POLICE METHODS
We dallied with the question and I thought he was going to repudiate my
suggestion; but after a slight pause his manner became official.
“If you recognize me, there is no reason for further concealment. We
are in possession of the house and my object was to learn the purpose
of your visit. I invite you to tell it me plainly.”
“It is merely personal and private. If I leave Warsaw to-morrow, I
shall not have another opportunity to see my friend.”
“A mere friendly call? At such an hour as this? On one of the leaders
of the conspiracy which is threatening the whole city?”
“It is no novel experience for me to make a statement which at the time
is not believed by the agents of your Department and to have the truth
proved later.”
“Where have you come from?”
“I dined at the _Hotel Vladimir_ about a couple of hours ago; since
then I have been in the streets.”
“Also for private and personal purposes?”
“I am an Englishman and always interested in watching the results of
misgovernment. A mere personal interest, of course.”
He liked this no better than I intended. “Your visit here to-night
is full of suspicion, sir, and the account of your movements very
difficult to believe.”
“In England such a remark would be treated as an impertinence; but
there we manage matters differently, and even police officials speak
the language of courtesy.”
“This is not England,” he said with a sneer.
“Thank God that at least is true. But all the same, need we ruffle one
another’s tempers? I am ready to do what you wish, I can’t help myself,
of course.”
“What is your address?”
“The night before last I was a guest of your Department in the fortress
of Kreuzstadt. Last night I stayed at the house of my friend, General
von Eckerstein. To-night I meant to ask Ladislas to put me up; and
to-morrow I might be on my way to God’s country once more. As it is,
I shall return to the _Hotel Vladimir_, unless of course you have
any----” and I waved my hand to indicate that he might like to finish
the sentence.
“My instructions are to send all who come to this house to the
Department. One of my men will accompany you.”
“I am ready,” I answered, curtly. “It is a pity you did not act on your
instructions before and save time, instead of trying to trick me into
admissions.”
“You can make your explanations there, sir, and lodge any complaint
you please,” he replied; and in a few minutes I was on my way to the
Department in charge of one of his subordinates.
“You are an Englishman?” he said, after he had been eyeing me very
curiously for some time.
“Yes, with no great opinion of your methods of government.”
“From London?”
“Yes, from London.”
“I have been in London,” he answered in excellent English.
“I wonder you ever came back here, then.”
“I was some time there, in Soho. It was in London, I suppose, you met
Count Ladislas Tuleski?”
“There and in other places. Has he been arrested to-night?”
“No. He would have been, but some one gave him notice that his house
was to be raided; and of course he fled.” He laughed as though this
were a joke.
“Strange how these official secrets get tapped?” I said.
“The Fraternity has friends in many quarters.”
“Has it?”
He laughed again, rather drily, this time, and answered with a shrewd
glance. “Of course you don’t know. Any one calling at the Count’s house
at such a time would not.”
What was he driving at? His manner suggested more than a mere desire to
pump me. I made no reply, waiting for him to develop the thing.
“My name is Christian Burski. You may know it,” he said next.
“How should I, an Englishman, know the names of the Warsaw police?”
He laughed at this first and then said meaningly, “Not of all the
police, of course. But mine is well known.”
“Is it? I don’t envy you your reputation, all the same.”
“Ah, you have no sympathy with the police.”
“A kind of sport in which I’d rather be hunted than hunter.”
He smiled. “That’s good. I like your way,” he replied; and then
lowering his voice and speaking earnestly, he added: “Is this visit to
Headquarters likely to be serious for you? Are you suspect?”
“One would scarcely go to such a place on a night like this from
choice, I suppose?” I answered lightly.
“There’s a lot of trouble brewing in the streets and it would be easy
for a man to get away from a single guard.”
After a bribe, I concluded. “Will you smoke?” I asked him and handed
him a cigar. We stood to light up and as the match flared between us
our eyes met. “Why do you say this?”
“As a peasant farmer, friend,” he laughed.
I held the match to his cigar and he pulled at it, keeping his eyes the
while on me. “You seem in a hurry,” I answered, laughing in my turn.
“Immediate,” came the due response.
“Your name?”
Up went his left hand as he gave me the sign. “In the eye of God.”
I thrust out my hand.
He looked at me steadily and would not take it. It was proof enough.
“Did you give notice of the raid?”
He nodded. “Yes. If you don’t wish to go to the Department, we’ll get
into one of these crowds; you can knock me over and get away.”
I thought quickly. “I don’t think it matters. But you can help me in
a much more important affair. Have we a friend in Colonel Bremenhof’s
house--his private house?”
“I am there myself,” he answered, with his dry smile.
“Could you get me admittance?”
“No, impossible.”
“If I were once inside could you help me?”
“At the risk of both our lives.”
“When will you be there?”
“To-morrow, I expect. To-night, the raids on the Fraternity leaders
have brought every special among us on duty. To-morrow, the military
will be called out.”
“If I am not detained at the Department to-night, could you bring me a
police uniform to the _Hotel Vladimir_?”
“Yes. One of mine. We are pretty much the same height. By whose
orders?”
“To serve Count Tuleski. There are certain papers in Colonel
Bremenhof’s safe which we must have.”
“Impossible,” he said, with a shake of the head. “He carries the key
always; and when he is absent a man is always posted in the room.”
“Which room is it?”
“The library. The room at the back of the house on your left as you
enter. But there are usually half a dozen men on guard in the house.”
“At what time after dusk does the Colonel return home?”
“At six--he dines with his mother and sister.”
“If you see me in the house to-morrow you will contrive to be on hand,
should any one be called by him. That is all. God keep us all,” I said,
remembering Jacob Posen’s parting salutation at Kervatje.
“God keep us all,” he repeated.
We reached the Department soon afterwards and after a short delay I
was taken in to Bremenhof, who received me with a half-suppressed,
malicious chuckle. My guard, Burski, reported that I had called at
Ladislas’ house and the explanation I had given.
Bremenhof sent him out of the room. “I scarcely expected to see you
here again so soon,” he said, when we were alone. “We have another
charge waiting for you.”
“I can answer any charge.”
“Do you wish to communicate with your friends this time?” he sneered.
“Scarcely so, I imagine. General von Eckerstein pledged himself that
you were no revolutionary. Why then did I find you at the Drakonas’
house this afternoon; why did you aid the escape of a suspect; and
follow it with this night visit to the house of a Fraternity leader?”
I smiled. “You are not alarming me, Colonel Bremenhof. I am no
revolutionary. I went to the Drakonas’ house because my friend Count
Ladislas Tuleski urged me to help him in protecting from you the woman
he hopes to marry--Volna Drakona; I helped her to escape when you sent
to arrest her; and I went to my friend’s house to tell him what I had
done.”
“The woman _he_ is to marry?” he exclaimed with a scowl. Then with a
vicious curl of the lip: “So you admit that you helped in this escape?”
“Why should I deny it? You have the proofs. Your man would identify
me. You can charge me with the offence, but of course in that case the
reasons for the suspect’s arrest must be gone into fully. And you see I
know them thoroughly.”
He saw his dilemma. “I did not say I should charge you, only that
you have now committed an act which at such a time of crisis carries
serious consequences.”
It was my turn to chuckle; but I had more to gain than merely turn the
tables on him.
“I have done nothing which I am not perfectly willing to make known
publicly anywhere. When I learned my friend’s sentiments and hopes in
regard to Miss Drakona, my own object was instantly changed. But for
his persistence, I should probably have left Warsaw to-day.”
This drew a long, keen, searching look on me. “Does Miss Drakona know
this?”
“Of course.”
“Are you aware of the charges against Count Tuleski? That if made good,
they may involve a life sentence, or at least, Siberia?”
“Why do you tell me this?”
“You are shrewd enough to understand, Mr. Anstruther.”
“I will not discuss such a question.”
“If this matter against you is not pressed, will you leave Warsaw?”
“How can I? I have agreed to be examined to-morrow about the Bratinsk
matter.”
He waved an impatient hand. “I can arrange that, of course.”
“I will go on condition that Madame Drakona is at once set at liberty
and the evidence you are holding back is placed in my hands, and that
Miss Volna Drakona is absolved from all responsibility for the affair
at Bratinsk.”
I looked for an outburst of anger at this; but he listened closely and
then sat thinking, a heavy frown on his dark face.
“What is behind that?” he asked after the pause.
“That Miss Drakona must be a free agent to become the wife of my friend
if she will.”
“Free to go to Siberia?” he sneered; “or perhaps you mean to England?”
“There is an end of the thing. I have no use for a man who doubts my
word.”
“You forget how grossly I have been deceived already.”
I made no reply, but leant back in my chair, crossed my legs, and
shoved my hands into my pockets with a great show of unconcern.
“Where is Miss Drakona?” I took no notice. “Can you communicate with
her?” I took a paper from my pocket and began to read it. “If I agree,
when will you leave Warsaw?” I made a pencil note on the paper, folded
it up and put it away with a sigh of weariness.
“I did not mean to doubt your word. I retract what I said.”
“That’s another matter. We can resume. Provided you keep faith with me
throughout. Then, as soon as Madame Drakona is free and you have handed
me the evidence against her and satisfied me that the charge against
her daughter is settled, I will go by the next train?”
“On your word of honour?”
“On my word of honour.”
He thought for a moment. “You can arrange to leave to-morrow night.
There will be certain formalities to settle of course. I will see to
them to-morrow. Come to my private house to-morrow at six o’clock and
I shall be prepared with everything. Are you still with General von
Eckerstein?”
“No. I shall stay to-night at the _Hotel Vladimir_.”
“You can go. Oh, by the way,” he added in a tone of indifference; “your
manservant has been brought here with your luggage from Bratinsk.”
Something in his manner struck me. His indifference seemed forced. “Is
he a prisoner?” I asked.
“Oh, no. Not now.”
“Let him bring my things to the _Vladimir_.”
He struck his table bell. “This gentleman has been brought here
needlessly,” he said to the man who came. “He has certain instructions
to give about his manservant. See that they are carried out.
Good-night, Mr. Anstruther.”
I left the message for Felsen, and as I was passing out I saw Burski.
He gave me a quick glance of congratulation.
“I am going, you see,” I said.
“I did no more than my duty,” he answered, for those about us to hear.
“I have no grudge against you. I hope you will always do no less than
your duty.”
He noticed the equivocal phrase. “I think I can be depended upon,” was
his equally ambiguous reply.
“Good-night. I am going to the _Hotel Vladimir_.”
“It is nothing to me. Good-night.”
I moved off; and just then some one called out--“Burski, the chief
wants you.”
I turned my head at the call; and was just in time to catch his eyes
fixed upon me with an expression which set me thinking as I stepped
into the street and started for the hotel.
It was a look which suggested that the mask was off in that moment.
Had he been just fooling me?