Читать книгу The Unlawul Adventure - Aidan de Brune - Страница 6

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RAY faced the maid with cheeks flaming with colour. Almost she refused to believe her ears. Sara had called, having herself announced like an ordinary visitor. Sara, who owned the apartment; who was the organising head, of the gang of crooks who planned to steal the States Finance Company's bullion. For a moment the room spun round Ray. She took a step forward and faltered—to find a firm arm around her waist.

"Who's Sara?" Maude spoke angrily. "What's the matter. Miss Allerson. Shall I see this woman and send her packing?"

"No, no!" Ray spoke quickly. "No, I must see her, but—" She hesitated, "I did not expect her so soon."

Maude wanted to ask further questions, but Ray dragged her into the boudoir. There, for a moment the girl hesitated, then made a quick decision and turned to her companion.

"Stay here, Maude," she commanded. "I'm going out there." She pointed to the door to the corridor. "No, I am not going to avoid seeing this woman, but—well, you know, there is always a point to be scored, even with the unexpected."

She went to the mirror and pulled on the little hat she had picked up as she left the bedroom. A final glance in the mirror assured her that her colour had returned. Steeling herself to meet what fate had in store for her, she pressed the button, sliding the panels from the door.

"Don't leave, here, Maude," the girl commanded. "I shall not return this way. Do nothing, whatever happens. Do you understand?"

Maude nodded and Ray closed the door. She heard the panels slide into place—and waited.

Sara had come to the apartment. For what reason? Why had she had herself announced by the maid? She had keys of the rooms—she must have, or how had she managed to leave the packet of bank-notes in the bedroom the previous night?

At the door of the reception-room Ray again paused, to gather her courage. She pushed open the door and entered. At sight of the woman seated in the room she gave a little gasp.

This woman bore no possible resemblance to herself, except in height. She was plump, not stout, but remarkably well-developed. Her cheeks were full and rounded, yet there were dark hollows under her eyes. On her upper lip grew a few dark hairs, forming an insignificant moustache. Her clothes were of good quality, yet a shade gaudy.

The woman looked up curiously as Ray entered, then bent her eyes again to the magazine she held. Ray seated herself, watching the woman closely.

Was she indifferent to her coming, or had she failed to recognise her? If the latter, then this woman was not Sara. For Sara had been in her bedroom the previous night.

She would certainly have found means to examine her while she slept.

"You'll have to ring the bell, if you want anyone to know you are here." The woman spoke without raising her eyes.

"But the person I want to know that I am here, already knows it." Ray spoke ambiguously.

"Really?" The woman turned a page.

"Yes. Peculiarly, I thought she would recognise me, immediately." Ray continued, breezily. "Sara would know me anywhere."

"Sara?" The visitor dropped her magazine and stared at Ray, amazedly. "Did you say Sara?"

"You said Sara first," Ray chuckled. Her little surprise plan had succeeded. "In fact unless you had mentioned that word I might not have chosen to see you."

"Who are you?" The woman went to where Ray sat, staring down at her.

"Don't you know?" An impish grin came on Ray's lips. "You asked for Miss Allerson."

"And you came." The woman paused. "Take off your hat."

Ray obeyed. Carefully and lengthily the stranger scanned Ray's face, feature by feature. Suddenly she turned and pressed the bell-button.

"I think you are her," she muttered. "But I've got to be sure." When the door opened and Marie entered the woman turned to her, abruptly. "Tell me, girl, who this is?"

"Miss Allerson." The maid looked astonished.

"Thank you, Marie, you may go."

Ray spoke quickly. When the door was closed she turned to her visitor.

"Are you satisfied? Yes? Good! Now who are you? You are not Sara."

"How do you know that?" The woman parried.

"I should not be here but for that knowledge. Now, your name, please?"

"You may call me Sara."

Ray rose and walked to the corridor door.

"Good-morning, and good-bye. Please don't hurry away—but, I am busy."

Quickly as Ray moved the woman was quicker. Hardly had the girl's hand touched the door-knob when her wrists were seized.

"Be still; you little fool!" the woman hissed when Ray commenced to struggle, "Listen, you've got to obey orders."

"And if I will not?"

"Then—" The woman broke off abruptly. "Oh, well, call me Rose, if you want a name. It's mine anyway—one of them."

"Well Rose?" Ray went back t her chair, rubbing her wrists. "I can answer that you are very strong."

"Sara sent me to you." Rose spoke abruptly.

"Why do you call her Sara?" asked the girl.

"It's her name—one of them," the strange visitor replied.

"One of your names is Rose. One of hers Sara." Ray laughed. "Do you know that one of my names is Sara?"

"I don't know." The girl answered truthfully. "You see, for a long time I was personal secretary to a most arbitrary man. I had to do as I was told. It became wearisome. Now, am free."

"Are you?" Rose spoke quickly. She smiled! "If you asked me I'd answer that you were in a net where you'd have to do as you were told or—"

"Or what?"

"Sara left you a packet, last night placed it on your the dressing table, while you slept. She could well have—"

The suggestion, though unspoken made Ray shiver.

"Well?" she questioned, shortly. "You didn't come here to bully me, did you."

"I brought a message. More, I'm to get information from you."

"Exactly. Now the message please?"

"You are to get in touch with the Miss Allerson who lives at the Occidental Hotel, Oscar Beringer will introduce you."

"Quite unnecessary." Ray smiled at the suggestion. "I don't think it advisable to trust Mr. Beringer too far."

The woman stared. "You're not such a fool as you look," she muttered.

"Yet, yesterday someone remarked how complete was my likeness to Miss Sara."

"All right. Have it your own way." Ray decided that Rose would always break under mild chaff. "Sara wants you to get hold of Amy Warren."

"Amy Warren?" Ray was perplexed for a moment. "Oh, I know—She was Mr. Chalmers personal secretary at the States Finance Company. Yes, I want to do that. What next?"

"You must find her a job."

"As my personal secretary." Ray tried to be sarcastic.

"That will do," Rose nodded.

"I am afraid that my means will not permit of private secretaries," Ray laughed. "Then, I should not know what work I could give her."

"You have a hundred pounds."

The girl was puzzled. This woman knew much; she spoke with an air of authority. Suddenly Ray leaned towards her, scanning her features closely.

"Sara, what is the game?" she asked, suddenly.

The woman started slightly. Ray was about to follow up her advantage when a tap came at the door. Ray did not answer. Her fingers found the bell-push, but she hesitated to press it.

Rose looked at the girl with some surprise. At length, Ray rose and sauntered over to the door. She believed that the woman would not betray her if she chose to conceal her identity. She drew open the door, slowly.

Oscar Beringer was standing on the threshold. Ray paused, irresolute, then swung the door wide open.

"You see I have accepted your invitation, Miss Allerson." A thin smile came on the straight lips. "Perhaps a few minutes' talk will save a lot of misunderstanding—" He caught sight of the woman seated slightly behind the door, and paused.

"I did not know you had a visitor. Perhaps I had better return later," he added.

"Not because of Miss—er, Miss Rose Smith." Ray gave the name with a quick glance at the woman. "Miss—er—Smith has my full confidence. In fact we were speaking of you but a few minutes ago. I should have telephoned you later."

"Miss Smith—of—" Beringer paused, inquiringly.

"Not of the Sydney Smiths," assured Ray. "Of the Melbourne family."

The crook bowed. Ray thought she caught a flash of approval in the quick upward glance the woman flashed at her.

"You were about to telephone me—at Miss Smith's instigation?" Beringer spoke easily. "May I—"

"I would have asked you for Miss—Miss Amy Warren's address."

"Amy Warren?" Beringer was plainly startled. "What do you want that girl for?"

"Mr. Beringer!"

The man flushed, angrily. "I do not know where to find the girl," he said.

"So much for the Sydney organisation." Ray laughed, cruelly. "I am afraid I shall have to interfere—largely, Mr. Beringer."

"I believe you have already." The crook was fast losing his temper.

"Miss Warren is necessary." Rose spoke for the first time.

"Miss—er—Smith speaks with authority," Beringer sneered. "Perhaps it is well to have someone here who can influence Miss Allerson."

"I am waiting, Mr. Beringer," Ray insisted.

"For what?"

"Miss Warren's address."

For a half-minute they crook hesitated, then taking a card from his pocket he scribbled on it a few lines and flung it on the table.

"Now, may I ask the meaning of this?" he questioned, savagely.

"Certainly, and receive an answer." The woman spoke. "Miss Warren will act as personal secretary to Miss Allerson."

"But—but that is suicide to our plans." The man stood aghast. "Don't you realise that she is straight—dead straight? I tested her but—"

"That will be an advantage, Mr. Beringer," Rose interrupted. "Now you have kindly provided the address we required there is no need to detain you."

"One moment." Ray interposed as the crook moved sullenly towards the door. "You obtained Miss Warren's discharge from the States Finance Company; whom did you place there in her stead?"

"I had two girls in mind." Beringer spoke after a pause. "Either of them would work as I dictated."

"As you dictated, Mr. Beringer?"

"What more do you want?" the man flared, angrily.

"Only the truth." Ray spoke tranquilly. "You speak of placing one of two girls as personal secretary to Mr. Matthew Chalmers. Yet you know that he had already engaged a young lady to replace Miss Warren."

"Who?"

"Does that matter?"

"A Miss Henderson," Rose interposed. "You will understand, Mr. Beringer, that Miss Henderson retains that position."

"Then good-bye to a million." Beringer laughed harshly. "Now I have learned what a fool I have been to take on business with a woman." He paused and turned savagely on Ray. "Take this warning. You Melbourne folks can run your own stunts in your own way. You won't get any help from Sydney. Understand?"

"Perfectly." Ray was elated, Had she broken the plot to loot the States Finance Company of over half-a-million sovereigns?

"You speak for the men and women who work with you?" Rose was curious.

"They will follow my instructions, or—"

"More threats." The woman glanced down at her watch. "May I trouble you to open the door, Mr. Beringer?"

The man stared, and obeyed. Immediately the door was unlatched it was thrust fully open and two men came into the room, pushing Beringer before them. One of them stepped back and closed the door.

"What the hell—" Beringer's fury broke all bounds. He turned savagely on Ray. "Look here, I'm fed up with this. In future you run your own game your own way, but don't expect help from me. I'm through."

"Search him." Rose took no notice of the man's remarks.

Without hesitation the two men seized Beringer and rapidly cleaned out his pockets. In a few moments their contents lay on the table before the strange woman. She went through the papers methodically, separating a few notes and letters from the pile.

"So more?" she asked at length. She placed the papers she had selected in her handbag. "Put the rest of this stuff back in his pockets. I have what I want here."

She rose from her seat, glancing sharply from the master-crook to Ray, a quizzical smile hovering about her lips.

"Thanks awfully, Oscar Beringer," she continued. "I was wondering how I was to get what I wanted from you—and you gave me the opportunity to have you searched. Again thanks." She turned to Ray. "I don't think he will make any outcry over our somewhat arbitrary action. One or two of these papers would be of special interest to the police of this State."

She went to the door, one of the men escorting her. Ray sat watching Beringer and the other man. She wondered in which direction all this led.

In a moment the man who had departed with Rose returned and released Beringer from his bonds.

"Take him up to his office, Bob," he ordered the second man, shortly. "Stay with him ten minutes then come away. Get me?"

The man nodded. A rough shove sent Beringer to the door. When they had passed through the first man turned to Ray.

"Miss Allerson—"

"You know I am not Miss Allerson," Hay flashed back, angrily.

"I know yon are Miss Allerson—Miss Ray S. Allerson." The man's voice was coldly level. "I know you come from Melbourne. Do you want me to repeat your history to you?"

Ray was silent. Did this man know of the fraud she was practising—a fraud even when worked on crooks? If he did, then why was he leaving her In that apartment—to pose as his chief, R. S. Allerson, mistress-crook?

"You will receive a message." The man's level tones broke on Ray's meditations and perplexities.

"From Sara?"

"From Sara." A slight smile parted the man's lips.

"Rose is Sara?" challenged the girl.

"Rose speaks for Sara." The man paused. "Miss Allerson, you must realise that in this city you are alone. You have not your friends around you. You will have difficulty in getting your instructions obeyed. Take a word of advice. Accept what help is offered you."

He drew bank, half-opening the door, and slipped through into the corridor. The door dosed, leaving Ray staring at It.

"Miss Allerson."

The girl drew a deep breath as she turned to her maid.

"What is it, Marie?"

"A Miss Ruth Henderson to see you. She came to the boudoir door."

"Henderson?" Ray stared. Who was Ruth Henderson? Then she remembered. She glanced quickly at the corridor door, but It was now shut.

"Tell Miss Henderson that I will be with her in a moment," Ray decided quickly.

For some minutes Ray sat in the reception room, stating before her. What did the events of the past half-hour mean? How could she fit them into the scheme of things. She could not. Again all was chaos. Her mind was bewildered. She felt herself groping towards some unknown end, through black darkness.

But, above the maze perplexities into which Rose and her attendant crooks had plunged her, stood one fact. That morning her maid, Marie, had summoned her to roll back the panel dividing the reception room from the bedroom. Now she had swung back the panels concealing the doors from the boudoir to the corridor. What did that mean? Was Marie to be trusted?