THE MISSING HANSON
Colonel Dan Boundary descended slowly from the Ford taxi-cab which had
brought him up from Horsham station and surveyed without emotion the
domicile of his partner. It was Colonel Boundary's boast that he was in
the act of lathering his face on the tenth floor of a Californian hotel
when the earthquake began, and that he finished his shaving operations,
took his bath and dressed himself before the earth had ceased to
tremble.
"I shall want you again, so you had better wait," he said to the driver
and passed through the wooden gates toward Rose Lodge.
He stopped half-way up the path, having now a better view of the house.
It was a red brick villa, the home of a well-to-do man. The trim lawn
with its border of rose trees, the little fountain playing over the
rockery, the quality of the garden furniture within view and the general
air of comfort which pervaded the place, suggested the home of a
prosperous City man, one of those happy creatures who have never
troubled to get themselves in line for millions, but have lived happily
between the four and five figure mark.
Colonel Boundary grunted and continued his walk. A trim maid opened the
door to him and by her blank look it was evident that he was not a
frequent visitor.
"Boundary--just say Boundary," said the colonel in a deep voice which
carried to the remotest part of the house.
He was shown to the drawing-room and again found much that interested
him. He felt no twinge of pity at the thought that Solomon White would
very soon exchange this almost luxury for the bleak discomfort of a
prison cell, and not even the sight of the girl who came through the
door to greet him brought him a qualm.
"You want to see my father, colonel?" she asked.
Her tone was cold but polite. The colonel had never been a great
favourite of Maisie White's, and now it required a considerable effort
on her part to hide her deep aversion.
"Do I want to see your father?" said Colonel Boundary. "Why, yes, I
think I do and I want to see you too, and I'd just as soon see you
first, before I speak to Solly."
She sat down, a model of patient politeness, her hands folded on her
lap. In the light of day she was pretty, straight of back, graceful as
to figure and the clear grey eyes which met his faded blue, were very
understanding.
"Miss White," he said, "we have been very good to you."
"We?" repeated the girl.
"We," nodded the colonel. "I speak for myself and my business
associates. If Solomon had ever told you the truth you would know that
you owe all your education, your beautiful home," he waved his hand, "to
myself and my business associates." His tongue rolled round the last two
words. They were favourites of his.
She nodded her head slightly.
"I was under the impression that I owed it to my father," she said, with
a hint of irony in her voice, "for I suppose that he earned all he has."
"You suppose that he earned all that he has?" repeated the colonel.
"Well, very likely you are right. He has earned more than he has got but
pay-day is near at hand."
There was no mistaking the menace in his tone, but the girl made no
comment. She knew that there had been trouble. She knew that her father
had for days been locked in his study and had scarcely spoken a word to
anybody.
"I saw you the other night," said the colonel, changing the direction
of his attack. "I saw you at the Orpheum. Pinto Silva came with me. We
were in the stage box."
"I saw you," said the girl quietly.
"A very good performance, considering you're a kid," said Boundary; "in
fact, Pinto says you're the best mimic he has ever seen on the
stage----" He paused--"Pinto got you your contracts."
She nodded.
"I am very grateful to Mr. Silva," she said.
"You have all the world before you, my girl," said Boundary in his slow,
ponderous way, "a beautiful and bright future, plenty of money, pearls,
diamonds," he waved his hand with a vague gesture, "and Pinto, who is
the most valuable of my business associates, is very fond of you."
The girl sighed helplessly.
"I thought that matter had been finished and done with, colonel," she
said. "I don't know how people in your world would regard such an offer,
but in my world they would look upon it as an insult."
"And what the devil is your world?" asked the colonel, without any sign
of irritation.
She rose to her feet.
"The clean, decent world," she said calmly, "the law-abiding world. The
world that regards such arrangements as you suggest as infamous. It is
not only the fact that Mr. Silva is already married----"
The colonel raised his hand.
"Pinto talks very seriously of getting a divorce," he said solemnly,
"and when a gentleman like Pinto Silva gives his word, that ought to be
sufficient for any girl. And now you have come to mention law-abiding
worlds," he went on slowly, "I would like to speak of one of the
law-abiders."
She knew what was coming and was silent.
"There's a young gentleman named Stafford King hanging round you." He
saw her face flush but went on, "Mr. Stafford King is a policeman."
"He is an official of the Criminal Intelligence Department," said the
girl, "but I don't think you would call him a policeman, would you,
colonel?"
"All policemen are policemen to me," said Boundary, "and Mr. Stafford
King is one of the worst of the policemen from my point of view, because
he's trying to trump up a cock-and-bull story about me and get me into
very serious trouble."
"I know Mr. King is connected with a great number of unpleasant cases,"
said the girl coolly. "It would be a coincidence if he was in a case
which interested you."
"It would be a coincidence, would it?" said the colonel, nodding his
huge head. "Perhaps it is a coincidence that my clerk, Hanson, has
disappeared and has been seen in the company of your friend, eh? It is a
coincidence that King is working on the Spillsbury case--the one case
that Solly knows nothing about--eh?"
She faced him, puzzled and apprehensive.
"Where does all this lead?" she asked.
"It leads to trouble for Solly, that's all," said the colonel. "He's
trying to put me away and put his business associates away, and he has
got to go through the mill unless----"
"Unless what?" she asked.
"Pinto's a merciful man, I'm a merciful man. We don't want to make
trouble with former business associates, but trouble there is going to
be, believe me."
"What kind of trouble?" asked the girl. "If you mean that your so-called
business association with my father will cease, I shall be happier. My
father can earn his living and I have my stage work."
"You have your stage work," the colonel did not smile but his tone
betrayed his amusement, "and your father can earn his living, eh? He can
earn his living in Portland Gaol," he said, raising his voice.
"For the matter of that, so can you, colonel."
The colonel turned his head slowly and surveyed the spare figure in the
doorway.
"Oh, you heard me, did you, Solly," he said not unpleasantly.
"I heard you," said Solomon White, his lean face a shade whiter than the
girl had ever seen it and his breathing was a little laboured.
"If you are thinking of gaoling me," said White, "why, I think we shall
make up a pretty jolly party."
"Meaning me?" said the colonel, raising his eyebrows.
"You amongst others. Pinto Silva, 'Swell' Crewe and Selby, to name a
few."
Colonel Boundary permitted himself to chuckle.
"On what charge?" he asked, "tell me that, Solly? The cleverest men in
Scotland Yard have been laying for me for years and they haven't got
away with it. Maybe they have your assistance and that dog Hanson----"
"That's a lie," interrupted White, "so far as I am concerned--I know
nothing about Hanson."
"Hanson," said the colonel slowly, "is a thief. He bolted with £300 of
mine, as I've reported to the police."
"I see," said White with a little smile of contempt, "got your charge in
first, eh, colonel--discredit the witness. And what have you framed for
me?"
"Nothing," said the colonel, "except this. I've just had from the bank a
cheque for £4,000 drawn in your favour on our joint account and
purporting to be signed by Silva and myself."
"As it happens," said White, "it was signed by you fellows in my
presence."
The colonel shook his head.
"Obdurate to the last, brazening it out to the end--why not make a frank
confession to an old business associate, Solly? I came here to see you
about that cheque."
"That's the game, is it?" said White. "You are going to charge me with
forgery, and suppose I spill it?"
"Spill what?" asked the colonel innocently. "If by 'spill' you mean make
a statement to the police derogatory to myself and my business
associates, what can you tell? I can bring a dozen witnesses to prove
that both Pinto and I were in Brighton the morning that cheque was
signed."
"You came up by car at night," said White harshly. "We arranged to meet
outside Guildford to split the loot."
"Loot?" said Colonel Boundary, puzzled. "I don't understand you."
"I'll put it plainer," said White, his eyes like smouldering fire: "a
year ago you got young Balston the shipowner to put fifty thousand
pounds into a fake company."
He heard Maisie gasp, but went on.
"How you did it I'm not going to tell before the girl, but it was
blackmail which you and Pinto engineered. He paid his last
instalment--the four thousand pounds was my share."
Colonel Boundary rose and looked at his watch.
"I have a taxi-cab waiting, and with a taxi-cab time is money. If you
are going to bring in the name of an innocent young man, who will
certainly deny that he had any connection with myself and my business
associates, that is a matter for your own conscience. I tell you I know
nothing about this cheque. I have made your daughter an offer."
"I can guess what it is," interrupted White, "and I can tell you this,
Boundary, that if you are going to sell me, I'll be even with you, if I
wait twenty years! If you imagine I am going to let my daughter into
that filthy gang----" His voice broke, and it was some time before he
could recover himself. "Do your worst. But I'll have you, Boundary! I
don't doubt that you'll get a conviction, and you know the things that I
can't talk about, and I'll have to take my medicine, but you are not
going to escape."
"Wait, colonel." It was the girl who spoke in so low a voice that he
would not have heard her, but that he was expecting her to speak. "Do
you mean that you will--prosecute my father?"
"With law-abiding people," said the colonel profoundly, "the demands of
justice come first. I must do my duty to the state, but if you should
change your mind----"
"She won't change her mind," roared White.
With one stride he had passed between the colonel and the door. Only for
a second he stood, and then he fell back.
"Do your worst," he said huskily, and Colonel Boundary passed out,
pocketing the revolver which had come from nowhere into his hand, and
presently they heard the purr of the departing motor.
He came to Horsham station in a thoughtful frame of mind. He was still
thinking profoundly when he reached Victoria.
Then, as he stepped on the platform, a hand was laid on his arm, and he
turned to meet the smiling face of Stafford King.
"Hullo," said the colonel, and something within him went cold.
"Sorry to break in on your reverie, colonel," said Stafford King, "but
I've a warrant for your arrest."
"What is the charge?" asked the colonel, his face grey.
"Blackmail and conspiracy," said King, and saw with amazement the look
of relief in the other's eyes.
Then:
"Boundary," he said between his teeth, "you thought I wanted you for
'Snow' Gregory!"
The colonel said nothing.