THE SEVEN DIALS CLUB
Bundle reached 14 Hunstanton Street about 6 P.M. At that hour,
as she rightly judged, the Seven Dials Club was a dead spot. Bundle's
aim was a simple one. She intended to get hold of the ex-footman
Alfred. She was convinced that once she had got hold of him the rest
would be easy. Bundle had a simple autocratic method of dealing with
retainers. It seldom failed, and she saw no reason why it should fail
now.
The only thing of which she was not certain was how many people
inhabited the club premises. Naturally she wished to disclose her
presence to as few people as possible.
Whilst she was hesitating as to her best line of attack, the problem
was solved for her in a singularly easy fashion. The door of No. 14
opened and Alfred himself came out.
"Good-afternoon, Alfred," said Bundle pleasantly.
Alfred jumped.
"Oh! good-afternoon, your ladyship. I--I didn't recognize your ladyship
just for a moment."
Paying a tribute in her own mind to her maid's clothing, Bundle
proceeded to business.
"I want a few words with you, Alfred? Where shall we go?"
"Well--really, my lady--I don't know--it's not what you might call a
nice part round here--I don't know, I'm sure--"
Bundle cut him short.
"Who's in the club?"
"No one at present, my lady."
"Then we'll go in there."
Alfred produced a key and opened the door. Bundle passed in. Alfred,
troubled and sheepish, followed her. Bundle sat down and looked
straight at the uncomfortable Alfred.
"I suppose you know," she said crisply, "that what you're doing here is
dead against the law?"
Alfred shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
"It's true as we've been raided twice," he admitted. "But nothing
compromising was found, owing to the neatness of Mr. Mosgorovsky's
arrangements."
"I'm not talking of the gambling only," said Bundle. "There's more than
that--probably a great deal more than you know. I'm going to ask you a
direct question, Alfred, and I should like the truth, please. _How much
were you paid for leaving Chimneys?_"
Alfred looked twice round the cornice as though seeking for
inspirations, swallowed three or four times, and then took the
inevitable course of a weak will opposed to a strong one.
"It was this way, your ladyship. Mr. Mosgorovsky, he come with a
party to visit Chimneys on one of the show days. Mr. Tredwell, he
was indisposed like--an ingrowing toe-nail as a matter of fact--so
it fell to me to show the parties over. At the end of the tour, Mr.
Mosgorovsky, he stays behind the rest, and after giving me something
handsome, he falls into conversation."
"Yes," said Bundle encouragingly.
"And the long and the short of it was," said Alfred, with a sudden
acceleration of his narrative, "that he offers me a hundred pound
down to leave that instant minute and to look after this here club.
He wanted someone as was used to the best families--to give the place
a tone, as he put it. And, well, it seemed flying in the face of
providence to refuse--let alone that the wages I get here are just
three times what they were as second footman."
"A hundred pounds," said Bundle. "That's a very large sum, Alfred. Did
they say anything about who was to fill your place at Chimneys?"
"I demurred a bit, my lady, about leaving at once. As I pointed out,
it wasn't usual and might cause inconvenience. But Mr. Mosgorovsky,
he knew of a young chap--been in good service and ready to come any
minute. So I mentioned his name to Mr. Tredwell and everything was
settled pleasant like."
Bundle nodded. Her own suspicions had been correct and the _modus
operandi_ was much as she had thought it to be. She essayed a further
inquiry.
"Who is Mr. Mosgorovsky?"
"Gentleman as runs this club. Russian gentleman. A very clever
gentleman too."
Bundle abandoned the getting of information for the moment and
proceeded to other matters.
"A hundred pounds is a very large sum of money, Alfred."
"Larger than I ever handled, my lady," said Alfred with simple candour.
"Did you never suspect that there was something wrong?"
"Wrong, my lady?"
"Yes. I'm not talking about the gambling. I mean something far more
serious. You don't want to be sent to penal servitude, do you, Alfred?"
"Oh, Lord, my lady, you don't mean it?"
"I was at Scotland Yard the day before yesterday," said Bundle
impressively. "I heard some very curious things. I want you to help me,
Alfred, and if you do, well--if things go wrong, I'll put in a good
word for you."
"Anything I can do, I shall be only too pleased, my lady. I mean, I
would anyway."
"Well, first," said Bundle, "I want to go all over this place--from top
to bottom."
Accompanied by a mystified and scared Alfred, she made a very thorough
tour of inspection. Nothing struck her eye till she came to the gaming
room. There she noticed an inconspicuous door in a corner, and the door
was locked.
Alfred explained readily.
"That's used as a getaway, your ladyship. There's a room and a door on
to a staircase what comes out in the next street. That's the way the
gentry goes when there's a raid."
"But don't the police know about it?"
"It's a cunning door, you see, my lady. Looks like a cupboard, that's
all."
Bundle felt a rising excitement.
"I must get in here," she said.
Alfred shook his head.
"You can't, my lady; Mr. Mosgorovsky, he has the key."
"Well," said Bundle, "there are other keys."
She perceived that the lock was a perfectly ordinary one which probably
could be easily unlocked by the key of one of the other doors. Alfred,
rather troubled, was sent to collect likely specimens. The fourth that
Bundle tried fitted. She turned it, opened the door and passed through.
She found herself in a small, dingy apartment. A long table occupied
the centre of the room with chairs ranged round it. There was no other
furniture in the room. Two built-in cupboards stood on either side of
the fireplace. Alfred indicated the nearer one with a nod.
"That's it," he explained.
Bundle tried the cupboard door, but it was locked, and she saw at once
that this lock was a very different affair. It was of the patent kind
that would only yield to its own key.
"'Ighly ingenious, it is," explained Alfred. "It looks all right when
opened. Shelves, you know, with a few ledgers and that on 'em. Nobody'd
ever suspect, but you touch the right spot and the whole thing swings
open."
Bundle had turned round and was surveying the room thoughtfully. The
first thing she noticed was that the door by which they had entered was
carefully fitted round with baize. It must be completely soundproof.
Then her eyes wandered to the chairs. There were seven of them, three
each side and one rather more imposing in design at the head of the
table.
Bundle's eyes brightened. She had found what she was looking for. This,
she felt sure, was the meeting place of the secret organization. The
place was almost perfectly planned. It looked so innocent--you could
reach it just by stepping through from the gaming room, or you could
arrive there by the secret entrance--and any secrecy, any precautions
were easily explained by the gaming going on in the next room.
Idly, as these thoughts passed through her mind, she drew a finger
across the marble of the mantelpiece. Alfred saw and misinterpreted the
action.
"You won't find no dirt, not to speak of," he said. "Mr. Mosgorovsky he
ordered the place to be swept out this morning, and I did it while he
waited."
"Oh!" said Bundle, thinking very hard. "This morning, eh?"
"Has to be done sometimes," said Alfred. "Though the room's never what
you might call used."
Next minute he received a shock.
"Alfred," said Bundle, "you've got to find me a place in this room
where I can hide."
Alfred looked at her in dismay.
"But it's impossible, my lady. You'll get me into trouble and I'll lose
my job."
"You'll lose it anyway when you go to prison," said Bundle unkindly.
"But as a matter of fact, you needn't worry, nobody will know anything
about it."
"And there ain't no place," wailed Alfred. "Look round for yourself,
your ladyship, if you don't believe me."
Bundle was forced to admit that there was something in this argument.
But she had the true spirit of one undertaking adventures.
"Nonsense," she said with determination. "There has _got_ to be a
place."
"But there ain't one," wailed Alfred.
Never had a room shown itself more unpropitious for concealment. Dingy
blinds were drawn down over the dirty window panes, and there were no
curtains. The window sill outside, which Bundle examined, was about
four inches wide! Inside the room there were the table, the chairs and
the cupboards.
The second cupboard had a key in the lock. Bundle went across and
pulled it open. Inside were shelves covered with an odd assortment of
glasses and crockery.
"Surplus stuff as we don't use," explained Alfred. "You can see for
yourself, my lady, there's no place here as a cat could hide."
But Bundle was examining the shelves.
"Flimsy work," she said. "Now then, Alfred, have you got a cupboard
downstairs where you could shove all this glass? You have? Good. Then
get a tray and start to carry it down at once. Hurry--there's no time
to lose."
"You can't, my lady. And it's getting late, too. The cooks will be here
any minute now."
"Mr. Mosgo-what-not doesn't come till later, I suppose?"
"He's never here much before midnight. But, oh, my lady--"
"Don't talk so much, Alfred," said Bundle. "Get that tray. If you stay
here arguing, you _will_ get into trouble."
Doing what is familiarly known as "wringing his hands," Alfred
departed. Presently he returned with a tray, and having by now realized
that his protests were useless, he worked with a nervous energy quite
surprising.
As Bundle had seen, the shelves were easily detachable. She took them
down, ranged them upright against the wall, and then stepped in.
"H'm," she remarked. "Pretty narrow. It's going to be a tight fit. Shut
the door on me carefully, Alfred--that's right. Yes, it can be done.
Now I want a gimlet."
"A gimlet, my lady?"
"That's what I said."
"I don't know--"
"Nonsense, you must have a gimlet--perhaps you've got an auger as well.
If you haven't got what I want, you'll have to go out and buy it, so
you'd better try hard to find the right thing."
Alfred departed and returned presently with quite a creditable
assortment of tools. Bundle seized what she wanted and proceeded
swiftly and efficiently to bore a small hole at the level of her
right eye. She did this from the outside so that it should be less
noticeable, and she dared not make it too large lest it should attract
attention.
"There, that'll do," she remarked at last.
"Oh! but, my lady, my lady--"
"Yes?"
"But they'll find you--if they should open the door."
"They won't open the door," said Bundle, "because you are going to lock
it and take the key away."
"And if by chance Mr. Mosgorovsky should ask for the key?"
"Tell him it's lost," said Bundle briskly. "But nobody's going to worry
about this cupboard--it's only here to attract attention from the other
one and make a pair. Go on, Alfred, someone might come at any time.
Lock me in and take the key and come and let me out when everyone's
gone."
"You'll be taken bad, my lady. You'll faint--"
"I never faint," said Bundle. "But you might as well get me a cocktail.
I shall certainly need it. Then lock the door of the room again--don't
forget--and take all the door keys back to their proper doors. And,
Alfred--don't be too much of a rabbit. Remember, if anything goes
wrong, I'll see you through."
"And that's that," said Bundle to herself when, having served the
cocktail, Alfred had finally departed.
She was not nervous lest Alfred's nerve should fail and he should
give her away. She knew that his sense of self-preservation was far
too strong for that. His training alone helped him to conceal private
emotions beneath the mask of the well-trained servant.
Only one thing worried Bundle. The interpretation she had chosen to put
upon the cleaning of the room that morning might be all wrong. And if
so--Bundle sighed in the narrow confines of the cupboard. The prospect
of spending long hours in it for nothing was not attractive.