DOLLOPS TAKES A HAND
Meanwhile Dollops had not been idle. He had set himself the stupendous
task not only of discovering the murderer of Miss Cheyne, but what was
more important to his sentimental heart, the finding of the young girl.
Her face, as he had seen it once on that memorable day at Charing Cross
Station, had so imprinted itself on his impressionable mind that it was
little wonder that Sir Edgar Brenton spent many hours in the lad's
company listening to his brief description of her again, and giving
Dollops as clear a word picture of her as any lover could.
"She is dead, the devils have killed her!" he would say in despair, but
this theory Dollops refused to accept at any price.
"Not 'arf they ain't, Sir Edgar, and don't you go fer to believe it," he
would say, when the two paced up and down watching the grim old house
that would have told them so much could it have had human powers of
speech. "Don't you forgit, murder's an 'anging business, and a mighty
uncomfortable sort of business, too, I should imagine. No, sir, 'er
ladyship's 'id away snug and tight, mark my words, till it's safe to let
'er go, and it's up to _us_ to find 'er. For all Mr. Narkom thinks of is
them blessed jewels, beggin 'is pardon."
"Yes, and the other one, the Headland chap, is just as bad; not a single
effort made to trace my dear girl, only that blessed Purple Emperor. As
if it were worth a hair of her precious head!" stormed Sir Edgar.
Dollops switched round upon his heel and looked up into the angry
countenance.
"Steady on there, sir. Not a word against Mr.--er Headland," said he
with a touch of asperity in his cockney tones. "He's my boss, and the
finest, cleverest chap wot ever breathed, an' if 'e's made up his mind
to find the Emperor, purple or pink, then 'e's quite right, and you may
depend on it he hasn't forgotten Lady Margaret."
Then Dollops went on his own tack, leaving Sir Edgar to enjoy his own
bitter reflections as best he might.
"Not but wot 'e's all wrong though, bless 'is 'eart," said Dollops, when
he was safely by himself, "for if that precious Miss Wynne ain't at the
bottom of it then I'll eat my 'ead, 'at and all."
He was still indignant that Cleek had apparently taken such little
notice of his staggering discovery and capture as she climbed through
the window on the night of the murder, and he had persistently dogged
her footsteps ever since. But for the time being he was keeping a strict
eye on the movements of Cleek himself, and having seen him safely into
the house, he took up his position, squatting in the shadow of the huge
overgrown laurel bushes, prepared to wait till nightfall, if need be,
for such time as his master should emerge.
From time to time his eyes swept ferret-like over the vacant windows of
Cheyne Court, and of a sudden, a sight met them which caused his active
little body to stiffen like a statue. In that deserted house, in an
upper window, there appeared the outline of a woman's figure and
Dollops' heart leapt into his mouth as the dazzling thought that it
might be Lady Margaret herself, crossed his mind.
Dollops gave a praise-worthy imitation of a night-owl, and that Cleek
heard it was soon apparent, for the ballroom window flashed open and
Cleek himself came out. No sooner was he on the step near the lad than a
rather more than usually excited Dollops descended on him.
"For Gawd's sake, Guv'nor, come quick," he said as he laid a tense,
nervous grip on Cleek's arm. "There's a woman prowling round in the
'ouse. How she got in, fair licks me, but she's in right enough and----"
"What's that?" rapped out Cleek, sharply. "In Cheyne Court _now_?
Impossible, my dear Dollops. I locked the hall door behind me, and only
unshuttered the ball room window when I heard you call. It's quite
impossible!"
"It's not, sir," said Dollops, his voice shaking with earnestness,
"there's a woman in that house, sure as I'm standing 'ere on this
blessed piece of ground. She was upstairs herself in that window up
there. I couldn't see her face, first at all, sir--thought it was Lady
Margaret 'erself when I copped a glimpse of 'er, but when she turned
away I could see as her countingance was too broad."
Cleek looked at the boy keenly.
"Was it Miss Jennifer, Miss Wynne again?" he asked. "Try and place the
woman in your mind, lad."
"No, it wasn't, worse luck," responded Dollops, ruefully, for he would
dearly have loved to have caught his erstwhile captive red-handed again.
"I seen 'er this morning, and she's in a blue creepy-crawly kind of
dress wot tears if yer looks at it. But this 'ere female was in a black
dress. I see it plain as plain."
Cleek twitched up an enquiring eyebrow.
"Sure it was a woman and not a Hindoo priest?" he said.
"Certain sure," was the disappointing answer. "You're backing the wrong
'orse there, sir. It was a woman right enough."
Cleek's disappointment showed in his grave face, for in his own mind he
was still inclined to lay the murder and even the abduction of Lady
Margaret, at the door of the priests of Brahma, tenders of the
far-distant Temple of Shiva. He knew the main object of their lives
would be achieved could they but once get into their possession again
the ill-fated Eye of Shiva, known to the European world as the Purple
Emperor.
"Are you _sure_?" he persisted, laying a tense hand upon Dollops' arm.
"Don't jump to a conclusion, Dollops."
That worthy tossed up his carrotty head.
"Not 'arf I ain't, gov'nor," said he, fervently, only wishing in his
loyal heart that it could have been one of them beastly "niggers." He
would cheerfully have sworn them to be snow-white could it give Cleek
any satisfaction. "I see 'er face the second time and it was a
middle-aged woman. Why you didn't 'ear 'er tramping around beats me.
Anyway, she was evidently a watchdog for someone, too, for she looked
right down vicious-like. Lor-lumme, sir, if she ain't there again! Look!
Look!"
Cleek did look, switching round on his heel, and gazing up at the window
on his left. Sure enough, a woman was there, a woman in a dark dress and
with a pale, lined face. She was a stranger to Cleek, as well as to
Dollops, and a chill of excitement went through him at the thought of
what her presence in this house of mystery and death meant.
At a silent signal from Cleek Dollops crouched lower in the bushes.
"Can't be up to much good in there," he whispered with a backward jerk
of his thumb in the direction of the house. "Shall I nip back to Mr.
Narkom and bring him along?"
Cleek pondered a moment.
"H'mn, yes, you might do that, but no, on the other hand, it will look
suspicious. Keep here, out of sight, if you can, and if I don't come out
in half an hour, then you might cut along. Understand?"
"Yes, sir," said Dollops, obediently, but in his own mind he was saying,
"_me_ stay out 'ere if there's going to be any danger for _'im_?"
He watched Cleek's features writhe into the face of the gallant
Lieutenant Deland, so that he should be unrecognizable should he
encounter any one he knew and saw him fit in the heavy key which had
been found for the front door. But it had hardly closed upon his figure
when Dollops was up and round the back to see whether it were not
possible to effect an entrance of his own.
Meanwhile Cleek, his foot on the threshold of the door, took out the
key, and closed the hall door behind him. It was very gloomy within, but
not so dark as to prevent him seeing the figure of a woman, standing at
the foot of the stairs, the woman Dollops had seen but a few short
minutes ago.
He advanced a step forward and raised his chin.
"Who are you?" he said, imperatively. "And what are you doing here?"
"That's what we'd like to know of you," came a harsh, raucous voice
behind him.
Cleek wheeled round sharply, but a moment too late. For once in his life
his customary caution had left him. From the gloom of the door a man's
figure sprang forward, bearing him down by the impetus and the total
unexpectedness of the attack.
A little cry of triumph burst from the lips of the woman as she rushed
forward and helped him bind Cleek's struggling figure with the ropes
which he had drawn from his pocket. When this was done, she turned upon
her companion and spoke to him.
"I thought you were never coming, Jack," she said, looking up into the
sullen though triumphant face of the man whom Cleek had recognized as
the immaculate butler of that day so long ago when he and Constable
Roberts had come post haste to the Court.
"I came as quick as I could, but those fools of police are all over the
place," the man answered, viciously. "As to you, my fine fighting cock,"
jerking Cleek's bound figure to his feet, "we want a little explanation
from you, and we're going to see that we get it. Come along, Aggie,
let's make for the wine cellar. I can do with a drink, can't you?"
Cursing himself for his folly, Cleek was forced to let his captors drag
him downstairs into what were evidently the wine-cellars of Cheyne
Court. How either of his opponents had entered and re-entered the house
was still a mystery to him, and when he looked at their grim, triumphant
faces he wondered dully exactly what was likely to become of him. There
was desperation in their eyes and hatred in their looks. This was a
tighter corner than he had yet experienced. His thoughts were not
permitted to continue long, for----
"Now, my friend," said the man, as he pushed Cleek roughly into a stout
kitchen chair. "What have you done with the girl? Come, out with it!
We've no intention of having dangerous witnesses against us. Tell us
where that girl is, and we'll let you off with your life. But if you
don't----"
Cleek looked as surprised as he honestly felt.
"What girl?" he asked, bluntly.
"Now, then, none of your tricks," snarled the woman with a nasty laugh.
"You know right enough, the girl you drove here and came back in such a
precious stew about afterwards! Lord, how we took you in! A proper old
'do' it was."
She laughed hysterically. "The clever devil! He was a bit too clever,
eh? Didn't get over me, though." Her voice broke, and it was evident
that she had already been drinking heavily.
The man, seeing this, interrupted her.
"Stow it, Aggie, my girl," said he with an oath. "We've had enough of
that. Now, then, you tell us quick or it will be the worst for you."
"If you mean Lady Margaret Cheyne," Cleek said in a calm voice, "you
know more about her than I do. She was in your hands!"
"Yes, and safe and sound, too!" snarled Aggie. "What we want to know is
who broke in 'ere and took 'er away? You're the only person wot's bin
actually near the place, so it's no use your denying it."
Cleek shook his head, and favoured her with a bewildered smile.
"I do, and I give you my oath. I have not seen her since I left her
asleep in the chair upstairs," he responded. "I wish to God I had!
We've been searching for her long enough, goodness knows!"
The man stared at the woman and the woman stared at the man. There was
dismay written large on both their faces. It looked as if a mistake had
been made after all.
"What are you going to do now?" asked Aggie in a breathless whisper. "I
don't believe it--still----"
"Believe it or not, I'm going to finish him," growled the man in
response. "Dead men tell no tales, my girl, and her precious ladyship
won't do us no harm. And as for other things----"
Their laughter filled the vaulted chamber, sending the echoes chasing
back and forth. Cleek's heart sank like lead. So this was to be the end.
This. After all his escapes, all his plans for the precious future with
Ailsa. His soul was sick within him.
"Come, let's have one more drink of the old girl's wine. Pretty good
taste, too, and then we'll put this johnny to sleep for good," went on
the man in a calm, steady voice as though the task of putting people to
sleep for good was an easy matter.
"Are you sure it's safe to leave 'im?" asked Aggie. "There might have
been someone else on the watch."
"Not a soul, my dear. Come on!"
Still laughing, they passed into the inner room, leaving Cleek trussed
up like a fowl upon the floor and utterly helpless to assist himself.
In his anxiety to find the girl whom he had driven all unconsciously
into danger, Cleek had had no thought for himself, and he felt that any
help that Dollops might bring would be too late to save him. The studded
door swung back on its hinges, and all was as silent as the grave it
would so soon become.
Two minutes passed, three--five--perhaps ten, and still the quiet was
unbroken. Cleek, his eyes strained toward the window which he would have
given worlds to be able to reach or drag himself to, waited like a mouse
in a trap.
Suddenly an odd gleam of sunlight came through the dust-laden, begrimed
window, and as it did so, it lit up two tiny shreds of substance which
caused Cleek's heart to leap to his throat. With his unmistakable gift
of memory, he knew from whence they came, he knew now many things.
He knew how Lady Margaret had escaped and also, if his memory served him
rightly, the identity of the person who had assisted her, though for
what ends it was impossible to know.
Suddenly on his reverie a sound broke at last and Cleek braced himself
for the end. To die like this--like a rat in a trap with no chance to
fight for one's self! Well, it was Fate, and he could not quarrel with
it.
But this was no sound of triumphant captor, rather of someone moving
down the stone passage with the greatest of caution. It was so faint
that ears less keen than his might not have detected it. And at first he
thought it was the man come to finish his task or even Aggie, his
companion. Yet at the first soft footfall he knew it was neither of
them. Then inch by inch the door pushed its way open until it was wide
enough to allow the slight body of Dollops to pass through.
At the sight of his master he leapt forward and whipping out a knife cut
the bond that bound him.
Cleek stretched his head luxuriously.
"Dollops, lad, that was a narrow shave," he said with a sudden little
laugh. But the boy's face was grave.
"Quick, sir, for the land's sake. I know a new way out," he whispered,
as he dragged away the chair. "They've drunken themselves blind, but any
minute--quick, sir--come on--come, _do_!"
Cleek did come on, and after one grab at the window, switched on his
heel and sped swiftly and noiselessly in the wake of Dollops. Not so
noiselessly, however, but what some faint sound must have penetrated
even the wine-fuddled brains of the man and woman, for there came the
sound of swift footsteps, a yell of disappointment, then the patter of
pursuing feet which stumbled uncertainly. To Cleek it seemed as if they
must be caught and would have to fight for it. So affecting the quick,
heavy tones of Mr. Narkom he shouted lustily at the top of his voice,
and the house rang with the echoes.
"Come on, lads, we'll find him yet! Down this passage, and here they
are."
And he tramped the stones with his boots till the passage resounded as
with the feet of many men. It was a chance throw, but it had the desired
effect, for with a smothered yell the two turned and fled back to the
wine-cellar. Dollops caught Cleek quickly by the arm.
"Let's get out, sir. Don't stop to catch them till we gets help,"
pleaded he, and Cleek, realizing the futility of attempting to capture
these two members of the Pentacle Gang if he knew anything,
single-handed and unarmed as he was, did as he was bidden. Together they
left the big house by Dollops' new egress, a biggish pantry window
standing conveniently open, and so reached the safety of the grounds.
Despite the rush, Cleek had contrived to snatch at the two fragments
clinging to the cellar window ledge, and a little smile crossed his face
as Dollops uttered words of remorse at having let his precious master
into the trap alone.
Cleek squeezed his arm with an impulsive gesture.
"Dollops," he said, softly. "Be quiet. You've put one more thread into
my hands, and you've saved my life into the bargain. If that's not
enough for one afternoon, then you're a greedier chap than I thought."
Dollops gulped loudly in answer and seizing Cleek's hand, squeezed it
tightly in both his own.
It was not until they had arrived safely at the Hampton Arms and were in
the company of Mr. Narkom himself that Dollops gave vent to his relief.
The Superintendent gasped when he heard their story. "This must be the
rest of the gang," he said, "but how and where they get to puzzles me!"
"So it does me," threw in Cleek, quietly. "There is evidently some
unknown hiding place. What's that? Go back now with you to catch them?
No, no, Mr. Narkom, surely you will give them more credit than that. My
little trick succeeded, but they will not stop to be caught like rats in
a trap. A stronger guard must be kept in future, and I will take care
not to be caught napping myself. By the way, I suppose that you have
seen the authorities about the inquest."
Mr. Narkom nodded vigorously.
"Yes, it is fixed for to-morrow, at the house itself," he said.