The Mystery Queen

by Fergus Hume

  “Omniscient is a good word. We know that you love Lillian Moon and wish to marry her; we know that her uncle is willing this should be so, if you discover the truth about his brother’s death. You have been searching for the assassin, and you are still searching. That search must stop.”

  “I think not.”

  “If you refuse to obey,” said Queen Beelzebub, coldly, “we can put you out of the way, as we have put others out of the way.”

  “The Law—”

  A faint murmur of laughter was heard, suggestive of scorn. “We care nothing for the law,” said the speaker, contemptuously.

  “Oh, I think you do, or you would not have taken all this trouble to have brought me here.”

  “You are here to receive an offer.”

  “Indeed. I shall be glad to hear the offer.”

  “We wish you to join the Society of Flies, and swear to obey me, the queen.”

  “Thank you, but an association of cut-throats does not appeal to me.”

  “Think twice before you refuse,” the voice became threatening.

  “I think once, and that is sufficient,” returned Dan, drily.

  “You are at our mercy. We can kill you as we have killed others.”

  “There are worse things than death. Dishonour.”

  “You talk like a fool,” scoffed Queen Beelzebub. “What is dishonour? Merely a word. It means nothing.”

  “I can well believe that it means nothing to you and your friends, said Dan, who was weary of this fencing: “may I ask what advantage I gain by becoming a member of your bloodthirsty gang?”

  “We are an association,” boomed the great voice, “banded against the injustice of the world. We resent few people having wealth and the majority going without the necessaries of life. Being limited in number, the Law is too strong for us, and we cannot gain our objects openly; therefore we have to strike in the dark.”

  “And your objects?”

  “To equalise wealth, to give our members wealth, position, comfort, and power.”

  “Oh. It’s a kind of Socialistic community. You work for the poor.”

  “We work for ourselves.”

  “Rather selfish, isn’t it?”

  “People will only work for self, and to those who labour for us we give all that they wish for. Become a member, and you will realise your heart’s desire.”

  “Perhaps,” said Halliday, in a caustic tone, “I may realise that without your aid.”

  “We think not. To marry Lillian Moon you must find who murdered her father, and that person will never be found.”

  “Then why stop me from searching?”

  “It is a pity you should waste your time,” said Queen Beelzebub sarcastically; “besides, you are one who would do honour to our society.”

  “Perhaps. But would the society do honour to me?”

  “We can give you what you desire, on certain conditions.”

  “What are they?”

  “You must take the oath and sign the book; swear to obey me, who am the head of this association, without question; promise to be secret, and give all your talents to forwarding the aims of the Society of Flies.”

  “H’m,” said Dan, coolly, “a very comprehensive oath indeed. And the aims?”

  “Wealth and power. We are banded together to get what we want, independent of the law, and we think that the end justifies the means. We accept money from those people who desire to get rid of their enemies, or of those who stand between them and their desires. We supply plans of English forts to foreign powers on condition that large sums are paid to us. We trade on the secrets of people, which we learn in various ways. If we are asked by any member to get him something, all the resources of the society are at his disposal. Rivals can be removed if he wants to marry; relatives can be put out of the way if he wishes for their money. There is no height to which an ambitious man cannot climb with our aid. Join us, and you shall marry Lillian Moon within the year, and also shall enjoy her large fortune.”

  Desirous to learn more of the villainies with which this precious band of scoundrels was concerned, Dan temporised. “And if I refuse?”

  “You will be put to death!”

  “Now? At this very moment?” Dan’s blood ran cold, for, after all, he was yet young, and life was sweet to him.

  “No. You will be allowed to go, and death shall fall upon you when you least expect it. Thus your agony will be great, for death may find you tomorrow, or in a week, a month, or a year. We are not afraid you will tell the police, for if you do it will only hasten your end. Besides, you do not know where you are, and shall be taken away as secretly as you have been brought here. The Law cannot touch us, because we work underground like moles, and even if you told the police, your story of what has happened would only be laughed at. The police,” here the voice sneered, “think everything is known, and refuse to believe that we exist.”

  “Well,” said Dan, as if making up his mind, “can I ever leave the society if I once join it?”

  “Yes,” said Queen Beelzebub, unexpectedly; “when you take the oath you must swear to be sober, chaste, and secret, since these qualities are needed to keep a member in good working trim. A certain amount of work you must do in connection with our aims, so that you dare not speak without being implicated in our doings. But, after a time, you can leave with money, position, or power—whatever you desire, and then can lead your own life, however profligate it may be. But while a member you must be a saint.”

  “A black saint,” murmured Dan, wondering at the solid ground upon which this association was founded, and thinking how dangerous it could be with its misdirected aims, “well, I don’t say ‘No’ and I don’t say ‘Yes’. I must have time to think what my answer will be.”

  “You shall have one month to consider, and then you shall be brought here secretly again,” said Queen Beelzebub, authoritatively, “but you will be wise if you join us. We wish you to do so because you have brains, and we want brains. Our society will rule the world if we get clever men to join, as the training of our members in sobriety, chastity, self-control, and secrecy is that of the so-called saints.”

  “I see,” said Dan cheerfully, “the Lord’s Prayer said backward, so to speak, your Majesty. Well, the whole business is clever, and extremely well managed as I can see. I shall take my month’s respite, and then—”

  “And then if you say ‘Yes’, you will have all that the world can give you; if you say ‘No’, prepare for death.”

  A murmur, vague and indistinct, went round the dark room. “Prepare for death.”

  “And if I speak to the police in the meantime?” asked Dan, yawning.

  “You have been warned that if you do, death will follow immediately,” declared Queen Beelzebub, “no human law can protect you from us. Enough has been said, and you have thirty days to decide what to do.” As she spoke, the red light vanished as abruptly as it had come. Dan could only hear the steady breathing of many people in the gloom, and wondered how many members of this devilish society were present.

  At that moment, and while the thought was yet in his mind, he felt that a pastille was being held under his nose. The drowsy scent stole into his brain, although he tried to avert his head, and almost immediately he became again unconscious. Again he fell into gulfs of gloom, and remembered nothing. When he recovered his senses, he was seated in a four-wheeler, driving in an unknown direction, and he was alone. His head ached, but he struck a match and looked at his watch. It was eleven o’clock.

  “Where did you find me?” he asked the cabman, putting his head out of the window, and noticing that he was in a well-lighted street.

  “A friend of yours brought you to my cab,” said the man, “saying you was drunk—dead drunk. He gave me your address, and I’m taking you home.”

  “Clever,” said Dan to himself, accepting the explanation without comment.

  Chapter XIII. A BOLD DETERMINATION

  Dan went to bed with an aching head, doubtle
ss induced by the power of the drug which had been used to stupefy him. The Sumatra perfume was evidently both powerful and useful, as it was used by the Society of Flies not only as a means of recognition in the form of a harmless scent, but as a soporific to bring about insensibility. Probably many a person had been rendered unconscious by the drowsy smoke, and taken to the headquarters of the infernal association, there to become members. But where the headquarters were to be found, Dan had not the slightest notion. And, as his head pained him greatly, he decided to wait until the next morning before thinking out the matter. Off and on he managed to sleep a trifle, but it was not until the small hours that true slumber came to him. It was nine o’clock when he woke, and then he found his head clear, and the pain absent. Only an evil taste remained in his mouth, and after a cold bath he felt more himself, although a touch of languor remained to recall to his recollection what he had been through.

  After breakfast he lighted a pipe, and began to think over late events as carefully as was necessary. On alighting at his own door he had paid the driver of the four-wheeled cab, and had asked questions, which the man was willing enough to answer. Halliday hoped by learning where the cabman had picked him up to discover at least the neighbourhood wherein the headquarters were situated. It was difficult to think that an unconscious person, as he had been, could have been taken any great distance along streets, or roads, or lanes, without attention being attracted. But the cabman explained that the friend who had placed his fare in the four-wheeler had removed him from a taxi, which the friend declared had broken down. “And he wanted to get you home, you being drunk,” explained the driver, “so he shoved you into my trap, and I drove off, having the address I was to take you to, leaving your friend to look after the broken-down taxi, along with the chuffer.”

  From this explanation it was apparent that on being removed from the dark room Dan had been transported for some distance, long or short, in the taxi. He did not believe that the same had broken down, but that his friend—probably Marcus Penn—had hailed the first cab he saw, and on pretence of an accident had got rid of him in this clever way. It was West Kensington where this exchange had taken place, according to the cabman’s story, but since he had been driven an indefinite distance by Penn in the taxi, the headquarters might be in Hampstead, or Blackheath, or Ilford, or, indeed, anywhere round about London, if not in the heart of the metropolis itself. All bearings were lost by the clever way in which the return had been carried out.

  And now Halliday scarcely knew what to do, or how to act. He did not dare to tell the police, as the first sign of activity on the part of the authorities would mean his own death in some mysterious way. He also would be found with an artificial fly near the wound, and the odour of the Sumatra scent on his clothes. As Dan did not wish to die, he therefore hesitated to make any statement to Inspector Tenson of Hampstead, who was so anxious to learn the secret and gain the reward. In fact, he hoped that the man would not come to his rooms—he had been there several times in quest of information—lest he should smell the Sumatra scent. Dan found that he had brought the perfume away on his clothes when he examined them, which was scarcely to be wondered at considering how powerfully the dark room had reeked of the odour. Certainly Tenson did not know the scent so well as Halliday did, although he had experienced a whiff of it when examining the body of Sir Charles Moon. But he might have forgotten the smell.

  While Dan turned over his clothes—the blue serge suit he had worn on the previous night—he found a piece of paper in one of the trousers pockets which contained a message type-written in crimson ink. It was set forth in the third person, by no less an individual than Queen Beelzebub herself, and ran as follows-

  “QUEEN BEELZEBUB warns Daniel Halliday that not only his own life depends upon his secrecy but the life of Lillian Moon also. Should he apply to the authorities, or in any way recount his adventures, the girl he loves will be put out of the way, and afterwards Daniel Halliday will be dealt with. At the end of thirty days Queen Beelzebub expects to receive homage from her new subject, who will receive notice of time and place fixed for the ceremony. Remember!”

  “Quite a Charles-the-First ring about that last word,” thought Dan, frowning at the threatening message; “the scoundrels: they have tied my hands with a vengeance. What the deuce am I to do?”

  It was useless for him to ask himself this question as the only answer could be, “Nothing!” If he moved in any way likely to harm the society he ran the chance of sacrificing, not only himself, but Lillian. It was bad enough that he should be done to death—he might have risked that so as to break up the organisation; but it was impossible to place the girl he loved in so dangerous a position. Queen Beelzebub knew what she was about when she used the phrase. And Halliday was well aware that the society had a long arm, and that nothing could protect Lillian from these moles who were working in darkness—clever, deadly, and unscrupulous.

  For the next two days the young man went about in a dream, or rather in a nightmare. He did not dare to see Lillian, or to write to Lillian, lest the members of the Society should believe he was betraying them. They appeared to have spies everywhere, and there was no move on the chessboard which he could make which might not be detected. Yet he could not wait passively for the rest of the thirty days, since he had no idea of joining the band, and had only asked for a respite so as to think out some means of escape. More than ever he longed for the return of Laurance. He could trust him, and a consultation between the two might evolve some scheme by which to baffle the subjects of the accursed woman who called herself Queen Beelzebub. Dan wondered if she was Mrs. Jarsell, but the evidence of the perfume seemed too slight a link to join her with this deadly organisation. Of course, there was Marcus Penn, who was a member and knew everything; but he would not speak, since he also ran a risk of death should he betray too much. Still, Dan, being in the same boat and under the same ban, fancied that the secretary might be frank, as his confidence could not be abused. Now, if he could get Penn to state positively that Mrs. Jarsell was Queen Beelzebub, he might have something tangible upon which to work. But, taking into consideration the Egyptian mask, and the alteration of the voice by means of the artificial mouth-piece, Dan believed that she wished to keep her identity secret; always presuming that Queen Beelzebub was the “she” in question. On this assumption Halliday concluded that Penn could not speak out, and bothered himself for hours as to whether it would be worth while to ask the secretary questions.

  While still in this undecided frame of mind he received a morning visit from Laurance, who turned up unexpectedly. Freddy, in pursuit of his business, played puss-in-the-corner all over the world, coming and going from London in the most unexpected manner. He reminded Dan of this when the young man jumped up with an exclamation at his sudden entrance.

  “You might have known that I would turn up, anyhow,” he said, sitting down, and accepting an offer to have breakfast. “I never know where I shall be on any given date, and you must be always prepared for the unexpected so far as I am concerned. I heard you were looking for me, when I returned last night from Vienna, so I came along to feed with you.”

  Halliday ordered his man to bring in a clean cup, and poured out coffee, after which he heaped Freddy’s plate with bacon and kidneys. “There you are, old fellow, eat away and get yourself ready for a long talk. I have heaps to tell you likely to be interesting.”

  “About the murder of Durwin?” questioned, reaching for toast.

  “Yes, and about the murder of Sir Charles Moon also. You don’t mind my smoking while you eat?”

  “No. Smoke away! Have you seen ‘The Moment’ this morning?”

  “No. Anything interesting in it about your Austrian excursion?”

  “Oh, yes,” said Laurance, indifferently, “I managed to learn a good deal about these anarchistic beasts, and it’s set all out in print. But that’s not what I meant,” he fumbled in his pockets. “Hang it! I haven’t brought a paper, and I meant to. There’
s a death chronicled this morning.”

  Dan sat up and shivered. “Another of the murders?”

  “Yes. Marcus Penn this time.”

  “Penn!” Halliday dropped his pipe. “The devil,” he picked it up again. “I wonder why they killed him?”

  “He told you too much, maybe,” said Laurance, drily; “anyhow, the gang has got rid of him by drowning him in an ornamental pond in Curberry’s grounds.”

  “He might have fallen in,” suggested Dan, uneasily, “or he might have committed suicide out of sheer terror.”

  “Well, he might have,” admitted Freddy, thoughtfully, “but from what I saw of the man I should think he was too great a coward to commit suicide.”

  Dan smoked in a meditative manner. “I suppose she killed him, or had him killed,” he said aloud, after a pause.

  “She? Who?”

  “The she-devil who presides over the Society of Flies. Queen Beelzebub.”

  Laurance dropped his knife and fork to stare hard at his friend. “So you have learned something since I have been away?”

  “Several things. Wait a moment.” Dan rose and retired to his bedroom, while Freddy pushed away the breakfast things, as he did not wish to eat further in the face of Halliday’s hint, which had taken away his appetite. In a few minutes Dan came back to the sitting-room carrying the clothes he had worn on the night of his kidnapping, which still retained a faint odour of the fatal scent belonging to the gang. “Smell that,” said Dan, placing the clothes on his friend’s knee.

  Laurance sniffed. “Is this the Sumatra scent?” he asked, “h’m; quite a tropical fragrance. But I thought you proved to your satisfaction that there was nothing in this perfume business?”

  “I always had my doubts,” said Halliday, drily, “they were lulled by Penn’s lies and reawakened when I found the scent at Mrs. Jarsell’s. Now I know all about the matter. I place my life in your hands by telling you.”

  “Is it as serious as that?” asked Laurance, uneasily.