Читать книгу The Clue of the New Pin - Edgar Wallace - Страница 6

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AT nine o'clock that night the bell of Tab Holland's flat rang long and noisily.

"Who the dickens is that?" he growled.

He was in his shirt-sleeves, writing for dear life, and the table was strewn with proofs of his industry.

Rex Lander came out of his bedroom.

"Your boy, I expect," he said; "I left the lower door open for him."

Tab shook his head. "The office is sending for the copy at eleven," he said; "see who it is, Babe."

Mr. Lander grumbled. He always grumbled when he was called upon for physical effort. He opened the door, and Tab, hearing a loud and unfamiliar voice, joined him. On the landing without was a bearded, swaying figure, and he was talking noisily.

"What is wrong?" asked Tab.

"Everything, sir," hiccupped the caller, "everything is...wrong. A man, a gen'leman cannot be robbed with impunity or assaulted by me--menials with--with," he considered a moment and added: "impunity."

"Bring him in, the poor soused herring," said Tab, and Mr. Wellington Brown swaggered and staggered into the sitting-room. He was abominably intoxicated.

"Wish of you young gen'lemen is Rex Lander?"

"That is my name," said the puzzled Rex.

"I'm...Wellington Brown of Chei-feu. A pensioner at' the mercy of a dam' ol' scoundrel! A pension'r! He pays me a pittance out of what he robbed me. I can tell you some'n about ol' Trasmere..."

"Trasmere, my uncle?" asked the startled young man.

The other nodded gravely and sleepily.

"I can tell you some'n about him. I was his book...keeper 'n sec'tary. I know! I'll tell you some'n about him!"

"You can save your breath," said Rex coldly. "Why have you come here?"

"Because you're's nephew. Thas why! He robbed me...robbed me!" he sobbed. "Took bread out 'the mouth of innocent child...thas what! Took bread out 'f orphan's mouth and robbed me, swin'led me out of my share Mancurian Trading Syn'cate, an' then gave me remittance 'n said, 'Drink yerself to death'--thas what he said!"

"And did you?" asked Tab sardonically.

The stranger eyed him unfavourably.

"Who's this?" he demanded.

"This is a friend of mine," said Rex, "and you're in his flat. And if the only business you have is to abuse my uncle you can get out just as soon as you like."

Mr. Wellington Brown tapped the young man's chest with a grimy forefinger.

"Your uncle is a rascal! Get that! A low thief!"

"Better write and tell him so," said Tab briskly; "just now I am engaged in churning out two yards of journalese, and you're disturbing my thoughts."

"Write to him!" roared Mr. Brown delightedly; "write to him! Thas good...best thing I've heard for years! Why--!"

"Get out!"

Babe Lander threw open the door with a crash, and the visitor glared at him.

"Like ungle, like nephew," he said, "like nephew, like lackey...I'm goin'. And let me tell you--"

The door slammed in his face.

"Phew!" said Babe, wiping his brow. "Let's open the window and let in some fresh air!"

"Who is he?"

"Search me," said Rex Lander. "I've no illusions about Uncle Jesse's early friends. I gather that he's been a pensioner of the old boy's, and there is probably some truth in his charge that he was robbed. I cannot imagine uncle giving money away from charitable motives. Anyway, I'm seeing him to-morrow, and I'll ask."

"You'll see nothing," said Tab. "Do you ever read the fashionable intelligence or society news? Uncle is leaving town to-morrow."

Rex smiled.

"That is an old trick when he doesn't want to be seen--by Joab! It is the Wellington who has put his name in the society column!"

Tab paused, pen in hand.

"Silence will now reign," he commanded, "whilst a great journalist deals adequately with the Milligan Murder Appeal."

Rex looked at him admiringly.

"How you can stick your nose at the grindstone is a source of wonder to me," he said. "I couldn't--"

"Shut up!" snapped Tab, and the desirable silence was his.

He finished the last page at eleven, sent off his copy by a punctual messenger, then filling his pipe, stretched himself luxuriously in his mission chair.

"Now I'm a free man until Monday afternoon--"

The hall telephone signalled at that moment, and he got up with a groan.

"Boast not!" he growled. "That is the office or I'm a saint!"

It was the office, as he had so intelligently foreseen. He snapped a few words at the transmitter and came back to the room. And Tab was very voluble.

A Polish gentleman concerned in certain frauds on insurance companies had been arrested, escaped again, and having barricaded himself in his house, was keeping the police at bay with the aid of boiling water and a large axe.

"Jacko is enthusiastic about it," said the savage Tab, speaking thus disrespectfully of his city editor; "says it is real drama--I told him to send the dramatic critic. Gosh! I did his job the other night."

"Going out?" asked Rex with mild interest.

"Of course I'm going out, you thick-headed jibberer!" said the other unkindly as he struggled into the collar he had discarded.

"I thought all that sort of stuff was invented in the office," said the young architect monstrously. "Personally I never believe what I read in newspapers..."

But Tab had gone.

At midnight he joined a little group of police officers that stood at safe range from the besieged house, whose demented occupant had found a shot-gun. Tab was with them until the door of the house was stormed and the defender borne down and clubbed to a state of placidity.

At two o'clock in the morning, he and Carver, the chief of the detectives engaged in the case, adjourned to the police mess and had supper. It was half-past three and the streets were lit by the ghostly light of dawn when he started to walk home.

Passing through Park Street, he heard the whir of wheels and a motor-car flew past him. It had gone a hundred yards when there came to him the explosion of a burst tyre. He saw the car swerve and stop. A woman alighted and examined the damage. Apparently she was alone, for he saw her open the tool-box on the running-board and take out a jack. He hastened his footsteps and crossed to the middle of the road.

The only other person in sight was a cyclist down the road who had dismounted and was examining his wheel.

"Can I be of service?" asked Tab. The woman started and turned. "Miss Ardfern!" he said, in astonishment.

For a second she seemed uncomfortable, and then with a quick smile:

"It is...Mr. Tab! Please forgive the familiarity, I cannot remember your other name."

"Don't try," he said, taking the jack from her hands; "but if you are very anxious to remember, I am called Holland."

She said nothing whilst he was raising the car. When he was knocking the torn wheel free, she said: "I was out rather late; I have been to a party."

There was light enough for him to see that she was dressed very plainly and that the shoes she wore were heavy and serviceable. He would have gone farther and said that she was dressed poorly. Inside the car on the seat by her side was a square black case, smaller but deeper than a suit-case. Perhaps she had changed her clothes--but for all their surprising agility in this direction, actresses do not change their clothes to go home from a party.

"I have been to a party too," he said, jerking off the wheel and rolling it to the front of the car: "a surprise party, with fireworks."

"A dance?"

Tab smiled to himself.

"I only danced once," he said "I saw the gentleman taking aim with the shot-gun and danced right merrily, yo ho!"

He heard the quick intake of her breath.

"Oh yes...it was the Pole. We heard the shots and I knew that he had taken refuge in his house before I left the theatre."

The wheel was replaced now, the tools returned, and the old wheel strapped to the car.

"That is O.K.," said Tab, stepping back. "Oh no, it was nothing," he said hastily as she began to thank him, "nothing at all."

She did not offer to drive him home. He rather hoped that she would; indeed, her method of going was a little precipitate, and she was out of sight before he realized that she was gone.

What on earth was she doing at that time in the morning, he wondered? A party she had said, but again it occurred to him that fashionable actresses did not go to parties in that kind of outfit.

Rex was awake when he reached home and came out to him. Strangely enough, although they discussed the happenings of the night, Tab did not mention his meeting with Ursula Ardfern.