Delphi Collected Works of Maurice Leblanc (Illustrated) (Delphi Series Nine Book 17)

by Maurice Leblanc

  Leon Massier, therefore, occupied a house adjoining the place in which the seven members of the Altenheim gang held their meetings. Consequently, Leon Massier was, in point of fact, the supreme leader who commanded that gang; and there was evidently a passage between the two coach-houses through which he communicated with his followers.

  “I was right,” said Lupin. “Leon Massier and Louis de Malreich are one and the same man. The situation is much simpler than it was.”

  “There is no doubt about that,” said Doudeville, “and everything will be settled in a few days.”

  “That is to say, I shall have been stabbed in the throat.”

  “What are you saying, governor? There’s an idea!”

  “Pooh, who knows? I have always had a presentiment that that monster would bring me ill-luck.”

  Thenceforth it became a matter of watching Malreich’s life in such a way that none of his movements went unobserved. This life was of the oddest, if one could believe the people of the neighborhood whom Doudeville questioned. “The bloke from the villa,” as they called him, had been living there for a few months only. He saw and received nobody. He was not known to keep a servant of any kind. And the windows, though they were left wide open, even at night, always remained dark and were never lit with the glow of a lamp or candle.

  Moreover, Leon Massier most often went out at the close of day and did not come in again until very late . . . at dawn, said people who had come upon him at sunrise.

  “And does any one know what he does?” asked Lupin of his companion, when they next met.

  “No, he leads an absolutely irregular existence. He sometimes disappears for several days together . . . or, rather, he remains indoors. When all is said, nobody knows anything.”

  “Well, we shall know; and that soon.”

  He was wrong. After a week of continuous efforts and investigations, he had learnt no more than before about that strange individual. The extraordinary thing that constantly happened was this, that, suddenly, while Lupin was following him, the man, who was ambling with short steps along the streets, without ever turning round or ever stopping, the man would vanish as if by a miracle. True, he sometimes went through houses with two entrances. But, at other times, he seemed to fade away in the midst of the crowd, like a ghost. And Lupin was left behind, petrified, astounded, filled with rage and confusion.

  He at once hurried to the Rue Delaizement and stood on guard outside the villa. Minutes followed upon minutes, half-hour upon half-hour. A part of the night slipped away. Then, suddenly, the mysterious man hove in sight. What could he have been doing?

  “An express message for you, governor,” said Doudeville, at eight o’clock one evening, as he joined him in the Rue Delaizement.

  Lupin opened the envelope. Mrs. Kesselbach implored him to come to her aid. It appeared that two men had taken up their stand under her windows, at night, and one of them had said:

  “What luck, we’ve dazzled them completely this time! So it’s understood; we shall strike the blow to-night.”

  Mrs. Kesselbach thereupon went downstairs and discovered that the shutter in the pantry did not fasten, or, at least, that it could be opened from the outside.

  “At last,” said Lupin, “it’s the enemy himself who offers to give battle. That’s a good thing! I am tired of marching up and down under Malreich’s windows.”

  “Is he there at this moment?”

  “No, he played me one of his tricks again in Paris, just as I was about to play him one of mine. But, first of all, listen to me, Doudeville. Go and collect ten of our men and bring them to the Rue des Vignes. Look here, bring Marco and Jérôme, the messenger. I have given them a holiday since the business at the Palace Hotel: let them come this time. Daddy Charolais and his son ought to be mounting guard by now. Make your arrangements with them, and at half-past eleven, come and join me at the corner of the Rue des Vignes and the Rue Raynouard. From there we will watch the house.”

  Doudeville went away. Lupin waited for an hour longer, until that quiet thoroughfare, the Rue Delaizement, was quite deserted, and then, seeing that Leon Massier did not return, he made up his mind and went up to the villa.

  There was no one in sight. . . . He took a run and jumped on the stone ledge that supported the railings of the garden. A few minutes later, he was inside.

  His plan was to force the door of the house and search the rooms in order to find the Emperor’s letters which Malreich had stolen from Veldenz. But he thought a visit to the coach-house of more immediate importance.

  He was much surprised to see that it was open and, next, to find, by the light of his electric lantern, that it was absolutely empty and that there was no door in the back wall. He hunted about for a long time, but met with no more success. Outside, however, he saw a ladder standing against the coach-house and obviously serving as a means of reaching a sort of loft contrived under the slate roof.

  The loft was blocked with old packing-cases, trusses of straw and gardener’s frames, or rather it seemed to be blocked, for he very soon discovered a gangway that took him to the wall. Here, he knocked up against a cucumber-frame, which he tried to move. Failing to effect his purpose, he examined the frame more closely and found, first, that it was fixed to the wall and, secondly, that one of the panes was missing. He passed his arm through and encountered space. He cast the bright light of the lantern through the aperture and saw a big shed, a coach-house larger than that of the villa and filled with old iron-work and objects of every kind.

  “That’s it,” said Lupin to himself. “This window has been contrived in the Broker’s lumber-room, right up at the top, and from here Louis de Malreich sees, hears and watches his accomplices, without being seen or heard by them. I now understand how it is that they do not know their leader.”

  Having found out what he wanted, he put out his light and was on the point of leaving, when a door opened opposite him, down below. Some one came in and lit a lamp. He recognized the Broker. He thereupon resolved to stay where he was, since the expedition, after all, could not be done so long as that man was there.

  The Broker took two revolvers from his pocket. He tested the triggers and changed the cartridges, whistling a music-hall tune as he did so.

  An hour elapsed in this way. Lupin was beginning to grow restless, without, however, making up his mind to go.

  More minutes passed, half an hour, an hour. . . .

  At last, the man said aloud:

  “Come in.”

  One of the scoundrels slipped into the shed; and, one after the other, a third arrived and a fourth. . . .

  “We are all here,” said the Broker. “Dieudonne and Chubby will meet us down there. Come, we’ve no time to lose. . . . Are you armed?”

  “To the teeth.”

  “That’s all right. It’ll be hot work.”

  “How do you know, Broker?”

  “I’ve seen the chief. . . . When I say that I’ve seen him, no . . . but he spoke to me. . . .”

  “Yes,” said one of the men, “in the dark, at a street-corner, as usual. Ah, Altenheim’s ways were better than that. At least, one knew what one was doing.”

  “And don’t you know?” retorted the Broker. “We’re breaking in at the Kesselbach woman’s.”

  “And what about the two watchers? The two coves whom Lupin posted there?”

  “That’s their look-out: there’s seven of us. They had better give us as little trouble as possible.”

  “What about the Kesselbach?”

  “Gag her first, then bind her and bring her here. . . . There, on that old sofa. . . . And then wait for orders.”

  “Is the job well paid?”

  “The Kesselbach’s jewels to begin with.”

  “Yes, if it comes off . . . but I’m speaking of the certainty.”

  “Three hundred-franc notes apiece, beforehand, and twice as much again afterwards.”

  “Have you the money?”

  “Yes.”

  �
�That’s all right. You can say what you like, but, as far as paying goes, there’s no one to equal that bloke.” And, in a voice so low that Lupin could hardly hear, “I say, Broker, if we’re obliged to use the knife, is there a reward?”

  “The same as usual, two thousand.”

  “If it’s Lupin?”

  “Three thousand.”

  “Oh, if we could only get him!”

  One after the other, they left the lumber-room. Lupin heard the Broker’s parting words:

  “This is the plan of attack. We divide into three lots. A whistle; and every one runs forward. . . .”

  Lupin hurriedly left his hiding-place, went down the ladder, ran round the house, without going in, and climbed back over the railings:

  “The Broker’s right; it’ll be hot work. . . . Ah, it’s my skin they’re after! A reward for Lupin! The rascals!”

  He passed through the toll-gate and jumped into a taxi:

  “Rue Raynouard.”

  He stopped the cab at two hundred yards from the Rue des Vignes and walked to the corner of the two streets. To his great surprise, Doudeville was not there.

  “That’s funny,” said Lupin. “It’s past twelve. . . . This business looks suspicious to me.”

  He waited ten minutes, twenty minutes. At half-past twelve, nobody had arrived. Further delay was dangerous. After all, if Doudeville and his men were prevented from coming, Charolais, his son and he, Lupin, himself were enough to repel the attack, without counting the assistance of the servants.

  He therefore went ahead. But he caught sight of two men who tried to hide in the shadow of a corner wall.

  “Hang it!” he said. “That’s the vanguard of the gang, Dieudonne and Chubby. I’ve allowed myself to be out-distanced, like a fool.”

  Here he lost more time. Should he go straight up to them, disable them and then climb into the house through the pantry-window, which he knew to be unlocked? That would be the most prudent course and would enable him, moreover, to take Mrs. Kesselbach away at once and to remove her to a place of safety.

  Yes, but it also meant the failure of his plan; it meant missing this glorious opportunity of trapping the whole gang, including Louis de Malreich himself, without doubt.

  Suddenly a whistle sounded from somewhere on the other side of the house. Was it the rest of the gang, so soon? And was an offensive movement to be made from the garden?

  But, at the preconcerted signal, the two men climbed through the window and disappeared from view.

  Lupin scaled the balcony at a bound and jumped into the pantry. By the sound of their footsteps, he judged that the assailants had gone into the garden; and the sound was so distinct that he felt easy in his mind: Charolais and his son could not fail to hear the noise.

  He therefore went upstairs. Mrs. Kesselbach’s bedroom was on the first landing. He walked in without knocking.

  A night-light was burning in the room; and he saw Dolores, on a sofa, fainting. He ran up to her, lifted her and, in a voice of command, forcing her to answer:

  “Listen. . . . Charolais? His son . . . Where are they?”

  She stammered:

  “Why, what do you mean? . . . They’re gone, of course! . . .”

  “What, gone?”

  “You sent me word . . . an hour ago . . . a telephone-message. . . .”

  He picked up a piece of blue paper lying beside her and read:

  “Send the two watchers away at once . . . and all my men. . . . Tell them to meet me at the Grand Hotel. Have no fear.”

  “Thunder! And you believed it? . . . But your servants?”

  “Gone.”

  He went up to the window. Outside, three men were coming from the other end of the garden.

  From the window in the next room, which looked out on the street, he saw two others, on the pavement.

  And he thought of Dieudonne, of Chubby, of Louis de Malreich, above all, who must now be prowling around, invisible and formidable.

  “Hang it!” he muttered. “I half believe they’ve done me this time!”

  CHAPTER XIV. THE MAN IN BLACK

  AT THAT MOMENT, Arsène Lupin felt the impression, the certainty, that he had been drawn into an ambush, by means which he had not the time to perceive, but of which he guessed the prodigious skill and address. Everything had been calculated, everything ordained; the dismissal of his men, the disappearance or treachery of the servants, his own presence in Mrs. Kesselbach’s house.

  Clearly, the whole thing had succeeded, exactly as the enemy wished, thanks to circumstances almost miraculously fortunate; for, after all, he might have arrived before the false message had sent his friends away. But then there would have been a battle between his own gang and the Altenheim gang. And Lupin, remembering Malreich’s conduct, the murder of Altenheim, the poisoning of the mad girl at Veldenz, Lupin asked himself whether the ambush was aimed at him alone or whether Malreich had not contemplated the possibility of a general scuffle, involving the killing of accomplices who had by this time become irksome to him.

  It was an intuition, rather, a fleeting idea, that just passed through his mind. The hour was one for action. He must defend Dolores, the abduction of whom was, in all likelihood, the first and foremost reason of the attack.

  He half-opened the casement window on the street and levelled his revolver. A shot, rousing and alarming the neighborhood, and the scoundrels would take to their heels.

  “Well, no,” he muttered, “no! It shall not be said that I shirked the fight. The opportunity is too good. . . . And, then, who says that they would run away! . . . There are too many of them to care about the neighbors.”

  He returned to Dolores’ room. There was a noise downstairs. He listened and, finding that it came from the staircase, he locked the door.

  Dolores was crying and throwing herself about the sofa.

  He implored her:

  “Are you strong enough? We are on the first floor. I could help you down. We can lower the sheets from the window. . . .”

  “No, no, don’t leave me. . . . I am frightened. . . . I haven’t the strength . . . they will kill me. . . . Oh, protect me!”

  He took her in his arms and carried her to the next room. And, bending over her:

  “Don’t move; and keep calm. I swear to you that not one of those men shall touch you, as long as I am alive.”

  The door of the first room was tried. Dolores, clinging to him with all her might, cried:

  “Oh, there they are! There they are! . . . They will kill you . . . you are alone! . . .”

  Eagerly, he said:

  “No, I am not alone. . . . You are here. . . . You are here beside me. . . .”

  He tried to release himself. She took his head in her two hands, looked him deep in the eyes and whispered:

  “Where are you going? What are you going to do? No . . . you must not die. . . . I won’t have it . . . you must live . . . you must.”

  She stammered words which he did not catch and which she seemed to stifle between her lips lest he should hear them; and, having spent all her energy, exhausted, she fell back unconscious.

  He leant over her and gazed at her for a moment. Softly, lightly, he pressed a kiss upon her hair.

  Then he went back to the first room, carefully closed the door between the two and switched on the electric light.

  “One second, my lads!” he cried. “You seem in a great hurry to get yourselves smashed to pieces! . . . Don’t you know that Lupin’s here? I’ll make you dance!”

  While speaking, he unfolded a screen in such a way as to hide the sofa on which Mrs. Kesselbach had been lying; and he now spread dresses and coverings over it. The door was on the point of giving way under the blows of the men outside.

  “Here I am! Coming! Are you ready? Now, gentlemen, one at a time! . . .”

  He briskly turned the key and drew the bolt.

  Shouts, threats, a roar of infuriated animals came through the open doorway.

  Yet none of them dared c
ome forward. Before rushing at Lupin, they hesitated, seized with alarm, with fear. . . .

  This was what he had reckoned on.

  Standing in the middle of the room, full in the light, with outstretched arm, he held between his fingers a sheaf of bank-notes, which he divided, counting them one by one, into seven equal shares. And he calmly said:

  “Three thousand francs’ reward for each of you, if Lupin is sent to his last account? That’s what you were promised, isn’t it? Here’s double the money!”

  He laid the bundles on the table, within reach of the scoundrels.

  The Broker roared:

  “Humbug! He’s trying to gain time. Shoot him down!”

  He raised his arm. His companions held him back.

  And Lupin continued:

  “Of course, this need not affect your plan of campaign. You came here, first, to kidnap Mrs. Kesselbach and, secondly, to lay hands on her jewels. Far be it from me to interfere with your laudable intentions!”

  “Look here, what are you driving at?” growled the Broker, listening in spite of himself.

  “Aha, Broker, I’m beginning to interest you, am I? . . . Come in, old chap. . . . Come in, all of you. . . . There’s a draught at the top of those stairs . . . and such pretty fellows as you mustn’t run the risk of catching cold. . . . What, are we afraid? Why, I’m all by myself! . . . Come, pull yourselves together, my lambs!”

  They entered the room, puzzled and suspicious.

  “Shut the door, Broker . . . we shall be more comfortable. Thanks, old man. Oh, by the way, I see the notes are gone. Therefore we’re agreed. How easy it is for honest men to come to terms!”

  “Well . . . and next?”

  “Next? Well, as we’re partners . . .”

  “Partners?”

  “Why, haven’t you accepted my money? We’re working together, old man, and we will carry off the young woman together first and carry off the jewels after.”

  The Broker grinned:

  “Don’t want you for that.”

  “Yes, you do, old man.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you don’t know where the jewels are hidden and I do.”