

I chanced to look at Chichester-Pettigrew as he left the room. He was white to the lips, as though in deadly terror. No sooner was he outside, than Sir Eustace picked up a speaking tube that rested by his elbow, and spoke down it. “That you, Schwart? Watch Minks. He's not to leave the house without orders.”

He put the speaking tube down again, and frowned, slightly tapping the table with his hand.

“May I ask you a few questions, Sir Eustace,” I said, after a minute or two of silence.

“Certainly. What excellent nerves you have, Anne! You are capable of taking an intelligent interest in things when most girls would be sniffling and wringing their hands.”

“Why did you take Harry as your secretary instead of giving him up to the police?”

“I wanted those cursed diamonds. Nadina, the little devil, was playing off your Harry against me. Unless I gave her the price she wanted, she threatened to sell them back to him. That was another mistake I made—I thought she'd have them with her that day. But she was too clever for that. Carton, her husband, was dead too—I'd no clue whatsoever as to where the diamonds were hidden. Then I managed to get a copy of a wireless message sent to Nadina by someone on board the
Kilmorden
—either Carton or Rayburn, I didn't know which. It was a duplicate of that piece of paper you picked up. ‘Seventeen one twenty two,' it ran. I took it to be an appointment with Rayburn, and when he was so desperate to get aboard the
Kilmorden
I was convinced that I was right. So I pretended to swallow his statements, and let him come. I kept a pretty sharp watch upon him and hoped that I should learn more. Then I found Minks trying to play a lone hand, and interfering with me. I soon stopped that. He came to heel all right. It was annoying not getting Cabin 17, and it worried me not being able to place you. Were you the innocent young girl you seemed, or were you not? When Rayburn set out to keep the appointment that night, Minks was told off to intercept him. Minks muffed it, of course.”

“But why did the wireless message say ‘seventeen' instead of ‘seventy-one?' ”

“I've thought that out. Carton must have given that wireless operator his own memorandum to copy off on to a form, and he never read the copy through. The operator made the same mistake we all did, and read it as 17.1.22 instead of 1.71.22. The thing I don't know is how Minks got on to Cabin 17. It must have been sheer instinct.”

“And the dispatch to General Smuts? Who tampered with that?”

“My dear Anne, you don't suppose I was going to have a lot of my plans given away, without making an effort to save them? With an escaped murderer as a secretary, I had no hesitation whatever in substituting blanks. Nobody would think of suspecting poor old Pedler.”

“What about Colonel Race?”

“Yes, that was a nasty jar. When Pagett told me he was a Secret Service fellow, I had an unpleasant feeling down the spine. I remembered that he'd been nosing around Nadina in Paris during the War—and I had a horrible suspicion that he was out after
me!
I don't like the way he's stuck to me ever since. He's one of those strong, silent men who have always got something up their sleeve.”

A whistle sounded. Sir Eustace picked up the tube, listened for a minute or two, then answered:

“Very well, I'll see him now.”

“Business,” he remarked. “Miss Anne, let me show you your room.”

He ushered me into a small shabby apartment, a Kafir boy brought up my small suitcase, and Sir Eustace, urging me to ask for anything I wanted, withdrew, the picture of a courteous host. A can of hot water was on the washstand, and I proceeded to unpack a few necessaries. Something hard and unfamiliar in my spongebag puzzled me greatly. I untied the string and looked inside.

To my utter amazement I drew out a small pearl-handled revolver. It hadn't been there when I started from Kimberley. I examined the thing gingerly. It appeared to be loaded.

I handled it with a comfortable feeling. It was a useful thing to have in a house such as this. But modern clothes are quite unsuited to the carrying of firearms. In the end I pushed it gingerly into the top of my stocking. It made a terrible bulge, and I expected every minute that it would go off and shoot me in the leg, but it really seemed the only place.

Thirty-three

I
was not summoned to Sir Eustace's presence until late in the afternoon. Eleven-o'clock tea and a substantial lunch had been served to me in my own apartment, and I felt fortified for further conflict.

Sir Eustace was alone. He was walking up and down the room, there was a gleam in his eye and a restlessness in his manner which did not escape me. He was exultant about something. There was a subtle change in his manner towards me.

“I have news for you. Your young man is on his way. He will be here in a few minutes. Moderate your transports—I have something more to say. You attempted to deceive me this morning. I warned you that you would be wise to stick to the truth, and up to a certain point you obeyed me. Then you ran off the rails. You attempted to make me believe that the diamonds were in Harry Rayburn's possession. At the time I accepted your statement because it facilitated my task—the task of inducing you to decoy Harry Rayburn here. But, my dear Anne, the diamonds have been in my possession ever since I left the Falls—though I only discovered the fact yesterday.”

“You know!” I gasped.

“It may interest you to hear that it was Pagett who gave the show away. He insisted on boring me with a long pointless story about a wager and a tin of films. It didn't take me long to put two and two together—Mrs. Blair's distrust of Colonel Race, her agitation, her entreaty that I would take care of her souvenirs for her. The excellent Pagett had already unfastened the cases through an excess of zeal. Before leaving the hotel, I simply transferred all the rolls of films to my own pocket. They are in the corner there. I admit that I haven't had time to examine them yet, but I notice that one is of a totally different weight to the others, rattles in a peculiar fashion, and has evidently been stuck down with seccotine, which will necessitate the use of a tin opener. The case seems clear, does it not? And now, you see, I have you both nicely in the trap . . . It's a pity that you didn't take kindly to the idea of becoming Lady Pedler.”

I did not answer. I stood looking at him.

There was the sound of feet on the stairs, the door was flung open, and Harry Rayburn was hustled into the room between two men. Sir Eustace flung me a look of triumph.

“According to plan,” he said softly. “You amateurs
will
pit yourselves against professionals.”

“What's the meaning of this?” cried Harry hoarsely.

“It means that you have walked into my parlour—said the spider to the fly,” remarked Sir Eustace facetiously. “My dear Rayburn, you are extraordinarily unlucky.”

“You said I could come safely, Anne.”

“Do not reproach her, my dear fellow. That note was written at my dictation, and the lady could not help herself. She would have been wiser not to write it, but I did not tell her so at the time. You followed her instructions, went to the curioshop, were taken through the secret passage from the back room—and found yourself in the hands of your enemies!”

Harry looked at me. I understood his glance and edged nearer to Sir Eustace.

“Yes,” murmured the latter, “decidedly you are not lucky! This is—let me see, the third encounter.”

“You are right,” said Harry. “This is the third encounter. Twice you have worsted me—have you never heard that the third time the luck changes? This is my round—cover him, Anne.”

I was all ready. In a flash I had whipped the pistol out of my stocking and was holding it to his head. The two men guarding Harry sprang forward, but his voice stopped them.

“Another step—and he dies! If they come any nearer, Anne, pull the trigger—don't hesitate.”

“I shan't,” I replied cheerfully. “I'm rather afraid of pulling it, anyway.”

I think Sir Eustace shared my fears. He was certainly shaking like a jelly.

“Stay where you are,” he commanded, and the men stopped obediently.

“Tell them to leave the room,” said Harry.

Sir Eustace gave the order. The men filed out, and Harry shot the bolt across the door behind them.

“Now we can talk,” he observed grimly, and, coming across the room, he took the revolver out of my hand.

Sir Eustace uttered a sigh of relief and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief.

“I'm shockingly out of condition,” he observed. “I think I must have a weak heart. I am glad that revolver is in competent hands. I didn't trust Miss Anne with it. Well, my young friend, as you say, now we can talk. I'm willing to admit that you stole a march upon me. Where the devil that revolver came from I don't know. I had the girl's luggage searched when she arrived. And where did you produce it from now? You hadn't got it on you a minute ago?”

“Yes, I had,” I replied. “It was in my stocking.”

“I don't know enough about women. I ought to have studied them more,” said Sir Eustace sadly. “I wonder if Pagett would have known that?”

Harry rapped sharply on the table.

“Don't play the fool. If it weren't for your grey hairs, I'd throw you out of the window. You damned scoundrel! Grey hairs, or no grey hairs, I—”

He advanced a step or two, and Sir Eustace skipped nimbly behind the table.

“The young are always so violent,” he said reproachfully. “Unable to use their brains, they rely solely on their muscles. Let us talk sense. For the moment you have the upper hand. But that state of affairs cannot continue. The house is full of my men. You are hopelessly outnumbered. Your momentary ascendancy has been gained by an accident—”

“Has it?”

Something in Harry's voice, a grim raillery, seemed to attract Sir Eustace's attention. He stared at him.

“Has it?” said Harry again. “Sit down, Sir Eustace, and listen to what I have to say.” Still covering him with the revolver, he went on: “The cards are against you this time. To begin with, listen to
that!
”

That
was a dull banging at the door below. There were shouts, oaths, and then a sound of firing. Sir Eustace paled.

“What's that?”

“Race—and his people. You didn't know, did you, Sir Eustace, that Anne had an arrangement with me by which we should know whether communications from one to the other were genuine? Telegrams were to be signed ‘Andy,' letters were to have the word ‘and' crossed out somewhere in them. Anne knew that your telegram was a fake. She came here of her own free will, walked deliberately into the snare, in the hope that she might catch you in your own trap. Before leaving Kimberley she wired both to me and to Race. Mrs. Blair has been in communication with us ever since. I received the letter written at your dictation, which was just what I expected. I had already discussed the probabilities of a secret passage leading out of the curioshop with Race, and he had discovered the place where the exit was situated.”