THE FIRST COUNTER-STROKE
Furneaux apparently made up his mind with reference to the contents of a
somewhat enigmatic message after one quick, unerring perusal.
"The man who wrote that took a great many things for granted," he said.
"He assumed, firstly, that you knew of Mrs. Lester's death and
understood its significance; secondly, that you are aware of the nature
of the 'terms' he will offer; thirdly, that you may hesitate between
compliance and threatened death. 'Y. M.,' of course, can be read as
'Young Manchus.' Even there, the writer exhibits artistic reticence....
Frankly, Mr. Forbes, I wish you had come straight to Scotland Yard on
Monday evening instead of wasting those precious hours at Daly's
Theater."
Forbes was moved to energetic protest.
"How was I to deduce the true nature of these hell hounds' mission from
a casual glance vouchsafed of one who may or may not be their leader?"
he cried.
"Yet you treated your discovery as serious enough to warrant a prompt
visit to the woman with whom association was dangerous?"
"Yes; I wanted to act secretly."
"Just so. You were afraid the police would bungle the job. Between you
and Mr. Theydon, you have exhibited remarkable skill in heading us off
the scent. Fortunately, we were able to dispense with your assistance,
having other matters to occupy our brains. You two were ripe nuts
waiting to be cracked and have the contents extracted at leisure. There
were a few freshly broken shells lying about which invited immediate
attention. For instance, some four months ago, a well-known and
reputable firm of private inquiry agents was instructed from Canton to
secure all possible information about Mrs. Lester and you--yes, you, Mr.
Forbes--your household, friends, methods of living, servants,
tradesmen,--every sort of fact, indeed, which might be useful to a
thoroughgoing and well-organized society of cutthroats like the Young
Manchus. The inquiry agents did their work well, and were handsomely
paid for it. I haven't the least doubt that Wong Li Fu knows what brand
of cigars you favor, and what you eat for breakfast. His informants sent
us a copy of their notes an hour after the murder was announced in the
newspapers. Mr. Lester is 'removed' in Shanghai. His widow comes home.
The inquiry agents receive instructions. They forward their report to
Canton, and Wong Li Fu turns up in London. The program is a tribute to
the excellence and regularity of the mail service between England and
the Far East."
While the detective was speaking, Forbes's face, already haggard, had
grown desperate.
"I care little for my own life," he said, "but I shall stop short of no
measures to protect my wife and daughter."
"I certainly recommend that an armed guard should be on duty day and
night in any house where you may happen to be living at the moment,"
replied Furneaux airily. "I really think that if your safety alone were
at stake I would do you a good turn by arresting you on suspicion."
"On suspicion of what crime?"
"Of killing Mrs. Lester, to be sure."
"I regard you as a clever man, Mr. Furneaux, so may I remind you that
this is neither the time nor the place for a display of gross humor?"
Theydon expected that Furneaux would flare into anger at this
well-deserved rebuke; but, much to his surprise, the detective treated
the matter argumentatively.
"Personally, I have looked on you from the outset as an innocent man,"
he said placidly. "But, just to show how circumstantial evidence may be
twisted into plausible error, let me point out that nearly all the known
facts conspire against you. Have you considered how dexterously a
prosecuting counsel would treat your admission that Mrs. Lester was the
one person in England who knew of your connection with the revolutionary
party in China? And how would you set about convincing a stolid British
jury that you were acting in the interests of law and order in
concealing your visit to No. 17 on the night of the murder? These
fine-drawn speculations, however, are a sheer waste of breath. Suppose
we concoct an advertisement for the Times?"
"Do you mean that I am to parley with these ruffians?"
"Of course you are."
"But the Home Secretary agreed with me that no action should be taken
until the Chinese Legation had considered the matter."
"And, pray, what can the Legation do?"
"They have their own sources of information. When all is said and done,
Orientals are best fitted to deal with Orientals."
Furneaux laughed sarcastically.
"If I remember rightly, the way in which the Chinese Embassy dealt with
one of your pet reformers some years ago did not win general approval.
No, Mr. Forbes, we must try and circumvent the wily Chinese by other
methods than torture and imprisonment. Of what avail will it be if this
fellow, Wong Li Fu, is laid by the heels? Isn't it more than certain
that he has plenty of determined helpers? Do you imagine that he killed
Mrs. Lester? Not a bit of it. He will be able to produce the clearest
proof that he was miles away from Innesmore Mansions on Monday night.
Now, let's see how we can get him to show his hand a little more openly.
How would this be? 'Y. M.--Terms can be arranged. J. C. F.' The terms
are, of course, that the whole gang be hanged or sent to penal servitude
and deported."
"One moment," struck in Theydon. "I have something to say before you
decide on any definite action. I need hardly inflict on you, Mr.
Furneaux, an explanation of my silence hitherto. I don't even apologize
for it. Faced by a similar dilemma tomorrow I should probably take the
same line. But, to adopt your own simile, now that Mr. Forbes has come
out of his shell, and admits his presence here on Monday night, my
self-imposed restrictions cease. In the first place, then, Miss Beale
came here this morning--"
"Excellent! I wondered who the lady was," put in Furneaux.
"And, secondly, the gray car which pursued me on Monday seems to have
been partly identified later. A car resembling it in every detail
deposited some one at the Chinese Legation in Portland Place, at an hour
which corresponds closely with its presence here."
"Ah, that is important! I like that! I wasn't far wrong when I sensed
you as an absolute carrier of clew-germs in this affair," cried
Furneaux.
"The Chinese Embassy!" gasped Forbes. "What car? And why should any car
pursue you? Do you mean that you were followed on leaving my house?"
It was lamentable to watch the inroad which each successive shock was
making on Forbes's physical resources, but Theydon affected to ignore
the new fright in his eyes, and told him what had happened. Although he
could see that Furneaux was in a fever of impatience to learn the later
news, he thought that Forbes should know the facts in view of the
remarkable statement that he had visited the Chinese Embassy that
morning.
In one respect, the recital was a test of the millionaire's professed
readiness to deal candidly with the police. Theydon was half inclined to
believe that the other was still wishful to conceal that part of the
day's doings. But he was mistaken. When he had finished his own story,
and given the taxi-man's version of the gray car's appearance in
Portland Place, Forbes threw out his hands in a gesture of despair.
"If the Embassy people are playing me false I do not know whom to
trust," he said brokenly; "I have just come from there, and they assure
me that if Wong Li Fu and his gang are in London they are absolutely
ignorant of the fact."
"Pooh!" cried Furneaux, snapping a thumb and forefinger. "Don't worry
about that! Put yourself in the position of the Chinese Ambassador. He
can't even guess who may be the ruler of China from one day to another.
Yesterday it was an old woman, today a dictator, tomorrow the mob; who
can foretell what shape the lava erupted from a volcano will take? Bet
you a new hat, Mr. Forbes, that the minute the embassy heard of Mrs.
Lester's murder they put two and two together and kept a sharp eye on
these mansions and on your house. That gray car is nothing more nor less
than a red herring accidentally drawn across the trail. Some cute
Chinaman said 'Hallo! that murdered woman is the wife of Forbes's agent
in Shanghai. Now, let's see what Forbes is doing, and who visits him,
and perhaps we'll learn something.' Want a bet?"
Forbes could not help but recover some of his shattered nerve in view of
the detective's airy optimism. Still, he was shaken and dubious.
"Don't forget that the Chinese Ambassador has no knowledge whatsoever of
my share in the revolution," he said.
"And don't forget that for ways which are dark and tricks which are vain
the heathen Chinee is peculiar," retorted Furneaux. "How can you be sure
that there is not in the Embassy at this moment a full statement of your
payments into the reformers' funds, as well as the list of conspirators
which our friend Wong Li Fu is in search of?"
"I think that such a thing is almost impossible."
"Is there anything really impossible? We used to believe that once a man
was dead he could not be brought to life again. A Frenchman has just
demonstrated that by a judicious application of galvanism to the heart
and salt water to the veins any average corpse can be revived."
Evidently Furneaux was enjoying himself. He sat there, absorbing new
impressions and irradiating scraps of irrelevant knowledge in a way that
would have been full of significance to Winter had he been present.
Furneaux was never so mercurial, never so ready to jump from one subject
to another, as when his subtle brain was working at high pressure.
He actually reveled in a crime which lay on the borderland of the exotic
and the grotesque. Like the French philosopher in Poe's "Tales of
Mystery and Imagination," the savant who read his newspaper in a dingy
Paris room, and solved by sheer force of intellect extraordinary
criminal problems which baffled the shrewdest official minds, he felt in
relation to this particular tragedy that he required only to be brought
in touch with certain contingent forces bound up with it--Forbes, for
instance, and, in a minor degree, Theydon--and in due course he would be
able to go forth and find the master wrongdoer.
Suddenly the millionaire seemed to cast off the cloak of despair which
clogged his energies and impaired his brilliant intellect. He rose to
his feet and involuntarily squared his shoulders.
"Surely we are wasting valuable hours which should be given to action,"
he cried. "I am going to the city and shall arrange for a prolonged
absence from my office. Then I'll hurry home, perfect my defenses, and
defy these murderous curs. My wife must come to London. In a crisis like
this I must have my loved ones under my own personal supervision. I can
still shoot straight and quick, and woe betide any man, white or yellow,
who enters my house unbidden. As for this infernal symbol--!"
He raised a clenched fist, and would have pounded into fragments the
thin fabric of the ivory skull still lying where he had placed it on the
table had not Furneaux snatched it into safety.
"No, no!" protested the detective. "I want that for purposes of
comparison. Kindly give me that typed note, too, Mr. Forbes. It may bear
finger-marks. You never can tell. The cardboard box in which it was
posted also. Thank you. Now, a few more questions before you go. How
much money did you provide for the revolutionaries?"
"Two millions sterling."
"As a gift or a loan?"
"If they failed, I lost every farthing, of course. If they succeeded, I
was to recoup myself by financing the new government."
"But I gather that they have neither failed nor succeeded. China has a
constitution, but the Presidential election was conducted on lines
suspiciously akin to those recently adopted in Mexico."
"Nevertheless negotiations are now on foot for a big loan."
"If you died, what would become of the two millions?"
"They would be lost irretrievably."
Furneaux sat back in his chair.
"That gives one furiously to think," he said. "The gray car comes back
into the picture."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know. But I'll tell you what--the man who first spoke of a
Chinese puzzle as a metaphor for something downright bewildering knew
what he was talking about."
Forbes put a hand to his forehead in an unconscious gesture of
hopelessness.
"My brain is reeling," he muttered. "To think that in the London of
today we should live in abject terror of a band of Mongolian ruffians!
Why do you remain here, man? You vaunt the prowess of your
department--why are you not scouring every haunt of Chinamen in the East
End? Spread your net widely enough, and you will surely get hold of some
minor scoundrel who will talk for fear or money. Bribe him to the point
where he cannot refuse to speak. Wong Li Fu is the only man I fear. Put
him where he can accomplish no mischief, and the rest of his crew will
be powerless!"
"When you come to count up the achievements of my friend Winter and
myself--in the face of stupid but none the less disheartening
obstacles--we have not done so badly in two days," said Furneaux
complacently.
"Can I drive you anywhere? My car is waiting."
"No, thanks. The truth is, Mr. Forbes, I look on you as a disturbing
influence. A man who can talk as calmly as you about dropping two
millions on a crazy project to introduce Western methods into China is
not fitted for the phlegmatic and judicial atmosphere of Scotland Yard.
If I want any money I'll come to you. If not, and all goes well at No.
11 Fortescue Square, the next time I'll trouble you will be when you are
asked to identify Wong Li Fu, dead or alive."
Forbes seemed hardly to be aware of Furneaux's words. He went out.
Theydon accompanied him, and, as they descended the stairs together, the
older man said brokenly:
"It is my wife and daughter for whom I fear. I can hardly control my
senses when I think of these yellow fiends contemplating vengeance on me
through them. Theydon--do you believe in that detective? He is either a
vain fool or a genius. By the way, I forgot to ask him how he found out
that I had received the warning delivered by this morning's post."
"I'll try and worm an explanation out of him. If he tells me I'll
telephone you later. He is an extraordinary creature, but abnormally
clever at his work, I am sure. For my own part, I feel disposed to trust
him implicitly. I wish you had met his colleague, Chief Inspector
Winter. He is the sort of man whose mere presence inspires confidence."
Forbes halted on the step of the automobile and glanced at his watch.
"I shall be home in an hour," he said. "After that I shall not stir out
all day. Telephone me if you have any news. Why not dine with us
tonight?"
Theydon's eyes sparkled. He was longing to meet Evelyn Forbes once more,
but a wretched doubt diminished the glow of gratification which the
prospect brought. Should he, or should he not, tell the girl's father of
the rather indiscreet admissions she had made during their brief talk
that morning?
That minor worry, however, was banished suddenly and forever. Furneaux,
taking the three steps which led from entrance hall to pavement with a
flying leap, cannoned right into Forbes, whom he grasped with both
hands, quite as much by way of emphasis as to check the impetus of his
diminutive body.
"In with you!" he piped. "Tell your chauffeur to obey my orders, no
matter what they are!"
Action, determination, were as the breath of the millionaire's nostrils.
He aroused himself instantly.
"You hear, Downs!" he said to the chauffeur.
Downs was one of those strange beings who have been evolved by the age
of petrol, an automaton compounded, seemingly, of steel springs and
leather. He had long ago lost the art of speech, having cultivated
delicacy of hearing and quickness of sight at the expense of all other
human faculties. The old-time coachman possessed a certain fluent
jargon, which enabled him to chide or encourage his horses and exchange
suitable comments with the drivers of brewers' drays and market carts,
but the modern chauffeur is all an ear for the rhythm of machinery, all
an eye for the nice calculation of the hazards of the road fifty yards
ahead.
At any rate, Downs mumbled something which resembled "Yes, sir," Forbes
sprang in and slammed the door, Furneaux raced round the front of the
car and perched himself beside Downs, and the heavy automobile was
almost into its normal stride before it had traveled twice its own
length.
Theydon was left gaping on the pavement. He saw that the car turned
west, and caught a glimpse of Furneaux's outstretched hand with
forefinger pointing like the barrel of a pistol.
"Fool!" he cried, in bitter self-apostrophe. "Why didn't I jump in after
Forbes? Now I am out of the hunt! I wonder what the deuce Furneaux saw
or heard?"
That concluding thought sent him back to the flat, two steps at a time.
"Bates!" he shouted. "Has Mr. Furneaux used the telephone, or did any
one ring up?"
"No, sir," said Bates, coming hurriedly at that urgent call. "Fust thing
I knew was he was tearin' out, an' runnin' downstairs like mad."
"O, double-distilled idiot that I am!" growled Theydon again. "Why
didn't I go with them!"
As though the gods heard his plaint and meant to crush him with their
answer, the telephone bell sounded at his elbow. Mechanically, he lifted
the receiver off its hook, and immediately became aware of Tomlinson's
voice, with some element of flurry and distress in its unctuous accents.
"That you, Mr. Theydon?" said the butler.
"Yes."
"Have you had any news of Mr. Forbes, sir?"
"Yes. He has just left me."
"Ah, if only I had known, and had given you a call before ringing up the
city!"
"What is it? Can I do anything?"
"It's Miss Evelyn, sir."
"Yes, what of her?"
"She's gone, sir."
Theydon's heart apparently stopped for a second, and then raced madly
into tumultuous action again.
"Gone! Good Lord, man, what do you mean?" he almost groaned.
"A telegram came from Mrs. Forbes, at Eastbourne, saying she was ill and
wanted Miss Evelyn. I tried all I knew to persuade Miss Evelyn to wait
until she had spoken to her father, but she wouldn't listen--she just
threw on a hat and a wrap, and took a taxi to Victoria."
Some membrane or film of tissue which might have served hitherto to shut
off from Frank Theydon's cheery temperament any real knowledge of the
pitfalls which may beset the path of the unwary seemed in that instant
to shrivel as though it had been devoured by flame.
He knew, how or why he could never tell, that the girl had been drawn
into the plot which had already claimed so many victims and sought so
many more. All doubt vanished. He spoke and acted with the swift
certainty of a man tackling an emergency for which he had prepared
during a long period of training and expectation.
"Mr. Forbes may arrive at any moment, Tomlinson," he said. "Tell his
office people to let you know if he goes first to the city. When you
hear from or see him, say that I have either accompanied or followed
Miss Evelyn to Eastbourne. If I do not catch the same train I shall take
prompt measures in other respects. Got that?"
"Yes, sir."
It was easy to distinguish the relief in Tomlinson's utterance, relief
mingled, doubtless, with astonishment that a comparative stranger should
display such an authoritative and prompt interest in the family affairs.
"That is all. Write down my message, lest you omit any part of it."
Theydon rang off.
"Come!" he said to Bates, who had not retired to his den, but was
listening, discreet yet rabbit-eared, to these queer proceedings.
Followed by the man-servant, he darted into the sitting room and did
several things at once.
He unlocked a drawer and took from it a considerable sum of money which
he kept there for emergency journeys, also pocketing an automatic
pistol. Pouncing on an A B C time table, he looked up the trains for
Eastbourne. A fast train left Victoria at 1:25 p. m. The hour was now
1:05.
Meanwhile he was talking.
"Bates," he said, "I promised Miss Beale, the lady who came here this
morning, that my sister, Mrs. Paxton, would visit her this evening, say
about six. Miss Beale is staying at Smith's Hotel, Jermyn Street. Go to
Mrs. Paxton, and see her, waiting at her house if she happens to be out.
Tell everything you know about Mrs. Lester's death, and ask her to take
care of Miss Beale this evening. She will understand. I'll wire her at
Smith's Hotel before the dinner hour, if possible. If anybody calls
here, I leave it to your discretion and your wife's whether or not they
should be informed of my movements. Mr. Forbes or the police, of course,
must be told everything. Miss Forbes is probably in the 1:25 p. m. train
for Eastbourne, and I am going with her. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"I'll wire or 'phone you later."
Grabbing a straw hat and a bundle of telegraph forms, Theydon vanished,
not even waiting to slam the outer door. Bates, who had seen service,
knew that men in time of stress and danger acted just like the detective
and his own employer.
"By Jingo!" he muttered, beginning to assemble the empty coffee-cups on
a tray. "Things is wakin' up here, an' no mistake!"
Theydon was fortunate in finding a taxicab depositing a fare at a
neighboring block. Just before he reached the vehicle a gentleman
hurried out of the building and forestalled him. Theydon dashed up, and
caught the other man by the arm.
"My need is urgent," he said. "Let, me have this cab."
The stranger smiled good-humoredly. He was an American and had not the
least objection to being hustled by a Britisher; indeed he rather
appreciated this exhibition of haste as a novel experience.
"I'm on a hair-trigger myself," he said, pleasantly. "I want to make
Victoria pretty quick. Can I give you a lift?"
"In with you!" cried Theydon. "Now, cabby, half a sovereign if you get
us to Victoria, Brighton line, in 15 minutes. I'll pay all fines."
Then they were off, and the Trans-Atlantic cousins were banged against
one another as the cab whirled round in a sharp semicircle.
"Say!" cried the American, "this reminds one of home. I've been here a
week, an' had a kind of notion that London air was half fog, half dope.
But you're awake all right. Bet you a five spot you're after a girl!"
"I pay," said Theydon, his eyes glistening. "And such a girl! Her
portrait on the paper wrap of a 50-cent novel would sell it in
millions!"
"Gee whiz! Is it like that? Go right ahead, Augustus! Never mind me.
Take this old bus all the way to Paris. I'll find the fares and hold
your hat. But kindly shift that gun into your opposite pocket. You've
dug it into my thigh quite often enough. If you want to get first drop
on the other fellow, shove it up your sleeve!"