Читать книгу Sinister Island - Cecil Bernard Rutley - Страница 7

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The next few days were passed in an orgy of sight-seeing. Dawn, indeed, was having the time of her life. The shops thrilled her, the food thrilled her, and the shadowed streets, with the cliff-like skyscrapers towering up towards the clouds on either side, made her feel as though she had been transported to a different world, with the result that she forgot all about the unknown shadowers, or at least only thought about them very rarely. And then one evening the fact that they were both under observation was again brought home to the travellers.

They had been to a theatre, and as Dawn opened her bedroom door, a faint whiff of some strong perfume assailed her nose. The girl switched on the light and looked around. The room was empty, but Dawn, who was fastidious about the scent she used, knew that some woman besides herself had been there quite recently. Who could it be? The chambermaid? But the girl would never be allowed to use that scent in the hotel. Dawn stood for some seconds surveying the room with critical eyes, then she shut the door and began opening her trunks and the drawers in which her clothes were laid away, one after the other. This time there were no badly folded garments to reveal the searcher, but in one drawer some handkerchiefs had been misplaced, in another a bag she had bought only the day before had been put back the wrong way up, and after a rapid examination, Dawn left the room and knocked on her guardian’s door.

“Hullo! Who’s there?”

“It’s me, Dawn. Can I come in?”

“Yes.”

Dawn entered the room and closed the door behind her. Her guardian was seated in an arm-chair reading, and the air was heavy with cigarette smoke. The girl puckered her nose disgustedly.

“Not much chance of smelling anything in this fug,” she commented.

“What should I want to smell, my dear?” asked her guardian, laying down his book with a smile. “Rather late for a smelling game, isn’t it?”

“Don’t be an ass, Uncle Stan. They’re back at it again.”

“Who are back at what?” inquired Mr. Wright, regarding with approval the tall, slender figure in the sheath-like dress of blue taffeta who confronted him. “And where does the smell come in?”

Dawn uttered something which sounded suspiciously like a grunt, and crossing the room, she began pulling out the drawers of a cabinet. But at the third she gave up the task, and having closed the drawer with a bang, she turned again to face her companion.

“Are all men as untidy as you?” she asked. “Why, a regiment could go through your things and you wouldn’t be any the wiser, keeping them in the pickle you do.” She moved forward and sat down on the bed. “Listen, Uncle Stan,” she went on. “Since we went out a woman has been in my room searching, I know it because though she was very careful she wasn’t quite careful enough, and some of my things have been displaced.”

Mr. Wright slowly crushed out his cigarette before replying, then: “Are you sure?”

“Perfectly.”

“How do you know it was a woman?”

“Because she was using a foul scent which is still hanging about in my room. That was why I grumbled at your smoke. I wanted to know if she had been in here, too. I suppose you didn’t notice anything?”

“I can’t say I did, Dawn. I was smoking at the time so probably I shouldn’t have noticed it if it had been here, but anyway, if our shadowers are at work again, the probability is that while the woman was searching your room, one of her confederates was going through my things. They’d save time that way. I suppose you haven’t missed anything? I mean, there is the possibility that your visitor might be an ordinary thief.”

The girl shook her head.

“No, I haven’t missed anything, besides——”

“I know. The odds are all in favour of a visit from our rivals.”

The speaker stood up, and going to a trunk rest at the bottom of the bed opened a large suit-case and looked inside.

“H’m! You’re right, Dawn, and so am I. Somebody has been going through this case with a heavy hand, and by the look of things, it wasn’t a woman.” He displayed the interior of the case, the contents of which had been roughly turned over without any attempt at concealment. “Must have been in a hurry by the way everything is left, and probably disappointed.” The speaker closed the case. “Well, that’s that. They know now we haven’t got the map with us, so perhaps they’ll leave us alone.”

Dawn shook her head.

“That doesn’t follow, Uncle Stan. They may think we carry the map about with us. By the way, what have you done with the map?”

“I went to my bankers while you were having your hair done this morning, my dear, and told them to send it on to their Brisbane branch. So that is safe for the time being. What worries me is the constant annoyance you are being subjected to, yet unless we can give our shadowers the slip, I don’t see how we can put an end to it.”

“Oh! don’t worry about that, Uncle Stan,” answered Dawn. “If they like to amuse themselves searching my things, let them. I admit it’s not pleasant, but after all we’re on a treasure hunt, and it was hoping too much that it would turn out to be an absolute picnic. Still, after to-night’s failure, perhaps they’ll give it a rest for a bit. Gosh! I’m sleepy. Think I’ll turn in. Thanks for the wonderful time you’re giving me, Uncle Stan; I’m enjoying myself immensely.” Dawn stood up and kissed her guardian on his forehead. “Good-night, and don’t smoke any more. I’m sure it’s not good for you.”

Dawn was getting so used to the “shadowers”, as Mr. Wright called them, that the thought of alien hands having been through her belongings did not disturb her unduly, and she slept like a top till the chambermaid knocked on the door and woke her the next morning. Dawn said nothing about the unknown searcher. It was unlikely that the maid knew anything, and once she started making inquiries there was no knowing where they would end. And indeed, as the days passed without any further move on the part of their rivals for the treasure, it did begin to seem as though the shadowers had given up the hunt for a while. Now and then Dawn found herself searching the faces of the people she passed in the streets and wondering if they were their enemies, but for the most part she refused to think of them and gave herself up to the enjoyment of the moment. Then came the evening when Dawn and her guardian had dinner at a fashionable restaurant and afterwards went on to a play. Dawn had put on her blue dress again, and over this she wore an evening cloak of white fur which her guardian had given her that very day. Many eyes, indeed, were turned towards the tall, graceful English girl, both in the restaurant and the theatre, and Dawn, who would not have been human had she been unaware of the glances of admiration shot in her direction, thoroughly enjoyed herself.

“It has been quite a triumphal progress, my dear,” whispered her guardian in her ear as they made their way slowly through the crowded vestibule after the play. “I think it must be that fur cloak. After all, one expects to get something for five hundred dollars.”

“Thank you, kind sir.” Dawn laughed up into his face. “Heavens, Uncle Stan, what a crowd! Hark to them yammering for taxis. I’m afraid they’ve forgotten all about the cloak.”

“Looks like it,” answered her companion as they emerged from the theatre on to the pavement. “Stop here a minute, Dawn, and I’ll see if I can get a car.”

Dawn nodded her head and moved forward towards the curb, while her guardian disappeared into the crowd. She was feeling delightfully warm although there was a distinct chilly nip in the air. With a wriggle she snuggled her face deeper into the soft fur collar. She had dreamed of a cloak like this, but she had not expected to possess one, not for years and years, and now——

“Taxi, miss?”

The girl came out of her reverie to see a taxi driver grinning at her invitingly while he leaned back and opened the door.

“Oh! yes, please. My uncle’s gone—— But he’ll be back in a minute.”

“That’s all right, miss. You jump in. I’ll wait.”

Dawn needed no second invitation. Uncle Stan might not be able to get a taxi, or if he had it wouldn’t matter. There were plenty of people who—— Suddenly Dawn’s pleasant thoughts came to an abrupt end. She had been stepping into the car, and now, in a moment, she found herself gripped and jerked forward into the dark interior so that she fell across someone’s knees. In the same instant the door slammed and the car began to move, while a rough hand closed over her mouth, choking back the scream which had risen to her lips.

The attack had been so sudden and unexpected that for some seconds Dawn lay without movement; then as the full meaning of the outrage and the ignominy of her position came to her, she began to kick and struggle with all her strength.

“Hi, hold the young hussy, can’t you?” snapped a woman’s voice from the opposite corner of the cab. “Get hold of her legs, someone, she’s kicking. B——t! Tie her up, you fools.”

Dawn felt the toe of her right foot come in contact with a soft body; then as the hand upon her mouth slackened its pressure a moment, she buried her teeth in a fleshy finger. A smothered yelp of pain greeted this assault, and the hand was hurriedly withdrawn, but before Dawn could take advantage of her brief freedom to utter a cry for help, she was seized and thrown against the rear of the cab with such force that all the breath was knocked out of her body, and the next moment it seemed to the terrified girl that she was being smothered by clutching hands, hands which gripped her, and forced a piece of rag between her teeth, and bound her arms and legs until she was completely helpless.

“That’s done it,” gasped a man’s voice at last. “Gosh, who’d think the girl had so much fight in her.”

“She’s bitten my finger half in two,” snarled a second man.

“She kicked me in the stomach,” said a woman’s voice. “Wait till I get her in a safe place, I’ll give her what for.”

“Stow it, you two,” ordered the first speaker. “You know what we want, and so long as we get it, there isn’t going to be any rough stuff. That’s agreed. We’ll be up against the law bad enough as it is over this night’s business, and we don’t want to make it worse. Understand that.”

The man’s companions growled some response, and silence settled down upon the interior of the car which seemed to Dawn, in her distraught state, to be travelling at reckless speed and to be twisting in and out the streets without rhyme or reason. Miserably the girl leaned back against the cushions of the cab. The ropes round her legs and arms hurt her, and the gag in her mouth had a beastly taste. Where were they taking her, she wondered. What would Uncle Stan do when he discovered that she had disappeared? It seemed incredible that she could have been kidnapped from the very middle of a crowd emerging from a theatre without an outcry being raised. Yet she had heard nothing, and as far as she could tell, no attempt had been made to stop the car. Probably the very daring of the deed had been the cause of its success. No one, seeing her entering the car, would have dreamed of anything amiss. But suppose Uncle Stan had not left her, would their enemies have tried to kidnap them both? It seemed unlikely. Then the shadowers must just have been cruising round on the possibility of being able to pick her up. No doubt they had followed them to the theatre, and when Uncle left her to find a taxi, they had seized the opportunity, and now—now—what was going to happen now? Dawn had more than her share of courage, but at that moment she was a very frightened girl. These people wanted the map, and what would they do when she told them she hadn’t got it? Would they believe her? Would——

The sudden termination of the wild drive through the streets brought an end to Dawn’s thoughts. During the ride she had been conscious of street lamps visible through the cracks between the drawn blinds as they flashed by, but now the darkness without seemed to be as intense as the darkness within. Where could they be? Surely there should have been some lights visible? She heard the driver descend from his seat, and the next moment a door opened, and she saw the dark mass of a man’s head and body in the space where the door had been.

“Here y’are,” said the man. “Hop out and make it pronto.”

“Were we followed?” asked one of the men in the cab.

“Followed—not likely, what d’you take me for? Come on, misters. I done my bit and brought you and the dame here, now get her out and I’ll be gone. Kidnapping ain’t in my line, and I only done it as a favour.”

“Favour! What about the money we’ve paid you? All right, don’t argue. Get out, Belle. Don, take hold of the girl’s legs; I’ve got her shoulders. Quickly now. The sooner we’re inside the house the better.”

Dawn felt herself lifted and dragged none too gently out of the cab. She had a vague impression of a distant street lamp which seemed only to make the darkness more opaque, of tall, lightless buildings lining either side of a narrow way; then she was aware of being carried up some steps, of a door which banged behind her, and after a brief journey along a passage, she was dumped unceremoniously on to a hard settee. The next moment there came a loud click and an electric light bulb flashed on overhead, and Dawn found herself staring at two men and a woman whose faces were covered with masks of some heavy black material.

For some seconds Dawn lay regarding her captors; then she turned her attention to the room. Filth seemed the predominating feature. The paper was peeling off the walls, the carpetless floor was black with grime, and heavy shutters, from which all paint had long ago vanished, covered the window, while the furniture consisted of the settee on which she was lying, two rickety chairs and a wooden table upon which one of the men now seated himself.

“Well, here we are,” said the man, “and no one any the wiser if we are to believe that cabby. Don, set our guest free, and, Belle, take the gag out of her mouth, and don’t look as though you wanted to scratch her face. What’s a kick in the stomach against all the pearls we’re going to have?”

So the man who was untying the ropes about her legs and arms was called Don, in which case the man sitting on the table, and who appeared to be the leader, must be Hank. Dawn regarded him for some moments; then turned her attention to the woman who was removing the gag with none too gentle hands. Instantly she recognized the perfume which she had discovered in her bedroom a few nights before, but which, in the stress of the moment, she had not noticed till then, and a second later she caught sight of the purple opal ring upon one of the woman’s fingers. Hank and Belle, the people who had visited her that night at home, and now they had her in their power. What were they going to do? The gag fell from her mouth and she drew in a deep, grateful breath of air, the next instant Don had completed the freeing of her arms and legs and she was able to sit up and stretch her cramped limbs.

“That’s better.” The man at the table was speaking again. “Sorry to have used you so roughly, Miss Cheverill, but you wouldn’t have come of your own will, so we had to bring you. Now you know what we want. We want the map old Ben Travers gave you. That map is ours and we mean to have it, so the sooner you hand it over the sooner will all this unpleasantness be ended.”

The speaker paused to see what effect his words were having, while thought after thought raced through Dawn’s mind. She did not for one moment believe the assertion that the map belonged to these people, but that made her position no easier. What should she say? To deny all knowledge of the map would be futile; on the other hand, would they believe the truth? It seemed unlikely, but there was nothing else she could say. Suddenly she realized that, now the crisis was upon her, she was much less afraid, and as the man seated on the table began to speak again, she answered with a resolute shake of her head.

“If I had the map,” she said, “I would not give it to you, but I have not got it, so anyway it is impossible to do what you want.”

“I see,” answered her questioner. “Then perhaps Mr. Wright has it, and no doubt he will part with it readily in order to ensure your safe return?”

Suddenly Dawn saw the gulf yawning at her feet. She was to be held for ransom, and the price of her freedom was the map which her guardian had made so safe that neither he nor she could touch it for many weeks to come. Nevertheless, she replied with a steady voice:

“That also is impossible. The map is not in Mr. Wright’s possession, so he cannot part with it to you or anyone else.”

“Come, come, Miss Cheverill,” replied the man, an impatient note creeping into his voice. “Someone must have the map. A few nights ago we took the liberty of searching your and your uncle’s belongings and we failed to find the map, so naturally we assumed that one or the other of you carried it about on your person. The only question which bothered us was which, and when you kindly stepped into our little trap this evening, we naturally brought you here in order that you might give us the answer we require. So let us waste no more time.”

“I am not wasting time,” replied Dawn firmly. “I have not got the map, neither has my uncle. At the moment I do not even know where it is, and if you were to offer me a million pounds I could not lay hands upon it. And now that you have your answer, don’t you think you had better take me back to my hotel? If you do so at once, and promise to trouble us no further, I will try to persuade Mr. Wright not to prosecute you for this outrage.”

“So that’s the tone you’re taking, is it?” The speaker’s voice had suddenly lost all its suavity and become harsh and uncompromising, and his eyes gleamed angrily through the slits in the mask. “Listen to me, my girl. You’re on a bad spot and you’d better come clean, or you’re in for a pile of trouble. Now then, where’s that map?”

Dawn was conscious of a horrible, sick feeling. Trouble. The man meant it, and she was in his power and the power of his companions, and even if she wanted to, she could not meet his demands. All the same she managed to keep her voice steady.

“I am telling the truth,” she answered. “I have not got the map, neither has my uncle, nor is it possible for either of us to put hands on it no matter what you do to me. That is all I have to say.”

“Is it indeed!” the woman’s voice burst in shrilly. “Don’t you believe her, Hank. Doesn’t know where the map is! That’s a likely yarn. Can’t you see, you mutt, she’s trying to confuse you. Look at the way she diddled us that night in Suffolk. Give her to me for half an hour, Hank, and I’ll guarantee that by the end of that time we shall know where the map is.”

“Shut up, Belle!” The leader’s eyes bored into Dawn for some seconds; then he turned again to the elder woman. “Don and I will go outside while you search her. The map may be hidden somewhere about her clothes, but get this; no third degree yet awhile. If you start any rough stuff on her, I’ll come in and give you something you won’t forget in a hurry. Now get on with it and make it snappy. As for you, young woman,” to Dawn, “take my tip and submit, or I may alter my mind about that rough stuff. Come on, Don, we’ll clear out.”

Left alone the girl and the woman eyed each other. For all her slender grace Dawn was remarkably strong, and she guessed that, if the odds had been even, she could have held her own in a rough and tumble. But the odds weren’t even. That awful woman had two strong men on her side, and if she resisted this ignominy——

“Give me that cloak!” Belle’s shrill voice burst in upon the girl’s thoughts, and suiting her action to her words, the woman reached out her hands and snatched the white evening cloak from Dawn’s shoulders. “Stand up. That’s right, now strip. Did you hear what I said? Strip or I’ll tear the clothes off your back, and I haven’t any others to give you. Go on. You heard what Hank said, make it snappy.”

Almost Dawn threw discretion to the winds and flung herself upon her enemy in a frantic effort to overpower her and escape, but she checked the impulse in time. It was hopeless. Those men could not be far away, and even if she were able to gain a temporary advantage over her adversary, long before she could get away they would have come to their companion’s aid. There was nothing to do but obey. Slowly she slipped the blue dress over her head, and handed the searcher one filmy garment after the other, receiving them back when the woman had satisfied herself that no map was concealed among their daintiness. Her dress, the cloak, and her shoes received the most attention, but even these were returned to her at last, and twenty minutes after the search had begun she was fully clothed again. The woman went to the door of the room and called to her companions.

“Nothing doing,” she snapped as the men re-entered the room. “She hasn’t got the map on her, and there’s nothing on any of her clothes which might be the map. That’s got you guessing, hasn’t it?” she went on, noting the questioning glances of her companions. “Lucky you’ve got a woman with you. Never occurred to you, did it, that she might have worked the map into the pattern of one of her frillies and then destroyed the original. Still, it’s no go. There’s no map on her, I’ll stake my life, and there was no map among her things the other night, so what’s the next step? Either the big boy has it, or someone is being jolly clever. Seems to me it’s time for a bit of that third degree, Hank.”

The big man stood silent for several seconds while he eyed Dawn through the slits in his mask. The girl returned his glance unflinchingly. Inwardly she was very much afraid, but she was not going to show the white feather before these thugs.

“We’ll shove her upstairs in one of the attics,” announced the man at last. “I can’t make up my mind about her, and we’ll see what a little cold and hunger will do before we start the rough stuff. But don’t think you’re going to get off, young lady,” he snapped at Dawn. “If you take my advice you’ll come across with all you know about that map before my patience gives out, and I hand you over to Belle’s tender mercies. Go on, you two,” to his companions. “Take her upstairs and lock her up. Put her in the back attic, that’s safe enough.”