CHAPTER X
THE LAIR OF SHAW
The walk was not the brief excursion Herbert Ransome Shaw had promised.It was fifteen minutes before he stopped in front of a tall building,which looked like an out-of-date storehouse, and thrust a latch-key intoa dingy door. The bolt was old and rusty. Shaw fumbled with it for halfa minute before it yielded. Then it grudgingly slipped back, and Lauriefollowed his guide into a dark hall, which was cold and damp.
"They don't heat this building." The voice of Shaw came out of thedarkness. He had closed the door and was standing by Laurie's side,fumbling in his pocket for something which proved to be a match-box."They don't light it, either," he explained, unnecessarily, as the blazeof his match made a momentary break in the gloom. "But it's quitecomfortable in my room," he added reassuringly. "I have an open firethere."
As he spoke he led the way down the long hall with his noiseless,gliding steps. Laurie, following close behind him, reflected that theplace was exactly the sort the ophidian Shaw would choose for a lair, along black hole, ending in--what?
The match had gone out and he could see nothing. He kept close to hisguide. He almost expected to hear the creature's scales rattle as itslid along. But snakes like warmth, and this place--Laurie shivered inthe chill and dampness of it. The next instant Shaw pushed open a doorand, standing back, waved his guest into a lighted room.
On first inspection it was a wholly reassuring room, originally intendedfor an office and now turned into a combination of office andliving-apartment. A big reading-lamp with an amber shade, standing on aflat writing-desk, made a pleasant point of illumination. Real logs,large and well seasoned, burned with an agreeable crackle in theold-fashioned fireplace. Before this stood two easy-chairs, comfortablyshabby; and at the arm of one of them a small table held a decanter,glasses, a siphon, and a box of cigars.
As he took in these familiar details, Devon's features unconsciouslyrelaxed. He was very young, and rather cold, and the quick reaction fromthe emotions he had experienced in the outer hall was a relief. Also,Shaw's manner was as reassuring as his homely room. He dropped thevisitor's coat and hat on a worn leather couch, which seemingly servedhim as a bed, and waved a hospitable hand toward an easy-chair.Simultaneously, he casually indicated a figure bending over a table onthe opposite side of the room.
"My secretary," he murmured.
The figure at the table rose and bowed, then sat down again andcontinued its apparent occupation of sorting squares of paper into along, narrow box. In the one glance Laurie gave it, as he returned theother's bow with a casual nod, he decided that the "secretary" wasarranging a card-catalogue. But why the dickens should Shaw have asecretary? On the other hand, why shouldn't he?
Laurie began to feel rather foolish. For a few moments, in that hall, hehad actually been on the point of taking Shaw seriously; and anaftermath of this frame of mind had led him to turn a suspicious regardon a harmless youth whose occupation was as harmless as he himselflooked. Laurie mentally classified the "secretary" as a big but meekblond person, who changed his collars and cuffs every Wednesday andSunday, and took a long walk in the country on Sunday afternoons.
However, the fellow had pursuing eyes. Evidently his work did not needhis whole attention, for his pale blue eyes kept returning to the guest.Once Laurie met them straight, and coolly stared them down. After thisthey pursued him more stealthily. He soon forgot them and their owner.
Despite Shaw's hospitable gestures, Laurie was still standing. He hadchosen a place by the mantel, with one elbow resting upon it; and fromthis point of vantage his black eyes slowly swept the room, taking innow all its details--a type-writer, a letter-file, a waste-paper basketthat needed emptying, a man's worn bedroom slipper coyly projecting fromunder the leather couch, a litter of newspapers.
It was all so reassuringly ordinary that he grinned to himself. Whateverhold this little worm had on Doris--Shaw had even ceased to be a snakeat this point in Laurie's reflections--would be loosed after to-night;and then she could forget the episode that had troubled her, whatever itwas.
At precisely this point in his meditations Laurie's eyes, havingcompleted a tour of the room and returned to the fireplace, made twodiscoveries. The first was that the room had no windows. The second, andstartling one, was that it contained Doris's photograph. The photographstood on the mantel, in a heavy silver frame. It was a large print and agood one. The girl's eyes looked straight into his. Her wonderful upperlip was curved in the half-smile that was so familiar and so baffling.
"Well," the smile asked, "what do you think of it all, now that you arehere? Still a bit confusing, isn't it? For you didn't expect to find_me_ here, seemingly so much at home; did you?"
In the instant when his eyes had found the photograph, Laurie had beenabout to light the inevitable cigarette. The discovery arrested his handand held him for an instant, motionless. Then, with fingers thattrembled, he completed the interrupted action, threw the match into thefire, and with blind eyes stared down into the flames.
In that instant he dared not look at Shaw. He was shaken by an emotionthat left him breathless and almost trembling. What was Doris'sphotograph doing in this man's room? In the momentary amazement and furythat overwhelmed him at the discovery, he told himself that it would nothave been much worse to find her actual presence here.
All this had taken but a moment. Shaw, hospitably busy with his decanterand siphon, had used the interval to fill two glasses, and was nowoffering one to his guest.
"No, thanks." Laurie spoke with abrupt decision.
"No?" Shaw looked pained. Then he smiled a wide smile, and Laurie,seeing it and the man's pointed teeth, mentally changed him again fromthe worm to the serpent. He understood Shaw's mental process. The fellowthought he was afraid to drink the mixture. But what did it matter whatthe fellow thought?
"Perhaps, then, you will have a cigar, and sit down comfortably for ourchat?"
Shaw himself set the example by dropping into one of the easy-chairs andlighting a fat Perfecto. His smooth brown head rested in what seemed anaccustomed hollow of the chair back. His wide, thin lips were pursed insybaritic enjoyment of his cigar. He stretched himself in the warmth ofthe fire, sleek, torpid, and loathsome.
"Mr. Shaw."
"Y-e-s."
Still standing, with his elbow braced against the mantel, the visitortossed his cigarette into the fire and looked down into his host'sprojecting eyes. It appeared that Shaw roused himself with difficultyfrom the gorged comfort of the moment. There was a perceptible intervalbefore he gave his guest his whole attention. Then he straightened inhis chair, and the projecting eyes took on their veiled but watchfullook.
"Yes," he repeated, more briskly.
In the brief interval Laurie had planned his little campaign. He wouldaddress this creature as man to man; for perhaps, after all, there wasmore of the man in him than he revealed.
"I am going to ask you to be frank with me."
"Yes?" Shaw let it go at that.
"When we met on the street it appeared that you were as anxious as I amfor this interview. Will you tell me at once why you brought me here,and what you wish to say?"
"Willingly." Shaw flicked the ash off his cigar, and kept his eyes onits lighted end as he went on: "I brought you here because I want youout of the way."
"Why?"
"Because, my temperamental young friend, you are a nuisance. You areinterfering with my plans. I can't be bothered with you."
The sudden spark that in the old days would have warned Devon's friendsof an impending outburst appeared now in his black eyes, but he kept histemper.
"Would you mind confiding these plans to me?" he suggested. "They wouldinterest me, profoundly."
Shaw shook his sleek brown head.
"Oh, I couldn't do that," he said, with an indulgent smile. "But I havea proposition to make to you. Perhaps you will listen to it, instead."
"I'll listen to it," Laurie promised.
"It is short and to the poin
t. Give me your word that you will stopmeddling in Miss Mayo's affairs, which are also my affairs," he addedparenthetically, "and that you will never make an effort to see heragain. As soon as you have given me this promise, I will escort you tothe front door and bid you an eternal farewell, with great pleasure."
"I'm looking forward to that pleasure, myself," confessed the visitor."But before we throw ourselves into the delights of it, suppose yououtline the other side of your proposition. I suppose it _has_ anotherside."
Shaw frowned at his cigar.
"It doesn't sound pretty," he confessed, with regret.
"I'll judge of that. Let's have it."
"Well,"--Shaw sighed, dropped the cigar into the tray at his elbow, andsat up to face the young man with an entire change of manner--"The restof it," he said, calmly, "is this. Unless you make that promise we can'thave the farewell scene we are both looking forward to so eagerly."
"You mean--" Laurie was staring at him incredulously--"you mean youdon't intend to let me leave here?"
Shaw shrugged deprecating shoulders.
"Oh, surely! But not immediately."
His guest turned and addressed the fire.
"I never listened to such nonsense in my life," he gravely assured it.
Shaw nodded.
"It does seem a little melodramatic," he conceded. "I tried to think ofsomething better, something less brusque, as it were. But the time wasso short; I really had no choice."
"What do you mean by that?" Laurie had again turned to face him.
"Exactly what I say. Think it over. Then let me have your decision."
Laurie moved closer to him.
"Get up," he commanded.
Shaw looked surprised.
"I am very comfortable here."
"_Get up!_" The words came out between the young man's clenched teeth.
Shaw again shrugged deprecating shoulders. Then, with another of hiswide, sharp-toothed grins, he rose and faced his visitor. At the deskacross the room the big blond secretary rose, also, and fixed his paleblue eyes on his employer.
"Now," said Laurie, "tell me what the devil you are driving at, and whatall this mystery means."
"What an impulsive, high-strung chap you are!" Shaw was still grinninghis wide grin.
"You won't tell me?"
"Of course I won't! I've told you enough now to satisfy any reasonableperson. Besides, you said you had something to say to me."
He was deliberately goading the younger man, and Laurie saw it. He saw,too, over Shaw's shoulder, the tense, waiting figure of the secretary.He advanced another step.
"Yes," he said, "I've got three things to say to you. One is that you'rea contemptible, low-lived, blackmailing hound. The second is that beforeI get through with you I'm going to choke the truth out of your fatthroat. And the third is that I'll see you in hell before I give you anysuch promise as you ask. Now, I'm going."
He walked over to the couch and picked up his hat and coat. Thesecretary unostentatiously insinuated himself into the center of theroom. Shaw alone remained immovable and unmoved. Even as Laurie turnedwith the garments in his hands, Shaw smiled his wide smile and encircledthe room with a sweeping gesture of one arm.
"Go, then, by all means, my young friend," he cried jovially, "but_how_?"
Laurie's eyes followed the gesture. He had already observed the absenceof windows. Now, for the first time, with a sudden intake of breath, hediscovered a second lack. Seemingly, there was no exit from the room. Ofcourse there was a door somewhere, but it was cleverly concealed,perhaps behind some revolving piece of furniture; or possibly it wasopened by a hidden spring. Wherever it was, it could be found. In themeantime, his manoeuver had given him what he wanted--more space inwhich to fight two men. With a sudden movement Shaw picked up thesilver-framed photograph, and ostentatiously blew the dust off it. Thisdone, he held it out and looked at it admiringly.
"You will stay here, but you will not be alone," he promised, with hiswide, sharp-toothed grin. "This will keep you company. See how thecharming lady smiles at the prospect--"
He dropped the picture, which fell with a crash on the tiled flooringaround the fireplace. The glass broke and splintered. Shaw gasped andgurgled under the strangling hold of the powerful fingers on his throat.Lamp and table were overturned in the struggle that carried the threemen half a dozen times across the room and back.
Laurie, fighting two opponents with desperate fury, could still seetheir forms and Shaw's bulging eyes in the firelight. Then he himselfgasped and choked. Something wet and sweet was pressed against his face.He heard an excited whisper:
"Hold on! Be careful there. Not too much of that!"
A moment more and he had slipped over the edge of the world and wasdropping through black space.
The Girl in the Mirror Page 10
