Devil's Cocktail (Wallace of the Secret Service Series)

by Alexander Wilson

  ‘Unlike your College, Shannon,’ said Rahtz, as they walked away from the hostel, ‘we have students of all creeds, but they live separately. This place, for instance, is exclusively devoted to Hindus, and there is one for Mohammedans, with a small mosque attached, and another for Sikhs, but they are both some distance away.’

  ‘Do you ever have trouble between the Hindus and Muslims?’ asked Hugh.

  ‘Not the slightest!’

  ‘What do you do when communal riots take place?’

  ‘Nothing! Of course we keep a close watch on the students, but there has never been any cause for misgiving. During every riot that has taken place while I have been here, the fellows have behaved in an exemplary manner.’

  He took them into the laboratory, which they found most interesting. He himself was a doctor of science, and he seemed to be in his element as he spoke, at great length, of the research work his science professors were carrying on, and became quite enthusiastic as he showed them the apparatus, which was certainly very up-to-date. At last they returned to his office, where Hugh and Miles expressed their thanks for his courtesy in showing them round.

  ‘It has been a great pleasure,’ he declared. ‘And now you must come across to my bungalow and have a drink!’

  Both Shannon and the American protested that they felt no inclination to drink just then, but Rahtz was so insistent that they gave in in the end for fear of appearing rude, and accompanied him across the road to his bungalow, a very fine place lying back amidst a perfect riot of colour from the beautiful flowers, which were growing all round it.

  Rahtz apologised for the absence of his wife, who, he explained, was lunching out. He showed them into an exquisitely furnished drawing room done completely in the Indian style, with rich hangings from Kashmir, rugs from Afghanistan, brasses from Benares, marble work from Agra and Lucknow, and curios which seemed to have been collected from all parts of the country.

  ‘What will you drink?’ asked their host, as soon as they were seated.

  ‘Let it be something light,’ replied Hugh; ‘I couldn’t face beer or whisky.’

  ‘I guess I feel the same,’ said Miles.

  ‘What about cocktails?’

  ‘That sounds good to me,’ nodded the American.

  ‘The only thing I can think of with equanimity,’ agreed Hugh.

  ‘Well, if you’ll excuse me for a few minutes,’ smiled Rahtz, ‘I’ll go and mix them. I never allow such a sacred rite to be performed by a servant.’

  He hurried from the room. As soon as he was out of earshot Miles leant across to Hugh.

  ‘Say,’ he whispered, ‘I’d like to know why he was so almighty anxious for us to have a drink.’

  ‘Wanted to impress us with his friendship, I suppose.’

  ‘I wonder!’ murmured the American, and sat back.

  In five minutes Rahtz was back followed by a bearer carrying a tray on which were three glasses full to the brim with a sparkling amber liquid. He handed one each to his guests, and took the other himself.

  ‘You must tell me how you like this, gentlemen!’ he said. ‘It is a concoction of my own. Here’s to your very good health!’ There was a slight emphasis on the last word.

  He raised the glass to his lips, and the others followed suit.

  ‘Gee!’ exclaimed the American suddenly, and Hugh stopped in the act of drinking to stare at him. ‘Have you a telephone, Mr Rahtz?’

  ‘Yes; why?’

  ‘Can I borrow it? I forgot to cancel a luncheon appointment, and it’s nearly one now!’

  ‘Of course! Come this way!’

  He put down his glass and led the way from the room, followed by Miles, who, before going, whispered tersely in Hugh’s ear:

  ‘Change your glass for his!’

  When they had disappeared into the corridor, Hugh smelt his cocktail, and examined it curiously, then with a smile and a shrug of his shoulders he pulled Rahtz’s glass a little towards him, and put his in its place. He knew that Miles had no luncheon appointment, and he walked across the room to look at a picture wondering what had made the American suspect that there was any danger to be apprehended from an apparently innocent-looking cocktail. He was inclined to ridicule the whole thing. It was absurd to think that Rahtz would dare to make an attempt on his life in circumstances when his guilt would be so evident. But Miles was no fool and Hugh had placed the glasses close together in order that the drama could have a fitting climax if the American was disposed to give it one.

  In the meantime Miles telephoned to a friend of his. He was immediately answered by the man himself, who listened in a state of bewilderment while the former apologised profoundly for not ringing up sooner to say that he was unable to come to luncheon. The poor man tried to explain that the American had not been invited, as far as he knew, whereupon Miles threw him into an even greater sense of stupor.

  ‘Thanks very much,’ he said. ‘I guess you’re a darn good sort to take it so well. Another day? … Sure, I’ll be delighted!’ And he placed the receiver back on its hook.

  He turned and smiled at Rahtz.

  ‘I guess I’m a forgetful sort of guy,’ he said. ‘I’ll be getting myself a bad name if I break appointments like that.’

  He linked his arm in the other’s in the most friendly fashion, and they returned to the drawing room.

  Hugh was still gazing at the picture, but he turned as they entered, and seeing Miles looking at him questioningly nodded significantly towards the glasses. Rahtz picked up the one he thought was his.

  ‘Why, you haven’t touched your cocktail yet, Shannon,’ he said.

  ‘I naturally waited,’ was the reply.

  He raised the glass, the three men pledged each other, and sipped the liquor.

  ‘It’s jolly nice,’ said Hugh.

  ‘Bully,’ agreed Miles.

  ‘I’m glad you think so,’ said Rahtz, sitting back in his chair and apparently well pleased with the praise. ‘I always mix this cocktail for special guests, and I’ve had no end of fellows bothering me to give them the recipe, but I always keep it to myself.’

  ‘I guess you do,’ said Miles. ‘Say, Rahtz,’ he went on, ‘let me see your glass, may I?’

  The Russian handed it to him, and watched with a frown on his face while Miles examined it with a look of curiosity.

  ‘I like this ornamental ring round it,’ he said. ‘It’s sure artistic!’

  ‘Ornamental ring!’ gasped Rahtz, and his face went a sickly white.

  Miles nodded.

  ‘I thought I noticed it on Shannon’s glass, when you first handed them round,’ he said carelessly.

  ‘Perhaps it was,’ said Hugh. ‘I suppose Rahtz picked up mine instead of his own – they were close together!’

  ‘Give it to me!’ almost screamed the Russian.

  He took one glance at it, and put it down on the table with a groan of agony.

  ‘My God!’ he gasped. ‘Oh, my God!’

  He looked wildly from one to the other, then starting to his feet he staggered from the room. Hugh had gone white at this manifestation of Miles’ suspicions, but the latter only smiled calmly as he looked across at his colleague.

  ‘I guess there’s some subtle poison in that glass that isn’t going to work for a while,’ he said. ‘Our friend has gone to try an antidote!’

  He took a self-filling fountain pen from his pocket and crossing to a large aspidistra that stood near the window, he emptied out the ink, cleansed it from a sarai of water that stood outside on the veranda and, returning to the table, refilled the pen from the cocktail which had caused Rahtz to behave in such an extraordinary manner.

  ‘I’ll take this right along and have it analysed,’ he said.

  For five minutes they waited for the Russian’s return, then a bearer entered.

  ‘Sahib salaam do!’ he said. ‘Too seeck, not coming, very sorry!’

  ‘By which I guess you mean that he sends his salaams and asks us to excuse him because h
e’s sick?’ said Miles.

  The man nodded.

  ‘Very well,’ went on the American. ‘Tell him we are very sorry he is ill, and hope he’ll soon be better!’

  The bearer bowed and departed, and Miles picked up his topee.

  ‘Come along, Hugh!’ he said.

  They crossed over to the college courtyard, where they had left the car. As they were about to get in, Hugh held out his hand.

  ‘I owe my life to you,’ he remarked.

  ‘Shucks!’ said the American. ‘Get in, and don’t be such a darn fool!’

  ‘What made you suspect that Rahtz would put poison in my glass?’ Shannon asked on the way back.

  ‘I didn’t like his anxiety to get us to have a drink,’ was the reply. ‘But I only told you to change the glasses as a precautionary measure. Naturally the telephone message was a fake.’ He laughed. ‘I guess Holden, whom I rang up, was a mighty surprised man!’

  ‘But what about your cocktail? Perhaps that was poisoned also!’

  Miles shook his head.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘He wouldn’t want to get innocent me out of the way. Still I didn’t drink it, to make sure.’

  ‘He must have been jolly desperate to do such a risky thing,’ said Hugh reflectively.

  ‘I reckon the poison, whatever it is, wouldn’t have worked for hours, so that he couldn’t be suspected. I’m mighty curious to find out exactly what he did put in that cocktail. He got the fright of his life, when he discovered that he had drunk some of it. I wish I had let him drink the lot, but I wanted to see if there was anything in my suspicion.’ He chuckled, and added, ‘There sure was!’

  ‘Of course he’ll know now that we are aware of his connection with Kamper and company,’ said Hugh. ‘He’s hardly likely to be such a fool as to think that the changing of the drinks was a sheer accident.’

  ‘I guess not,’ said Miles. ‘And he’ll know I’m interested in the game, too; still it can’t be helped.’

  ‘Perhaps he’ll die!’

  Miles shook his head.

  ‘He’ll get mighty busy with antidotes right away, and prevent that,’ he said. ‘All the same I hope he has a bad time before he recovers – the devil!’

  ‘Well what impression did you from of the College?’ asked Hugh, after a pause. ‘Where do you think the meeting will be held?’

  ‘In the room on the first floor just over the laboratory,’ replied Miles promptly, ‘where Rahtz told us board meetings are held.’

  ‘I agree with you. It’s an ideal place for the purpose. There’s only a narrow corridor leading to it, which can be guarded easily, and it is absolutely isolated. I thought as soon as I saw it, that they couldn’t have found a better place in Lahore. And did you notice that under the roof of the passage there is a row of beams quite close together?’

  ‘Sure!’

  ‘Well if we could only manage to get on them somehow, we could look right into the room and hear what is said, for there is a fanlight over the door.’

  ‘That’s a great idea,’ nodded Miles. ‘Let us hope that they will meet there!’

  A few minutes later they reached the bungalow, and found Joan awaiting them on the veranda. They had decided to say nothing to her of Hugh’s narrow escape, therefore they greeted her with cheerful smiles as she ran down the drive to meet them.

  ‘I’m so glad you’ve come,’ she said. ‘I’ve been feeling so anxious – I don’t know why. Silly of me, wasn’t it?’

  ‘We’ve been having a dandy time,’ said Miles. ‘What you might call a cocktail time!’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Shannon Makes a Call

  A few mornings after Hugh’s narrow escape, he came in to breakfast looking particularly thoughtful. Miles was already half way through his meal and he also looked grave, but it was from a different cause.

  ‘Look here!’ began the former. ‘I’ve been thinking that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to call on Hudson, and accuse him of being behind Miss Gregson in that affair. What do you think?’

  ‘No harm in it as far as I can see,’ replied Miles. ‘You had a row with him on boardship and afterwards saw him with Olive, which is quite good enough reason for you to suspect him. But what’s the big idea?’

  ‘Well, I thought that perhaps I might frighten him into making some disclosure!’

  ‘What disclosure can he make?’

  ‘I’d like to find out what connection he has with Novar and Rahtz.’

  ‘I don’t think you’ll get anything out of him about that. Why, man, it would be tantamount to imprisoning himself for life, and I don’t think anything you can say to him will so frighten him as to make him give himself away to that extent.’

  ‘Still I think I’ll have a talk with him!’

  ‘Sure! Have you heard the latest?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Rahtz is seriously ill, but is expected to recover. A rather complicated attack of enteric is suspected, but he seems to have got over the worst!’

  He handed Hugh a newspaper.

  ‘Yesterday’s,’ he said ‘but it is a small paragraph tucked away in a corner and none of us noticed it.’

  Hugh read the few lines and handed the paper back.

  ‘Enteric!’ he exclaimed. ‘How on earth—’

  Miles smiled a trifle grimly.

  ‘I guess he dosed himself so much that when the doctors examined him they mistook his condition for enteric,’ he said. ‘As a matter of fact it is, or rather was, cholera!’

  ‘Good Lord! How do you know?’

  ‘Read that! I received it by this morning’s post!’

  Hugh took the letter the American held out to him. It was from a well-known medical man in Lahore.

  ‘“Dear Miles”’ – he read,

  In accordance with your request I have analysed the contents of your fountain pen, and find strong evidence of cholera bacilli. Perhaps when you come to get the pen, which I have cleansed and sterilised by the way, you will tell me how such dangerous germs got there.

  Hugh handed the letter back, and his face had paled.

  ‘The fiend!’ he said. ‘The utter fiend!’

  ‘Well, he’s been hoist with his own petard,’ said Miles. ‘I’m beginning to think that it’s time we came out into the open a bit,’ he went on. ‘He is bound to suspect now that you know more about him than he thought, and I’ve no doubt he has even formed certain suspicions of me. Therefore, if you were considered dangerous enough to be exterminated before, you – and I, too, in all probability – will be in continual danger henceforth. Anyhow, there can’t be any harm in our calling on him, and asking what he meant by attempting to give you cholera.’

  ‘Right!’ agreed Hugh. ‘As soon as he is well enough to see us, we’ll go and interview him. In the meantime I’ll have the chat I promised myself with Hudson.’

  ‘And I guess Jerry had better confine his attentions to Novar; what do you say?’

  Hugh nodded, and just then Joan made her appearance.

  House examinations commenced in the College that day, and Hugh found his morning engaged in superintending the students, while they tussled with questions which most of them could not answer. Those who could, wrote page after page on each question, and when he came to examine his papers later on, he almost went crazy with the awful repetition with which he had to contend. It was a very boring business watching them write, relieved occasionally by his catching some of them attempting to use unfair means. These he sent marching, followed by reports to the Principal anent their misdeeds. At last one o’clock came and he watched the papers being collected with a sigh of relief. Before he could leave the College, however, he was met by three of the wrongdoers who, with hands joined in supplication, entreated him to spare them the shame of being reported for cheating, and promising to pray for his long life and happiness if he were merciful to them.

  ‘My report has already gone to the Principal,’ he said curtly. ‘You had better go and say your prayers to him.’<
br />
  Other students of his own class surrounded him, and asked him quite openly to be kind to them, when he examined their papers. They mentioned their roll numbers in the fond belief that he would remember them, and give them extra marks. A few, indeed, even wrote their numbers down on scraps of paper, and tried to get him to accept them, while one actually announced how many marks he desired. Altogether Hugh was nauseated by their unprincipled behaviour, and his reply, in every case, was short, sharp, and very much to the point, while he threatened to give no marks at all to those who had badgered him.

  He left the College that morning with a new insight into the character of the Indian student, and he was doomed to get an even greater understanding of it. During the days on which he was engaged in examining the papers, his bungalow was besieged by students requesting to see him on some plea or other, and they brought baskets of fruit and various other gifts with them. Always before they left, they asked for a concession in his marking of their particular papers. Some fellows brought relations to plead for them, and, in one or two cases, even attempted to bribe him in some subtle manner. To all his reply was more forcible than polite and entirely decisive, and during that examination time he lost a great deal of the popularity which had enshrouded him before. He became so thoroughly disgusted, that he longed to be relieved of his duties at the College, and confided to Joan and his companions that he could not understand how English professors lasted for so long in a country of such corrupt ideas, and, in fact, appeared to be quite happy in their work. Joan and Miles merely laughed at his disgust. Cousins found appropriate quotations with which to soothe him, but they quite failed to have any effect.

  It was in no very good humour, therefore, that he sat down to tiffin, on the first day of the examination, and as he had decided to call on Hudson that very afternoon, Miles remarked that the signs boded ill for the civil servant. However, Shannon was a very good-tempered fellow really, and after he had eaten heartily and been in the company of Joan and Miles for some time, he began to recover his spirits and with them, see the humorous side of Indian College life.