Читать книгу For Information Received - Edgar Wallace - Страница 6

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The girl was very pretty. Levinsky could hardly associate this radiant specimen of womanhood with the lank girl he had known in the old days.

"I remember you, Mr. Levinsky," she smiled, "and I was so glad when Mr. Smith told me that you were in Paris. I only arrived the day before yesterday you know. It was difficult getting away from Switzerland because I had taken on new work," she went on, "but the moment I got Mr. Smith's letter I applied for leave."

She wore some sort of close-fitting dark blue uniform and a wide-brimmed hat which shadowed her face.

"Oh yes, I knew Johnny Kelly," said Solomon awkwardly, "he was in my company. Let me get you some coffee."

She shook her head.

"Thank you, no," she said, "I cannot drink or eat." There were tears in her eyes, and her voice shook, "Johnny and I were—engaged. We quarrelled about a stupid thing, and he resigned from the police—he had a very good position, and joined up. It was really over that we quarrelled. He wrote, but I did not answer him, and then I had a chance to do work in Switzerland for the Red Cross, and I tried to find him, but there were so many regiments in France—and I didn't know the name of it. I heard that he had joined the first British unit which had arrived in France, but somehow i couldn't write, and then, and then—" Her voice shook.

"Terribly sad, terribly sad," said Lex Smith soothingly, "as Mr. Tigiliki said—"

The girl shivered.

"Please don't mention that man, Mr. Smith," she said, "the memory of him is a nightmare. I know he was a friend of yours in Switzerland."

"Not a friend of mine," said Lex Smith hastily, "just a casual acquaintance. A prince in his own country, Miss MacNalty. If I had had any idea that he was annoying you I should have—"

"I am sure you would," she said gratefully, "but you have no idea what I have suffered. He has bombarded me with letters ever since he has been in France, and he is such a dreadful man," she shuddered. "They tell awful stories about him even in Switzerland where the police are so very strict. He has a horrible harem in the South of France, and—"

"Yes, yes, yes," said Mr. Smith soothingly, "a real bad man I believe. I'm sorry I made his acquaintance, but you know when one is travelling, Miss MacNalty, one only gets to know people on the surface. He is immensely rich, and I am told he gives the most wonderful presents to people—"

"Please don't talk about it," said the girl shortly, and turned to the uneasy Solomon. "You were with Johnny—when he died?" she asked quietly.

Solomon cleared his throat.

"I was, indeed." he said. "A grand fellow was Johnny."

She looked from Smith to the other and then:

"Did he leave any letters?"

For a second Solomon hesitated, and his companion kicked him savagely under the table.

"Yes, he left a lot of letters addressed to you," said Solomon, "I have got them out at my house in Neuilly."

"Did you bring them?" she asked.

"Why no," interrupted Mr. Smith, "I wouldn't let him take the risk of carrying them about Paris, besides there are too many of them. Mr. Levinsky thought you would like to go out and take them yourself. His wife and mother will be glad to see you."

Levinsky looked so startled at the discovery of these relations in Paris that, had the girl been watching him, she must have seen through the invention.

Solomon recovered.

"That's right," he said, "they will be really glad to see you, Miss MacNalty. You see I keep the letters in my safe."

The girl looked at him dubiously.

"It's rather late."

"Oh, but they expect you," said Lex Smith with a smile, "Mrs. Levinsky told Solly before he left to-night that he's got to bring you out whatever the hour is. Where did she say she would send the car, Solly?"

Levinsky tried to speak, but failed. He could only nod his head toward the big limousine which was still patiently waiting. Again the girl hesitated. An uneasy sense of danger oppressed her, but she remembered Levinsky as a sober and mysterious personage who occupied the best rooms in the boarding-house where she was staying, and whose business took him out of town a great deal.

And somehow his association with her dead father (Levinsky used to play an occasional game of chess with him in their tiny room) created a faith which overrode her suspicion.

"You have not been in Paris very long then?" said Smith as they rose and made their way between the crowded tables.

"Two days," she replied, and then: "Are you corning out too?" she asked.

"Oh no," said Lex Smith, "I have a very important appointment with a member of the Embassy, but I will see you to your car."

The girl crossed the road a little ahead of them.

"I'll be waiting for you right here on the corner," said Smith in a low voice; "the money's as good as in your pocket."

"I don't like it," growled Solomon in a low tone; "this is an awful business."

"It will be more awful if you come back without that money," said Lex significantly. "Why, what's biting you? The man will treat her fine. You are probably doing her the grandest favour it is possible for a man to do a girl."

Molly was waiting on the sidewalk for them.

"That's your car," said Smith loudly; "good-night, Miss MacNalty."

He took off his hat and grasped her warmly by the hand. Evidently he knew the driver, for they exchanged nods and he opened the door of the big car. The girl had one foot on the step when suddenly she heard a little whistle—a whistle that sent a shiver clown her spine.

She looked at the dark figure in the shadow of the Equitable Building, and took a step toward him and stopped.

"I'm silly," she said with a pathetic little laugh, "but it sounded so—"

"I'm afraid you will be late," said Smith; "don't keep Miss MacNalty too long, Solly."

Still she hesitated.

"You will bring me back to my hotel—it is the Hotel Juillet?"

"Don't worry about that, Miss MacNalty," said Smith irritably. "I'll see that—Solly will see that you come back."

"Hotel Juillet in the—what is the name of the street?"

Smith suppressed a curse. He had no idea where the Hotel Juillet was, and to show any haste or inventive power at this moment might breed doubt in the girl's mind. He turned to the man in the shadow.

"Do you know where the Hotel Juillet is?" he asked in French.

Johnny Kelly came forward, still chewing his toothpick.

"The Hotel Juillet?" he said, and took off his hat to scratch his head—a reprehensible practice of his in moments of doubt—and the rays of the arc light fell across his face.