Bulldog Drummond
Page 8
‘Yes, James,’ he remarked. ‘I think we are at home. I want you to remain within call, and under no circumstances let our sick visitor out of your sight for more than a minute. In fact, I think you’d better sit in his room.’
He resumed his study of the paper, and James, with a curt ‘Very good, sir,’ left the room. Almost at once he returned, and flinging open the door announced Mr Peterson.
Drummond looked up quickly and rose with a smile.
‘Good morning,’ he cried. ‘This is a very pleasant surprise, Mr Peterson.’ He waved his visitor to a chair. ‘Hope you’ve had no more trouble with your car.’
Mr Peterson drew off his gloves, smiling amiably. ‘None at all, thank you, Captain Drummond. The chauffeur appears to have mastered the defect.’
‘It was your eye on him that did it. Wonderful thing – the human optic, as I said to your friend, Mr – Mr Laking. I hope that he’s quite well and taking nourishment.’
‘Soft food only,’ said the other genially. ‘Mr Lakington had a most unpleasant accident last night – most unpleasant.’
Hugh’s face expressed his sympathy. ‘How very unfortunate!’ he murmured. ‘I trust nothing serious.’
‘I fear his lower jaw was fractured in two places.’ Peterson helped himself to a cigarette from the box beside him. ‘The man who hit him must have been a boxer.’
‘Mixed up in a brawl, was he?’ said Drummond, shaking his head. ‘I should never have thought, from what little I’ve seen of Mr Lakington, that he went in for painting the town red. I’d have put him down as a most abstemious man – but one never can tell, can one? I once knew a fellah who used to get fighting drunk on three whiskies, and to look at him you’d have put him down as a Methodist parson. Wonderful the amount of cheap fun that chap got out of life.’
Peterson flicked the ash from his cigarette into the grate. ‘Shall we come to the point, Captain Drummond?’ he remarked affably.
Hugh looked bewildered. ‘The point, Mr Peterson? Er – by all manner of means.’
Peterson smiled even more affably. ‘I felt certain that you were a young man of discernment,’ he remarked, ‘and I wouldn’t like to keep you from your paper a minute longer than necessary.’
‘Not a bit,’ cried Hugh. ‘My time is yours – though I’d very much like to know your real opinion of The Juggernaut for the Chester Cup. It seems to me that he cannot afford to give Sumatra seven pounds on their form up to date.’
‘Are you interested in gambling?’ asked Peterson politely.
‘A mild flutter, Mr Peterson, every now and then,’ returned Drummond. ‘Strictly limited stakes.’
‘If you confine yourself to that you will come to no harm,’ said Peterson. ‘It is when the stakes become unlimited that the danger of a crash becomes unlimited too.’
‘That is what my mother always told me,’ remarked Hugh. ‘She even went farther, dear good woman that she was. “Never bet except on a certainty, my boy,” was her constant advice, “and then put your shirt on!” I can hear her saying it now, Mr Peterson, with the golden rays of the setting sun lighting up her sweet face.’
Suddenly Peterson leant forward in his chair. ‘Young man,’ he remarked, ‘we’ve got to understand one another. Last night you butted in on my plans, and I do not like people who do that. By an act which, I must admit, appealed to me greatly, you removed something I require – something, moreover, which I intend to have. Breaking the electric bulb with a revolver shot shows resource and initiative. The blow which smashed Henry Lakington’s jaw in two places shows strength. All qualities which I admire, Captain Drummond – admire greatly. I should dislike having to deprive the world of those qualities.’
Drummond gazed at the speaker open-mouthed. ‘My dear sir,’ he protested feebly, ‘you overwhelm me. Are you really accusing me of being a sort of wild west show?’ He waggled a finger at Peterson. ‘You know you’ve been to the movies too much, like my fellah, James. He’s got revolvers and things on the brain.’
Peterson’s face was absolutely impassive; save for a slightly tired smile it was expressionless. ‘Finally, Captain Drummond, you tore in half a piece of paper which I require – and removed a very dear old friend of my family, who is now in this house. I want them both back, please, and if you like I’ll take them now.’
Drummond shrugged his shoulders resignedly. ‘There is something about you, Mr Peterson,’ he murmured, ‘which I like. You strike me as being the type of man to whom a young girl would turn and pour out her maidenly secrets. So masterful, so compelling, so unruffled. I feel sure – when you have finally disabused your mind of this absurd hallucination – that we shall become real friends.’
Peterson still sat motionless save for a ceaseless tapping with his hand on his knee.
‘Tell me,’ continued Hugh, ‘why did you allow this scoundrel to treat you in such an off-hand manner? It doesn’t seem to me to be the sort of thing that ought to happen at all, and I suggest your going to the police at once.’
‘Unfortunately a bullet intended for him just missed,’ answered Peterson casually. ‘A pity – because there would have been no trace of him by now.’
‘Might be awkward for you,’ murmured Hugh. ‘Such methods, Mr Peterson, are illegal, you know. It’s a dangerous thing to take the law into your own hands. May I offer you a drink?’
Peterson declined courteously. ‘Thank you – not at this hour.’ Then he rose. ‘I take it, then, that you will not return me my property here and now.’
‘Still the same delusion, I see!’ remarked Hugh with a smile.
‘Still the same delusion,’ repeated Peterson. ‘I shall be ready to receive both the paper and the man up till six o’clock tonight at 32A, Berners Street; and it is possible, I might even say probable, should they turn up by then, that I shall not find it necessary to kill you.’
Hugh grinned. ‘Your forbearance amazes me,’ he cried. ‘Won’t you really change your mind and have a drink?’
‘Should they not arrive by then, I shall be put to the inconvenience of taking them, and in that case – much as I regret it – you may have to be killed. You’re such an aggressive young man, Captain Drummond – and, I fear, not very tactful.’ He spoke regretfully, drawing on his gloves; then as he got to the door he paused. ‘I’m afraid that my words will not have much effect,’ he remarked, ‘but the episode last night did appeal to me. I would like to spare you – I would really. It’s a sign of weakness, my young friend, which I view with amazement – but nevertheless, it is there. So be warned in time. Return my property to Berners Street, and leave England for a few months.’ His eyes seemed to burn into the soldier’s brain. ‘You are meddling in affairs,’ he went on gently, ‘of the danger of which you have no conception. A fly in the gearbox of a motor car would be a sounder proposition for a life insurance than you will be – if you continue on your present course.’
There was something so incredibly menacing in the soft, quiet voice, that Drummond looked at the speaker fascinated. He had a sudden feeling that he must be dreaming – that in a moment or two he would wake up and find that they had really been talking about the weather the whole time. Then the cynical gleam of triumph in Peterson’s eyes acted on him like a cold douche; quite clearly that gentleman had misinterpreted his silence.
‘Your candour is as refreshing,’ he answered genially, ‘as your similes are apt. I shudder to think of that poor little fly, Mr Peterson, especially with your chauffeur grinding his gears to pieces.’ He held open the door for his visitor, and followed him into the passage. At the other end stood Denny, ostentatiously dusting a bookshelf, and Peterson glanced at him casually. It was characteristic of the man that no trace of annoyance showed on his face. He might have been any ordinary visitor taking his leave.
And then suddenly from the room outside which Denny was dusting there came a low moaning and an incoherent babble. A quick frown passed over Drummond’s face, and Peterson regarded him thoughtfully.
‘An invalid in the house?’ he remarked. ‘How inconvenient for you!’ He laid his hand for a moment on the soldier’s arm. ‘I sadly fear you’re going to make a fool of yourself. And it will be such a pity.’ He turned towards the stairs. ‘Don’t bother, please; I can find my own way out.’
III
Hugh turned back into his own room, and lighting a particularly noisy pipe, sat down in his own special chair, where James Denny found him five minutes later, with his hands deep in his pockets, and his legs crossed, staring out of the window. He asked him about lunch twice without result, and having finally been requested to go to hell, he removed himself aggrievedly to the kitchen. Drummond was under no delusions as to the risks he was running. Underrating his opponent had never been a fault of his, either in the ring or in France, and he had no intention of beginning now. The man who could abduct an American millionaire, and drug him till he was little better than a baby, and then use a thumbscrew to enforce his wishes, was not likely to prove over-scrupulous in the future. In fact, the phut of that bullet still rang unpleasantly in his ears.
After a while he began half unconsciously to talk aloud to himself. It was an old trick of his when he wanted to make up his mind on a situation, and he found that it helped him to concentrate his thoughts.
‘Two alternatives, old buck,’ he remarked, stabbing the air with his pipe. ‘One – give the Potts bird up at Berners Street; two – do not. Number one – out of court at once. Preposterous – absurd. Therefore – number two holds the field.’ He recrossed his legs, and ejected a large wineglassful of nicotine juice from the stem of his pipe on to the carpet. Then he sank back exhausted, and rang the bell.
‘James,’ he said, as the door opened, ‘take a piece of paper and a pencil – if there’s one with a point – and sit down at the table. I’m going to think, and I’d hate to miss out anything.’
His servant complied, and for a while silence reigned.
‘First,’ remarked Drummond, ‘put down – “They know where Potts is.” ’
‘Is, sir, or are?’ murmured Denny, sucking his pencil.
‘Is, you fool. It’s a man, not a collection. And don’t interrupt, for Heaven’s sake. Two – “They will try to get Potts.” ’
‘Yes, sir,’ answered Denny, writing busily.
‘Three – “They will not get Potts.” That is as far as I’ve got at the moment, James – but every word of it stands. Not bad for a quarter of an hour, my trusty fellah – what?’
‘That’s the stuff to give the troops, sir,’ agreed his audience, sucking his teeth.
Hugh looked at him in displeasure. ‘That noise is not, James,’ he remarked severely. ‘Now you’ve got to do something else. Rise and with your well-known stealth approach the window, and see if the watcher still watcheth without.’
The servant took a prolonged survey, and finally announced that he failed to see him.
‘Then that proves conclusively that he’s there,’ said Hugh. ‘Write it down, James: four – “Owing to the watcher without, Potts cannot leave the house without being seen.” ’
‘That’s two withouts, sir,’ ventured James tentatively; but Hugh, with a sudden light dawning in his eyes, was staring at the fireplace.
‘I’ve got it, James,’ he cried. ‘I’ve got it… Five – “Potts must leave the house without being seen.” I want him, James, I want him all to myself. I want to make much of him and listen to his childish prattle. He shall go to my cottage on the river, and you shall look after him.’
‘Yes, sir,’ returned James dutifully.
‘And in order to get him there, we must get rid of the watcher without. How can we get rid of the bird – how can we, James, I ask you? Why, by giving him nothing further to watch for. Once let him think that Potts is no longer within, unless he’s an imbecile he will no longer remain without.’
‘I see, sir,’ said James.
‘No, you don’t – you don’t see anything. Now trot along over, James, and give my compliments to Mr Darrell. Ask him to come in and see me for a moment. Say I’m thinking and daren’t move.’
James rose obediently, and Drummond heard him cross over the passage to the other suite of rooms that lay on the same floor. Then he heard the murmur of voices, and shortly afterwards his servant returned.
‘He is in his bath, sir, but he’ll come over as soon as he’s finished.’ He delivered the message and stood waiting. ‘Anything more, sir?’
‘Yes, James. I feel certain that there’s a lot. But just to carry on with, I’ll have another glass of beer.’
As the door closed, Drummond rose and started to pace up and down the room. The plan he had in mind was simple, but he was a man who believed in simplicity.
‘Peterson will not come himself – nor will our one and only Henry. Potts has not been long in the country, which is all to the good. And if it fails – we shan’t be any worse off than we are now. Luck – that’s all; and the more you tempt her, the kinder he is.’ He was still talking gently to himself when Peter Darrell strolled into the room.
‘Can this thing be true, old boy,’ remarked the newcomer. ‘I hear you’re in the throes of a brainstorm.’
‘I am, Peter – and not even that repulsive dressing gown of yours can stop it. I want you to help me.’
‘All that I have, dear old flick, is yours for the asking. What can I do?’
‘Well, first of all, I want you to come along and see the household pet.’ He piloted Darrell along the passage to the American’s room, and opened the door. The millionaire looked at them dazedly from the pillows, and Darrell stared back in startled surprise.
‘My God! What’s the matter with him?’ he cried.
‘I would give a good deal to know,’ said Hugh grimly. Then he smiled reassuringly at the motionless man, and led the way back to the sitting-room.
‘Sit down, Peter,’ he said. ‘Get outside that beer and listen to me carefully.’
For ten minutes he spoke, while his companion listened in silence. Gone completely was the rather vacuous-faced youth clad in a gorgeous dressing-gown; in his place there sat a keen-faced man nodding from time to time as a fresh point was made clear. Even so had both listened in the years that were past to their battalion commander’s orders before an attack.
At length Hugh finished. ‘Will you do it, old man?’ he asked.
‘Of course,’ returned the other. ‘But wouldn’t it be better, Hugh,’ he said pleadingly, ‘to whip up two or three of the boys and have a real scrap? I don’t seem to have anything to do.’
Drummond shook his head decidedly. ‘No, Peter, my boy – not this show. We’re up against a big thing; and if you like to come in with me, I think you’ll have all you want in the scrapping line before you’ve finished. But this time, low cunning is the order.’
Darrell rose. ‘Right you are, dearie. Your instructions shall be carried out to the letter. Come and feed your face with me. Got a couple of birds from the Gaiety lunching at the Cri.’
‘Not today,’ said Hugh. ‘I’ve got quite a bit to get through this afternoon.’
As soon as Darrell had gone, Drummond again rang the bell for his servant.
‘This afternoon, James, you and Mrs Denny will leave here and go to Paddington. Go out by the front door, and should you find yourselves being followed – as you probably will be – consume a jujube and keep your heads. Having arrived at the booking office – take a ticket to Cheltenham, say goodbye to Mrs Denny in an impassioned tone, and exhort her not to miss the next train to that delectable inland resort. You might even speak slightingly about her sick aunt at Westbourne Grove, who alone prevents your admirable wife from accompanying you. Then, James, you will board the train for Cheltenham and go there. You will remain there for two days, during which period you must remember that you’re a married man – even if you do go to the movies. You will then return here, and await further orders. Do you get me?’
‘Yes, sir.’ James stood to attention with a smart heel-clic
k.
‘Your wife – she has a sister or something, hasn’t she, knocking about somewhere?’
‘She ’as a palsied cousin in Camberwell, sir,’ remarked James with justifiable pride.
‘Magnificent,’ murmured Hugh. ‘She will dally until eventide with her palsied cousin – if she can bear it – and then she must go by Underground to Ealing, where she will take a ticket to Goring. I don’t think there will be any chance of her being followed – you’ll have drawn them off. When she gets to Goring I want the cottage got ready at once, for two visitors.’ He paused and lit a cigarette. ‘Above all, James – mum’s the word. As I told you a little while ago, the game has begun. Now just repeat what I’ve told you.’
He listened while his servant ran through his instructions, and nodded approvingly. ‘To think there are still people who think military service a waste of time!’ he murmured. ‘Four years ago you couldn’t have got one word of it right.’
He dismissed Denny, and sat down at his desk. First he took the half-torn sheet out of his pocket, and putting it in an envelope, sealed it carefully. Then he placed it in another envelope, with a covering letter to his bank, requesting them to keep the enclosure intact.
Then he took a sheet of notepaper, and with much deliberation proceeded to pen a document which accorded him considerable amusement, judging by the grin which appeared from time to time on his face. This effusion he also enclosed in a sealed envelope, which he again addressed to his bank. Finally, he stamped the first, but not the second – and placed them both in his pocket.
For the next two hours he apparently found nothing better to do than eat a perfectly grilled chop prepared by Mrs Denny, and superintend his visitor unwillingly consuming a sago pudding. Then, with the departure of the Dennys for Paddington, which coincided most aptly with the return of Peter Darrell, a period of activity commenced in Half Moon Street. But being interior activity, interfering in no way with the placid warmth of the street outside, the gentleman without, whom a keen observer might have thought strangely interested in the beauties of that well-known thoroughfare – seeing that he had been there for three hours – remained serenely unconscious of it. His pal had followed the Dennys to Paddington. Drummond had not come out – and the watcher who watched without was beginning to get bored.