"Well," said Raffles, "what do you make of it?"
I read the advertisement once more before replying. It was in the last
column of the Daily Telegraph, and it ran:
TWO THOUSAND POUNDS REWARD--The above sum may be earned by any one
qualified to undertake delicate mission and prepared to run certain
risk.--Apply by telegram, Security, London.
"I think," said I, "it's the most extraordinary advertisement that ever
got into print!"
Raffles smiled.
"Not quite all that, Bunny; still, extraordinary enough, I grant you."
"Look at the figure!"
"It is certainly large."
"And the mission--and the risk!"
"Yes; the combination is frank, to say the least of it. But the really
original point is requiring applications by telegram to a telegraphic
address! There's something in the fellow who thought of that, and
something in his game; with one word he chokes off the million who
answer an advertisement every day--when they can raise the stamp. My
answer cost me five bob; but then I prepaid another."
"You don't mean to say that you've applied?"
"Rather," said Raffles. "I want two thousand pounds as much as any
man."
"Put your own name?"
"Well--no, Bunny, I didn't. In point of fact I smell something
interesting and illegal, and you know what a cautious chap I am. I
signed myself Glasspool, care of Hickey, 38, Conduit Street; that's my
tailor, and after sending the wire I went round and told him what to
expect. He promised to send the reply along the moment it came. I
shouldn't be surprised if that's it!"
And he was gone before a double-knock on the outer door had done
ringing through the rooms, to return next minute with an open telegram
and a face full of news.
"What do you think?" said he. "Security's that fellow Addenbrooke, the
police-court lawyer, and he wants to see me INSTANTER!"
"Do you know him, then?"
"Merely by repute. I only hope he doesn't know me. He's the chap who
got six weeks for sailing too close to the wind in the Sutton-Wilmer
case; everybody wondered why he wasn't struck off the rolls. Instead
of that he's got a first-rate practice on the seamy side, and every
blackguard with half a case takes it straight to Bennett Addenbrooke.
He's probably the one man who would have the cheek to put in an
advertisement like that, and the one man who could do it without
exciting suspicion. It's simply in his line; but you may be sure
there's something shady at the bottom of it. The odd thing is that I
have long made up my mind to go to Addenbrooke myself if accidents
should happen."
"And you're going to him now?"
"This minute," said Raffles, brushing his hat; "and so are you."
"But I came in to drag you out to lunch."
"You shall lunch with me when we've seen this fellow. Come on, Bunny,
and we'll choose your name on the way. Mine's Glasspool, and don't you
forget it."
Mr. Bennett Addenbrooke occupied substantial offices in Wellington
Street, Strand, and was out when we arrived; but he had only just gone
"over the way to the court"; and five minutes sufficed to produce a
brisk, fresh-colored, resolute-looking man, with a very confident,
rather festive air, and black eyes that opened wide at the sight of
Raffles.
"Mr.--Glasspool?" exclaimed the lawyer.
"My name," said Raffles, with dry effrontery.
"Not up at Lord's, however!" said the other, slyly. "My dear sir, I
have seen you take far too many wickets to make any mistake!"
For a single moment Raffles looked venomous; then he shrugged and
smiled, and the smile grew into a little cynical chuckle.
"So you have bowled me out in my turn?" said he. "Well, I don't think
there's anything to explain. I am harder up than I wished to admit
under my own name, that's all, and I want that thousand pounds reward."
"Two thousand," said the solicitor. "And the man who is not above an
alias happens to be just the sort of man I want; so don't let that
worry you, my dear sir. The matter, however, is of a strictly private
and confidential character." And he looked very hard at me.
"Quite so," said Raffles. "But there was something about a risk?"
"A certain risk is involved."
"Then surely three heads will be better than two. I said I wanted that
thousand pounds; my friend here wants the other. We are both cursedly
hard up, and we go into this thing together or not at all. Must you
have his name too? I should give him my real one, Bunny."
Mr. Addenbrooke raised his eyebrows over the card I found for him; then
he drummed upon it with his finger-nail, and his embarrassment
expressed itself in a puzzled smile.
"The fact is, I find myself in a difficulty," he confessed at last.
"Yours is the first reply I have received; people who can afford to
send long telegrams don't rush to the advertisements in the Daily
Telegraph; but, on the other hand, I was not quite prepared to hear
from men like yourselves. Candidly, and on consideration, I am not
sure that you ARE the stamp of men for me--men who belong to good
clubs! I rather intended to appeal to the--er--adventurous classes."
"We are adventurers," said Raffles gravely.
"But you respect the law?"
The black eyes gleamed shrewdly.
"We are not professional rogues, if that's what you mean," said
Raffles, smiling. "But on our beam-ends we are; we would do a good
deal for a thousand pounds apiece, eh, Bunny?"
"Anything," I murmured.
The solicitor rapped his desk.
"I'll tell you what I want you to do. You can but refuse. It's
illegal, but it's illegality in a good cause; that's the risk, and my
client is prepared to pay for it. He will pay for the attempt, in case
of failure; the money is as good as yours once you consent to run the
risk. My client is Sir Bernard Debenham, of Broom Hall, Esher."
"I know his son," I remarked.
Raffles knew him too, but said nothing, and his eye drooped disapproval
in my direction. Bennett Addenbrooke turned to me.
"Then," said he, "you have the privilege of knowing one of the most
complete young black-guards about town, and the fons et origo of the
whole trouble. As you know the son, you may know the father too, at
all events by reputation; and in that case I needn't tell you that he
is a very peculiar man. He lives alone in a storehouse of treasures
which no eyes but his ever behold. He is said to have the finest
collection of pictures in the south of England, though nobody ever sees
them to judge; pictures, fiddles and furniture are his hobby, and he is
undoubtedly very eccentric. Nor can one deny that there has been
considerable eccentricity in his treatment of his son. For years Sir
Bernard paid his debts, and the other day, without the slightest
warning, not only refused to do so any more, but absolutely stopped the
lad's allowance. Well, I'll tell you what has happened; but first of
all you must know, or you may remember, that I appeared for young
Debenham in a little scrape he got into a year or two ago. I got him
off all right, and Sir Bernard paid me handsomely on the nail. And no
more did I hear or see of either of them until one day last week."
The lawyer drew his chair nearer ours, and leant forward with a hand on
either knee.
"On Tuesday of last week I had a telegram from Sir Bernard; I was to go
to him at once. I found him waiting for me in the drive; without a
word he led me to the picture-gallery, which was locked and darkened,
drew up a blind, and stood simply pointing to an empty picture-frame.
It was a long time before I could get a word out of him. Then at last
he told me that that frame had contained one of the rarest and most
valuable pictures in England--in the world--an original Velasquez. I
have checked this," said the lawyer, "and it seems literally true; the
picture was a portrait of the Infanta Maria Teresa, said to be one of
the artist's greatest works, second only to another portrait of one of
the Popes in Rome--so they told me at the National Gallery, where they
had its history by heart. They say there that the picture is
practically priceless. And young Debenham has sold it for five
thousand pounds!"
"The deuce he has," said Raffles.