SOME NEW MOVES IN THE GAME
Theydon gazed dazedly at the skull for the best part of a minute. His
state of mind was that of a man, utterly incredulous, who nevertheless
thinks he sees a ghost. Then he recovered himself and laughed angrily,
harshly, because he had not succeeded better in controlling his nerves.
He examined the paper. It bore no writing of any kind. It was precisely
similar in color and texture to the two typed slips which Forbes had
received, but the sender had evidently thought that the skull was
symbolical enough of deadly intent without troubling to add a written
threat.
The ivory skull was an exact replica of its predecessors. The set teeth,
the scowling grin of the gaunt jawbones, the dull menace of the empty
eye sockets, were equally convincing, equally disconcerting.
Lighting a cigarette, Theydon scrutinized the address and postmarks. In
a sense, it was ludicrous to find "Francis B. Theydon, Esq., 18
Innesmore Mansions, W. C.," typed in plain script on the wrapper. What
an unholy alliance of modern science and medievalism! The mind almost
refused to focus itself on the tragic aspect of the affair, yet the hour
at which the package was posted, 5:30 p. m. in the West Strand, showed
conclusively that Wong Li Fu, at any rate, had not sent the death's head
by his own hand, but had entrusted it to a confederate. The notion
brought in its train the departure of Miss Beale from her hotel,
"because she had seen a Chinaman there." "Every little helps," mused
Theydon, "I must let Scotland Yard know."
He went straight to the telephone, and was pleased to hear that Mr.
Winter had reached headquarters. The chief inspector was feeling
grateful, and said so.
"It was very thoughtful on your part to deal so promptly with the
message received by Mr. Forbes," he said. "I meant remaining in Croydon
all night. No one came to the house, of course. Wong Li Fu's note
explained why. Callous and calculating demon, isn't he?"
"Yes. Even more calculating than you are aware. He has included me in
the count now. When I reached home ten minutes since, after gormandizing
with Mr. Handyside, I found the totem of the tribe awaiting me."
"The what?"
"An ivory skull."
"You don't say!" and there was a genuine thrill in Winter's voice.
"Anything else?"
"There was no written legend. I have no doubt the enemy believes that
such a work of art speaks for itself. It does. I am to be exterminated,
I suppose."
A marked pause ensued. When Winter spoke again his tone was grave.
"This is a very serious business, Mr. Theydon," he said. "The worst part
of it is that it seems to be spreading in an ever-widening circle. If it
goes much further we'll be obliged to run in every Chinaman in London,
and sift out the decent ones from the heap until we reach the unpleasant
residuum. Are you worried about things? If so, I'll send a man to mount
guard tonight."
"Not at all, thanks. Bates and I will take care that there isn't even a
joss stick in the flat before we go to bed. But I say, there's another
matter. Have you met Miss Beale?"
"Yes. She came here this morning. She gave evidence at the inquest, I am
told. What of her?"
"I asked my sister to spend the evening with her, and she was so alarmed
at finding a Chinaman as a fellow-guest in her hotel that she is
spending the night in my sister's house."
"A plague on all Chinamen!" cried Winter wrathfully. "After this I'm
dashed if I don't drink Indian tea. However, we'll look him up. Sleep
soundly. Your earlier sins of omission are forgiven you, because you
have done us several good turns today. I'll tell your local police
station that if any pigtail or squint eye is found within half a mile of
Innesmore Mansions tonight it is to be jugged without the slightest
hesitation. Keep the skull safely. Furneaux is collecting them."
"Have you seen him, then'"
"No. But I've heard from him. He has gone home suffering from opium
poisoning."
"Great Scott!"
"O, that's only pretty Fanny's way. He means that he is sick of the reek
of Chinamen. You know his peculiar views with regard to tobacco. If he
has been prowling around among opium dens in the East End all the
evening, I'm sorry for him. But he'll turn up all right in the morning,
looking like a skinned weasel. By the way, it'll interest you to hear
that we have cleared up one minor issue. You remember that Ann Rogers,
Mrs. Lester's maid, was called away by a telegram saying that her father
was ill?"
"Yes."
"The old fellow, who is a bit of a sponge, admits that he was given two
pounds by 'a foreign gentleman' for sending that telegram and shamming
illness during the night. I wish I could put the hoary old rascal in
jail, but his action probably saved Ann Rogers from sharing her
mistress's fate."
"Mr. Winter, has it struck you that the man who devised this scheme,
beginning with the murder of Mrs. Lester and ending, Heaven alone knows
when or where, is an organizing genius of a very high orders."
"You would be surprised if you knew the real extent and scope of this
affair," said Winter. "Some day soon I'll be more outspoken. Goodnight.
If you go out in the morning leave word with Bates where you can be
found if wanted."
Theydon turned from the telephone and found Bates standing beside him.
That stolid and worthy ex-noncommissioned officer was armed with a
red-hot poker. Henceforth his employer saw pretense was useless.
"Beg pardon, sir," said the valet apologetically. "I couldn't help
overhearin' what you were sayin', an' if there's any blinkin' Chinee
hidden in this place I'll put a mark on him he won't forget in a hurry."
Theydon could not help laughing, but Bates was in earnest.
"Once I was stationed in Cork, sir," he said solemnly, "an' we had to
stop a riot. It was then I learnt the reel vally of a red-hot poker.
It's as good as a baynit any time. I've kep' this one handy since Mr.
Furneaux ran out. I do believe he saw a Chinaman."
"He did, and, what is more, arrested him. Well, come on, Bates. There
are not many hiding places in one of these flats. I only hope we find a
Celestial. It would be the fitting finale to a busy day."
But their search was in vain, though they succeeded in scaring Mrs.
Bates badly. It was almost inconceivable that two such men, one a
powerfully-built athlete and the other an ex-soldier, should even
imagine that any marauder could be secreted in the flat; but the
European insensibly credits the Oriental with occult powers, and they
took their task quite soberly.
Singularly enough it led to a discovery bearing directly on the problem
of Mrs. Lester's death. Lending out of the kitchen was a narrow
scullery; here a lift, worked by a wheel on the ground level, delivered
coals by the sack and other heavy parcels.
Theydon glanced at the sliding panel which gave access to the lift.
Obviously he seldom, if ever, visited this part of his domain.
"Can that thing be operated only from the ground?" he inquired.
"O, no, sir," said Bates. "I often pull it up when I want to lower the
dust bin."
"Can you do it now?"
Bates looked surprised at first, then thoughtful. Theydon's words had
suggested a new idea. He opened the panel, tugged vigorously at a rope,
and soon the lift itself, a sort of large cupboard, open at the side,
came in view.
"By gum!" he muttered, gazing at its spacious depths, "I never thought
of that."
"You see what I'm driving at, then?"
"Why, of course, sir. A moderate-sized man could stow away inside there
and hoist himself to any floor. It 'ud be perfectly easy an' safe as
nails. A hundredweight of coal is nothing to it."
"I think we see now at least one method whereby the man who killed Mrs.
Lester could have entered the flat without her knowledge?"
"Not a doubt about it, sir. Nearly noiseless, too, an' if you heard it
working you'd imagine it was meant for the flat beneath, because there's
a whistle to warn us when it's comin' here."
They surveyed the lift in silence for a little while. Then Bates caused
it to descend again, and Theydon examined the rather flimsy device which
fastened the panel.
"I'm not what you might describe as a nervous individual," he said, at
last, "but it wouldn't be fair to your wife and yourself, Bates, if I
didn't tell you I have just received an ugly reminder that the gang
which killed Mrs. Lester has a grudge against me now. Wouldn't it be a
reasonable thing if we drove a couple of screws into that door tonight?"
Bates stroked his chin. The long-dormant spirit of combat kindled in his
eye.
"Better still, sir," he grinned, "let's drive a screw into any one who
comes up in the lift."
"But how?"
"By tying your pistol firmly to the dresser, putting it on a
hair-trigger--I know how to do that, of course--an' letting it plug a
bullet into the right place when the panel is half open."
"Are we justified in taking the law into our own hands?"
"Is any one justified in tryin' to get in here an' cut our throats while
we're asleep, sir?"
Theydon weighed the pros and cons of this thesis very carefully. He
dreaded the possibility of taking a human life, even in self-defense.
Yet against the wretches who had strangled Edith Lester, and coolly
prepared to leave Mrs. Forbes to starve in an empty house until their
revengeful scheme was perfected by full knowledge of the identity of
every man in China, who had assisted in the downfall of an effete
monarchy, what code of conduct would apply unless it were that which
holds sway in the jungle?
"Couldn't we contrive matters so that if the pistol were fired it need
not necessarily inflict a fatal wound?" he said.
"Let's see what we can do, sir," and Bates set to work gleefully on the
arrangements. There was not the slightest difficulty in devising an
efficient means of pressing a trigger with a reduced pull by opening the
door. Any schoolboy could adjust a piece of string to act unfailingly.
By measuring distances, and careful sighting of the pistol when fixed in
position, they arrived at a line of fire which would strike a body
crouched in the lift about the region of the right shoulder.
Then Bates locked the scullery door, put the key in his pocket, and
assured his trembling wife that she might sleep like a top, since no
bloomin' Chinaman could get at her that night. Theydon himself retired
soon afterwards. He was as tired as though he had been trudging steadily
along country roads since daybreak.
When he awoke, it was broad daylight. Around the corners of the drawn
blinds in his bedroom he could see strips of golden sunshine. Glancing
at a clock on the mantlepiece he was amazed to find that the hour was
ten o'clock, so, not only had there not been a raid on the premises, but
Bates had taken the overnight instructions literally, and allowed him to
sleep far beyond the usual hour.
He rose hurriedly, raced to the bathroom and shouted for "breakfast in
fifteen minutes." He was splashing in his tub when the telephone bell
rang, and Bates answered. Within a few seconds the valet was knocking at
the door.
"A Mr. Handyside has rung up, sir," was the announcement. "I think he's
an American. He wants to know if there is anything doin'. He said you
would understand."
"Tell him I'm alive, and will call at his hotel at 11:30."
"Yes, sir."
When Bates brought in the breakfast Theydon was glancing hurriedly
through the morning papers. Some of them contained an allusion to the
Eastbourne incident, but no names were mentioned.
A reference to "developments" in connection with the "Innesmore Mansions
Murder," however, caught his eye. Appended to a brief account of the
inquest were the following paragraphs:
"It may be taken as certain that the police are not altogether at sea as
to the motive of this atrocious crime. Strange as it may seem--the
victim being a young and attractive lady, living unostentatiously and
taking little, if any, part in the social life of London--there is some
probability that Mrs. Lester's death was the outcome of political
revenge rather than an incident in an interrupted burglary.
"At first, every indication pointed to the act of some ghoul surprised
by the unfortunate lady in her bedroom, but we have reason to believe
that graver issues to the community-at-large will be revealed when
Scotland Yard's inquiry is completed. It must not be forgotten that her
husband died 'suddenly' some six months ago in Shanghai. Oddly enough,
the police are now keeping a close surveillance on Chinese quarters in
London, not only in the neighborhood of the docks, but in the
fashionable West. It may, or may not, be a mere coincidence that a
Chinaman was arrested yesterday at St. Albans and lodged in Bow Street.
"There are not wanting other similar 'coincidences' in places so far
apart as a well-known South Coast seaside resort and South Croydon. At
present, the whole matter is nebulous, but striking developments may
take place at any hour, and the murder of Mrs. Lester may yet figure as
one of the most sensational crimes of recent years."
Theydon was reading these discreet but exceedingly well-informed
sentences with much care, when he noticed that Bates had closed the
sitting-room door before beginning to arrange the contents of the tray
on the table. Such an unusual action meant something.
"Well, what is it now?" he inquired, lifting his eyes to the
manservant's impassive face.
"When the milkman come this morning, sir, he told me that a policeman
was found lyin' insensible on the road outside the mansions shortly
after three o'clock," was the answer, conveyed in a low note that
suggested a matter better kept from the cognizance of Mrs. Bates.
"That's a bad job for the policeman; it is nothing very remarkable
otherwise," said Theydon.
"But the milkman heard he was set about by three swells, young gentlemen
in evening dress, sir, who ran away when another constable appeared."
"Very likely. There was a row, and the law got the worst of it. Anyhow,
we were not disturbed during the night."
"No, sir. I was only thinkin' of what might have happened if the police
were not on the job."
"Look here, Bates"--and Theydon's manner was most emphatic--"if you and
I begin seeing shadows we'll soon collect a fine show of Chinese ghosts.
I'm astonished at you, a man who has been under fire."
"Sorry, sir. I thought you'd like to hear the lytest, that's all."
Theydon ate a hearty breakfast, thus proving that the marvels and
portents of the previous day had not begun to undermine his
constitution. Finding he had time, after attending to his
correspondence, to walk to Handyside's hotel in the Strand, he did so.
The American was awaiting him at the end of a long, thin cigar.
"Any noos?" said the Chicagoan, after a cheerful greeting.
"Yes. The feud continues. You heard about those ivory skulls yesterday?"
"Yes, sir. They reminded me of the tales of my youth."
"Well, I got mine last night. Here it is!"
"Gee whiz!"
Handyside took the small object which Theydon produced from a waistcoat
pocket. He examined it with minute care.
"I've never crossed the Pacific," he said, after apparently satisfying
himself as to the exact nature of the unpleasant token, "but one of my
hobbies is the collection of ivories. In my home--"
"21,097 Park Avenue," interrupted Theydon.
"Just so--four doors short of 211th Street. Well, sir, when you blow in
there you'll see a roomful of curios. I'm not exactly a connoisseur, but
I know enough to tell Japanese work from Chinese. This was made by a
Jap. And that reminds me. You said last night that Wong Li Fu put you
off your balance by a jiu jitsu trick and handed that husky detective
some, too. Very few Chinks have ever even heard of jiu jitsu. I've a
notion that a bunch of Japs is mixed up in this business."
"Surely not?"
"It's possible. You good people here are crazy in your treatment of the
Japanese. You think they're civilized because they dress in good shape,
and can put up a mighty spry imitation of Western ways. But they ain't.
They're the greatest menace to Europe that has yet come up on the tape.
Do you believe they want China to wake up and organize before they're
ready to take hold? No, sir. Anyhow, that skull was carved by a Japanese
artist, and a bully good one at that."
The two were standing near the fireplace of a square and spacious foyer.
There were plenty of people in the place, some conversing with friends,
others writing or doing business at the various bureaus. It chanced that
Theydon faced the two swing doors which led to the street, and he was
returning the bit of ivory to his pocket when, somewhat to his surprise,
Furneaux entered.
The detective saw him, too--of that he was quite certain--but ignored
him completely. After one sharp, comprehensive glance around, as though
he were seeking some one who was not visible, the little man went to a
desk, scribbled a note, handed it in at the inquiry office, walked
swiftly in the direction of an anteroom and restaurant, and disappeared
forthwith.
Theydon was puzzled by Furneaux's behavior, but was quick to perceive
that if the latter had not wished to be left alone he would at least
have made some sign of recognition.
A page approached Mr. Handyside.
"Note for you, sir," he said.
The American opened the envelope and read a few lines scribbled on a
sheet of note-paper. He passed it to Theydon.
"The circus is now about to commence," he said, and the meaning of this
enigmatical remark was made clear when Theydon saw what was written.
"Dear Sir," it ran, "take Mr. Theydon to your room. I'll join you there
immediately.--C. F. Furneaux."
"If this is the little sleuth who was missing yesterday I guess we've
gotten our call," commented Handyside, with an amused grin at the
expression of bewilderment on his companion's face.
"I was just about to tell you that Furneaux had come in and crossed the
hall."
"Well, let's beat it to the third floor. I have the key in my pocket."
They were walking through a long corridor when Furneaux appeared at the
other end. Beyond the three men, not another person was visible in that
part of the hotel, and in a few seconds they were behind the closed door
of Handyside's room.
"So you're still on the map?" said the detective, surveying Theydon with
an air of professional interest.
"Yes, but I have received notice to quit," was the retort.
"So I hear. The executioner was quick on the heels of the warrant, too.
If it had not been for the precautions Winter took last night the
newsboys would have been bawling a second Innesmore Mansions tragedy
during the past couple of hours."
Theydon smiled.
"I'm not joking," snapped Furneaux. "In fact, I feel rather bad about
it. I woke up at eight o'clock, and pictured you and Bates and his wife
lying about in No. 18 in very uncomfortable and ungainly attitudes. I
was so worried and miserable that I telephoned your hall porter to learn
the worst, and was quite astonished when he said that Bates had just
been chatting with him. You don't understand, of course. I forgot to
tell you about the lift. Wong Li Fu's special delegate climbed into No.
17 by that means and three of 'em would have reached you last night in
the same way if a policeman hadn't met them in the street."
"My man heard about the row. He guessed, too, that it had something to
do with us. The policeman was badly injured, he was told."
"Yes--nothing broken; he was put to sleep by some confounded Japanese
wrestling trick."
"Japanese, you say?"
"Precisely. The Young Manchus are being backed up by a second gang which
calls itself the 'Sons of Nippon.' I don't know what London is coming
to. We've entertained Anarchists, Nihilists and Dynamitards for years.
Now we have the Yellow Peril with us. I wish I were King for a few days.
There would be a bigger clearance of reptiles out of England than St.
Patrick made in Ireland."
"Mr. Handyside here told me only ten minutes since that he was convinced
there were Japs in league with the Chinese."
"How did you know?" and Furneaux whirled round on the American
instantly.
"By using the gray matter at the back of my head," was the reply. "No
Chink ever taught Wong Li Fu how to put away two chesty individuals like
Mr. Theydon and your painter, Mr. Winter. But I couldn't be sure till I
had seen the ivory skull. Then I knew."
"So did I know yesterday morning," said Furneaux, "and a deuce of a time
the discovery gave me. Anyhow, the street fight outside Innesmore
Mansions at daybreak today settles the matter. There were two Japanese
and one Chinaman. The Japs outed the policeman. Fortunately he and
another man made a five-minute point at each end of the mansions, and,
as No. 1 failed to turn up, No. 2 went to look for him. He saw the end
of the row, and ran to help, blowing his whistle for assistance.
Unfortunately for us, two of the three confounded blackguards escaped."
"O, you've got one, then?" cried Theydon.
"Yes, a Jap. The constable was wise enough to give him the point of his
truncheon in the gullet, and that settled him."
"I wonder if he is the one who would have been shot had he broken into
my flat," said Theydon musingly.
"Shot! Man alive, you'd never have heard him!"
"Not till he had a bullet lodged securely in his inside, it is true.
Bates and I surveyed that lift last night, Mr. Furneaux, and regarded it
as the weak part of our defenses, so we arranged that an automatic
pistol should live up to its name, and fire at any one who opened the
sliding panel."
"Did you now?" said Furneaux admiringly. "Whose brainy idea was
that--yours or Bates's?"
"A joint effort," he said, with a self-satisfied smile.
"Well, I'm glad it didn't come off. British law is a fearsome and
wonderful thing. You might both have got ten years for fixing a
man-trap, to wit, a lethal engine. However, during the next few days
you're going to change your abode. Tell Bates and his wife that they
need a holiday, and ought to visit relatives in Yorkshire or North
Wales. Pack what you need for a week, at least, and make straight for
Fortescue Square."
"Are you joking?" said Theydon, genuinely astounded.
"Do I look it?" And, indeed, the detective did not. "Winter has just
settled that program with Mr. Forbes. You see, you're in this affair
now, neck and crop, and it's easier for us to safeguard one place than
two. You're pleased, aren't you? Doesn't a pretty girl live there?"
"Sir," said Handyside, "he's tickled to death, and that's a fact. I'm
the only one to make a kick. I kind of reckoned on being allowed to play
a walking-on part in this drama, but I look like being cut out in the
new shuffle."
"I can make use of you," said Furneaux promptly. "You've seen Wong Li
Fu, and would know him again?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you can tell a Japanese from a Chinaman at sight?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. You're enrolled. Next thing you'll be receiving an ivory skull,
too. These beggars are the smartest crowd I've come across in twenty
years. I think they would have beaten us if it hadn't happened that Mr.
Theydon and you, each of you strangers to the Forbes family, were
selected by fate to intervene at psychological moments. The Young
Manchus and their allies had the ground surveyed thoroughly. They even
had us of the Yard marked down. Oh, it's a plot and a half, I can assure
you, and the worst thing is that the real struggle is yet ahead. All
that has happened before is mere skirmishing compared with what's to
come."
"Is that why you covered up your tracks, even in this hotel, before you
came to my room?" inquired Handyside.
"It is, and let me tell you that you're a living example of a
contradiction in terms. You use your brains, Mr. Handyside, yet you
smoke a cigar calculated to atrophy the keenest intellect. You, an
American, chewing a vile Burmese Cheroot! _Cre' nom d'un pipe!_ When
this bubble has burst I must reason with you!"