The Red Room

by William Le Queux

passing and repassing before my house. No longer shabbyor down-at-heel, however, he had, on the contrary, looked beaming andprosperous until those two men had imparted the information which had,in an instant, caused his brow to cloud, and he became serious andpensive.

  The old brown kit-bag bearing many hotel labels was placed upon a taxi,which the three men entered and drove away, I following close upon them.

  Half-way up St. James's Street they pulled up at Boodle's, where allthree entered. Which of the three, I wondered, was a member of thatmost exclusive and old-fashioned institution?

  They remained there nearly half an hour, when Kirk emerged, and, biddinggood night to his friends at the kerb, re-entered the taxi and drove toWhitehall Court, that large block of flats which overlooks theembankment close to Northumberland Avenue. Here the liveried portersaluted him respectfully and carried his bag to the lift, up which a fewminutes later he disappeared.

  In my mechanic's attire I was now placed at a great disadvantage. Anyinquiry I might make of the gorgeous attendant would, I knew, onlyarouse suspicion, but a thought instantly occurred to me. The friendlydriver of my taxi, believing that I, a motor man, had been swindled,might perhaps help me. We had pulled up at the corner where, in a fewbrief sentences, I now explained to him that I was anxious to knowwhether Kirk resided there in his own name.

  "I'll inquire for you, mate, if you like," declared the taxi-drivercheerily. "You just wait here."

  And while I mounted guard over his cab, the red-moustached driver wentalong to the entrance to the flats. I saw him in conversation with thelift man, and when presently he returned he said:

  "The gentleman just gone in is Mr. Seymour, who lives on the thirdfloor. He's abroad very often, it seems, and is only just back. He'slived there a couple of years."

  Now I recollected that Kirk, when we had sat together that first nightin Bedford Park, had told me that he possessed another home, and I hadnow run him to earth.

  Whitehall Court is an expensive place of residence. Apartments thereseemed far beyond his income as he appeared when he passed my house,shabby, broken-down, and often hungry-looking.

  I gave my friend the taxi-man half a crown beyond his legal fare anddismissed him, afterwards walking as far as the entrance to the NationalLiberal Club, trying to decide how next to act.

  To face the fellow boldly and unflinchingly was, I recognised, the onlyway in which to gain the knowledge I sought. Yet in the garb of amechanic, was I not much handicapped? Nevertheless, I walked back, and,finding the hall porter, gave my name as Flynn, and asked to see Mr.Seymour upon important business.

  After a wait of nearly ten minutes a man in uniform came and ushered meup in the lift to the third floor, where, having traversed a long,thickly-carpeted corridor, he opened a door and allowed me to passacross the small well-furnished hall of the flat into a sitting-room,where I found myself again face to face with my mysterious neighbour.

  He started at sight of me, but so perfect an actor was he that in asecond he had recovered himself, and inquired with affectedfriendliness:

  "Why, my dear Holford, why in the name of Fate did you send up your nameas Flynn?"

  "Because I wished to see you, Mr. Kirk," was my hard response, for wewere now alone together in that cosy, sumptuously-furnishedsitting-room, through the windows of which I could see the dark flowingThames and the row of gleaming lights on the Surrey shore beyond. "Iknew," I added, "that if I had sent up my own name I should not bereceived."

  "Why?" he asked, opening his eyes widely. "I don't follow you. Surelyyou have acted as a good friend to me, therefore why shouldn't I receiveyou? I've only this very moment returned from abroad. Who told you Iwas back again?"

  "No one. I obtained the knowledge for myself," I said, "and I have comehere, Mr. Kirk, for several reasons, the chief being to ask you a simpleand pointed question: who killed Professor Greer?"

  "My dear sir," he exclaimed, looking straight at me with unwaveringgaze, a slight change, however, showing in his thin, grey countenance,"that is the very problem that I myself am trying to solve--but invain."

  "An impostor is passing himself off as Greer," I declared.

  "Is he?" asked Kirk quietly. "I was not aware of that."

  "Not aware of it!" I cried in angry dismay. "Do you actually deny,then, that you are acquainted with this man who has taken thepersonality and honours of Professor Greer upon himself in order topreserve the secret of the unfortunate scientist's death?"

  "I deny being aware of any person attempting to pass himself off asGreer," was my mysterious neighbour's bold and unflinching reply.

  Had I not sent that telegram from Broadstairs and signed it Kirk, andhad not its receipt caused the false Professor quickly to change hisquarters? Kirk's reply staggered me.

  "Look here," I exclaimed again, raising my voice in anger at this opendenial of what I knew to be the truth, "on the night of your escape fromSussex Place, the house was searched, and I found evidences of alltraces of the crime having been effaced in the furnace of thelaboratory."

  "I know," was his simple response. "I was quite well aware of that. Ihope, however, Holford, that you have kept your promise and kept a stilltongue."

  "To a certain extent, yes."

  "You told Langton nothing, I trust?" he asked anxiously.

  "Why are you in such mortal fear of Langton?" I demanded hotly, haltingbefore him as he stood on the hearthrug coolly surveying me, with hisback to the fire.

  "My dear fellow," he answered, "pray calm yourself. Have a drink, andlet's discuss this matter amicably from a purely business-likestandpoint. Surely when I invoked your aid I did not commit a graveerror of judgment? You have been judicious throughout, I hope? Youhave not forgotten the great issues which I explained depended upon yoursilence?"

  "My silence you shall command no longer, Mr. Kirk!" I cried, suddenlyinterrupting him. "I've been silent far too long."

  "Ah!" he remarked, still unruffled. "I see. Well, your attitude isquite justifiable, my dear sir--quite. You have lost your wife, Iunderstand."

  "Yes," I said, advancing towards him a couple of paces in a manner whichI now believe must have appeared threatening. "And you know more aboutthe trap into which my poor wife has been led than anybody else. Thatis why I'm here to-night--to compel you to speak--you crafty old cur!"

  "My dear Holford, why--what's the matter?" he asked, even then quiteunperturbed. "Now if I did not know you so well I might easily beannoyed, but I'm not. No doubt the loss of Mrs. Holford has seriouslyupset you." And the fellow actually smiled at this.

  I grew furious. The mysterious man's eyes gleamed with a triumphantlight, and his pale lips parted, revealing his pointed teeth.

  "You make pretence of ignorance!" I cried. "You think that I believeyou when you say you know nothing of where she is, but--"

  "I assure you, Holford, that these suspicions of myself are entirelygroundless. I have no knowledge whatever of the lady. I have seen heronce or twice at her dining-room window, it is true."

  "And yet I've been out to Florence, to the Grand Bretagne, where I wasinformed that you had been in her company!" was my hasty reply.

  "I can't help what cock-and-bull story you've been told by an Italianhotel-keeper. They are notorious for their untruths, as you woulddiscover if you travelled as much up and down Italy as I do," he saidwith an evil grin. "I can only tell you, once and for all, that I haveno knowledge whatever of your wife's present whereabouts."

  "Then who has?"

  "How can I tell, my dear sir? You ask me a riddle. On my arrival atCharing Cross an hour ago one of my friends who met me told me of Mrs.Holford's sudden journey abroad and her disappearance into space. Thestory set me wondering as to the motive of the plot--for plot itundoubtedly must be. Mrs. Holford and yourself, I am told, are devotedto each other. There is no reason for her leaving you, is there?"

  "Understand this, Kirk," I said. "I've been fooled quite long enough.As my wife has
been enticed away, and is held aloof in some unknownplace, I give you full and ample warning of my intention. It is to gostraight to the police, and while invoking their aid to try and findher, at the same time to tell them the whole story of the affair atSussex Place, just as I know it."

  The man half turned from me and bit his thin under-lip. His grey,furrowed countenance had become even more grey and more determined,while in his eyes I saw an evil glitter.

  "Ah! You've been trying to seek solution of the mystery for yourself.I know all about that!" He laughed hollowly. "But, as you are aware ofonly half