Elk 01 The Fellowship of the Frog

by Edgar Wallace

  “Well, I’m damned!” said Elk, who very infrequently indulged in profanity, but Dick felt that on this occasion at least he was justified. For the man in the limousine was the bearded Ezra Maitland; and he knew that it was to see Maitland that the girl had gone to Elsham Wood.

  XX - HAGN

  A minute later Ella came to the door to call them. “Was that a car went past?” she asked, and they detected a note of anxiety in her tone.

  “Yes,” said Elk, “it was a big car. Didn’t see who was in it, but it was a big car.”

  Dick heard her sigh of relief.

  “Will you come in, please?” she said. “Breakfast is waiting for you.”

  They left half an hour later, and each man was so busy with his own thoughts that Dick did not speak until they were passing the villas where the body of Genter had been found. It was near Horsham that Genter was killed, the remembered with a little shudder. Outside of Horsham he himself had seen the dead man’s feet extended beyond the back of a motor-van. Hagn should die for that; whether he was Frog or not, he was party to that murder. As if reading his thoughts, Elk turned to him and said:

  “Do you think your evidence is strong enough to hang Hagn?”

  “I was wondering,” said Dick. “There is no supporting evidence, unfortunately, but the car which you have under lock and key, and the fact that the garage keeper may be able to identify him.”

  “With his beard?” asked Elk significantly. “There is going to be some difficulty in securing a conviction against this frog, believe me, Captain Gordon. And unless old Balder induces him to make a statement, we shall have all the difficulty in the world in convincing a jury. Personally,” he added, “if I was condemned to spend a night with Balder, I should tell the truth, if it was only to get rid of him. He’s a pretty clever fellow, is Balder. People don’t realize that—he has the makings of a first-class detective, if we could only get him to take a happier view of life.”

  He directed the driver to go straight to the door of Cannon Row.

  Dick’s mind was on another matter.

  “What did she want with Maitland?” he asked. Elk shook his head.

  “I don’t know,” he confessed. “Of course, she might have been persuading him to take back her brother, but old Maitland isn’t the kind of adventurer who’d get up in the middle of the night to discuss giving Ray Bennett his job back. If he was a younger man, yes. But he’s not young. He’s darned old. And he’s a wicked old man, who doesn’t care two cents whether Ray Bennett is working at his desk for so much per, or whether he’s breaking stones on Dartmoor. I tell you, that’s one of the minor mysteries which will be cleared up when we get the Frog piece in its place.”

  The car stopped at the entrance of Cannon Row police station, and the men jumped down. The desk sergeant stood up as they came in, and eyed them wonderingly.

  “I’m going to take Balder out, sergeant.”

  “Balder?” said the man in surprise. “I didn’t know Balder was in.”

  “I put him in with Hagn.”

  A light dawned upon the station official.

  “That’s queer. I didn’t know it was Balder,” he said. “I wasn’t on duty when he came in, but the other sergeant told me that a man had been put in with Hagn. Here is the gaoler.”

  That official came in at that moment, and was as astonished as the sergeant to learn the identity of the second prisoner.

  “I had no idea it was Balder, sir,” he said. “That accounts for the long talk they had—they were talking up till one o’clock.”

  “Are they still talking?” asked Elk.

  “No, sir, they’re sleeping now. I had a look at them a little time ago—you remember you gave me orders to leave them alone and not to go near them.”

  Dick Gordon and his subordinate followed the gaoler down a long passage faced with glazed brick, the wall of which was studded at intervals by narrow black doors. Reaching the end of the corridor, they turned at right angles. The second passage had only one door, and that was at the end. Snapping back the lock, the gaoler threw open the door, and Elk went in.

  Elk went to the first of the figures and pulled aside the blanket which covered the face. Then, with an oath, he drew the blanket clear.

  It was Balder, and he was lying on his back, covered from head to foot with a blanket. A silk scarf was twisted round his mouth; his wrists were not only handcuffed but strapped, as were his legs.

  Elk dashed at the second figure, but as he touched the blanket, it sank under his hands. A folded coat, to give resemblance to a human figure, a pair of battered shoes, placed artificially at the end of the blanket—these were all. Hagn had disappeared!

  When they got the man into Elk’s office, and had given him brandy, and Elk, by sheer bullying, had reduced him to coherence, Balder told his story.

  “I think it was round about two o’clock when it happened,” he said. “I’d been talking all the evening to this Hagn, though it was very clear to me, with my experience, that he spotted me the moment I came in, as a police officer, and was kidding me along all the evening. Still, I persevered, Mr. Elk. I’m the sort o man that never says die. That’s the peculiar thing about me—”

  “The peculiar thing about you,” said Elk wearily, “is your passionate admiration of Balder. Get on!”

  “Anyway, I did try,” said Balder in an injured voice; “and I thought I’d got over his suspicion, because he began talking about Frogs, and telling me that there was going to be a wireless call to all the heads to-night—that is, last night. He told me that Number Seven would never be captured, because he was too clever. He asked me how Mills had been killed, but I’m perfectly sure, the way he put the question, that he knew. We didn’t talk very much after one, and at a quarter past one I lay down, and I must have gone to sleep almost at once. The first thing I knew was that they were putting a gag in my mouth. I tried to struggle, but they held me—”

  “They?” said Elk. “How many were there?”

  “There may have been two or three—I’m not certain,” said Balder. “If it had been only two, I think I could have managed, for I am naturally strong. There must have been more. I only saw two besides Hagn.”

  “Was the cell door open?”

  “Yes, sir, it was ajar,” said Balder after he had considered a moment.

  “What did they look like?”

  “They were wearing long black overcoats, but they made no attempt to hide their faces. I should know them anywhere. They were young men—at least, one was. What happened after that I don’t know. They put a strap round my legs, pulled the blanket over me, and that’s all I saw or heard until the cell door closed. I have been lying there all night, sir, thinking of my wife and children…”

  Elk cut him short, and, leaving the man in charge of another police clerk, he went across to make a more careful examination of the cell. The two passages were shaped like a capital L, the special cell being at the end of the shorter branch. At the elbow was a barred door leading into the courtyard, where men waiting trial were loaded into the prison van and distributed to various places of detention. The warder sat at the top of the L, in a small glass-panelled cubby-hole, where the cell indicators were. Each cell was equipped with a bell-push in case of illness, and the signals showed in this tiny office. From where he sat, the warder commanded, not only a view of the passage, but a side view of the door. Questioned, he admitted that he had been twice into the charge room for a few minutes at a time; once when a man arrested for drunkenness had demanded to see a doctor, and another time, about half-past two in the morning, to take over a burglar who had been captured in the course of the night.

  “And, of course, it was during that time that the men got away,” said Elk.

  The door into the courtyard was locked but not bolted. It could be opened from either side. The cell door could also open from both sides. In this respect it differed from every other cell in the station; but the explanation was that it was frequently used for important
prisoners, whom it was necessary to subject to lengthy interrogations; and the lock had been chosen to give the police officers who were inside an opportunity of leaving the cell when they desired, without calling for the gaoler. The lock had not been picked, neither had the lock of the yard door.

  Elk sent immediately for the policemen who were on duty at either entrance of Scotland Yard. The officer who was on guard at the Embankment entrance had seen nobody. The Irian at the Whitehall opening remembered seeing an inspector of police pass out at half-past two. He was perfectly sure the officer was an inspector, because he wore the hanging sword-belt, and the policeman had seen the star on his shoulder and had saluted him—a salute which the officer had returned.

  “This may or may not be one of them,” said Elk. “If it is, what happened to the other two?”

  But here evidence failed. The men had disappeared as though they had dissipated into air.

  “We’re going to get a roasting for this, Captain Gordon,” said Elk; “and if we escape without being scorched, we’re lucky. Fortunately, nobody but ourselves knows that Hagn has been arrested; and when I say ‘ourselves,’ I wish I meant it! You had better go home and go to bed; I had some sleep in the night. If you’ll wait while I send this bleating clerk of mine home to his well-advertised wife and family, I’ll walk home with you.”

  Dick was waiting on the edge of Whitehall when Elk joined him.

  “There will be a departmental inquiry, of course. We can’t help that,” he said. “The only thing that worries me is that I’ve got poor old Balder into bad odour, and I was trying to put him right. I don’t know what the experience of the Boy Scouts is,” he went off at a tangent, “but my own is that the worst service you can render to any man is to try to do him a good turn.”

  It was now nearly ten o’clock, and Dick was feeling faint with hunger and lack of sleep, for he had eaten nothing at Horsham. Once or twice, as they walked toward Harley Terrace, Elk looked back over his shoulder.

  “Expecting anybody?” asked Dick, suddenly alive to the possibility of danger.

  “No-o, not exactly,” said Elk. “But I’ve got a hunch that we’re being followed.”

  “I saw a man just now who I thought was following us,” said Dick, “a man in a fawn raincoat.”

  “Oh, him?” said Elk, indifferent alike to the rules of grammar and the presence of his shadow. “That is one of my men. There’s another on the other side of the road. I’m not thinking of them, my mind for the moment being fixed on Frogs. Do you mind if we cross the road?” he asked hurriedly, and, without waiting for a reply, caught Gordon’s arm and led him across the broad thoroughfare. “I always object to walking on the same side of a street as the traffic runs. I like to meet traffic; it’s not good to be overtaken. I thought so!”

  A small Ford van, painted with the name of a laundry, which had been crawling along behind them, suddenly spurted and went ahead at top speed. Elk followed the car with his eyes until it reached the Trafalgar Square end of Whitehall. Instead of branching left toward Pall Mall or right to the Strand, the van swung round in a half-circle and came back to meet them. Elk half turned and made a signal.

  “This is where we follow the example of the chicken,” said Elk, and made another hurried crossing.

  When they reached the pavement he looked round. The detectives who were following him had understood his signal, and one had leaped on the running-board of the van, which was pulled up to the pavement. There was a few minutes’ talk between the driver and the officer, and then they all drove off together.

  “Pinched,” said Elk laconically. “He’ll take him to the station on some charge or other and hold him. I guessed he’d see what I was after—my man, I mean. The easiest way to shadow is to shadow in a trade truck,” said Elk. “A trade van can do anything it likes; it can loiter by the pavement, it can turn round and go back, it can go fast or slow, and nobody takes the slightest notice. If that had been a limousine, it would have attracted the attention of every policeman by drawling along by the pavement, so as to over take us just at the right minute. Probably it wasn’t any more than a shadow, but to me,” he said with a quiver of his shoulder, “it felt rather like sudden death!”

  Whether Elk’s cheerfulness was assumed or natural, he succeeded in impressing his companion.

  “Let’s take a cab,” said Dick, and such was his doubt that he waited for three empty taxis to pass before he hailed the fourth. “Come in,” said Dick when the cab dropped them at Harley Terrace. “I’ve got a spare room if you want to sleep.”

  Elk shook his head to the latter suggestion, but accompanied Gordon into the house. The man who opened the door had evidently something to say.

  “There’s a gentleman waiting to see you, sir. He’s been here for half an hour.”

  “What is his name?”

  “Mr. Johnson, sir.”

  “Johnson?” said Dick in surprise, and hurried to the dining-room, into which the visitor had been ushered.

  It was, indeed, “the philosopher,” though Mr. Johnson lacked for the moment evidence of that equilibrium which is the chiefest of his possessions. The stout man was worried; his face was unusually long; and when Dick went into the room, he was sitting uncomfortably on the edge of a chair, as he had seen him sitting at Heron’s Club, his gloomy eyes fixed upon the carpet.

  “I hope you’ll forgive me for coming to see you, Captain Gordon,” he said. “I’ve really no right to bring my troubles to you.”

  “I hope your troubles aren’t as pressing as mine,” smiled Dick as he shook hands. “You know Mr. Elk?”

  “Mr. Elk is an old friend,” said Johnson, almost cheerful for a second.

  “Well, what is your kick?—sit down, won’t you?” ‘aid Dick. “I’m going to have a real breakfast. Will you join me?”

  “With pleasure, sir. I’ve eaten nothing this morning. I usually have a little lunch about eleven, but I can’t say that I feel very hungry. The fact is, Captain Gordon, I’m fired.”

  Dick raised his eyebrows.

  “What—has Maitland fired you?”

  Johnson nodded.

  “And to think that I’ve served the old devil all these years faithfully, on a clerk’s salary! I’ve never given him any cause for complaint, I’ve handled hundreds of thousands—yes, and millions! And although it’s not for me to blow my own trumpet, I’ve never once been a penny out in my accounts. Of course, if I had been, he would have found it out in less than no time, for he is the greatest mathematician I’ve ever met. And as sharp as a needle! He can write twice as fast as any other man I’ve known,” he added with reluctant admiration.

  “It’s rather curious that a man of his uncouth appearance and speech should have those attainments,” said Dick.

  “It’s a wonder to me,” confessed Johnson. “In fact, it has been a standing wonder to me ever since I’ve known him. You’d think he was a dustman or a tramp, to hear him talk, yet he’s a very well-read man, of extraordinary educational qualities.”

  “Can he remember dates?” asked Elk.

  “He can even remember dates,” replied Johnson seriously. “A queer old man, and in many ways an unpleasant old man. I’m not saying this because he’s fired me; I’ve always had the same view. He’s without a single spark of kindness; I think the only human thing about him is his love for this little boy.”

  “What little boy?” asked Elk, immediately interested.

  “I’ve never seen him,” said Johnson. “The child has never been brought to the office. I don’t know who he is or whose he is; I’ve an idea he’s a grandchild of Maitland’s.”

  There was a pause.

  “I see,” said Dick softly, and well he did see, for in that second began his understanding of the Frog and the secret of the Frog.

  “Why were you fired?” he asked.

  Johnson shrugged his shoulders.

  “Over a stupid thing; in fact, it’s hardly worth talking about. It appears the old man saw me at Heron’s C
lub the other night, and ever since then he’s been going carefully into my petty cash account, probably under the impression that I was living a fast life! Beyond the usual grousing, there was nothing in his manner to suggest that he intended getting rid of me; but this morning, when I came, I found that he had already arrived, which was an unusual circumstance. He doesn’t as a rule get to the office until about an hour after we start work. ‘Johnson,’ he said, ‘I understand that you know a Miss Ella Bennett.‘I replied that I was fortunate enough to know the lady. ‘And I understand,’ he went on, ‘that you’ve been down there to lunch on one or two occasions.’ ‘That is perfectly true, Mr. Maitland,’ I replied. ‘Very well, Johnson,’ said Maitland, ‘you’re fired.’”

  “And that was all?” asked Dick in amazement.

  “That was all,” said Johnson in a hushed voice. “Can you understand it?”

  Dick could have said yes, but he did not. Elk, more curious, and passionately anxious to extend his knowledge of the mysterious Maitland, had something to ask.

  “Johnson, you’ve been right close to this man Maitland for years. Have you noticed anything about him that’s particularly suspicious?”

  “Like what, Mr. Elk?”

  “Has he had any visitors for whom you couldn’t account? Have you known him, for example, to do anything which would suggest to you that he had something to do with the Frogs?”

  “The Frogs?” Johnson opened his eyes wide, and his voice emphasized his incredulity. “Bless you, no! I shouldn’t imagine he knows anything about these people. You mean the tramps who have committed so many crimes? No, Mr. Elk, I’ve never heard or seen or read anything which gave me that impression.”

  “You’ve seen the records of most of his transactions: are there any that he has made which would lead you to believe that he had benefited, say, by the death of Mr. Maclean in Dundee, or by the attack which was made upon the woollen merchant at Derby? For example, do you know whether he has been engaged in the buying or selling of French brandies or perfumes?”