by Sax Rohmer
CHAPTER IX
ES-SINDIBAD OF CADOGAN GARDENS
Upon the night following the ill-omened banquet in Park Lane was held asecond dinner party, in Cadogan Gardens. Like veritable gourmets, wemust be present.
It is close upon the dining hour.
"Zoe is late!" said Lady Vignoles.
"I think not, dear," her husband corrected her, consulting hiscelebrated chronometer. "They have one minute in which to demonstratethe efficiency of American methods!"
"Thank you--Greenwich!" smiled her vivacious ladyship, whose husband'slove of punctuality was the only trace of character which six months ofmarital intimacy had enabled her to discover in him.
"You know," said Lord Vignoles to Zimmermann, the famous _litterateur_of the Ghetto, "she is proud of Yankee smartness. Only natural." And hislight blue eyes followed his wife's pretty figure as she flittedhospitably amongst her guests. Admiration beamed through his monocle.
"Lady Vignoles is a staunch American," agreed the novelist. "I gatherthat your opinion of that nation differs from hers?"
"Well, you know," explained his host, "I don't seriously contend--thatis, when Sheila is about--I don't contend that their methods aren'tsmart. But it seems to me that their smartness is all--just--well, d'yousee what I mean? Look at these Pinkerton fellows!"
"Those who you were telling me called upon you this morning?"
"Yes. They came over with Oppner to look for this Severac Bablon."
"What is your contention?"
"Well," said Vignoles, rather flustered at being thus pinned to thepoint, "I mean to say--they haven't caught him!"
"Neither has Scotland Yard!"
"No, by Jove, you're right! Scotland Yard hasn't!"
"Do you think it likely that Scotland Yard will?" asked the other.
But Lord Vignoles, having caught his wife's eye, was performing ahumorous grimace, and, watch in hand, delivering a pantomimic indictmentof American unpunctuality. At which moment Miss Oppner was announced,and Lady Vignoles made a pretty _moue_ of triumph.
Zoe Oppner entered the room, regally carrying her small head crownedwith the slightly frizzy mop of chestnut hair, conscious of her fineeyes, her perfect features, and her pretty shoulders, happy in her slimyoung beauty, and withal wholly unaffected. Therein lay her greatestcharm. A beautiful woman, fully aware of her loveliness, she was toosensible to be vain of a gift of the gods--to pride herself upon aheavenly accident.
"Why, Zoe!" said Lady Vignoles, "what's become of uncle?"
"Pa couldn't get," announced Zoe composedly; "so I came along withouthim. Told me to apologise, but didn't explain. I've promised to rejoinhim early, so I shall have to quit directly after dinner. The car iscoming for me."
Lord Vignoles looked amused.
"_Les affaires!_" he said resignedly. "These Americans!"
Dinner was announced.
The usual air of slightly annoyed surprise crept over the faces of thecompany at the announcement, so that to the uninitiate it would haveseemed that no one was hungry. However, they accepted the inevitable.
Then Vignoles made a discovery.
"I say, Sheila," he exclaimed, "where is your American efficiency? We'rethirteen!"
His wife made a rapid mental calculation and flushed slightly.
"Anybody might do it!" she pouted; "and it's uncle's fault, anyway!"
"Why!" exclaimed Zoe Oppner, "you're surely not going to make a fussover a silly thing like that!"
"A lot of people don't like it," declared Lady Vignoles hurriedly. "Ishouldn't mind, of course, if it happened at somebody else's house."
Zimmermann strolled up to the group.
"I gather that we number thirteen?" he said.
"That is so," replied Vignoles; "but," dropping his voice, "I don'tthink anyone else has noticed it yet."
"A romantic idea occurs to me!" smiled the novelist. "I submit it in alldeference----"
"Oh, go on, Mr. Zimmermann!" cried Zoe, with sparkling eyes.
"Why not, upon the precedent of our ancient Arabian friend, Es-Sindibadof the Sea, summon to the feast some chance wayfarer?"
"Oh, I say!" protested the host mildly. "Do you mean to go outside inCadogan Gardens and stop anybody that comes along?"
"Well," said Zimmermann, "it should, strictly, be some pious person whotarries there to extol Allah! But if we waited for such a traveller Ifear the soup would be spoiled! You are a gentleman short, I think? Somake it, simply, the first gentleman."
"But he might be a tramp or a taxi-driver, or worse!" protestedVignoles.
"That is true," agreed the other. "So let us determine upon a criterionof respectability. Shall we say the first man, provided he be agreeable,who wears a dress-suit?"
"That's just grand!" cried Zoe Oppner enthusiastically. "It's too cutefor anything! Oh, Jerry, let's! Make him do it, Sheila!"
Jerry, otherwise Lord Vignoles, clearly regarded the projected Orientalexperiment with no friendly eye.
"I mean to say----"
"That's settled, Zoe!" said the pretty hostess calmly. "Never mind him!Alexander!"
The footman addressed came forward.
"You will step out on the front porch, Alexander, and say to the firstgentleman who passes, if he's in evening dress: 'Lady Vignoles requeststhe pleasure of your company at dinner.' If he says he doesn't know me,reply that I am quite aware of that! Do you understand?"
Alexander was shocked.
"I mean to say, Sheila----" began his lordship.
"Did you hear me, Alexander?"
"I've got to stand out in Cadogan Gardens, my lady----"
"Shall I repeat it again, slowly?"
"I heard you, my lady."
"Very well. Show the gentleman into the library. You have only fiveminutes."
With an appealing look towards Lord Vignoles, who, having ostentatiouslyremoved and burnished his eyeglass, seemed to experience some difficultyin replacing it, Alexander departed.
"_I_ claim him!" cried Zoe, as the footman disappeared. "Whoever he isor whatever he's like, he shall take me in to dinner!"
"What I mean to say is," blurted Vignoles, "that it would be all rightat a country-house party at Christmas, say----"
"It's going to be all right here, dear!" interrupted his wife,affectionately squeezing his arm. "Why, think of the possibilities! NewYork would just go crazy on the idea!"
A silence fell between them as, with Zoe Oppner and the Zimmermanns,they made their way to the library. Only a few minutes elapsed, to theirsurprise, ere Alexander reappeared. Martyr-like, he had performed hispainful duty, and a beatific consciousness of his martyrdom was writlarge upon him. In an absolutely toneless voice he announced:
"Detective-Inspector Pepys!"
"Here! I mean to say--we can't have a policeman----" began Vignoles, buthis wife's little hand was laid upon his lips.
Zoe Oppner, with brimming eyes, made a brave attempt, and then fled to adistant settee, striving with her handkerchief to stifle her laughter.
The guest entered.
From her remote corner Zoe Oppner peeped at him, and her laughterceased. Lady Vignoles looked pleased; her husband seemed surprised.Zimmermann watched the stranger with a curious expression in his eyes.
Detective-Inspector Pepys was a tall man of military bearing, bronzed,and wearing a slight beard, trimmed to a point. He was perfectlycomposed, and came forward with an easy smile upon his handsome face.His clothes fitted him faultlessly. Even Lord Vignoles (a sartorialconnoisseur) had to concede that his dress-suit was a success. He lookeda wealthy Colonial gentleman.
"This pleasure is the greater in being unexpected, Lady Vignoles!" hesaid. "I gather I am thus favoured that I may take the place of anabsentee. Shall I hazard a guess? Your party numbered thirteen?"
His infectious smile, easy acceptance of a bizarre situation, andevident good breeding, bridged a rather difficult interval. LordVignoles had had an idea that detective-inspectors were just ordinaryplain-clothes policemen, and ha
d determined, a second before, to asserthimself, give the man half-a-sovereign, and put an end to thisridiculous extravaganza. Now he changed his mind. Detective-InspectorPepys was a revelation.
Vignoles (to his own surprise) offered his hand.
"It is very good of you," he said, rather awkwardly. "You are sure youhave no other dinner engagement, Inspector?"
"None," replied the latter. "I am, strictly speaking, engaged uponofficial duty; but bodily nutriment is allowed--even by Scotland Yard!"
"You don't mind my presenting you to--the other guests--inyour--ah--unofficial capacity--as plain Mr. Pepys? They might--thinkthere was something wrong!"
He felt vaguely confused, as though he were insulting the visitor by hisrequest, and with the detective's disconcerting eyes fixed upon his facewas more than half ashamed of himself.
"Not in the least, Lord Vignoles. I should have suggested it had you notdone so."
The host was resentfully conscious of a subtle sense of inward gratitudefor this concession. Of the easy assumption of equality by the detectivehe experienced no resentment whatever. The circumstances possiblywarranted it, and, in any event, it was assumed so quietly and naturallythat he accepted it as a matter of course.
Since Lord Vignoles' marriage with an American heiress the atmosphere ofhis establishments had grown very transatlantic; so much so, indeed,that someone had dubbed the house in Cadogan Gardens "The Millionaires'Meeting House," and another wit (unknown) had referred to his place inNorfolk as "The Week-end Synagogue." Furthermore, Lady Vignoles had aweakness for "odd people," for which reason the presence of a guesthitherto socially unknown occasioned no comment.
Mr. Pepys having brought in Zoe Oppner, everyone assumed the latearrival to be one of Lady Vignoles' odd people, and everyone waspleasantly surprised to find him such a charming companion.
Zoe Oppner, for her part, became so utterly absorbed in his conversationthat her cousin grew seriously alarmed. Zoe was notoriously eccentric,and, her cousin did not doubt, even capable of forming an attachment fora policeman.
In fact, Lady Vignoles, who was wearing the historic Lyrpa Diamond--herfather's wedding-present--was so concerned that she had entirely losttrack of the general conversation, which, from the great gem, haddrifted automatically into criminology.
Zimmermann was citing the famous case of the Kimberley mail robbery in'83.
"That was a big haul," he said. "Twelve thousand pounds' worth of roughdiamonds!"
"Fifteen!" corrected Bernard Megger, director of a world-famed miningsyndicate.
"Oh, was it fifteen?" continued Zimmermann. "No doubt you are correct.Were you in Africa in '83?"
"No," replied Megger; "I was in 'Frisco till the autumn of '85, but Iremember the affair. Three men were captured--one dead. Thefourth--Isaac Jacobsen--got away, and with the booty!"
"Never traced, I believe!" asked the novelist.
"Never," confirmed Megger; "neither the man nor the diamonds."
"It was a big thing, certainly," came Vignoles' voice; "but this SeveracBablon has beaten all records in that line!"
The remark afforded his wife an opportunity, for which she had sought,to break off the too confidential _tete-a-tete_ between Zoe and thedetective.
"Zoe," she said, "surely Mr. Pepys can tell us something about thismysterious Severac Bablon?"
"Oh, yes!" replied Zoe. "He has been telling me! He knows quite a lotabout him!"
Now, the dinner-table topic all over London was the mystery of SeveracBablon, and Lady Vignoles' party was not exceptional in this respect. Ithad already been several times referred to, and at Miss Oppner's wordsall eyes were directed towards the handsome stranger, who bore thisscrutiny with such smiling composure.
"I cannot go into particulars, Lady Vignoles," he said; "but, as you areaware, I have a kind of official connection with the matter!"
This was beautifully mysterious, and everyone became intenselyinterested.
"Of such facts as have come to light you all know as much as I, butthere is a certain theory which seems to have occurred to no one." Hepaused impressively, throwing a glance around the table. "What is thenotable point in regard to the victims of Severac Bablon?"
"They are Jews--or of Jewish extraction," said Zoe Oppner promptly. "Pahas noticed that! He's taken considerable interest since his mills wereburned in Ontario!"
"And what is the conclusion?"
"That he hates Jews!" snapped Bernard Megger hotly. "That he has adeadly hatred of all the race!"
"You think so?" said Pepys softly, and turned his eyes upon the gross,empurpled face of the speaker. "It has not occurred to you that he mighthimself be a Jew?"
That theory was so new to them that it was received in silentastonishment. Lady Vignoles, though her mother was Irish, had a markedleaning towards her father's people, and, as was usually the case, thatancient race was fairly represented at her dinner-table. Lord Vignoles,on the contrary, was not fond of his wife's Semitic friends--in fact,was ashamed of them; and he accordingly felt the present conversation tobe drifting in an unpleasant direction.
"Consider," resumed Pepys, before the host could think of any suitableremark, "that this man wields an enormous and far-reaching influence. Nodoor is locked to him! From out of nowhere he can summon up numbers ofwilling servants, who obey him blindly, and return--whence they came!
"He would seem, then, to be served by high and low, and--a notablepoint--no one of his servants has yet betrayed him! His wealth clearlyis enormous. He invites the rich to give--as _he_ gives--and if theydecline he takes! For what purpose? That he may relieve the poor! Nofriend of the needy yet has suffered at the hands of Severac Bablon."
"I believe that's a fact!" agreed Zoe Oppner. "He's my own parent, butPa's real mean, I'll allow!"
Her words were greeted with laughter; but everyone was anxious to hearmore from this man who spoke so confidently upon the topic of the hour.
"You may say," he continued, "that he is no more than a glorified ClaudeDuval, but might he not be one who sought to purge the Jewish name ofthe taint of greed--who forced those responsible for fostering thattaint to disburse--who hated those mean of soul and loved those worthyof their ancient line? It is thus he would war! And the price of defeatwould be--a felon's cell! Whom would he be--this man at enmity with allwho have brought shame upon the Jewish race? Whom could he be, save amonarch with eight millions of subjects--a royal Jew? I say that such aman exists, and that Severac Bablon, if not that man himself, is hischosen emissary!"
More and more rapidly he had spoken, in tones growing momentarily louderand more masterful. He burned with the enthusiasm of the specialist.Now, as he ceased, a long sigh arose from his listeners, who had hungbreathless upon his words, and one lady whispered to her neighbour, "Ishe something to do with the Secret Service?"
"Mr. Bernard Megger is wanted on the telephone!"
"How annoying!" ejaculated Lady Vignoles at this sudden interruption.
"Oh, I have said my say," laughed Pepys. "It is a pet theory of mine,that's all! I am alone in my belief, however, save for a writer in the_Gleaner_, who seems to share it."
