CHAPTER XXXV
BELLAMY'S SUCCESS
Late that afternoon the hall-porter at the Milan Hotel, thecommissionaire, and the chief maitre d'hotel from the Cafe, whohappened to be in the hall, together with several others around theplace who knew Stephen Laverick by sight, were treated to anunexpected surprise. A large closed motor-car drove up to thefront entrance and several men descended, among whom was Laverickhimself. He nodded to the hall-porter, whose salute was purelymechanical, and making his way without hesitation to the interiorof the hotel, presented his receipt at the cashier's desk and askedfor his packet. The clerk looked up at him in amazement. He didnot, for the moment, notice that the two men standing immediatelybehind bore the stamp of plain-clothes policemen. He had only afew minutes ago finished reading the report of Laverick'sexamination before the magistrates and his remand until the morrow,upon the charge of murder. His knowledge of English law was by nomeans perfect, but he was at least aware that Laverick's appearanceoutside the purlieus of the prison was an unusual happening.
"Your packet, sir!" he repeated, in amazement. "Why, this is Mr.Laverick himself, is it not?"
"Certainly," was the quiet reply. "I am Stephen Laverick."
The clerk called the head cashier, who also stared at Laverick asthough he were a ghost. They whispered together in the backgroundfor a moment, and their faces were a study in perplexity. OfLaverick's identity, however, there was no manner of doubt. Besides,the presence of what was obviously a very ample escort somewhatreassured them. The cashier himself came forward.
"We shall be exceedingly glad, Mr. Laverick," he said dryly, "toget rid of your packet. Your instructions were that we shoulddisregard all orders to hand it over to any person whatsoever, andI may say that they have been strictly adhered to. We have,however, had two applications in your name this morning."
"They were both forgeries," Laverick declared.
The cashier hesitated. Then he leaned across the broad mahoganycounter towards Laverick. One of the men who appeared to form partof the escort detached himself from them and approached a fewsteps nearer.
"This gentleman is your friend, sir?" the cashier asked, glancingtowards him.
"He is my solicitor," Laverick answered, "and is entirely in myconfidence. If you have anything to tell me, I should like Mr.Bellamy also to hear."
Bellamy, who was standing a little in the background, took his placeby Laverick's side. The cashier, who knew him by sight, bowed.
"Beside these two forged orders, sir," he said, turning again toLaverick, "we have had a man who took a room in the hotel leave asmall black bag here, which he insisted upon having deposited inour document safe. My assistant had accepted it and was actuallylocking it up when he noticed a faint sound inside which he couldnot understand. The bag was opened and found to contain aninfernal machine which would have exploded in a quarter of an hour."
Bellamy drew his breath sharply between his teeth.
"We should have thought of that!" he exclaimed softly. "That'sKahn's work!"
"I seem to have given you a great deal of trouble," Laverickremarked quietly. "I gather, however, from what you say, that mypacket is still in your possession?"
"It is, sir," the man assented. "We have two detectives fromScotland Yard here at the present moment, though, and we hadalmost decided to place it in their charge for greater security."
"It will be well taken care of from now, I promise you," Laverickdeclared.
The cashier and his clerk led the way into the inner office. Attheir invitation Laverick and his solicitor followed, and a fewyards behind came the two plain-clothes policemen, Bellamy, andthe superintendent. The safe was opened and the packet placed inLaverick's hands. He passed it on at once to Bellamy, andimmediately afterwards the doorway behind was thronged with men,apparently ordinary loiterers around the hotel. They made a slowand exceedingly cautious exit. Once outside, Bellamy turned toLaverick with outstretched hand.
"Au revoir and good luck, old chap!" he said heartily. "I thinkyou'll find things go your way all right to-morrow morning."
He departed, forming one of a somewhat singular cavalcade--twoof his friends on either side, two in front, and two behind. Ithad almost the appearance of a procession. The whole party steppedinto a closed motor-car. Three or four men were lounging on thepavement and there was some excited whispering, but no one actuallyinterfered. As soon as they had left the courtyard, Laverick andhis solicitor, with his own guard, re-entered the motor-car inwhich they had arrived, and drove back to Bow Street. Very fewwords were exchanged during the short journey. His solicitor,however, bade him good-night cheerfully, and Laverick's bearingwas by no means the bearing of a man in despair.
In Downing Street, within the next half-an-hour, a somewhatremarkable little gathering took place. The two men chieflyresponsible for the destinies of the nation--the Prime Ministerand the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs--sat side by sidebefore a small table. Facing them was Bellamy, and spread out infront were those few pages of foolscap, released from theirenvelope a few minutes ago for the first time since the hand ofthe great Chancellor himself had pressed down the seal. TheForeign Minister had just finished a translation for the benefitof his colleague, and the two men were silent, as men are in thepresence of big events.
"Bellamy," the Prime Minister said slowly, "you are willing tostake, I presume, your reputation upon the authenticity of thisdocument?"
"My honor and my life, if you will," Bellamy answered earnestly."That is no copy which you have there. On the contrary, thehandwriting is the handwriting of the Chancellor himself."
The Prime Minister turned silently towards his colleague. Thelatter, whose eyes still seemed glued to those fateful words,looked up.
"All I can say is this," he remarked impressively, "that never inmy time have I seen written words possessed of so much significance.One moment, if you please."
He touched the bell, and his private secretary entered at once froman adjoining room.
"Anthony," he said, "telephone to the Great Western Railway Companyat Paddington. Ask for the station master in my name, and see thata special train is held ready to depart for Windsor in half-an-hour.Tell the station-master that all ordinary traffic must be held up,but that the destination of the special is not to be divulged."
The young man bowed and withdrew.
"The more I consider this matter," the Foreign Minister went on,"the more miraculous does the appearance of this document seem.We know now why the Czar is struggling so frantically to curtailhis visit--why he came, as it were, under protest, and seekseverywhere for an opportunity to leave before the appointed time.His health is all right. He has had a hint from Vienna that therehas been a leakage. His special mission only reached Paris thismorning. The President is in the country and their audience is notfixed until to-morrow. Rawson will go over with a copy of thesepapers and a dispatch from His Majesty by the nine o'clock train.It is not often that we have had the chance of such a 'coup' asthis."
He drew his chief a few steps away. They whispered together forseveral moments. When they returned, the Foreign Minister rangthe bell again for his secretary.
"Anthony," he said, "Sir James and I will be leaving in a fewminutes for Windsor. Go round yourself to General Hamilton,telephone to Aldershot for Lord Neville, and call round at theAdmiralty Board for Sir John Harrison. Tell them all to be hereat ten o'clock tonight. If I am not back, they must wait. Ifeither of them have royal commands, you need only repeat theword 'Finisterre.' They will understand."
The young man once more withdrew. The Prime Minister turnedback to the papers.
"It will be worth a great deal," he remarked, with a grim smile,"to see His Majesty's face when he reads this."
"It would be worth a great deal more," his fellow statesmananswered dryly, "to be with his August cousin at the interviewwhich will follow. A month ago, the thought that war might comeunder our administration was a continual t
error to me. To-daythings are entirely different. To-day it really seems that ifwar does come, it may be the most glorious happening for Englandof this century. You saw the last report from Kiel?"
Sir James nodded.
"There isn't a battleship or a cruiser worth a snap of the fingerssouth of the German Ocean," his colleague continued earnestly."They are cooped up--safe enough, they think--under the shelterof their fortifications. Hamilton has another idea. Between youand me, Sir James, so have I. I tell you," he went on, in adeeper and more passionate tone, "it's like the passing of aterrible nightmare--this. We have had ten years of panic, ofnervous fears of a German invasion, and no one knows more than youand I, Sir James, how much cause we have had for those fears. Itwill seem strange if, after all, history has to write that chapterdifferently."
The secretary re-entered and announced the result of his telephoneinterview with the superintendent at Paddington. The two greatmen rose. The Prime Minister held out his hand to Bellamy.
"Bellamy," he declared, "you've done us one more important service.There may be work for you within the next few weeks, but you'veearned a rest for a day or two, at any rate. There is nothing morewe can do?"
"Nothing except a letter to the Home Secretary, Sir James," Bellamyanswered. "Remember, sir, that although I have worked hard, theman to whom we really owe those papers is Stephen Laverick."
The Prime Minister frowned thoughtfully.
"It's a difficult situation, Bellamy," he said. "You are asking agreat deal when you suggest that we should interfere in theslightest manner with the course of justice. You are absolutelyconvinced, I suppose, that this man Laverick had nothing to dowith the murder?"
"Absolutely and entirely, sir," Bellamy replied.
"The murdered man has never been identified by the police," SirJames remarked. "Who was he?"
"His name was Rudolph Von Behrling," Bellamy announced, "and he wasactually the Chancellor's nephew, also his private secretary. Ihave told you the history, sir, of those papers. It was VonBehrling who, without a doubt, murdered the American journalistand secured them. It was he who insisted upon coming to Londoninstead of returning with them to Vienna, which would have been themost obvious course for him to have adopted. He was a pauper, anddesperately in love with a certain lady who has helped me throughoutthis matter. He agreed to part with the papers for twenty thousandpounds, and the lady incidentally promised to elope with him thesame night. I met him by appointment at that little restaurant inthe city, paid him the twenty thousand pounds, and received thefalse packet which you remember I brought to you, sir. As a matterof fact, Von Behrling, either by accident or design, and no man nowwill ever know which, left me with those papers which I was supposedto have bought in his possession, and also the money. Within fiveminutes he was murdered. Doubtless we shall know sometime by whom,but it was not by Stephen Laverick. Laverick's share in the wholething was nothing but this--that he found the pocket-book, and thathe made use of the notes in his business for twenty-four hours tosave himself from ruin. That was unjustifiable, of course. He hasmade atonement. The notes at this minute are in a safe depositvault and will be returned intact to the fund from which they came.I want, also, to impress upon you, Sir James, the fact that Baronde Streuss offered one hundred thousand pounds for that letter."
Sir James nodded thoughtfully. He stooped down and scrawled a fewlines on half a sheet of note-paper.
"You must take this to Lord Estcourt at once," he said, "and tellhim the whole affair, omitting all specific information as to thenature of the papers. The thing must be arranged, of course."
Half-a-dozen reporters, who had somehow got hold of the fact thatthe Prime Minister and his colleague from the Foreign Office weregoing down to Windsor on a special mission, followed them, but eventhey remained altogether in the dark as to the events which werereally transpiring. They knew nothing of the interview between theCzar and his August host--an interview which in itself was achapter in the history of these times. They knew nothing of thereason of their royal visitor's decision to prolong his visitinstead of shortening it, or of his autograph letter to thePresident of the French Republic, which reached Paris even beforethe special mission from St. Petersburg had presented themselves.The one thing which they did know, and that alone was significantenough, was that the Czar's Foreign Minister was cabled for thatnight to come to his master by special train from St. Petersburg.At the Austrian and German Embassies, forewarned by a report fromBaron de Streuss, something like consternation reigned. TheRussian Ambassador, heckled to death, took refuge at Windsor underpretence of a command from his royal master. The happiest man inLondon was Prince Rosmaran.
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