Читать книгу Flat 2 - Edgar Wallace - Страница 8

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'Don't you know me, Miller?'

The years had not dealt kindly with Mr. Charles Berry, but Miller had no difficulty in recognising him. He had once been reprimanded by Louba, as a result of endeavouring to satisfy his natural curiosity concerning Berry's visits to the flat and the quality of his relations with Louba; so that he had a personal reason for remembering him. 'How are you, Miller?' went on Berry affably, extending his hand.

'Oh, fair. How's things?' returned Miller. Berry had not formerly been very cordial with him, but it was evident that he wished now to be amiable.

They were outside Braymore House, one cold, damp evening.

'Just got back to England,' said Berry. 'Going anywhere particular?'

'I'm taking some letters down to Mr. Louba at the Elect Club.'

'Oh, so he's there?'

'Yes. Do you want to see him?'

'That's what I've come to England for. He's not treating me as he ought, and if he doesn't make a change, I think of making it unpleasant for him—I say, come and have one, can't you? I should like a talk to you. Not in a particular hurry, are you?'

'Not for five minutes or so.'

They walked side by side, a moist wind in their faces.

'How is Mr. Louba not treating you properly?' asked Miller, seeing Berry inclined to be communicative.

'Well—he's not paying me all he owes me. How do you think he is for money? Anything gone wrong?'

'Why?'

'Do you know anything?'

They regarded each other uncertainly.

'Look here,' said Berry. 'We may as well be frank with each other. Perhaps it'll help us both. He's behindhand in his payments to me, and I'm wondering if he's getting short of cash. How's he with you?'

'Well,' said Miller. 'My wage is behind too.'

'Oh.' Mr. Berry became thoughtful. Turning his head, he drew Miller's attention to a little man who was following at their heels. 'Who's that fellow?' he asked. 'I seem to have seen him often, but I don't remember where.'

'I don't know. I've seen him hanging about this neighbourhood: but he looks harmless enough.'

They went into the nearest saloon bar, and it was when they were seated together at a table with glasses before them, that Berry decided to take Miller yet more into his confidence.

'The truth is,' he said, 'I've already seen Louba.'

'What, since your return?'

'Yes. You were out. And he told me that he was broke, and that he was clearing out of the country with as much money as he could get together.'

Miller whistled. 'That's lively! What about my wages?'

'I thought it was just a bluff, to avoid paying me, but if it's true, it's pretty dismal, isn't it?'

'Rotten,' responded Miller gloomily.

'If it's true, he'll take every cent he can lay hands on, and you and I'll never see a penny of our money.'

Miller's countenance expressed a wrathful agreement.

'He's a bad lot is Louba,' said Berry.

'I can believe it,' nodded Miller. 'If I thought he was really going to do me—'

Berry laughed.

'He'll not treat you any better than anybody else, you can rely on that, Miller,' he said, and came to an abrupt halt.

The little man they had seen in the street had entered the place after them, and had seated himself at a table nearby He blinked guilelessly at Berry's rude stare.

'See that man?' muttered Berry. 'Come in to have a lemonade,' he scoffed, not doubting the man's harmlessness, yet somehow rendered uneasy by his proximity.

'After all the years I've served him!' exclaimed Miller, his mind still on Louba and his own grievance. 'But I've had my suspicions.'

'What's made you suspicious?'

'I know his companies aren't doing any too well, and he's had to pay out a good bit; and I saw something only a couple of days ago that made me open my eyes, but he's always doing something odd, and I couldn't be sure it meant a get-away.'

'What did you see?' asked Berry eagerly.

'A passport made out in another name, but with his photograph on it.'

'Then it's true. He's going to run.' Berry drained his glass and slapped it on the table. 'And we're left in the soup! Married?'

'I'm going to be.'

'Nice little wedding-present for you—absconding employer. Have another.'

They had two others, and Miller, usually an abstemious man, began to feel himself a disgracefully used person.

'All these years I've been with him!' he ejaculated.

'Earned a nice fat wedding-present, if any man has,' sympathised Berry.

'And the wages he owes me!'

'Mean rogue. Might have paid you, at least.'

Berry was well content with Miller's condition of mind, when he was again irritated by the little man at his elbow, who was undisguisedly listening to what portions of the conversation reached his ears.

'Excuse me,' said Berry loudly. 'Are we saying anything to interest you, sir?'

'I beg your pardon,' said the little man. 'I couldn't help hearing that you were speaking of Mr. Louba.'

'Friend of yours?'

'No. But I'm very interested in him.'

'Really? A lot of people are.'

'Yes. I'm particularly interested in him just now.'

'Oh, why?'

The little man brought his glass of lemonade and seated himself at their table.

'Why,' he explained. 'I find that da Costa has a flat above his in Braymore House.'

'Yes, he has,' said Miller. 'But he's not a friend of Mr. Louba's'.'

'Oh, no, I wouldn't call him that,' returned the little man. 'That is why I'm very hopeful just now. He said if he waited twenty years...and it isn't twenty years yet.'

'Don't seem much to be hopeful about, if you're talking about Mr. Louba,' said Miller dejectedly.

'What do you know about Louba?' queried Berry.

'Oh, nothing much,' replied the little man gently. 'I met him years ago...a long while. Only I've never lost faith—particularly in da Costa. They've quarrelled again since then: rivals, you know, and da Costa doesn't forget.'

'Well, what's it all about, anyway?' demanded Berry, impatient to continue his manipulation of Miller's grievances.

The little man looked at him blankly.

'Any special business with us?' asked Berry rudely.

'Oh, no, thank you. Pardon me for interrupting you. I'm always interested in anything concerning Louba. It helps me along. Not that I ever lose faith,' he said, getting to his feet. 'Faith is a great thing, gentlemen. I've been living on it for years now. Keeps me cheerful when otherwise I should die—but I'm always cheerful. I have faith. And I wait.'

He drank his lemonade, made a little bow, and went out. Berry tapped his forehead.

'Well, now, look here. Miller,' he said. 'Louba's treating us both badly, and he's a rogue, anyhow. Why should we let him grab all the money he can and clear off with it?

'How can we stop him?'

'We can't stop him from clearing off, but we can go shares in his plunder.'

'He'll see to that! Whoever goes short, you can be sure he'll have enough to live in luxury. Trust him.'

'If we're fools enough to let him. You're in the house with him, Miller.'

Miller put down his glass so hastily that some of its contents splashed over on to the marble-topped table.

'What if I am? D'you take me for a thief?'

'I shouldn't be sitting here talking to you if you were,' replied Berry, with a slightly overdone haughtiness.

'Then what's my being in the house got to do with it?'

'Well, you can see that whoever benefits by the money he manages to collect, it won't be him. Why, I'd rather send the whole lot to a hospital, and go without my own arrears, than that scoundrel should have it,' declared Berry virtuously. 'To take money from him, who only uses it for other people's ruin, is no different from taking a loaded revolver from a man who'd only use it for murder! There's stealing, and there's taking, Miller, and I tell you I'd think nothing of taking cash from a scoundrel like Louba!'

'H'mph, that's all right in theory,' rejoined Miller. 'I'm with you. But when it comes to practice...' He shook his head. 'I'm not going to take the chance of explaining the difference between stealing and taking to a judge and jury!'

'If you're willing to make it easy, I'll run the actual risk,' promised Berry. 'If you can keep your eyes skinned, see when a large sum comes in, and let me know, between us we can fix it. I'll do the actual taking, if you'll help and cover me. And we'll go fifty-fifty, just as if you ran an equal risk. Now, what do you say to that?'

For some time, Miller had not much to say. He was not inclined to discuss the project seriously: but he continued to drink, and his face grew darker as his wrongs grew bigger.

Charles Berry did not lose patience, and continued to call for fresh drinks.