The gallant McKay was still in doubt upon the point when, five hours later he woke with a start to see his cabin door swing softly back, and beheld two men silhouetted against the light of the passage; both of whom held pistols which were pointing at his head.
CHAPTER VIII
THE GENTLEMAN IN THE “OLD SCHOOL TIE”
The McKay raised himself on one elbow. From years of responsibility in the ships he had commanded he was by habit a light sleeper. It was that which had brought him wide awake the second his cabin door had been unhooked and swung softly open. It was that too which had half roused him a little time before to the knowledge that a launch had come alongside and that people were moving about on the deck above. He had wondered vaguely then what they were up to at such an hour, but put it down to a shore party among the crew returning late from a binge in Horta. As a passenger such things were none of his business so he had dropped off to sleep again, but this was a very different affair.
“What the hell!” he exclaimed sharply.
“Get up!” said the taller of the two men, switching on the light.
The McKay blinked for a moment and stared at the intruders. They were hard-faced looking fellows clad in flashy, striped lounge suits.
“What the thunderin’ blazes—” he began, but the taller man cut him short again.
“Get up,” he repeated tonelessly.
The McKay proceeded to show a leg. He was far too old a bird to contemplate any heroics against these purposeful looking gunmen.
“Hurry!” said the man. “You’re wanted in the deck parlour.”
“Who wants me?” enquired the McKay, struggling into his slippers.
“Oxford Kate wants you.”
“Does she indeed. Well I’d hate to keep a lady waiting.”
“Oxford’s no skirt an’ he’ll make it hot fer you plenty if you don’t make it snappy.”
The McKay did not like the look of things at all. He was thinking that Sally and Camilla would get a very nasty shock if they received a similar visitation. However he could do nothing for the moment except save loss of ‘face’ as far as possible. It would never do to allow these raiders to suppose that he was scared so, as he ran a comb through his crisp sandy greyish hair that had once been fiery red, he said curtly:
“If one of you care to take a message you can say that Captain McKay presents his compliments to Mr Oxford Kate and will be with him in two minutes.”
Both men ignored the remark so he took his silk dressing-gown off its hook and handed the garment to the man who had so far remained silent.
The fellow stretched out his free hand and had taken it by the collar before he realised quite what he was doing. Then, as the McKay turned his back and slipped one arm through a sleeve, the man’s mouth dropped open.
“Well!” he exclaimed, “can yer beat that?”
“It’ll be a great laugh for the bunch,” the other’s lip curled in a sneer. “Jeff the Razz turns clothes help to English society man.”
“You’d better! You spill that an’ I’ll—” the smaller man began venomously.
“Aw can it now,” his friend cut in harshly. “Kate’s up above.”
The McKay hoped for a second that they might go for each other but seeing that there was no likelihood of the quarrel becoming violent he tightened the girdle of his robe and said:
“Now I’m ready to go and see the owner.”
“The who?”
“Your friend who has apparently taken control of this ship.”
“Oh sure—come on then.” The taller of the two jerked his head towards the door. “Get in front and head fer the deck parlour. Any funny business an’ you’re for it—see!”
The McKay had seen several moments before, that from the way they handled their guns his two visitors were evidently accustomed to using them so, without further comment, he preceded them along the passage and up the hatchway.
The lounge was fully lit and as the McKay glanced round it he took an even grimmer view of the situation.
At the doorway stood two more gunmen, impassive but watchful, with their weapons prominently displayed. To the right, Nicky, clad in silks which for their colours would have rivalled the plumage of a bird of paradise, lounged sullenly upon a settee, his legs stuck out before him. Beside him was the Doctor, swathed in thick flannel night attire and looking more worried than ever while, at their feet, Prince Vladimir, breathing stertorously, was laid out neatly with a pillow beneath his head—unconscious on the floor.
Opposite this unhappy little group stood Slinger and Captain Ardow, both fully dressed, but the figure who immediately engaged the McKay’s attention was a well made man of about forty, with a broad forehead and shrewd blue eyes, who sat behind a desk that occupied the middle of the apartment. His fair hair was a trifle thin, parted in the centre and brushed neatly back. The striped tie of a well known public school lent a patch of colour to his admirably cut lounge suit. Something about him suggested a combination of racing motorist, banker, and dandy, all merged into one strong personality.
“Captain McKay.” It was a statement rather than an enquiry which came from the man at the desk and even the intonation of those two words spoken with quick assurance were enough to suggest the reason for his soubriquet “Oxford”.
“Guilty,” replied the McKay. “Mr Kate I imagine?”
The other smiled although his blue eyes remained hard and cold. “A somewhat vulgar witticism on the part of my henchmen, derived perhaps from my preference for silk shirting and my choice of socks. The ancient firm of Seal and Unman who supply them would be quite horrified if they knew that I think—don’t you?”
“I’ve never heard of “em,” replied the McKay abruptly.
“Never mind—the name serves as well as any other—sit down.” Mr Kate carefully ticked the McKay’s name on a list which he had in front of him and, as he looked up again, Count Axel was marched in between two more of his men.
“Count Axel Fersan?” he enquired sharply.
“That is my name,” Count Axel regarded him steadily from beneath half lowered lids.
“You, I am sure will have heard of Seal and Unman—am I right?”
The Count’s face went blank with surprise for a second then he smiled. “Of course, when I can afford such luxuries I still get my things from them.”
“Do you? In that case my people will probably call you Maud—be seated please.” Despite the cynical jest Mr Kate’s blue eyes still remained cold and unsmiling as he ticked off the Count’s name on his paper.
The McKay’s two captors had disappeared and, after a few moments of almost electric silence, they reappeared with Sally between them.
“Miss Hart I think?” the man behind the desk rose to his feet politely as he asked the question.
Sally stared at him angrily. Her hair was scraped back from her forehead and, below her dressing-gown which she clutched tightly round her, portions of her seductive pyjamas were visible.
“Yes,” she snapped, “what’s the meaning of all this?”
“A little meeting to save you inconvenience to-morrow. Will you be seated—to the left there next to my friend Mr. Slinger. You know each other of course.”
“So he’s your friend, eh?” Sally cried bitterly, “and he’s up and dressed so he’s let us in for this.” Her glance flashed murder at Slinger, then it fell on the still form of the Roumanian Prince.
“Oh, what have you done to him!” She started forward but Oxford Kate waved her back.
“Don’t worry please, Miss Hart. He very foolishly resisted when I sent for him, so my men were compelled to hit him over his thick skull with their rubber truncheons—he will come round in a minute.”
“You brute!” Ignoring his signal she fell on her knees beside Vladimir just as Camilla was brought into the room.
Kate turned to her at once. “La Duchessa Da Solento-Ragina?”
Camilla’s face was pale but her eyes steady. “What is this?” she asked in
a low voice. “A hold up?”
Vladimir groaned and Camilla, catching sight of Sally bending over him, ran to them without waiting for an answer.
“Oh my poor lamb!” she exclaimed, slipping her arm gently beneath his head.
His painful grimace gave way to a sudden smile. “Camilla, it is you! I was sprung upon too much but to see you safe is my reimburse for all distresses.”
“He was the only one who had the pluck to put up a fight,” said Sally, glancing indignantly at the others.
“My brave Vladimir,” Camilla whispered and, ‘with tears filling her blue eyes for a second, she stooped and kissed him swiftly on the cheek.
“Very pretty,” sneered the big man at the desk. “Now, if you’ve quite finished I should be glad if you would give me your attention.”
The two girls stared angrily at him but he motioned to a couple of his men. “Get the Prince up into a chair and if the ladies won’t sit down kindly persuade them.”
As the gunmen advanced Prince Vladimir staggered to his feet unaided and collapsed next to Nicky on the settee. The girls did as they were told without further argument. Kate’s eight men took up positions at the entrances of the apartment and he sat down heavily behind the desk again.
For a moment he remained silent, his hard eyes travelling without a flicker of emotion over each of their faces in turn, apparently assessing and registering the qualities of his prisoners, then he said quietly:
“My business concerns only the Duchess, but it occurred to me that if I saw her alone, she would pass on some garbled version of our interview to the rest of you immediately she got the opportunity. It is better therefore that you should hear what I have to say then there can be no excuse for any of you men attempting any heroics under the impression that you can prevent me carrying out my decision regarding her.
“I hope it is obvious to you all that my word is now law on board this ship. Anyone who endeavours to interfere with my wishes will be summarily dealt with. Captain Ardow and his men are in my pay so you need not imagine that you will receive any assistance from the crew—”
“Damn it, man!” the McKay broke in, “this is worse than piracy!”
“Thanks,” Oxford Kate snapped with equal sharpness. “If you are thinking of treating me to a dissertation on the punishment meted out to seafaring criminals at Execution Dock in the years gone by you may save yourself the trouble.”
“It’s a kidnapping hold up,” cried Camilla. “But you’re making a big mistake if you think you can extort money from me.”
“I don’t,” he replied evenly. “That would be crude and my plans have been worked out with considerable care. To begin with, you, my dear Duchess, are going to die.”
The effect of his words was electric. The whole party stiffened with a cold positive horror. Camilla went deadly white and clutched at Sally. Axel’s thin lips contracted in a sudden spasm, Nicky jerked back his legs and sat forward with staring eyes, while the Prince staggered to his feet and let out a roar like a bull.
One of the gunmen jabbed him in the ribs with an automatic and he fell back with a choking cough on to the settee but, his eyes night-black with rage, he would have struggled up again if the McKay had not held him down by the shoulders from behind for fear that they would shoot him.
“You can’t!” cried Sally wildly. “You can’t!—you can’t! Oh, you inhuman devil. She—she’ll pay—of course she will,” and she threw her arms protectively about Camilla.
Kate held up his hand for silence but they refused to heed him. Doctor Tisch’s face had gone a deep suffused red, as though he was going to have a fit. “No bloodshed,” he spluttered, “no bloodshed. Herr Slinger I appeal to you!”
The McKay released the Prince and stepped from behind him with his chin stuck out. “Look here,” he said firmly, “you can’t get away with murder on the high seas in these days. Even if you butcher the lot of us, the truth will out, and if your own people don’t give you away there are too many hands in the crew for one of them not to split on you. If you think you can make off safely because you’ve got this ship, you’re mistaken. Within a week half the navies in the world will be after you.”
“If you think that I could not kill her and get away with it you are wrong, my gallant Captain.” The fair man suddenly leaned forward across his desk. “The Duchess, with her well-known love of excitement, has been sufficiently ill-advised to finance Doktor Herman Tisch’s expedition for the rediscovery of the lost continent of Atlantis and become a member of it. You would not know it, of course, but the papers in London and New York are already full of wild statements regarding this unusual cruise. I have seen to that. Now the essential portion of the exploration is to be carried out by a series of descents into the ocean depths in Doctor Tisch’s bathysphere. The public has been well informed, by my agents via the press, as to the very grave risk attaching to such courageous descents to the ocean bottom. Should some unfortunate accident occur to the bathysphere when the Duchess is in it no one will be the least surprised. The newspapers will run it as a great story for a weel and preach delightful sermons about this beautiful and wealthy young woman who so courageously gave her life in the interests of science. After that there will be silence and no one outside this room would ever have cause for the least suspicion that the Duchess had been murdered.”
“You, I imagine, have taken steps to become her heir?” Count Axel suggested quietly.
“Exactly. You are a man of intelligence, Count.”
“What!” barked the McKay. “You mean to send her below with a time bomb in that damned thing. God man! You’re English! You couldn’t do it!”
“I kill,” shouted Vladimir lurching to his feet again. “I stamp out this so low swine.”
The McKay, Axel and Doctor Tisch flung themselves upon him and forced him back before the gunmen could intervene. A storm of horrified protest rose from the others.
“I won’t go,” screamed Camilla, “I won’t! I won’t!”
“Silence!” Kate brought his fist down with a crash on the desk. “If you were not so excitable and would listen instead of interrupting you would have heard, by this time, my true intention.”
A sudden hush fell among them. The terrifying picture which had been conjured up in all their minds, and made more real by the stony unsmiling determination with which their captor spoke of it in his level cultured, voice had chilled their hearts and frayed all their nerves almost to panic but now, although they could not guess his meaning, something in the tone of his last words seemed to hold a glimmer of hope for Camilla.
“You are far better looking than I had anticipated,” he said gazing at her thoughtfully. “However, that is beside the point. I kill without scruple when it is necessary—but never wantonly—so if you had been old and toothless I would still have had no objection to your living out your natural span—provided of course that you do exactly as I tell you. It is essential for my purpose that, as far as your friends in New York and London are concerned, you should die within a week.”
Count Axel released his breath with a sharp sigh and spoke again. “You mean that the Duchess is only to die officially?”
“Yes.”
A murmur of intense relief ran round among them as the man behind the desk went on.
“She will die in fact only if she refuses to do as she is told and, in such a case you can scream your heads off but, believe me, I’ll send her down in the bathysphere and see to it that she never comes up again. What’s more I’ll send the lot of you with her but, if she signs certain papers in accordance with my directions no one will have anything to fear.”
“You mean her will?” asked Axel.
“Yes, that and a letter to her New York lawyer which she must write herself.”
“Then you’re planning to rob her of her entire fortune,” exclaimed Sally heatedly.
“Why take two bites at a cherry,” he replied evenly. “Do I appear to you like the ordinary gangster who risks a long term in
Sing Sing for the sake of a few thousand dollars. However many fools may sneer at it there is some benefit to be derived from a decent education.” He fingered his ‘old school tie’ with grim unsmiling humour.
“But what’s to become of her if you take all her money?” Sally asked bitterly. “She—she’ll starve.”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Quite a lot of people are starving already through no fault of their own. She has been remarkably fortunate to have had the enjoyment of so much money for so long, and I see no reason at all why she should actually die of hunger. She is doubly lucky in having been blessed with good looks as well as money. I can’t take those from her—at least I could—but I have no intention of doing that, so let her utilise them to provide for her future as other women have to.”
“See here,” Nicky remarked, “that means you’ll have to land us all some place sometime, and it’s not going to be so funny for you when the police have heard this story.”
“You underrate my intelligence, I fear,” Kate sat back and brought the tips of his square, blunt, practical fingers together. “Let me outline for you my intentions regarding this interesting cruise. In a few minutes the Duchess will sign her last will and testament and the letter which I require. I shall take these documents ashore and register them through the ordinary post to New York to-morrow, or rather this morning. That is the last you will see of me. The cruise will then proceed as previously arranged under Doctor Tisch’s guidance. My men however, will remain on board to assist Captain Ardow in his management of the crew and to make quite certain that none of you communicate by wireless or other means with the authorities on shore or passing vessels. The search for Atlantis will develop entirely as planned. Numerous descents will be made in the bathysphere and my friend Slinger will transmit carefully edited reports of each descent over the radio for the use of the press in both hemispheres. On the seventh day from now, by which time the documents will be in the possession of the Duchess’s lawyers, an unfortunate ‘accident’ will occur—at least Slinger will wireless a report of it so that the world will learn from the headlines of its newspapers that the beautiful Duchess and her friends, with the exception of Miss Hart, have lost their lives a mile deep in the ocean—and of course her executors will meet to deal with the instructions in her will. This ship will then return to Horta. Slinger will land and hurry to New York in order to give a personal account of the tragedy and convince the lawyers beyond question that the report is genuine. Further he will state that Miss Hart is so upset by the occurrence that rather than face countless interviews with the press she has decided to be landed at an unknown destination and travel incognito until the public interest in the tragedy has died down.
They Found Atlantis Page 10
