Читать книгу Leathermouth - Carlton Dawe - Страница 5

Table of Contents

ALL the same, he had caused me no little annoyance. I couldn't get him and his Sir Julius out of my head. Sleep failed to bring oblivion. I dreamt incessantly of Arabs and Jews, and roundly cursed both. What did it matter to me if they tore each other to pieces? And as for Sir Julius Ashlin, he might have gone to Germany or Jericho for all I cared, but he had no sort of right to disturb my slumbers. I was not interested in the fluctuations of the stock market. It didn't worry me if the bank-rate was five or six per cent. As far as I was concerned the money page of the newspapers was void of all meaning, though "Hints to Investors," or "What to do with your money," always raised a smile. It must have seemed a crude jest to many. Personally, I found more interest in drapers' advertisements, and a certain satisfaction in realising that there was no wife to plague me for a fur coat.

Of course, for friendship's sake, I would have liked to do old George a good turn. But how could I help him? I knew nothing of Sir Julius Ashlin and his activities beyond what George had told me. Moreover, how was it possible for me to succeed where authority, with practically limitless resources behind it, had failed? That I had been successful on one or two occasions, more by good luck than any superior intelligence, did not mean that I was always going to be favoured by fortune. That was the worst of having done a thing or two. People always expected more, and it was the very deuce itself to live up to any sort of reputation.

From which it may be gathered that I did not utterly consign George Mayford to the limbo of forgetfulness, richly as he deserved it. In spite of myself, of a grim determination not to think, I found myself thinking incessantly, and was considerably annoyed in consequence. In succession I reviewed the various points of his argument. Smuggled arms, Arab unrest, the Wailing Wall, Sir Julius Ashlin, Abu Benabbas—and our precarious tenure of Palestine. This last most of all. Was the Government seriously thinking of abandoning the Mandate? Would a grave disturbance jeopardise our position? Was there a sinister movement afoot to get us out of the country so that some other interested Power might step in? The cry of millions sunk in a useless enterprise had already gone up barefaced to heaven, and doubtless had many adherents. Well-intentioned patriots had maintained with tongue and pen that our duty to the taxpayer was to relieve him of both Palestine and Iraq. Sentiment might attach itself to Jerusalem, and romance to Bagdad, but there was neither sentiment nor romance in forking out hard-earned money. Big ideas must go by the board. There was no room for them in a little world of £ s. d.

It was all extremely exasperating. For a long time now I had tried to ignore politics. I would do no more than glance at the Parliamentary debates. "The Prime Minister in the City" made me turn hurriedly to the next page. "What the Foreign Secretary Thinks" left me cold, colder than the thought of a journey to the North Pole. One thing was certain: until the next General Election came round he would have soft answers for the foreigner and hard facts for his compatriots.

Which all proves that George Mayford had caused me intense annoyance, which he probably knew would be the case when he let loose his absurd theories of this and that. A wily, red-faced dog, that's what he was, who traded on my congenital weakness for intrigue. Not if he knew it, was I to pass my nights in peaceful slumber and my days in cultivating my garden. All the same if I'd wanted to settle down and write poetry. That would have made him laugh; Leathermouth writing poetry. It almost made me.

I vowed to myself that I would not get up that morning until it was time for me to stroll down to the club for lunch; and yet, about half-past ten, there came a ring at my 'phone, and I guessed instinctively who was at the other end of the line. At first I wouldn't answer, in case it should really be my evil genius, but of course I did.

"That you, darling?" he asked. I heard the brute chuckle.

"Not dead yet?"

"Not quite, but nearly, and all through you. Haven't slept a wink all night."

"Dreaming of me, I suppose?"

"That's it."

"Pity you ever woke." Again he chuckled. Awful fellow!

"I suppose you're just on your way?" he purred.

"What do you mean, just on my way?"

"To the office."

"Whose office?"

"Mine."

"I'm not dressed yet, I'm not even shaved, and I have no intention of visiting you or your mouldy office."

"It doesn't really matter. I've already arranged the interview."

"What interview?"

"Your interview with Sir Julius's secretary. Twelve sharp. Don't be late. Salisbury House, New Broad Street. First floor. Take the lift if you're tired."

"What on earth are you drivelling about?"

"All in order. One of our men. Investigating the mysterious disappearance of Sir Julius. Keep in touch with me. Best of luck."

"Just a moment, my lad."

"What's the matter now? Haven't I made myself clear?"

"Doesn't it strike you that you're taking a bit on yourself?"

"I usually do; it's part of my job. Don't worry. Everything's arranged. Just ask for Mr. Morris Goldberg. No, you idiot, Goldberg, not Goldbug. You'll find him an excellent fellow. So long."

With that he rang off, leaving me both perplexed and annoyed. Of all the cheek! And then I had to laugh. I was still laughing when Albert entered to ask if he should prepare my bath. I nodded. He turned to go but I called him back.

"Things have been mighty quiet for some time, Albert."

"Indeed, sir," he assented.

"Not to say stale?"

"We've known 'em livelier."

There was a twinkle in his eye as he said this, which set me thinking. I looked at his grim, thin face, his square shoulders, and let my mind travel back into the past. I saw him as I had first seen him in Egypt, when he came to me as my batman, a young fellow eager for the great adventure, with a careless philosophy of his own which made a singular appeal to me. I saw him when he picked me up that day before Gaza and bore me to safety behind a sandhill, which might have been anything but safe; for presently a couple of the enemy came creeping round, who doubtless would have written paid to our account but for Albert's presence of mind and his skill with my revolver. And I saw him that wonderful night in the Near East when the big Anatolian would have stuck a knife between my shoulders had not Albert socked him behind the ear. And . . . But no matter.

Yes, there was a good deal between us, much more than merely master and man. I think I might almost have made an intimate friend of him if he would have permitted it. But he never presumed, nor would he sanction presumption in me. I rather think he regarded me as altogether irresponsible, one who needed a mother to look after him. More than once he half-admitted that this was the reason why he never married. Who would look after me if he left? Upon occasion I had endeavoured to persuade him that he was doing some nice girl out of a good thing, but I might as well have appealed to a block of stone. Lots of his old pals, he said, had married and regretted it. The girl of to-day was never the same to-morrow. Not that he wished to say anything against them. We all had our faults. But there was wisdom in leaving well alone. Some horses ran all right in single harness; when an example was good a man couldn't do better than follow it. In this I perceived a subtle allusion to my own state of single-blessedness. How was he to know that I was only waiting for the first nice girl to look on me with favour?

To that remark of his that we had known " 'em livelier" I ventured to say that there was a prospect of certain liveliness in the near future. At this his eyes brightened.

"Where are we going this time, sir?" he asked.

"To the City." His face fell; quizzingly he looked at me. Then he smiled. He remembered that I often joked at serious things.

"And from the City, sir?"

"The Lord knows. Perhaps the East."

"I'll pack at once, sir."

"Easy on. At present we're not going farther than the City. In fact, we may not leave London at all."

"Lots of fun to be had in London, sir, on the quiet side."

"I anticipate extreme quiet."

"Yes, sir."

"Otherwise I would never dream of touching it."

But I saw the ghost of a smile play round his mouth, and firmly believe, notwithstanding the hum-drum existence we lived in Cork Street, that he was of opinion that I was one of those absurd persons who delight in looking for trouble; whereas my one desire, as I always impressed on him, was to let the world do as it pleased with itself so long as it didn't disturb my slumbers. But then I don't believe he ever fully realised the blessing of sleep. In fact, I don't think he ever slept, but pretended to, like a dog blinking one eye.

He took a step towards the door, then paused.

"Is Mr. Wally going with us?" he asked.

"He's in America."

"So I understand, sir."

"Well, then, how could he go with us, even if we were going anywhere, which we're not?"

"It would be rather difficult," he admitted.

The "Mr. Wally" referred to was one John Christopher Wallington, a native of New York City, who had seen a little excitement with Albert and me in the Near East, the time I was interested in the intentions of the Turks towards their subject races. He was of the third generation of Wallingtons, the founder of the family and its fortunes, "Old Jawn," as he was called, having entered New York Harbour as a foremast hand, and, evidently liking the outlook, was "missing" when the ship turned her nose homeward. He hailed from Lancashire, and was apparently not devoid of a certain amount of native shrewdness. At all events, seeing certain possibilities in his new surroundings he seized on them with avidity, the result being that land he purchased for a song was now worth its weight in gold. "Jawn the Second," being also a shrewd man of business, had added considerably to the family fortunes, so that when "Jawn the Third" came to the throne there was nothing for him to do but burn dollars. It must be admitted he did this extremely well, or ill. It all depends on the point of view. London and Paris knew him almost as well as New York, and though it cannot be said that he purposely courted publicity, he found it in abundance, at times greatly to his annoyance. He owned a string of horses at Newmarket, a much paragraphed yacht, and was frequently associated with social eccentricities which the newspapers described as "freaks."

Our introduction was rather unconventional. It took place in Constantinople, at a cafe concert. John, having dined well, had set out to find a little excitement, and found it. Though he declares to this day that his admiration of the woman was most decorous, she happened to be in the company of a Turk, a ponderous bearded fellow, who resented it. John's sense of humour was tickled. I don't quite know what happened; but a small crowd collected, angry murmurs arose; there was a scuffle, and I heard a voice cry out in English, "Is there a good American here?"

Now I am a very prudent fellow, one who likes to glide quietly through life, but that appeal in my native tongue, rising above the alien din, sent a most reprehensible thrill through me. I immediately pushed forward to where he stood, his back to a pillar, his clenched fists raised at the scowling mob which confronted him. Fortunately I was just in time to lay out an ugly fellow who was in the act of using a heavy stick. The young man, flushed of face, flung a lightning glance at me and said under his breath, "Good for you, pard!" Then he, too, struck, swiftly and surely, and his victim, staggering back upon the crowd, suddenly collapsed with a bleeding nose.

What would have happened to us had not the police arrived it might be difficult to say. However, we were escorted under guard to my hotel, which also happened to be his, and on the morrow we received a visit from a stout official in a fez (Mustapha Kernel had not yet begun his Westernisation of Turkey), who rather truculently informed us that Constantinople would refrain from the shedding of tears if we were to decide on an immediate evacuation of the city, which we accordingly did. But that night a friendship was cemented between me and Wallington which had every appearance of becoming permanent. Later, a few other adventures shared together, made this a certainty.

I thought a good deal of him as I shaved and dressed. What a wonderful fellow he was in an emergency! What a careless, happy-go-lucky beggar! I believe that when his time comes for going West he will fling a taunt at old Death himself. And with it all he was as handsome as paint, and always had the girls looking after him wherever we went. No wonder I grew moody. They never looked at me; that is, the young ones didn't. Occasionally a dowager might honour me with a second glance, but as for the youngsters. . . .

Perhaps I frightened them. Wally used to say I'd make a first-class villain for a crook drama, and urged me to turn to the films or the stage. Hollywood would go down on its knees to welcome me; the Beery brothers pass away once my face was shown in a close-up.

I regretted he was not in England at the moment. He might be useful in the task I was about to undertake. But he had been in America for more than a year now, an interminable lawsuit demanding his presence in New York, and for all I knew he might be dead or in the Arctic Circle, for he was a most thrifty correspondent. But, wherever he was, he was bound to be doing something he ought not to do.

Albert, among whose many qualifications was that of being an expert chauffeur, wanted to know if he should bring round the car, and appeared to be rather distressed when I informed him that I intended to take a taxi. As a matter of fact, when there was anything unusual afoot he hated to have me out of his sight, and this notwithstanding his almost childish belief in my miraculous abilities. They say no man is a hero to his valet. It may have been that he, being something more than a valet, had more than a valet's imagination. He needed it in my case.

Punctually on the stroke of noon I found myself on the pavement before Salisbury House, New Broad Street, and not feeling tired, as George Mayford had suggested, disdained the lift to the first floor. Evidently I had been expected, and word to that effect sent forth; for no sooner had I announced to a young Jewish-looking woman in the outer office that I had an appointment with Mr. Goldberg than I was at once ushered into that gentleman's presence. He was a very sallow-complexioned gentleman with a thin, coal-black moustache and thin black hair smoothed over a curiously-shaped flat head. In fact, I don't think I ever saw a head so flat, or a forehead so wide. It looked as though a careless nurse had stood him on his head at the hour of his birth.

"Colonel Gantian?" he said.

"At your service. Mr. Goldberg?"

"Yes, sir. Please be seated, Colonel."

He pointed to an easy chair upholstered in bright brown leather, seating himself on the other side of the table, a heavy, ornate piece of furniture covered with papers and heavy books. Books in glass cases and handsome bindings lined two sides of the room. Two windows looked out on the street, double windows, I noticed, which deadened all sound. On the wall, to the right of the windows, was spread a vividly-coloured map of Palestine, which at once made me feel at home. One's feet sank nicely into the large square of Turkey carpet that covered almost the whole of the floor.

Mr. Goldberg, looking at me through horn-rimmed spectacles, inquired if I smoked, and on my admitting as much instantly produced from one of the drawers of the table cigars and cigarettes. I chose the latter. He set a cigar going from a gold lighter.

He had a curious, long, thin nose with just the suggestion of a beak in-it, a nose that might have belonged to a man of any nationality. But for certain facts it might have been difficult to name the country of his origin, except that one instantly saw he was not of the Nordic race. His mouth was thin, his teeth rather large and uneven, his chin weak while suggesting obstinacy. Yet he had a most agreeable smile, and a cultured, mellifluous voice.

"No need of preliminaries, Mr. Goldberg?" I began.

"None, sir," he responded quickly. "I presume you are already acquainted with certain of the distressing details?"

"I know that Sir Julius has mysteriously disappeared, but beyond that I am entirely in the dark."

"Unfortunately we are all in the same predicament."

"When did you see him last?"

"On the Friday before his disappearance. He left here as usual about five o'clock. I saw him down to his car."

"And you have not seen him since?"

"No."

"How did he usually spend his week-ends?"

"It was not my business to inquire."

"Ordinarily, I take it?"

"I should imagine, quite. Sometimes at his town house in Belgrave Square, sometimes at his place in the country."

"Where is that?"

"Down in Hampshire, near the New Forest."

"Did he have any enemies?"

"What man in his position has not?"

"I mean personal enemies; that is, anyone likely to injure him for personal reasons?"

"Not that I know of. Of course—"

"Yes." I nodded amiably.

"You know he is deeply interested in the Zionist Movement?" Again I nodded. "And that much bitter feeling has been aroused?"

"You think that his political enemies—"

"Religious passions, as you know, Colonel Gantian, have been responsible for many fearful atrocities."

"You mean, you think that some fanatic, religious or political, has murdered Sir Julius?"

"No, sir."

"Why?"

"Because he would be more valuable alive."

"To his enemies?"

Mr. Goldberg smiled. "Sir Julius is a very rich man, and riches may be employed in many ways."

"Quite so. Then you think, in consideration of those riches—"

"He will be spared—for a time."

"But the time may come "

"Precisely."

"I take it that you would know of unusual disbursements?"

"Not necessarily."

"I see. Do you think he is still in England?"

"I should imagine so. I can conceive no place so safe for the purpose."

"Purpose?"

"I assume blackmail."

"Nothing more dangerous."

"Not at present."

I dipped into the open box and started a fresh cigarette. Mr. Goldberg continued to smoke placidly, his eyes never wandering for a moment from my face. They were large, intelligent eyes, rather dark, their darkness probably accentuated by the heavy rims of his glasses. I noticed that his hands were large for a man of his build, and bony, with protuberant knuckles. I also noticed the perfect set of his tie, his spotless linen, and the neat platinum sleeve links. I can't say why I was so particular to observe these trivial matters, as they had no bearing on the business in hand. Probably it was merely characteristic of me instinctively to absorb detail.

"What about women, Mr. Goldberg?"

He smiled. "You may wipe out all that."

"They have been known to play an important part in the most delicate of negotiations."

"But never in the life of Sir Julius."

"To your knowledge?"

"Precisely. Sir Julius has but one interest in life; the foundation of this national home for our race in the land of our fathers."

"He is married?"

"He was. His wife died many years ago."

"Family?"

"A widowed daughter who keeps house for him."

"Do you know a man called Abu Benabbas?"

"Only as a violent Arab propagandist."

"Nothing else against him?"

"Naturally I think his methods unscrupulous. I believe him to be a man who would stop at little to gain his own ends."

"Short of kidnapping, or murder?"

"Many strange tales have been told of him. He appears to be one of those mystery men who suddenly descend from nowhere into our midst."

"But this time it is out of the desert dusts of Trans-Jordania?"

"Where he has been actively engaged in stirring up revolt. Sir Julius has always considered him an extremely dangerous man."

"Have you any information as to his present whereabouts?"

"None whatever. He is one of those men who delight in making a mystery of their movements. Information has been frequently laid against him and his activities, but, so far, authority has failed to move."

"In the matter of curtailing those activities?"

"You know every dog is allowed a first bite. Unfortunately, when dogs like Benabbas bite the consequences are likely to be serious."

"Tell me, Mr. Goldberg, do you suspect him of having a hand in Sir Julius's disappearance?"

"I have no proof, not the slightest. At the same time it is obvious that Sir Julius's removal would not be disagreeable to him."

"And from the time you said good-bye to Sir Julius on that Friday afternoon not the faintest trace of him has been discovered?"

"Not the faintest."

"What about his chauffeur?"

"Didn't you know that he, too, was missing?"

"It's the first I've heard of it."

"That's very strange. The police knew. Odd that you should not have been informed."

Questioningly he looked at me, but I thought it better not to volunteer any information. This was an omission on George's part, due probably to forgetfulness. Doubtless I should have learnt of this had I called at his office that morning. Another question tripped to my tongue, an inquiry as to what became of the car; but, having already blundered once, I refrained from blundering twice. I heard later that it had been found abandoned in one of the recesses of Epping Forest.

I could see that Mr. Goldberg was more than a little interested in me personally, and I feared that he might be in possession of certain facts not unconnected with my career. At first I rather blamed George Mayford for letting him know my military rank, which I never used, as it had only been temporary; but I suppose the dear old idiot thought it might make me appear more impressive in Mr. Goldberg's eyes. I don't know; probably it did. A plain-clothes man from the Yard might not have met with an equal courtesy. For Mr. Goldberg certainly was courteous in the extreme, and, without being voluble, responded to my questioning without a moment's hesitation. That he had little information to give was clearly not his fault, he being as much amazed at the happening as the meanest clerk in the office. But one thing he let me see, and see clearly: he undoubtedly associated Sir Julius's disappearance with the enemy over in Palestine. This he at last accentuated to some length, the gist of which being, as was plain even to me, that the cessation of the baronet's contribution to the cause must necessarily react in favour of the enemy.

I tried him again with Abu Benabbas, who lowered threateningly on the horizon; but he could no more than repeat the little he knew, embellished with a few unconfirmed rumours. Yet I could see that he clearly recognised Benabbas as the villain of the piece. He spoke of plots in which rumour said that worthy had been engaged. Even when the Turks were in possession of the Holy Land he was notorious as a stirrer-up of strife. It was said that the Germans who commanded the Turkish forces against us had offered a reward for his capture, he, it was believed, being at the head of a band of desert warriors who harassed the enemy's rearguard. That, at any rate, was something in his favour, according to my thinking. But now he was facing an enemy infinitely more potent than the Turk, an enemy with well-filled pockets, the very necessary sinews of warfare. Abu Benabbas would have found the Turkish rearguard easier than the vanguard of Jewish finance.

I left Mr. Goldberg feeling that he had unreservedly placed before me all the information in his possession, which when analysed did not amount to much. Indeed, with the exception of the missing chauffeur story, old George had put me quite as wise. There was only this difference: I knew now, or thought I did, that it was no private matter which had forced Sir Julius to hide from his kind. And, apparently, there was no question of a woman in the case. Sir Julius was both old and austere, his only interest in life being the ultimate triumph of his race. But could one be sure that there was no woman in the case? It would indeed be a strange case that excluded woman; a scarcely human case I was inclined to think, and this, in spite of my apparent ability to live without them. But could I, could any man? As well expect to come into the world without their aid.