Читать книгу The Green Pearl - Aidan de Brune - Страница 5

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CARL ROHMER ran round the desk and placed himself between: the girl and Therrold, waving, his arms wildly, and pouring out words in half the languages of Europe.

The Secret Service Agents stood back, watchful. He made no attempt to gather the meaning of the manager's excited torrent of words. He knew that in time the man would exhaust his excitement, and a proper, explanation would then be forthcoming.

"M'sieu! M'sieu!" At length Rohmer dropped into English

"I, Carl Rohmer, am to blame, it is not the young lady—No, she is but an employee of the hotel—the establishment. It is the rule; and m'sieu must pardon that I make it obeyed, that she place herself behind the screen. I—I—myself—I am desolate—despairing. It is my fault, m'sieu. I blame myself that I did send for the girl that she might make for me a record of a story most marvellous."

So that was the meaning of the tapping with the paper-knife. Therrold laughed in relief.

"You gave me quite a scare, Mr. Rohmer. I'm not yet used to civilisation again. S'pose I must offer my apologies to the young lady, for the shock I must have given here. Also to you, Mr.—"

The quick pause made Rohmer turn suddenly.

Therrold was staring at the desk. The manager's eyes went to the blotting pad. On it still rested the square of black velvet—but the Green Pearl had disappeared.

"The pearl!" Rohmer gasped; "it had—!"

He made a step towards his chair to feel the Secret Service Agent's automatic touching his chest.

"Quite so!" Therrold's smile was chilly. "I am beginning to understand. Quite an interesting plot, yet I don't quite fathom the reason for the lady of the night. Did she search for the pearl on her own account, Rohmer, or was she but a decoy to make me betray where she had hidden it? No, you needn't answer, unless you really want to talk—that is at present."

For a few moments the Secret Service Agent stood motionless; his automatic covering the manager and the girl.

Then he laughed, harshly. "Of course, the lady of the night was a decoy. She drove me to you, I was fool enough to let you know that I carried the pearl and—yes, you had your plans ready—that girl behind the screen to draw my attention at the psychological moment. I fell into the trap. Very pretty. Looks to me that I'll have to accuse you of stealing the pearl, Rohmer. You were behind me for a few seconds, while I was engaged in persuading your confederate to come out into the open. Yes, yes! You alone had the opportunity to steal it! But, how do you mean to get away with it? The pearl's in this room, I'll swear to that! Bluff me? I don't think so!"

Again Therrold paused, his keen eyes searching the room and its appurtenances. He lowered his gun and bowed mockingly.

"Rohmer, unless you hand me that pearl at once I shall accuse you of its theft. Oh, I know it's not on you." The agent laughed at the motion of denial from the manager. "I don't have to search you to know that. I don't think it's in the desk, or on it; for you expect, the desk to be searched. The girl hasn't got it; I'm certain of that, unless you two can act quicker than I believe. Is it in the room? You must have guessed that I'd search everywhere—to drop it into one of those delicate pieces of china would be absurd. Well, well, I'll be absurd, just to please you."

With lithe, swift steps the Secret Service Agent moved around the desk and seated himself in the manager's chair, his automatic ready for instant use. For a moment he stared at the pair before him, the hotel manager a picture of distressed dismay, the girl pale, but more composed.

"We may save a lot of unpleasantness—" Therrold hesitated. "Pardon me, I am forgetful. Mr. Rohmer, may I trouble you to place a chair for the lady—before the desk. Miss—er—I haven't the pleasure of knowing your name—will you please be seated. Thanks, Rohmer, you'll find that chair comfortable. Yes, like that! Your hands well in sight, please. Thanks. Now—but it is understood, Mr. Rohmer, that neither you nor the lady attempt to communicate without my consent. Now I'll place my gun on the desk—so. Please remember, I have the reputation of being an excellent snap-shot—and I shan't be careless again, to-day."

He drew the telephone towards him, keeping a keen watch en his prisoners. Calmly, he requested the switch operator to connect him with police headquarters. A few moments and he gained the connection and requested that a couple of detectives be sent to the hotel.

Replacing the receiver he looked up at Rohmer.

"Perhaps I might have asked the direct question, before calling in the police." Therrold's voice was almost careless. "I believe you realise that I command the situation. I can assure you that I possess credentials that will ensure me all the help that I require." He paused, then added suddenly: "Rohmer, have you the Green Pearl?"

The hotel manager shook his head, slowly. His eyes were on the automatic on the desk, but a few inches from Therrold's hand. He was strangely pale, his eyes glittering, dangerously.

"Quite so!" The Secret Service Agent laughed. "And you have no knowledge of where it is. No? Really you are very, stubborn. Mr. Rohmer. Now, Miss—er—well, names don't matter. Have you the pearl?"

The girl shook her head. Therrold frowned. He picked up the paper knife and tapped with it, meditatively on the desk.

"Strange!" The adventurer spoke after some moments meditation. "I was just beginning to feel safe in this big caravanserai of yours—and hearing English spoken around me again. S'pose I relaxed a bit. That gave you the opportunity. Careless, very. Should have remembered that those devils of modern Russia manage to get quite decent people in their employ. No, there's no need to talk, Rohmer, unless you want to tell me where the pearl is. Just keep your hands in your lap and—"

He paused, the paper knife still drumming on the desk. Suddenly, its tapping changed from the rhythmic drumming to an irregular, staccato beat.

Therrold's eyes lifted, staring directly at his prisoners.

"Got that, Rohmer? No?" The man laughed slightly. "Well, it was a simple request, in rather poor Morse, for the return of the pearl. Really, that tapping was a brilliant idea. Didn't use the Morse, or any code. Just the steady beating—and it caught me. I'd have read the Morse, if you had used that."

A knock came at the door. Therrold left the desk and opened the door, peering out. Then he stood back, admitting a couple of men. An hotel attendant, who attempted to follow them, was thrust back and the door locked, and bolted.

"Mr. Rohmer, the manager of this hotel, and the young lady, name unknown, who he states to be his typist." Therrold introduced his prisoners, in response to the bewildered looks of the detectives. "I'm staging something like a hold-up, y'know. May I ask who is in charge?"

"Detective Sergeant Saunders, from headquarters." The elder man spoke brusquely.

"Who are you and what are you doing with that gun?" Sergeant Saunders repeated.

Therrold; he stepped close to the man. "I think this has a meaning for you, Sergeant." He held up his closed hand. As the detective's eyes came down to his closed fingers they opened. On his palm lay a queerly cut and marked disc of gold.

"I understand, sir." The officer glanced sharply at Therrold. "This is plain-clothes constable Browne. May I ask your name?"

"Mark Therrold—" For a moment the Secret Service man's eyes met the constable's. "It happens that I am a guest at this hotel. A bare half hour ago I was seated in this room alone, as I supposed, with Mr. Rohmer. I was lodging a complaint that someone had entered my room during the night. He asked me if I carried anything of value. I showed him a very valuable pearl that I was carrying out to England. I had taken it from my pocket and placed it on a scrap of velvet, on the blotting pad before Mr. Rohmer. I heard a sound behind that screen. At my challenge this young lady walked into the room. After explanations with her and Mr. Rohmer I turned to the desk—to find that the pearl had disappeared."

Sergeant Saunders looked puzzled. A largely-built man, of ordinary intelligence, he had gained his present rank in the service by hard plodding work. Crime was to him but the happenings of the day and to be solved on rigid, orthodox police lines. Happenings of uncommon nature perplexed and confused him.

"Mr. Rohmer is a responsible person, sir," he suggested, after an interval. "I agree." Therrold smiled. "I'm holding him entirely responsible. Only we three were in the room—and he, alone, was in a position to take the pearl, unobserved."

"And the lady, sir?"

"A matter of precaution. Understand, Sergeant, no one enters or leaves this room until I get that pearl back—or am satisfied that it is not in the room, or on the person of anyone here."

"Are you giving Mr. Rohmer and the lady in charge, sir?" Saunders stared at the Secret Service Agent in dire perplexity. He had not the faintest notion of how he should act.

Had it been the case or an ordinary theft—yes; but, here he had been shown an emblem of power that awed him.

"Don't be an ass, man!" Therrold spoke sharply. "I don't want anyone arrested. I want that pearl. Rohmer will not make any fuss at anything you think fit to do. He has his hotel to think of. Now, get busy and find that pearl."

As Therrold turned impatiently from Sergeant Saunders, his eyes caught those of Constable Browne. The man stepped forward saluting sharply.

"S'pose you've forgotten me. Captain Therrold. Sergeant Browne—Tom Browne! Knew you at once, sir."

For a fraction of a second the Englishman looked at the constable. Then his face brightened and he held out his hand. "Thought I knew your face. Sergeant Tom Browne. Say, Browne, can you get some action in this country of yours. I want this room searched for the pearl. If It's not in this room, then it's on someone here—one of the there of us. Shouldn't be difficult."

Browne saluted again and with a muttered word to his superior officer, took charge or the proceedings. Here Sergeant Saunders was on safe ground and showed great ability. Therrold watched with keen admiration, yet with sinking hopes. The pearl was not in the room. At length the young man went to where the Secret Service agent stood.

"It's not in this room, sir. I'll swear to that." The man spoke in a low voice. "Unless—?"

"If you can't find the pearl in this room you'll have to search them," stated the adventurer, firmly.

Rohmer started an energetic protest, which was supported by the red tape sergeant.

"'Fraid you'll have to give them in charge first, sir," interpreted Browne, with a broad grin. "We're not on the Somme here, sir."

"Charge, nothing." Therrold spoke irritably. "My authority carries me, I believe?" Browne shook his head, dubiously. For the moment the Englishman was perplexed. During the past five years he had lived where his warrant tor his actions was his ability to shoot first, and straightest. The laws and regulations of civilisation irked and baffled him.

The girl broke the tension. From the moment she had walked from behind the screen she had not spoken, obeying Therrold's orders, passively. "Send for a women and she can search me," she said in a low voice. "I have not stolen your pearl, Mr Therrold, and I am not afraid."

Detective Browne immediately called headquarters, asking for a woman searcher to come to the hotel. Then he went to the Japanese screen and righted it, then turned to Therrold.

"There's two in this room you can't suspect, Captain," he said, briskly. "Sergeant Saunders and I came in long after the pearl was lost. I suggest that you give Mr. Rohmer a lead by allowing the sergeant to search you. Then he can't think you're trying to put one ever on him."

Therrold looked at the hotel manager, who nodded assent. He went to the screen, beckoned the sergeant to accompany him. Five minutes later he emerged into the room, pulling on his coat.

Without a word, Rohmer left his seat and joined the officer behind the screen. Almost immediately a knock came at the door. Browne opened it and a middle-aged woman entered. A few words from the police officer and she walked to where the girl sat. Almost immediately Rohmer and the sergeant came from behind the screen. The police woman touched the girl on the arm and walked to the screen. For some minutes the four men waited. At last the woman came out, shaking her head, negatively.

"No results, sir." Brown swung round to face Therrold. "The pearl's not in this room, and it ain't on either of you three people. It fairly beats me."

Therrold looked uncomfortable. For a second he hesitated, then went to where the girl sat. "I owe you an apology for the indignity of the search," he said, haltingly. "I know you must think badly of me, but—'

"You forget." The girl smiled slightly. "I was behind that screen during your interview with Mr. Rohmer. I can't understand how the pearl has disappeared. It is very valuable, you said."

"It is not the value, exactly." Therrold hesitated. "The pearl is valueless, except to three groups of people In the world. It is so unique—the only Green Pearl—that it would be absolutely valueless to anyone but one of the three claimants for it. It is unsaleable, yet—"

"Some jewels carry a fate beyond their worth," completed the girl.

Therrold did not reply. He looked at her with interest a moment, and with renewed apologies, he turned to the detectives.

"I'm afraid—'

"An exclamation from the hotel manager caused him to turn sharply. Rohmer was standing before the desk with the square of velvet in his hand. On the blotting pad, where the velvet had rested, was drawn a large red chalked 'IV."