Читать книгу Captains of Souls - Edgar Wallace - Страница 5

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"WELL, Sault, why have you come? Anything wrong?"

Beryl would have thought Dr. Merville's manner strangely mild and conciliatory after his show of antagonism toward the visitor.

Sault had seated himself on the edge of a low chesterfield under the curtained window. "Moropulos is worried about some people who called at his bureau today. They came to ask him about a letter that had been sent to him from South Africa by the assistant manager of the Brakfontein Diamond Mine."

Merville was standing by the library-table, in the centre of the room. The hand that played with the leaves of a magazine was trembling ever so slightly. "What has happened...how did they know...who were they?" he demanded shakily.

"I think it was the managing director—the American gentleman. He was very angry. They discovered that the manager had been receiving money from London soon after he made his report. Moropulos told me that the shares had dropped thirty points since yesterday morning. Mr. Divverly said that Moropulos and his gang—those were the words, I think—had bribed the manager to keep back the report that the mine was played out. I suppose he did. I know very little about stocks and shares."

Dr. Merville was biting his knuckles, a weak and vacillating man; Sault had no doubts as to this, and it hurt him every time he realized that this invertebrate creature was Beryl Merville's father. How and why had he come into the strange confederation?

"I can do nothing." The doctor was fretful, his voice jerky; he fixed and removed his pince-nez and fixed them again. "Nothing! I do not know why these people make inquiries. There was nothing dishonest in selling stock which you know will fall...it is a part of the process of speculation, isn't it, Sault? All the big houses work on secret information received or bought. If—if Moropulos or Steppe care to buy information, that is nobody's affair..."

"There may be an inquiry on the Stock Exchange," said Sault calmly. "Moropulos asked me to tell you that. The Johannesburg committee have taken up the matter and have called for information. You see, the manager has confessed."

"Confessed!" gasped the doctor, and went white.

"So Mr. Divverly says. He had told the directors that Moropulos had the information a month before the directors."

The doctor sat down heavily on the nearest chair. "I don't see—that it affects us," he protested feebly; "there is no offence in getting a tip about a failing property, is there, Sault?"

"I don't know. Moropulos says it is conspiracy. They can prove it if..."

"If?"

"If they find the letters which the manager wrote. Moropulos has them in his desk."

Merville sprang up. "Then they must be destroyed!" he cried violently. "It is madness to keep them...I had no idea—of course he must burn them. Go back and tell him to do this, Sault."

Ambrose Sault put his hand into the fold of his shabby jacket and brought out a bundle of documents. "They are here," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Moropulos says that you must keep them. They may get a warrant to search his house."

"Keep them—I?" Merville almost screamed. "Moropulos is a fool—burn them!"

Sault shook his head. "Steppe says 'no'. They may be useful later. You must keep them, doctor. It is Steppe's wish. To-morrow I will start working on the safe."

Dr. Merville took the papers from the outstretched hand and looked round helplessly. There was a steel box on his desk. He took out his key, looked again and more dubiously at the packet of letters, and dropped them into the box. "What is this safe, Sault? I know that you are a devilish clever fellow with your hands, and Moropulos mentioned something about a safe. You are not making it?"

Sault nodded, and there was a gleam in his fine eyes.

"But why? Moropulos has a safe and Steppe must possess dozens. Why not buy another, if he must have a special place for these wretched things?"

"You cannot buy the safe that I shall make," said the dark man quietly. "It has taken me a year to invent the dial...eh? Yes. Combination. They are easy, but not this one. A word will open it, any other word, any other combination of letters, and there will be nothing to find."

The doctor frowned. "You mean if any other person—the police, for example—try to open the safe, the contents are destroyed?"

Sault nodded.

"How?"

The visitor, his business at an end, rose. "That is simple, a twist of the hand, unless the combination is true, releases a quart of acid, any of the corrosive acids will serve."

Merville bent his head in thought. Presently he saw a flaw in the invention. "Suppose they don't touch the lock?" he asked. "Suppose they burn out the side of the safe—it can be done, I believe—what then?"

Ambrose Sault gave that soft laugh of his. "The sides will be hollow, and filled, from the inside of the safe, with water pumped in at a pressure. Cut through the safe, and the water escapes and releases a plunger that brings about the same result—the contents of the safe are destroyed."

"You are a strange creature—the strangest I have met. I don't understand you," Merville shook his head. "I hope you will hurry with that safe." As Sault was at the door he asked: "Where did Moropulos find you, Sault?"

The man turned. "He found me in the sea," he said. "Moropulos was trading in those days. He had a sloop—pearl smuggling, I think. I thought he had told you. I never make any secret about it."

"In the sea—for heaven's sake, what do you mean? Where?"

"Ten miles off the Isle of Pines. I got away from Noumea in a boat. Noumea is the capital of New Caledonia. I and three Canaques—they were under sentence for cannibalism. We ran into a cyclone and swamped, just as we were trying to make the sloop which was standing in to the lee of the island. Moropulos took me on board and the natives; when he found that I was a convict—"

"A convict...a French convict!"

Sault was leaning easily, his cheek against the hand that gripped the edge of the open door. He nodded. "I thought he had told you. Of course he would have taken me back to Noumea for the reward, only he had a cargo on board which he did not want the French to see. I found afterwards that when we called at the Loyalty Island he tried to sell me back, but couldn't get a price." He smiled broadly as at a very pleasant recollection. "Moropulos would sell me now," he said, "only I am useful."

"But why...why were you imprisoned?" asked Merville, awe-stricken at the tremendous revelation.

"I killed a man," said Sault. "Good night, doctor."