Читать книгу Ambition's Slave - Fred M. White - Страница 6

Table of Contents

OF the darker side of human nature Minter was a perfect judge. He knew perfectly well that there was no need to press Desborough further. The man had only one vulnerable point, and that was his ambition. He was hard and keen and shrewd; from early manhood he had made up his mind to become a Cabinet Minister. And now he knew perfectly well that only one feeble life stood between himself and his goal.

Unfortunately he had made too much haste to become rich. He knew the value of money, and he had longed for it. He had gambled and speculated, with the result that he was up to his ears in debt and difficulty; every month that he had struggled along only landed him deeper in the mire.

And here was a way out of it. Minter had bought up all his bonds with a view to force him to betray the interests of his clients. And he could do so without anybody but Minter being any the wiser. Once that was done he would be free from debt. His ordinary trade creditors did not trouble him in the least. To a man making his income at the Bar they mattered little. He might have made more money still by his profession had he not been so keen on politics.

All this passed through Desborough's mind as he tossed and turned on a sleepless pillow. He did not debate the matter at all; in his heart of hearts he felt quite certain that he should do exactly what Minter requested. Otherwise he might just as well end it all by a leap from Waterloo Bridge.

There was no trace of all these conflicting thoughts on Desborough's face as he came down to the Law Courts presently. He was perfectly master of himself now. As he turned into the building he came face to face with Minter. The short, thick-set figure of the millionaire was clad in tweeds; he had a soft felt hat on his head. He came forward and shook hands as if he and Desborough had parted the best of friends.

"Got anything important on?" he asked.

"Nothing very striking," Desborough said grimly. "A little case where you are more or less interested—at least you may be interested later on."

"Only indirectly," said Minter indifferently. "Can't always be answerable for the folly of one's servants, you know. By the way, have you heard the news? My secretary Clive is engaged to Miss Beaumont."

Desborough took the blow smilingly. He had been forewarned.

"So Clive told me last night," he said. "A good thing for him. There will be a run on millionaire secretaryships by penniless men about town after this."

"Clive has more money than Miss Beaumont," said Minter. "He merely took up city work under the terms of his father's will. So long!"

The men drifted apart. Minter's parasite Bigglestone came gliding up, a small, lithe man with a crafty face.

"That looked all right," he said meaningly.

"Exactly what I said it would be," Minter replied. "He'll do it, or rather, he will leave it undone. Otherwise he would never have talked to me in that friendly manner. The last prop is cut away, too. He hoped to marry Miss Beaumont. If he could have got her consent last night he would have snapped his fingers at me. As it is, my secretary very kindly took the job from off my hands. Your interests in our little venture are quite safe, Bigglestone."

"Don't forget that Price is to be called," Bigglestone whispered. "Price feels that he has been a victim. He thinks that if we had played him up fairly he would never have landed in Portland. He only comes to verify a signature to one of the many documents in the case, but he might get a chance of telling a tale or two."

Minter's eyes gleamed.

"I gave you a free hand," he said. "I told you not to spare money. You intimated last night that you had a scheme to—"

"And so I have. Once let me get the ear of Price and I'll soon square him. But it is Ericsson that I am afraid of."

"I tell you that Desborough does not ask any dangerous questions."

"Perhaps not. But Ericsson is one of the greatest cowards in the world. He has been drinking a great deal lately to steady his nerves. As a matter of fact, he has knocked his nervous system all to pieces. For two days I have kept him well in hand, with the result that I had to give him brandy to-day to make anything like a man of him at all."

Minter's deep brows came together in a heavy frown. He was playing desperately for a heavy stake, and his path was strewn with thorns. It was just possible that one of his own tools might cut him, but if he could see today well over, he did not care for the future. He passed into court with a jaunty air, but his heart was beating a little faster than usual. It rested entirely on Desborough whether the case took a sensational turn or not; on the broad issue Minter did not mind whether he got a verdict or not.

For some time the case proceeded smoothly. Presently the Crown counsel announced his intention of calling a witness. The usher took up the cry, and the name of Ericsson resounded far and near.

The man came at length, white and shaking, with a lip that trembled and a hand that grasped the edge of the witness box like a drowning sailor. He seemed to be terribly frightened about something.

Yet he gave his evidence fairly well. Evidently he had been carefully coached. Minter listened with his head well down. He had no desire to confuse the witness by meeting his shifty glance. Desborough was approaching the point where the fatal questions might or might not be put.

"It's coming," Bigglestone whispered to his client.

"Hold your tongue, fool," Minter muttered between his teeth. "Those questions are not going to be asked at all. Once that chap is out of the box we shall be safe. We are quite clear up to now."

All the same the witness was getting confused. He could not remember anything. He was mixed up in his mind with a certain man called Price. If Price could say this or that he would be able to proceed. Minter listened, with the big veins in his forehead swelling with anger.

"Who is this Price?" the judge asked impatiently.

"Forthcoming witness, my lord," said Desborough, "whom I shall call."

"Call him now," the Bench suggested. "Let this witness stand down."

Desborough bowed. Price was on the lips of the usher. They called again, but there was no response. There was just a minute's pause when a messenger handed a telegram up to the solicitors' table. One of the attorneys there read it with a start, and then passed it on to Desborough. The few spectators in court thrilled with the expectation of a dramatic surprise. They were not disappointed.

"A most extraordinary thing has happened, my lord," Desborough said. "This is from Sergeant Farringdon, who was sent down with two constables to bring the man Price from Portland."

"The man Price being a convict!" the judge said.

"Precisely, my lord. It appears that the convict and the escort got safely as far as Clavering, where there is a stay of a few minutes. It is a small station, and there were few people about. Without any warning five or six men came from another carriage, overpowered and maltreated Farringdon and the constables, and drove off with the prisoner in a dog-cart. The sergeant adds that recapture is inevitable, but it may be a day or two before it takes place."

A murmur of surprise followed this extraordinary statement. Minter sat with his face still hung down, but there was a look of fiendish satisfaction upon it. So far as he could see the situation was absolutely saved.

"Was this your scheme?" he whispered to Bigglestone.

"It was," the latter chuckled, "and a precious good one too, I flatter myself. A fiver apiece did the trick, with railway fare. You may be pretty sure that I shall see Price before the police get a chance. I wouldn't take £30,000 for my share in our little venture now."

"A most astounding thing!" the Bench murmured. "Under the circumstances, what do you propose to do, Mr. Desborough?"

"There is no alternative but to ask for an adjournment for a few days, my lord," said Desborough. "We cannot get on very well without the man Price, and we must give the police some little latitude. Say Monday?"

"Very well. The case is adjourned till Monday. Call the next, please."

Minter slipped out of the court, followed by Bigglestone. He was a strong man, but he did not disdain the brandy that he called for at the nearest bar. Desborough came out of court more slowly and thoughtfully. He felt that he had a reprieve. He had not abandoned honour yet. He still had a chance.