Mrs. Lancaster would have accompanied her husband to the library,
but for once, and despite the shock he had just suffered, he showed
some firmness.
"I will see Bullard alone," he said, and left her in the hall.
He entered the library, closed and locked the door, and drew the heavy
curtain across it. But there his spirit failed him, and he seemed to
grope his way to his familiar chair.
Without a word Bullard put the telegram into his hands. It had been sent
off at 8 a.m., the hour of opening for the local post office. It was
addressed to both men, and was brief:
Mr. Craig died nine last night. Funeral private.--Caw.
"Caw must have had instructions," remarked Bullard presently. "One
wonders how much Caw knows about his master's affairs."
Possibly Lancaster did not hear. He kept on staring at the message that
had closed the door on his last hope. Carlotta's suggestion, or rather
command, had been far from grateful to his inclinations, yet it had
forced him towards the less of two evils, and for a few minutes he had
imagined himself with Christopher's cheque in his pocket, immediate
salvation and peace assured whatever it might cost him eventually. And
now this telegram!
Impatiently Bullard touched him on the arm.
"Look here, Lancaster!--there is a train from St. Pancras at eleven, and
it's now past ten. Pull yourself together."
"St. Pancras--eleven? To-night?" Lancaster checked himself.
"No, this morning! We shall be in Glasgow at eight, and a good car will
run us down under a couple of hours.... Lancaster, for Heaven's sake,
wake up! Can't you take in the situation? Listen! Point one: We saw the
diamonds yesterday. Point two: Christopher died suddenly, sooner than
even he expected, and the diamonds, in all probability, have not left the
house--if he ever intended to send them elsewhere. They may even be still
on the table or in the drawer! Point three: The sooner we discover their
whereabouts the better, for if they are in the house we must act on
Alan's will at once, though I'd have avoided that if possible. Alan knew
nothing about the diamonds. Christopher distinctly stated that no one
knows about them excepting ourselves and his servant. Well, if necessary,
we must manage Caw, somehow. Now--"
"But--the clock--"
"Oh, damn the clock--mere tomfoolery! As for Alan's return, if you
persist in doubting what I have already told you"--Bullard lowered his
voice--"I shall be forced to introduce to you the man who--who saw Alan
Craig die."
"Die!"
"Don't get hysterical. At this moment the one thing that matters is that
we locate or lay hands on that green box."
"But I--I can't think to go prowling into Christopher's house, and he--"
"Don't think; I'll do all that's necessary in that way, and we shall have
plenty of time for talk in the train. Now I want your cheque--open--for
five hundred pounds. I'm going to draw the same amount on my own. We may
have to buy things--Caw, for instance. Don't argue. We've got to catch
that train, and I've got to go to the bank first."
Lancaster sat up. "Bullard," he said hoarsely, "I won't have anything to
do with this beastly business."
Bullard smiled. "Very well, Lancaster," he said pleasantly; "I'll take
your cheque for twenty-four thousand and seventy-five pounds."
"My God!" It was the sum he owed the Syndicate.
Moments passed, and then with a white face he got up and went feebly to
the writing table.
* * * * *
In the last hour of the journey they dined. Bullard ordered champagne,
and saw to it that his companion's glass was kept charged. He was not a
little afraid of a general collapse on Lancaster's part, but if such were
imminent, the wine averted it. The physician, however, took little of his
prescribed medicine.
A car, ordered by telegraph, awaited them at the Glasgow terminus.
Bullard, who was known to the hirers, dismissed the chauffeur and took
the driving seat. He glanced up at the big clock, and remarked to
Lancaster, clambering in beside him, that they ought to reach their
destination by ten.
The car rolled out of the station down the declivity into the Square,
thence into Glasgow's longest street, then swarming with pedestrians
and traffic.
"Damn it!" exclaimed Bullard, "the air's frosty. We'll meet with fog
presently."
He was right. They met it before they were clear of the city, and over
the twenty miles that followed it lay thick, blanketing the river and
countryside. Bullard was a seasoned but not a reckless driver; besides
he was no more than acquainted with the road. He drove cautiously, his
impatience escaping now and then in curses. They were nearing
Helensburgh when they came almost abruptly into clear weather. The sky
was cloudless, starry.
"This is better," said Bullard, "but I'm afraid it'll be a case of
routing the estimable Caw from his virtuous couch."
Lancaster struggled out of his stupor of weariness. "Are we nearly
there?"
"Hardly, but we can let her go now. I say, don't sleep; or you'll be too
stiff for anything. Think over what I told you in the train; don't talk."
Five minutes later they were speeding up the Gareloch; still later, down
the west side; then through the village of Roseneath, over the hill into
Kilcreggan; then round the point and up Loch Long side....
At the last, as it seemed, of the houses Bullard slowed down.
"Aren't we going too far?" Lancaster inquired in a voice
unnecessarily low.
"You are no observer," the other returned pleasantly, "or you would have
remembered that there are here first a small wood and then a biggish
field, aFter which we come to a couple of solitary houses, the further
and larger being Christopher's. The other belongs to a doctor--retired,
though I believe he has attended our old friend. As it may not be
advisable to advertise our call more than we can help, we are going to
run the car into the wood--there's a sort of track--and make our approach
on foot. We can do with the exercise."
Within five minutes they started briskly along the deserted road.
"No need to walk on tiptoe," said Bullard with a laugh. "Hardly any one
living here at this time of year. Don't let your nerves get the upper
hand. We're not going to do anything sensational, you know. Cold, isn't
it? We shall begin by requesting the amiable Caw to serve drinks."
"Don't jest, Bullard. I'm honestly hoping that the Green Box was somehow
put away into safety."
"If not, we must rectify the error."
Lancaster sighed. "If the box is there, do you mean to--to--"
"'Pinch' is possibly the word you are hunting for. Expressive if not
pretty. Well, it will all depend on circumstances."
"Bullard, I wish to say that I refuse to take more of the diamonds than
will just pay my debts."
"A thousand thanks, old chap, but I really cannot accept such
generosity." Bullard threw out his hand. "Yonder are the houses, and you
will perceive that the doctor has not yet retired--to bed. Christopher's,
however, looks less hospitable. Never mind! We can take turns at pushing
the button."
"Bullard, for Heaven's sake, let us respect the--the dead."
"And let us refrain from hypocrisies. Come along, man!"
In silence they came to the gates, where Bullard spoke--
"Now remember, all you've got to do is to follow my lead, and not take
fright at anything. Caw may not be alone in the house. It is even
possible that he may have the company of some wretched lawyer fellow who
has been nosing around all day. Come, buck up! You'll feel fitter after a
drink. Allons!"
Taking Lancaster by the elbow, he led him up the gravel path, leaves
rustling about their feet. They mounted the three broad steps to the
closed outer door, and, with a muttered "Here's luck!" Bullard rung the
electric bell.
"Good!" he exclaimed a few seconds later, as a flood of light poured from
the fan-light.
They heard the inner door being opened; then with the minimum of noise, a
large key was turned, and half of the outer door swung inwards. The late
Mr. Craig's servant, in his customary black lounge suit, stood there
regarding them quite calmly.
Bullard had expected at least a word of astonishment, so that there was a
little pause until his own words arrived.
"Good evening, Caw," he said gravely. "We very much regret to disturb you
at this hour, and at this tragic time, but our business is of the utmost
importance. May we have a word with you?"
Still silent, the servant stood aside, and they entered.
Said Bullard--"I need not say that we were both greatly shocked by your
wire this morning. I trust our old friend did not suffer much."
"Too much, sir," answered Caw quietly, turning from closing the door. His
countenance had a bleak look; his eyes were heavy. He stepped past them
and opened a door on the right, switching on the lights inside. "This
way, if you please, gentlemen."
Lancaster showed a momentary hesitation, or confusion, but Bullard
touched his arm and he accepted the invitation.
Caw followed them a couple of paces into the room and stood at attention.
The two visitors remained standing, their hats in their hands.
Bullard had foreseen a hundred difficulties, but strangely enough, he had
never thought of not being admitted to the right room. Nevertheless, his
chagrin was not apparent.
"A few words will explain our unseasonable call," he said pleasantly.
"Our visit yesterday afternoon was partly of a business nature, and we
brought for Mr. Craig's inspection a number of documents which, after
perusal, he returned to us--as it seemed at the time. But in the train,
late at night, we discovered we were one short. And that document is of
such vital importance that we left London again this morning, and have
regretfully disturbed you now. As a matter of fact, it was a pale green
share certificate in our joint names--Mr. Lancaster's and mine--and as we
have sold the shares and have to deliver them two days hence, you will
probably understand the necessity of recovering it immediately. Possibly
you have come across such a document in the room upstairs?"
"No, sir."
"Ah! I suppose Mr. Craig's legal man was here today?"
"No, sir."
"Then nothing has been disturbed?"
"No, sir."
"You will, I hope, excuse these questions, Caw? We are considerably
harassed about the matter. Will you tell us whether there were many loose
papers on Mr. Craig's table last night?"
"None, sir."
"Then he must have tidied up after we left?"
"Yes, sir."
Bullard gave a tiny cough and glanced at Lancaster, who immediately said
in a somewhat recitative fashion:
"I stick to my theory, Bullard, that Mr. Craig, in placing some of his
own papers in a green metal box, placed ours along with them."
Bullard turned to the servant with a frank look of appeal. "A green metal
box. Can you help us, Caw?"
It was on Caw's tongue to reply "No, sir." But in that moment, as it does
with most of us at times, vanity pushed aside discretion. "Yes, sir," he
answered. "I was the last to see inside that box, closing it at Mr.
Craig's request, and I can assure you there were no papers in it."
"Wrong again, Lancaster!" Bullard lightly remarked. Then gravely--"The
matter is so serious, Caw, that I must ask you who has charge of the
papers and so on upstairs?"
"I, sir."
"And to whom are you responsible?"
"My master and Mr. Alan Craig--till the clock stops, sir."
After a moment's pause Bullard said--"Yes, of course, we are aware that
all here was gifted to Mr. Alan; also Mr. Craig mentioned the clock. But
now, would you have any objections to taking us upstairs, on the chance
that our document is lying about where we were sitting?"
Caw considered quickly. To his mind, their story had been damned by the
mention of the Green Box; at the same time, he was quite aware that they
had only to persist in their story to obtain legal authority to search
the room upstairs, and his master had commanded "no police interference."
He felt pretty confident, too, that they would hardly attempt to play the
burglar game in his presence, but he was curious to see how far they
would go, and he was not unarmed.
"Be so good as to follow me, gentlemen," he said in his stiff way, and
led them in the desired direction.
The master's room, though fireless, was warm. In silence they entered,
their footfalls soundless on the heavy carpet.
Bullard halted in front of the clock with its flashing pendulum. "Is this
what he spoke of," he enquired softly, "and when does it stop?"
The servant cleared his throat. "A year to-night, sir."
"Ah! ... And why this--and this?" He pointed first to the ebony slip,
then to the green fluid.
"To prevent its being interfered with; also, no doubt to protect the
jewels in the pendulum."
"Is it the liquid that is dangerous?"
"So I understand, sir."
"Poison?--explosive?"
"I could not say, sir."
Bullard turned to Lancaster, who had sunk into a chair, then back to
the servant.
"I say, Caw," he said, "could you possibly get Mr. Lancaster something to
drink? He's knocked up with the travelling, and it's a bitter night
outside. I could do with something myself."
"Very good, sir," came the reply, without hesitation, and Caw went out,
closing the door behind him.
"Now," whispered Bullard, and made straight for the writing table, taking
from his pocket an instrument of shining steel.
But it was not needed. The deep drawer opened obediently, sweetly.
"Lancaster, we've got it first time!" He lifted out and placed the Green
Box on the table. "The diamonds!" Lancaster got up with a jerk and
shudder. "Quick! Look in the other drawers for the keys."
All the other drawers were locked.
"Then we must take the whole thing."
"Good Heavens! We can't do that! How can--"
Bullard darted to the door and listened. After a moment he turned the
handle gingerly. Then he grinned.
"I'm hanged," said he, "but the artful Caw has locked us in!"
"He suspects us!"
"Can't help it." Bullard sped to the bay window and drew aside one of the
heavy curtains.
"I've got it!" he exclaimed.
Christopher Craig had had a craze for things that worked silently and
easily. Bullard lifted the heavy sash with scarce a sound.
"Switch off the lights and come here!" he ordered. "Don't fall over
things and make a row."
When Lancaster joined him Bullard was leaning half out of the window,
directing the ray from an electric torch on the ground below. An
incessant murmuring came from the loch, filling their ears.
"Lancaster, could you drop that height?"
"Oh, God, no!"
"There's a great heap of gathered leaves there--see! Think! Six hundred
thousand pounds!"
"No, no! If one of us got hurt--"
"Perhaps you're right. There's nothing for it but to drop the box and
collect it when we get out. 'Sh! did you hear something just now?"
Lancaster started and caught his head a stunning blow on the sash. At the
same time he inadvertently knocked the torch from the fingers of Bullard,
who was going to flash it into the darkness behind them.
"Idiot!" muttered Bullard. "Don't move till I fetch the box." He stole
across the floor, feeling his way.
Lancaster, nursing his head, waited--waited until a gasped expletive
reached his ears--
"Damnation!" Then--"Quick! Close the window, draw the curtain!" The
speaker blundered to the electric switch.
Fumblingly, Lancaster obeyed, then turned to face a blaze of light,
Bullard, white with fury and dismay, and the writing table with
nothing on it.