A Case of Conspiracy in Clerkenwell

by Clara Benson

  There were some books on the shelf, too, and he was just about to turn his attention to them when he heard the sound of voices coming up the stairs. Quick as a flash, he turned off the light and listened. Instead of pausing by the lavatory, however, the voices came closer. Freddy looked around in panic and darted behind a large, antique wardrobe with a cracked and splintered front—just as the door opened and someone came in, turning on the light as they did so. It was at that moment that Freddy made two unwelcome discoveries: first, that he had left the paper in the typewriter; and second, that with the light switched on, his presence behind the wardrobe was clearly reflected in the window for anyone to see.

  Freddy froze and shut his eyes for a second as the sound of footsteps crossed the room. He expected to be hauled out and at the very least forced to explain why he had made the unforgivable faux pas of snooping around the Schusters’ private apartments. To his surprise, however, the footsteps did not pause, but crossed the room and passed through a door. He opened his eyes and saw from the reflection in the window that the room was empty. Whoever it was must not have seen him. He emerged cautiously from behind the wardrobe and noticed for the first time that there was a door in the far wall, partially concealed behind a large heap of boxes. Breathing a silent sigh of relief, he tiptoed across to the typewriter and carefully removed the paper from it, but did not dare risk putting the machine back where he had found it. He was about to leave the room before he was caught, but the sound of voices from the other side of the inner door aroused his curiosity. He silently moved towards it, and, after a moment’s hesitation, applied his ear to the crack. He recognized Leonard Peacock’s loud voice immediately, but the person to whom he was talking spoke more quietly and Freddy was unable to identify who it was, although it was certainly a man. He chided himself for his own cowardice in having closed his eyes as the newcomers had crossed the room, for had he kept them open he might have seen who the other person was.

  ‘—simply won’t work,’ Peacock was saying. ‘I told you it was no good, and that he can’t be trusted. I’ve had my suspicions about him for some time. He’s going to blow the whole thing wide open, I tell you.’

  There came the muffled sound of the other speaker, then Peacock replied:

  ‘You’d better take care of it, then. Not I—it would be too obvious. Tonight, preferably. Or soon, at any rate.’

  The other speaker talked for a few moments, but Freddy could hear none of it, then:

  ‘I’ve thought of a way round that,’ said Peacock. ‘I was speaking to that ass Bagshawe—’

  His voice fell, and Freddy strained to hear, but could distinguish nothing more than the sound of murmuring.

  ‘Oh, there’s no doubt of it,’ came Peacock’s voice, raised again. ‘He was spotted, you see. He’ll be easy enough to fool. I know the type—will say yes to anything. No—not just yet; we’ll leave it till closer to the time, I think. We don’t want him to suspect anything. Now, about the other thing—’

  The other man spoke, then Peacock’s voice came again:

  ‘What about Thursday night? Is this fellow square? Can we be sure he won’t talk out of turn? Very well, I’ll get it, then. You’d better give me his name—oh, and some money, too. All right—I’ll see you at Russell Square at seven o’clock. I’ll wait on the corner opposite the hotel.’

  There came the sound of footsteps and Freddy darted back from the door and out onto the landing. He was just in time to lock himself in the lavatory before Peacock and his unidentified companion walked past and down the stairs. Freddy had intended to wait a moment or two then come out in time to see who the second man was. Unfortunately for him, however, he found that the bolt on the door had stuck, and by the time he got it undone the two of them had disappeared. Freddy dashed downstairs and looked around. In the doorway of the dining-room Peacock was talking to Trevett, whom he was almost sure was not the owner of the second voice. Where was Anton Schuster? Freddy glanced into the study and saw that Schuster was no longer there. He kicked himself at his bad luck at having missed his chance to see the second man, although he was almost certain it was the Austrian, for who else but he would know of the existence of the inner box-room? At that, it occurred to Freddy that perhaps the two speakers had left some clue in the second room. Glancing around to make sure nobody was watching, he returned upstairs to the box-room and peered cautiously through the inner door. The second room was little more than a large cupboard, and contained nothing but boxes, a wooden stool and a lamp. Freddy wondered at the stool until he looked inside one or two of the boxes and found they were all full of books. Perhaps Schuster came up here now and again to look through his collection in peace and quiet. Freddy was about to turn and leave when his eye fell on a little stack of books which had been left on top of a pile of boxes. One of them was a cheap novel, wrapped in a bright blue jacket, such as one buys at a railway station. The title was The Secret of the Black Veil, and its author was unknown to Freddy, although a quick glance inside showed the novel to be of the sensational type. Freddy quickly noted down the edition number and the date of publication, and put the book back where he had found it. If this was indeed the book he was looking for, then it was better not to alert the conspirators to the fact that their code had been broken.

  There was little else to be seen here, so he switched off the lamp and came out into the main box-room. A glance at the shelves next to the table revealed nothing of interest either. He replaced the typewriter, then with a last look around the room turned off the light and emerged onto the landing, where he almost jumped out of his skin, for there before him stood Theresa Schuster.

  ‘Hallo,’ he said as casually as he could manage. ‘I was just—er—looking for someone, but I see she’s not here.’

  ‘Nobody is up here except ourselves,’ said Mrs. Schuster. She was wearing an evening-gown in a soft greenish-gold which shimmered as she moved, and set off the amber of her eyes to perfection. Around her neck was a choker of jade green glass beads in a bronze-coloured setting, and she wore earrings to match. She was standing near him, and again he caught the faint scent of roses and spices.

  ‘I—’ he began, intending to launch into a further explanation as to why he was snooping around in his hostess’s house, but something about the satisfied little smile that turned up the corners of her mouth as she looked at him told him that she was not interested—or perhaps had noticed nothing out of the ordinary—and he was unable to continue. It was most unusual for him to find himself dumb-struck, and he wondered at it.

  ‘I’m sorry I did not see you arrive,’ she said. ‘But you see, it is true what I told you—that Anton and I like to enjoy ourselves.’

  ‘Er—yes,’ said Freddy.

  ‘Myself, I like it particularly,’ she said, and her tone was full of meaning.

  It was most odd. He was perfectly conscious that she was deliberately exercising her powers of mesmerism on him—could feel the force of it from where he stood—and yet despite that knowledge, he could not turn his gaze away from those amber eyes of hers. Close up, he could once again see the faint scar that ran across her left cheekbone. She saw him looking at it.

  ‘Feel it,’ she said, and before he could stop her she caught up his hand, put it to her face, and ran his fingers gently across it. Had she kissed him it could not have felt more intimate.

  ‘How did you get it?’ he said.

  Her brows drew together as though she were in momentary pain.

  ‘From my first husband,’ she said. ‘He was a bad man, a violent man.’

  ‘What happened to him?’

  ‘He died,’ she replied shortly. ‘Then Anton came, and was kind to me. But he is old, and I wonder sometimes whether he is strong enough to protect me. What about you?’ She turned her eyes to his left ear-lobe, which was ragged and half-missing. ‘I see you have known violence too. But I know you are not the sort to be frightened by it. Shoul
d you protect me if I were in danger?’

  ‘Are you in danger?’

  ‘I know we have enemies,’ she said with sudden intensity. ‘And I know they would like nothing more than to see me dead.’ Then her face cleared and she smiled. ‘But I feel I can trust you. If something should happen, then I am sure you will not turn me away if I come to you for help.’

  ‘Certainly not, what?’ he said stupidly.

  She was still holding his hand, and she laid it against her lips.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I will remember your words. I feel a sympathy with you, and know you would not let me come to harm. But you must say nothing of this to anyone, or you, too, will be in danger.’

  ‘Oh—er—rather,’ said Freddy.

  Someone was coming up the stairs, and she let go of his hand and moved away from him.

  ‘Remember,’ she said, then turned and went downstairs.

  Freddy remained where he was, for she had left him feeling a little dazed. After a few minutes he shook himself, took a deep breath, and forced himself to consider the encounter dispassionately. To his surprise, he found that the hand she had taken in hers was tingling, and that his heart was racing as though he had been running. He had to admit that whatever power she had exercised on him, she had done it very effectively.

  ‘I wonder if they learn hypnotism at school in Austria,’ he said musingly to himself. ‘And what exactly does she want of me? Does she really have enemies, as she said? Or is she trying to draw me in for some other purpose?’

  He had no answers to his questions at present, so there was nothing to do but go downstairs and look for Mildred, for he was starting to think that this was a suitable moment in which to leave. He had found out a number of interesting things that evening, but it was probably best to stop now, before his activities began to arouse suspicion. Besides, he realized with a sudden shock as he glanced at his watch, it was already after midnight, and Mildred had promised her mother that she would not be home late. But Mildred was nowhere to be found. Freddy put his head into the dining-room. She was not there, but two other people he recognized were: Ruth Chudderley and Ivor Trevett, who to judge from their current attitude were on much friendlier terms than anyone had supposed. Freddy withdrew his head hurriedly and gave a silent whistle.

  ‘Well, there’s a turn-up!’ he said to himself. ‘So much for St. John’s hopes, although I don’t suppose there was ever much chance for him anyway. Odd, though. I should have said she was a cold fish, but it seems not.’

  Eventually he found Mildred in the drawing-room. She was sitting on the floor among a group of people, giggling uncontrollably.

  ‘Freddy!’ she cried gaily when she caught sight of him. ‘Look, everyone, this is Freddy. Move up so he can sit down. We’re playing the most marvellous game,’ she said to him. ‘It’s called “Hobbes and Descartes Took the ’Bus.” Everyone has to add a famous philosopher to the list and you have to remember them all, and if you miss one out or get them in the wrong order you have to take a drink.’ She gave a sorrowful hiccup. ‘I’ve an awful memory, so I’m losing rather badly.’

  Freddy noticed that she was speaking very carefully and deliberately, and he looked at the glass beside her in dismay.

  ‘Mildred, you idiot,’ he said ‘How much have you had?’

  She waved a hand.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘It can’t be much, though. These drinks are only small. I mean to say, three of them would barely fill a teacup. And there was rather a nice cigarette, too. It tasted much better than that horrid one of yours, and gave me a lovely floaty feeling, just like being on a cloud.’

  ‘Good God!’ exclaimed Freddy. He had the sinking sensation that he was about to get into trouble for this.

  ‘There’s no need for that,’ said Mildred primly. ‘I say, you’re not going to tell Mummy, are you?’

  ‘Of course I’m not going to tell her. As a matter of fact, at this moment I’m considering emigration. Look here, my girl, I’m taking you home this minute.’

  ‘But I don’t want to go home,’ said Mildred, pouting.

  ‘Have you any idea what time it is?’

  ‘No,’ said Mildred. ‘I lost my watch in a card game.’

  Freddy raised his eyes and forced himself to remain calm.

  ‘Well, I can tell you,’ he said. ‘It’s nearly one o’clock, and you promised your mother you’d be home before midnight.’

  ‘I’m sure she won’t mind,’ said Mildred. ‘In fact, I dare say she won’t even find out. She’s probably asleep by now.’

  ‘I thought you said she was going to wait up for you.’

  ‘Then she’ll have to wait a bit longer, won’t she?’ said Mildred. She beamed around at her new friends. ‘We’re having fun, aren’t we? Someone get me another drink. Hi! What do you think you’re doing?’

  This last exclamation came as Freddy hauled her to her feet by the elbows and marched her out of the room without ceremony.

  ‘We’re going home,’ he said.

  ‘Do you treat all your women like this?’ she said indignantly, as Freddy fetched her coat and hat and threw them at her.

  ‘Only the fatheaded ones,’ he replied.

  ‘That’s jolly rude,’ she said.

  ‘I thought you weren’t going to drink?’

  ‘But I didn’t—at least, not very much. There’s no harm in one or two, is there?’

  ‘One or two? Nine or ten, more like, from the looks of you,’ said Freddy.

  ‘Nonsense,’ said Mildred. ‘If I’d had that many I’d be drunk, and as you can see, I’m perfectly sober. Oh! How did that happen?’

  She had slid down the wall, and was now sitting on the floor, looking about her in surprise.

  ‘Up you get,’ said Freddy, and hauled her upright again. Between them they got her coat and hat on. Mildred wanted to say goodbye to her friends, but Freddy propelled her out through the front door, ignoring her protests, then hurried her down the street. After a few yards, however, it became clear that the cold night air was having an unfortunate effect on Mildred’s ability to remain standing. She clung to his arm and began to stagger, laughing hysterically as she did so.

  ‘I want to go to a night-club,’ she slurred.

  ‘You want to go to bed,’ he said. ‘We’d better find a taxi.’ He stopped and let go of Mildred’s arm while he tried to flag down an approaching cab. ‘Damn, it’s taken,’ he said, then turned back to find that she had once again sunk to the ground. He picked her up again, but she could barely keep to her feet. She was evidently completely incapable. She suddenly seemed to realize that all was not well.

  ‘Why can’t I stand up?’ she said.

  ‘Because you’re roaring drunk, you idiot,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, goodness me!’ she exclaimed in dismay. ‘What am I to do? I can’t go home, or Mummy will kill me. Where can I go?’

  ‘The best place for you is in bed,’ said Freddy. ‘Can you pretend to be sober, do you think? You might manage it if you don’t stop to chat when you get in.’

  But one look at her was enough to tell him that that was impossible. His heart sank. Mrs. Starkweather was an upright and unsuspicious sort, and would be most unamused to find that the young man to whom she had entrusted the safety of her only daughter had taken her out and brought her home three sheets in the wind. Even though he was not at fault in this instance, he sensed he was in for the most terrific wigging.

  ‘I can’t go home,’ she repeated with a hiccup. ‘Freddy, you must let me stay at your place tonight.’

  Freddy tried to calculate by what factor his offence would be compounded in Mrs. Starkweather’s eyes if he took Mildred back to his flat for the night, but decided it was beyond the power of mathematics.

  ‘Oh, no you don’t,’ he said. ‘You’ll go home and face up to it, just as everybody else
has to. And anyway, it won’t be you who gets into trouble,’ he went on sourly. ‘It’ll be me, as usual. She’ll say I put you up to it.’

  ‘Why would she say that? You don’t think I told her I was coming out with you, do you?’

  ‘Didn’t you?’

  ‘Of course not. Why, the very idea! She’d have locked me up in my room rather than let me go if she knew I was with you.’

  ‘Really? I thought she liked me.’

  ‘She does like you. But trusting you is quite a different thing. Your reputation goes before you, you see,’ said Mildred darkly. ‘I know lots of girls who aren’t allowed to go out if their mothers hear that you’re going to be one of the party.’

  ‘Good Lord!’ said Freddy. It had never occurred to him that fearful mamas across London might be taking steps to shield their daughters from his pernicious influence, and he could not decide whether to be insulted or flattered.

  ‘So you see, it will be all the worse if you take me home now, because she’ll know I was with you tonight,’ said Mildred. ‘You’re in the clear as long as she never finds out. I’ll go home in the morning and think of some excuse in the meantime.’