The Crime Club

by W. Holt-White

  CHAPTER XXI

  THE KIDNAPPING OF THE PRIME MINISTER

  "Out of evil cometh good." Had Westerham caught the eye of Kathleenas the two motor cars passed each other at the corner of WhitehallKathleen herself would have been spared much suffering and several menwould not have gone to their account. But a meeting at that momentwould have so changed the whole course of events that far greatertrouble would have befallen, and the whole earth might have becomeinvolved in a disaster which would have grown, without question, intoArmageddon.

  It was, however, in happy ignorance of both the greater and the lesserevil that Westerham, in what were really most excellent spirits, drewup the car which he had borrowed from Dunton at No. 10 Downing Street.

  With him came Mendip, the younger of the two men whom he had metin such curious circumstances at the gaming club on the night whenKathleen had staked her father's honour against the bank and, for thetime, lost.

  Mendip was one of those strange, tired men who appear to do nothing andyet accomplish much. He was slow of speech, but quick in action whenoccasion demanded; silent, serious, and of a character built to bearwith resolution any temptation or trial which might arise.

  Dunton trusted him implicitly, and, in spite of his short acquaintancewith him, Westerham trusted him too.

  A third person had been necessary for the enterprise, and had beenfound in the person of Tom Lowther, a good-natured young giant, wholaughed his way through what, to him, was a laughing world.

  It was with an immense grin of satisfaction that he had taken on hisshoulders the task of driving the car in which Westerham set out on hisdesperate enterprise.

  Dunton had left his chambers early in the morning, so that about eleveno'clock all the men who had been selected to drag the Premier's secretfrom him had gathered in Dunton's rooms.

  There, half humorously, Westerham had explained the project to them,basing his argument upon a lesson drawn from an abortive raid whichcertain suffragettes had made upon the official residence not longbefore.

  What woman could attempt, he had argued, man could decidedly accomplish.

  So the plan was mapped out; and according to the arrangements whichWesterham made, Lowther backed the car round in Downing Street and drewit up alongside the curb, so that its head pointed towards Whitehall,and, as Westerham hoped, the high road of escape.

  It was astonishing that, in spite of the suffragettes' attempt onDowning Street, more precautions were not taken. For all he knew,Westerham might have had to encounter worse opposition than he did. Buthe was prepared for all emergencies, and, moreover, determined not tospare drastic measures if it came to a tight corner.

  As he drew up to the door, Westerham hoped that the immaculate Duntonmight play his part as well as he intended to play his own. Dunton hadgone down to Chichester, and had ordered his yacht to await him in thefair way off Selsey Bill.

  It was to Dunton's yacht that Westerham determined to take the Premier.

  As the car came to a standstill, Westerham and Mendip alighted quickly,and without hesitation pulled the little brass knob at No. 10. As theyexpected, the door was pulled open quickly, and the head, followed bythe figure, of the Premier's official door-keeper appeared in the entry.

  Westerham was first up the steps, with Mendip hard at his heels.

  He pushed the man aside, and had slammed the door to in the twinklingof an eye. He thrust the man back into the deep, cane-hooded chair inwhich he was wont to sit and dream away his official hours, and had himgagged before he had time to cry out. Then, by means of the straps withwhich he had provided himself, he and Mendip securely lashed the man'sfeet together, tying his hands behind his back.

  This work done, they paused and listened; but, in spite of the scufflethere had been, there was no sound of approaching footsteps, nor,indeed, any sign that they had been overheard.

  Without a word, Westerham grasped the man by the shoulders, and Mendiptook him by the heels; and so they carried him through the red-baizeswing-doors which formed the entrance to the passage leading to thecouncil chamber.

  There, with no ceremony at all, they dropped him on the ground, and ranquickly down the corridor.

  At the bottom of this there stood a door, which opened easily asWesterham turned the handle.

  They then found themselves in a somewhat ellipse-shaped vestibule,which, as a matter of fact, was the outer lobby of the room where theCabinet Council was being held.

  That the door of the council chamber would be locked Westerham knewfull well; but he had come prepared to overcome any difficulty of thiskind.

  Nevertheless, he turned the handle, only to find, as he had expected,that the key on the inner side had been turned.

  When in America, Westerham had found it necessary to force more thanone door; and now he pursued the tactics which he had found efficaciouson previous occasions.

  Swiftly he drew his own revolver from his hip-pocket and held out hisother hand for Mendip's. Mendip, with his eyes beaming, passed his ownweapon to Westerham without a word.

  He then placed the noses of both the six-shooters on the woodwork justabove the lock, pointing them downwards so that no damage might be doneto the ministers within. He pulled the triggers simultaneously, and thesound of splintered woodwork and riven iron followed instantaneously onthe double report.

  The door all about the lock was shattered into matchwood, andWesterham, thrusting his foot forward, pushed it open.

  Mendip sprang back in fear lest his face should be recognised by any ofthe startled ministers, while Westerham strode calmly into the room.

  The Cabinet Council was in full session about a long oval table.

  The Premier, who sat opposite the door, had risen from his seat, andwith a white face was staring directly into Westerham's eyes.

  The other ministers had thrust back their chairs, and were now upontheir feet. There was complete silence.

  Westerham had not the slightest fear of any of them being armed, andwithout a pause walked over to the table and knocked sharply with thebutt of his revolver on the polished wood.

  "Lord Penshurst," he said quietly, "I wish to speak to you."

  The Prime Minister's jaw opened and closed spasmodically, so that hiswhite beard wagged upon his breast. He made no answer.

  Silently the other ministers drew aside into two groups, leavingWesterham and the Premier facing each other in the centre of the room.

  With an effort, Lord Penshurst got the better of his agitated nervesand rapped out a sharp "What do you want?"

  "Lord Penshurst," said Westerham, calmly, "you know who I am. Youknow on what mission I am here. If you refuse to come round the tableto speak to me instantly and speak to me alone I cannot be heldresponsible for the consequences."

  The Premier, without a word and with trailing steps began to make thecircuit of the long table. As he approached, Westerham drew back sothat now he was at the entrance to the council chamber. He beckonedLord Penshurst still nearer.

  When the Premier was quite close to him he stooped and whispered intohis ear so that none of the other ministers could by any chance catchhis words.

  "If you want to save Lady Kathleen and yourself, you must come with meat once."

  Lord Penshurst said, "It's impossible!"

  "Don't argue," urged Westerham, almost roughly. "I regret to treat youwith so much disrespect, but the crisis for which you have been waitinghas now come. If you lose, you know what it will mean. But you need notlose if you will follow me now."

  During this conversation the startled ministers had drawn together, andthere was considerable outcry as Lord Penshurst turned to look at themwith a white face.

  "Be quick," said Westerham; "you must keep them quiet for about fiveminutes. Five minutes will do, but we must have that start. Don't fail,everything depends upon it."

  "Gentlemen," said the Premier, slowly and painfully, as a man speakingin a dream; "gentlemen, I must apologise for this interruption, butI assure you that the fault must not be
laid at the door of thisgentleman, but at mine. In five minutes I will return. In the meantimeI have to discuss more important business than any which could detainme here."

  The ministers looked at each other, utterly aghast. It was fortunatethat Westerham's entry had been so swift and so volcanic that theywere still partially dazed. Otherwise it might have been necessary forWesterham to take steps entailing consequences which no influence,however great, could possibly have averted.

  As it was, they gazed at the Premier and the tall form of Westerham,sullenly and stupidly.

  One of them, a younger man than the rest, suddenly remembered and criedout: "By George, it is the man who saved us all at the dance!"

  The other ministers looked at their colleague, with inquiry; but it wasan inquiry as to the meaning of the stranger's presence, and not as tohis exclamation. For the raid on Trant Hall was now a matter of publicknowledge and consuming public interest.

  Doubtless, but for the unimpeachable reputation of the Premier, someof them would have cried out that this was a traitorous piece of work.But in spite of all the appearances against him, Lord Penshurst'scolleagues were silent on this point.

  Seeing that the Premier had practically given his consent, Westerhamgrasped him by the arm and at a rapid rate half dragged him down thecorridor.

  As they passed the bound and gagged porter, who looked up withwondering and bewildered eyes at his master as he was dragged past him,the Premier could not refrain from uttering a little cry.

  "Never mind the man," said Westerham in his ear, and hurried him on.He left him standing by the red-baize door for a moment as he dashedback to turn the key in the lock of the inner vestibule. But before thePremier had an opportunity of protesting against this, Westerham wasback at his side and hastening him across the hall.

  In the hall Westerham looked rapidly about him. It struck him thatthe appearance of the Prime Minister being rushed hatless across thepavement to the motor-car might arouse curiosity on the part of thepoliceman who was slouching up and down along the pavement.

  He saw Lord Penshurst's hat, snatched it up, jammed it on the Premier'shead, and then, again stifling every protest on the part of the old manby curtly ordering him to be silent, ran him down the steps and acrossthe pavement to the car.

  By a miracle the policeman's back was, for the moment, turned toNo. 10, so that it was without the slightest let or hindrance thatWesterham and Mendip bundled the Premier into the car and that Lowtherstarted the motor on its long journey.

  So swift and overwhelming had been Westerham's attack that the agedPremier was still too overcome to demand any explanation or to ask anyquestions. He leant back against the upholstery, looking crushed andfrail, so frail that Westerham's heart smote him for the violence thathe had been forced to use. But he nerved himself to carry the thingthrough, comforting himself with the reflection that what he did mustprove the salvation of Kathleen.

  The car which Lowther drove was a hired one, but he was an expertdriver, and made good speed down Victoria Street to the BuckinghamPalace Road and over the Albert Bridge. In less than fifteen minutes hehad reached Battersea Park.

  Here he pulled up in a quiet spot and Westerham, opening the door ofthe motor-car, turned to Lord Penshurst.

  "I'm sorry," he said, "that I am obliged to ask you to walk, but yousee, although it is no more than a quarter of an hour since we leftDowning Street, the whole of London and Scotland Yard will by this timebe searching for you in all directions. And if there is to be any hopeof my being able to help you out of your difficulties, you must not berecognised."

  The Premier mumbled in his beard, but was still too dazed to make anyresistance. He followed Westerham out of the car, and suffered Mendipto take his arm.

  A fourth man had been idling by the side of the path when the car wasbrought to a standstill. This was a friend of Lowther's, who had beenpledged to secrecy. He had further promised to take the car back to thegarage, and, if necessary, to swear that it had been handed over to himby Lowther on the Barnet Road.

  Westerham's subtle mind indeed had thought out arrangements whichpractically precluded the possibility of their track being picked upand followed with success; though naturally the chances of escape werevery strong against him, for, if ever the police had worked, they wouldof a surety work now.

  Westerham led the way through the bushes to another roadway, on whichwas waiting a second car, driven by a second friend of Lowther's onwhom reliance could be placed.

  Westerham bundled Mendip and Lord Penshurst into it, while Lowtherclimbed up beside his friend. They lost no time, but drove boldly andrapidly back along the same route by which they had come until theyarrived at Victoria.

  There Lowther gave his friend instructions to make for BuckinghamPalace. Thence they raced up Constitution Hill into Piccadilly.

  Lowther had rooms in Stratton Street, which was immensely in favourof Westerham's hopes, inasmuch as few pedestrians and fewer vehiclesfrequented that aristocratic _cul-de-sac_.

  The street when they drew up was fortunately quite deserted, andWesterham's plans were further aided by the lucky fact that Lowther'sapartments were on the ground floor. Lowther had given them free use ofhis rooms, and as the Premier was hastily conducted into them he noddedto Westerham in intimation that his part of the business was nearlydone.

  He went out into the street again, and mounting the car drove away. Ithad been arranged that he should make for Salisbury in case he, too,was followed, and he had immediately agreed to the proposal, tiresomethough it was.

  Mendip did not enter the house, but walked rapidly into Piccadilly, andturning westward, made for the Automobile Club. There his low-built,yellow-painted racing motor-car was waiting for him, and, as he hadoften done, he took it over from the charge of his man, and, making adetour by way of Curzon Street and Piccadilly, got back to StrattonStreet just as Westerham was ready for him.

  In the interval the Premier had somewhat recovered from the dazed stateinto which he had been thrown, and indignantly demanded of Westerhamthe meaning of all his manoeuvres.

  "If you will be good enough to sit down for a few minutes, LordPenshurst," Westerham said, "I think I shall be able to make matters alittle clearer than they are at present.

  "As I told you at Trant, I have no notion what hold Melun has overyou. I can only see that it must be a hard and a very heavy one.You declined to believe that I was in reality Sir Paul Westerham. Icannot prove it to you yet until we find Lord Dunton. In the meantime,however, I will ask you if you think that the men who have assisted meto-day would be willing to do my bidding if they for a moment suspectedthat I was in league with any band of scoundrels.

  "With your own eyes you have seen Lowther and Mendip. Both men areknown to you, both men are gentlemen, and I think you should take itfor granted that if they are so kind as to assist me they are satisfiedthat I am doing what I should."

  Lord Penshurst wrinkled up his brows. He could not quite understand howit had come about that such men as Lowther and Mendip were apparentlyworking hand-in-glove with Westerham.

  "I trust," he said, "that you have not been so indiscreet as to makemention of my affairs to these gentlemen?"

  "None whatever. They have taken the steps they have because theyboth trust Dunton to the utmost. And however much they may have beeninfluenced by the hope of some fun, they were at least persuaded thatthere was a good and serious purpose at the back of this seeminglyharum-scarum adventure."

  Lord Penshurst could do nothing but gaze about him in a most distressedway, and Westerham sought to give him back his confidence as best hecould.

  "I assure you, Lord Penshurst," said Westerham, "that your only hope isto place yourself entirely in my hands. There is only one way out ofyour troubles; you must tell me the whole of your story, for I alonecan save you. I alone know Melun, understand him, and know how to dealwith him."

  Again the Premier gazed about him wearily. "But Dunton," he asked,"where is he? It is all very well for me to see
Lowther and Mendip withyou, but I must have Dunton's word that you are really the man you sayyou are."

  "Good," said Westerham; "I had already arranged, thinking that possiblyyou would prefer to be out of London, to take you down to Lord Dunton'syacht which is lying off Selsey Bill. However, if you prefer it, I willsend for Dunton to come here."

  "Very well," said the Premier, "I think I would prefer that."

  It was ten o'clock at night when Dunton arrived and was shown intoLowther's rooms. Dunton's story of Westerham was brief and to the point.

  At its conclusion the Premier bowed his head. "I capitulate, SirPaul," he said, "and I will tell you my secret."

  Dunton nodded approval and walked out of the room, leaving Westerhamand the Prime Minister alone.