Sunday morning, and the bells of the churches calling to worship.
Fog, thin and yellow, covered the streets. All the lamps in Jan
Steppe's study were blazing, he had the African's hatred of dim
lights and there was usually one lamp burning in the room he might be
using, unless the sun shone.
He paced up and down the carpet, his hands thrust deep into his
pockets, his mind busy. He was too well-equipped a man to see danger
in any other direction than where it lay. In moments of peril, he
was ice. He could not be cajoled or stampeded into facing imaginary
troubles, nor yet to turn his back upon the real threat. All his
life he had been a fighter and had grown rich from his victories.
Struggle was a normal condition of existence. Nothing had come to
him that he had not planned and worked for, or to gain which he had
not taken considerable risks. The risks now were confined to Ambrose
Sault and his fidelity to the trust which had been forced upon him by
circumstances. He was satisfied that Ambrose would not speak. If he
did--
Steppe chewed on an unlighted cigar.
The removal of Moropulos meant an inconvenience Sault scarcely
counted. The Greek was a nuisance and a danger, whilst his
extravagance and folly had brought his associates to the verge of
ruin. When the police arrested Ambrose Sault they took possession of
the house in which he had been found. Amongst other things seized,
was the safe upon which Moropulos had pasted a typewritten notice in
his whimsical language:
TO BURGLARS AND ALL WHOM
IT MAY CONCERN
--------------------
CAUTION
Any attempt to open this safe, except by
the employment of the correct code word,
will result in the destruction of the safe's
contents.
_DON'T TURN THE HANDLE_
Steppe had seen the notice but had not read it. If it had not been
affixed! One turn of the handle and every paper would have been
reduced to a black pulp. He tried to remember what was stored in the
cursed thing. There were drafts, memoranda, letters from illicit
agents, a record of certain transactions which would not look
well--the Mackenzie report! Later he remembered the photograph in
the sealed envelope. Why had Sault gone to the safe? The report he
had had from the police--they had been with him for the best part of
the morning--was to the effect that Sault had been arrested at the
moment he was swinging the dials. What was Sault after? He could
not read: only documents were in the safe.