‘I have not seen him during the last fortnight.’
‘Oh, before they put him behind the bars, I mean.’
‘Once or twice only—since I returned to England.’
‘Is that so? … You sure are some fast worker.’
Avril flushed. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said quickly.
‘I’ll say you know all right—but let’s not go into that now; keep the party clean, as we say in the States.’
‘I should much prefer to do so.’
‘I guess you would. Well, then, this is what I figure to do. Nelson shot that little wop all right and we both know it. If I say he was with me all evening—how’s that go with you?’
‘Yes, if you can prove it. I’m afraid they will not accept your word alone.’
‘Of course they won’t. I’m wise to that, but I bin fixin’ things, squared an old boy friend, the hall-porter, and two waiters at a road house twenty miles outside Hollywood to say Nelson was there dancing with me all night. I guess with their backing, my story ought to get over.’
‘Yes,’ said Avril, a sudden light of hope showing in her eyes. ‘Yes, if you can count on them I really think there is a chance.’
‘Well, what d’you say?’
‘What do I say?—I think it’s splendid, and most awfully clever of you.’
‘But are you game to play up?’
‘Certainly I am.’
‘Do you realise just what it means, Miss Bamborough? They’ll sure pick on you again, it’ll be terrible unpleasant, and I guess your only line’ll be to say you gave Angelo his in self-defence.’
‘Yes—I realise that.’
‘An’ you’ll go through with it?’
‘Yes.’
An unwilling admiration showed in Vitelma’s eyes. ‘Well, I’ll sure hand it to you for guts,’ she said. ‘Seems to me you must be mighty sweet on him.’
‘I think we might leave that out,’ said Avril coldly.
‘I’m willin’. I guess I can look after Nelson when I’m with him, even if there are other dames about.’
Avril had a very different opinion as far as Nelson and herself were concerned, but she thought it best to allow Miss Love-day to continue in her armour of conceit.
‘Now there’s another thing,’ Vitelma went on. ‘Jus’ a littl’ matter of a present Nelson made to you—when you got him all het up.’
‘I’m afraid I don’t understand, he has never made me a present in his life, except for the things he gave me when he shipped me off to England.’
Vitelma nodded. ‘So that’s how he got away with it, was it? He’s got brains all right, has Nelson, but I suppose you don’t figure that the sole rights on the “Z” Projector is any sort of gift?’
Avril sat forward suddenly. ‘What do you mean? The “Z” Projector has nothing to do with this.’
‘You’re not denying by any chance that he did pass it over, are you?’
‘No. I am holding it at his wish.’
‘That’s O.K. then. But as Nelson’s fiancée, I guess I’m the proper person to keep my fist on any little thing like that, that’s knocking round, while he’s behind the bars.’
‘That might be so in an ordinary case,’ Avril agreed, ‘but not in this. Nelson made over to me the rights of the “Z” Projector for a specific purpose connected with his business. I consider myself entirely as his trustee—that is all.’
‘Then you’re not prepared to hand over?’
‘No. I’m sorry but I can’t. Of course, at any time Nelson wishes to have these patents back I am quite willing to give them to him, or, for that matter, I will agree to hand them over to anybody else if it is on his instructions, but I should need to receive those instructions from him by word of mouth. No written document would satisfy me.’
‘Now wait a minute, Miss Bamborough, what’s going to happen when Nelson comes out?’
‘I’m sure I don’t know,’ Avril parried a little faintly.
Vitelma leaned forward, looking straight into her face. ‘D’you think he’s going to marry you?’
‘I don’t know,’ repeated Avril in an even lower voice.
‘No, but I guess you got your own idea. Now, say he throws me down—though why he should God knows, Nelson Druce isn’t all that wonderful—but say he does—what happens then?’
‘I don’t know,’ Avril repeated once more.
‘You don’t know, kiddo, well, I’ll tell you—Vitelma Love day has to get back to work, an’ that’s all about it. But if Vitelma’s got the “Z” Projector Nelson’ll get over his fit of the bats and come through the marriage lines—d’you get me?’
‘Yes, I do.’ Avril spoke quickly. ‘You want to force him to marry you whether he wishes to or not. Now look here, I’ll be frank with you, I love him, I make no excuses for that, none whatever, but I do and I’m willing to pass several months in an American prison in order to save him. I’m doing more, all my life I shall be branded as a woman who killed a man, whatever the excuse may be—while all you’re doing is a little mild lying in a witness box. Well, then, let’s start fair. God knows you’re attractive enough, you ought to be able to keep a man, and you’ll have the enormous advantage of being with him all the time I’m in prison—let him make up his own mind, you’ll be with him and I shan’t, but I don’t care; let him choose for himself when I come out.’
‘Nothing doin’.’ Vitelma shook her head firmly.
‘You’re afraid,’ Avril taunted her. ‘You’re afraid—you don’t love him, you don’t care a straw for him, you’re after his money and position, and he doesn’t love you, that’s why you’re frightened … you know that you can’t hold him.’
Vitelma kept her temper remarkably well in the circumstances. She only laughed and nodded her golden head. ‘Well, baby, you have got it badly, and that’s a fact. Nothin’ doin’, my dear. Nothin’ doin’ at all, you’re just going to be a good kid and hand over that “Z” Projector.’
‘I’m sorry, that is quite impossible, unless it is Nelson’s own wish.’
‘Nelson’s wish! Now, kid, don’t try an’ pull that stuff—you sure want to keep it for yourself. What good ‘ud the projector be to Nelson if he gets fifteen years?’
Avril’s face went a shade paler. ‘You—you can’t mean that you’re going to let the question of the projector interfere with your saving him.’
‘I certainly do.’
‘What—having it in your power to procure his release, you’d deliberately sit still and let him be sentenced because I won’t hand over this miserable invention?’
‘That’s so.’ Vitlema looked away quickly, she did not like this particular part of her role one little bit.
‘It’s impossible,’ gasped Avril. ‘I never did believe you loved him, never—but this is beyond belief. I could understand if you really minded perjuring yourself, but it’s not that—you’re bargaining, haggling, trying to make capital out of your fiancé’s misfortune.’
‘Maybe,’ Vitelma answered doggedly. ‘I got to look after myself, ain’t I? You seem pretty certain you’ve taken him away from me—all right, why should you have it all your own way? You let up in the “Z”, and we’ll see who gets Nelson later.’
‘But don’t you understand that I can’t. It isn’t mine.’
‘Now that’s a lie.’
‘It’s in my name, but I couldn’t possibly make it over to you without Nelson’s consent.’
‘It’s bein’ in your name’s what matters. See here.’ Vitelma drew a paper from her bag. ‘I’ve had a letter all typed out ready; you just be sensible and sign on the dotted line.’
Avril’s mind was in a turmoil. One thing at least stood out clearly. She need have no further scruples about having come between Nelson and Vitelma. The girl simply did not care a straw for him, she was prepared to sell him for what she could get. It was horrible, but as Avril thought about it she realised that Vitelma was only behaving in a way which might be expected of her and ta
king steps to protect herself. Her life had been one long struggle to stardom from the gutters of Detroit. When she saw her rich lover slipping through her fingers, it was natural that she should try every means to save something from the wreck. Avril would have been only too willing to sign away the ‘Z’ Projector if she could save Nelson, but she knew how bitterly he would feel about it, she must allow him to choose for himself. The thing was not hers to give away.
‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s quite out of the question—but if there is any other way. It seems that this has turned into a business discussion now. If it is a question of securing your future in the event of Nelson not marrying you, I am willing to do anything I can. I am not rich in the American sense, but I could settle quite a decent sum on you.’
Vitelma shook her head. ‘Nothin’ doin’, kiddo, it’s the “Z” I want.’
Avril rose to her feet. ‘Well, I’m sorry. The only thing I can suggest is that I should see Nelson tomorrow. If he’s willing, I’ll do it, of course.’
‘That ain’t no good. You know Nelson, he’s pig-headed as hell. I guess he’d rather go behind the bars than do what he don’t want. It’s up to you to save him in spite of himself, that’s how I see it.’
Avril knew just how right Vitelma was. She felt instinctively that Vitelma would hold the possession of the projector over him as a threat. If he refused to marry her, she would sell it to the Combine. Nelson would see that himself, and he would never agree. ‘No,’ she said. ‘No—I can’t possibly do it.’
‘Is that so?’ came a man’s sharp voice. One of the three tiny doors in the minstrels’ gallery above their heads had been thrown open, and looking up with a start Avril saw Hinckman frowning down upon her.
‘Ronnie, quick!’ She rushed for the door into the passage just below the place where Hinckman was crouching, realising with a sudden terror that she had been trapped.
The door opened at her touch, but on the other side stood a man who quietly raised an automatic to the level of her chest. She could not see his face, he wore a leather helmet and motor goggles. With his free hand he roughly pushed her back.
‘Take me away,’ she cried to Ronnie. ‘Take me away—you promised.’
Ronnie was looking uncomfortable. He had sat silent, quietly smoking, his feet upon a chair, throughout her interview with Vitelma. He stood up slowly now, running his hand through his curly hair. ‘Look here, Avril,’ he said. ‘You’ve no need to worry—nobody’s going to hurt you, but why don’t you sign this wretched thing? Really it would be best for everybody, you know.’
‘I won’t, I won’t,’ Avril protested fiercely.
Hinckman’s heavy tread could be heard coming down an unseen staircase from the room above. He pushed past the man in the passage and joined them. The man came in, still carrying his automatic. He closed the door behind him and leant against it.
‘Now see here,’ said Hinckman sharply. ‘I guess you’ve caused us too much trouble by half, an’ I’m through with you. You’ll sign that paper right now, and no monkeying.’
Avril shook her head wildly. ‘I won’t sign, I refuse.’ She turned fiercely on Vitelma. ‘You were lying—the whole thing was a plant. You didn’t want this thing to protect yourself with Nelson, you were going to turn it over right away to his enemies; the very thought of you makes me sick. How could any woman be so vile.’
Hinckman gripped her by the wrist and forced her down into a chair by the table. ‘Cut out the talk—and sign, or it’ll be the worse for you.’
She struggled wildly to free her arm. ‘I won’t,’ she screamed. ‘I won’t—let go, you’re hurting!’
He gave her wrist a sharp twist, the pain was agonising.
‘Oh!’ she screamed. ‘Help! Ronnie, you can’t let him do this.’
Ronnie’s face had gone a shade paler under the brown tan that he still retained from his stay in Hollywood. He stood with his back to the fireplace, his hands in his pockets.
‘Look’ here,’ he stared at Hinckman, ‘I’ve had enough of this. It was understood that there should be no funny business. She signs of her own free will or I take her back to Hatfield.’
‘Sez you,’ growled Hinckman.
‘Says me,’ Ronnie’s voice had become suddenly sharp.
‘An’ who the thunderin’ hell are you, anyhow? I’ve got this damned cutie where I want her now, an’ she don’t leave this house before she’s signed. Get that?’ Hinckman’s face had turned deep red, his eyes were half closed, and his chin jutted forward. Suddenly it seemed as though his well-tailored clothes became ill-fitting on his body. He was no longer the millionaire business man, but the primitive, dangerous half-breed of the Western mining camp where force was law and death the portion of the vanquished.
Ronnie’s blue eyes had gone hard and glittering. ‘Let her go—d’you hear, and quick about it.’ His voice had all the quiet authority that he had inherited from his long line of ancestors…. Men who had landed with the hardy Normans and held commands at Cressy, Agincourt, Poitiers.
‘Lupus.’ Hinckman’s sharp order rang out to the man at the door. ‘Get that guy!’
But Ronnie was too quick. His brown hand closed upon a whisky bottle, and with all the strength of his broad shoulders he brought it crashing down on the man’s head. The fellow dropped where he stood, his automatic clattering to the floor. Then Ronnie went for Hinckman with the ugliest weapon in the world, the jagged end of the broken bottle, the neck still clutched tightly in his hand.
Hinckman dropped Avril’s wrist and leaped to the other side of the table. Vitelma screamed. Avril was only just in time to save the lamp. If it had gone over the whole place would have been on fire in a few seconds. She picked it up for safety, holding it to light the combatants in their grim fight.
The two men glared at each other across the table, both crouched ready to spring. Ronnie made a sudden dash, lunging at Hinckman’s face with the jagged bottle. Hinckman dodged, slipping to the other side of the table again. Vitelma stood there screaming, her hands above her head. Hinckman pushed her roughly and she fell, gasping for breath, upon a small settee.
Suddenly Hinckman stepped backwards towards the door, he slipped in the blood that was pouring from his gunman’s head, fell to his knees, but his hand found the automatic. Ronnie rushed in upon him, Hinckman took the jagged bottle upon his upraised arm; he gave a sharp cry of pain as the glass cut into his flesh, Then came the crash of shots. He fired twice, point-blank, into Ronnie’s body. With a choking gasp Ronnie crashed forward in a heap.
Avril was horror struck—there was nothing she could do to help him, she must try to save herself, but she was embarrassed with the lamp. She set it down with trembling hands and dashed for the big window, but Hinckman was on his feet. Just as she reached the sill his fingers closed upon her hair. As he jerked her backwards she screamed with pain. Struggling wildly he dragged her across the room, over the two bodies, and out into the passage. Then he unlocked a door. In the faint light she saw some cellar steps, next second he had flung her down them, and turned the key quickly in the lock.
22
The Horror of the Marsh
To Avril, it seemed a long time that she lay dazed and stupified, where she had fallen on the stone floor of the cellar.
She was brusied and shaken, her head was aching atrociously, her clothes were torn, and her hair hung in disorder about her face.
Slowly the full horror of the situation began to penetrate her mind. She had been trapped into coming to the cottage for this meeting with Vitelma. Ronnie could not have known, of course, at least he must have realised that Hinckman would be there, but not that he would use force. Now Ronnie was dead or dying, only a miracle could have saved him from those bullets fired at close range straight into his body, so she was left powerless in Hinckman’s clutches.
He would come back presently, she supposed, and try to force her into signing that agreement. He might torture her. He seemed quite capable of it, her wrist ached dully
where he had twisted it, and every time she moved, a sharp pain ran up her arm.
She picked herself up and sat down on the cellar steps, wondering vaguely if there were any means of escape. The place was pitch-dark, there was not even a ray of light under the cellar door.
After a little rest she decided to explore, and standing up, moved slowly forward with her hand upon the wall. She had only gone a few steps when she stumbled and nearly fell over some knobby thing that sounded, as it moved, like a lump of coal. She felt about in the region of her feet and soon decided that it must be the coal cellar in which she was imprisoned. That gave her some little hope, there must be some opening in the roof through which the coal was shot in. If she could find it and it was not too high up out of her reach, she stood some chance of getting out. She began to climb up the stack of coal, its apex should surely be near the place where it had been shot in. The coal slithered and tumbled beneath her feet, making a terrific din in the small confined space. She feared every moment that Hinckman must hear it in the room above, but there was no sound from overhead.
Scrambling breathlessly to the top of the pile, she bumped her head. A little thrill of hope ran through her. The roof must be immediately above, in fact, she could not stand upright. She felt about but could discover nothing except joists and beams, the cracks between them she assumed to be the joining of the floor-boards. Presently she found a crack that ran cross-ways to the others, and then her fingers fumbled on a rusty hinge. There was a trap-door, then, if only she could open it?
She felt about again and found another hinge, then the crack along the other end and a bolt holding the trap firmly shut. She wriggled back the bolt and pressed upwards with her hands. The trap-door gave very slightly, enough to show a pale ray of light for a moment and let in a breath of cold, damp air—it must open into the garden.
She pressed again, but as she did so the heap of coal gave beneath her feet and she nearly caught her fingers. The door seemed to be a terrific weight. She struggled manfully, but every time she got it a few inches open, the lumps of coal slid from under her and she found that she was losing height. Then she had an idea. She hunted round for a small, flat piece of coal and next time she got the trap open, she wedged it so that it could not shut again. After that things improved, it gave her a faint, steady light to work by. She jammed the opening with more lumps of coal, gradually getting them further back along the sides towards the hinges, until at last the front was raised enough for her to crawl through.
Such Power is Dangerous Page 23
