CHAPTER EIGHT
PRESENTS ANOTHER PROBLEM
When, by slow degrees, I became aware of things about me, I foundmyself in total darkness, save that, straight before my eyes, some fewfeet away, showed a thin, narrow line of light.
Next second, a flood of the most horrible recollections surged throughmy brain. I dare not move a muscle, fearing that the reptile waslurking near my face. My senses seemed dulled and dazed, yet myrecollections were quite clear. Every detail of those moments of awfulterror stood out clear and fearsome in my mind.
Slowly, so slow, indeed, as to be imperceptible, I managed to turn myhead aside, and glance at the small table. But it was in darkness. Icould distinguish nothing. To my surprise, I discovered, however, thatthough I still remained in that position, my legs higher than my head,yet the arms of the chair had unclasped, and my bonds had been freed!
What had happened?
In fear of bringing the watchful reptile upon me, I moved slightly.But there was no movement from that table in the darkness.
I waited, dreading lest I should be suddenly attacked. Then,summoning courage, I suddenly sprang out of the chair on the sideopposite the table, and dashed across to where showed that narrowstreak of light.
I saw that it came through the lower crevice of the heavy woodenshutters. With frantic haste my hands slid over them. I found an ironbar, and, this unlatched, I threw them back, and let in the broadlight of day.
For a moment my eyes were dazzled by the sunlight.
Then, on looking behind me, I saw that upon the table the candle hadburned itself to its socket, while on the floor, near by, lay thesmall black reptile stretched out motionless.
I feared at first to approach it. To its tail the cord was stillattached, but it had been severed. I crept towards it, and, bendingdown, realized with great relief that it was dead.
The leathern collar which had secured my head had been loosened andthe mechanism of the chair reversed, allowing me my freedom. I lookedaround the room in wonder. There stood the littered card-table and theempty glasses of the previous night, while the air was still heavywith the odour of stale cigars.
Making quite certain that the reptile was dead, I turned my attentionto the chair, and noted how cleverly the devilish mechanism had beenhidden. It could, as I had suspected, be worked from without. Thevictim, once seated there, had no chance whatever of escape.
In the light of day, the room--that fatal apartment wherein more thanone innocent man had, no doubt, met with a horrible end--looked veryshabby and dingy. The furniture was cheap and tawdry, and the carpetvery dirty.
There, upon the card-table, stood the ink, while the pen used byReckitt lay upon the floor. My wallet lay open near by. I took it upquickly to glance through its contents. As far as I could discover,nothing had been taken except the cheque I had written out, believingI was to assist Jack Marlowe.
Eagerly I glanced at my watch, and found it was already a quarter pastten.
The scoundrels had, no doubt, already been to the bank, cashed mycheque, and were by this time clear away!
Remembering Sylvia, I drew my revolver, which still remained in myhip-pocket, and, finding the door unlocked, went forth to search forher. The fact that the door was now unlocked showed that some one hadentered there during my unconsciousness, and released me. From theappearance of the snake, it seemed to have been killed by a sharp blowacross its back.
Some one had rescued me just in the nick of time.
I entered the front room on the same floor, the room whence thosewoman's screams had emanated. It was a big bare drawing-room,furnished in the ugly Early Victorian style, musty-smelling andmoth-eaten. The dirty holland blinds fitted badly and had holes inthem; therefore sufficient light was admitted to afford me a good viewof the large apartment.
There was nothing unusual there, save upon a small work-table lay someembroidery work, where apparently it had been put down. An open novellay near, while close by was a big bowl filled with yellow roses. Yetthe apartment seemed to have been long closed and neglected, while theatmosphere had a musty odour which was not dispelled by the sweetperfume of the flowers.
Had Sylvia been in this room when she had shrieked?
I saw something upon the floor, and picked it up. It proved to be anarrow band of turquoise-blue velvet, the ornament from a woman'shair. Did it belong to her?
In vain I looked around for a candle--for evidences of the samemediaeval torture to which I had been submitted, but there were none.
In fear and trepidation I entered yet another room on the same floor,but it was dusty and neglected--a kind of sitting-room, or perhapsboudoir, for there was an old-fashioned high-backed piano in it. Yetthere was no sign that anybody had entered there for weeks--perhapsfor months. In the sunlight, I saw that there were cobwebs everywhere.Surely it was a very strange house. It struck me that its owner hadperhaps died years ago, and since then it had remained untenanted.Everywhere the style of furniture was that of sixty years ago, andthick dust was covering all.
On entering the previous night I had not noticed this, but now, in thebroad light of day, the place looked very different. I saw, to mysurprise, that the windows had not been cleaned for years, and thatcobwebs hung everywhere.
Revolver in hand, I searched the place to the basement, but there wasno evidence of occupation. The doors of the kitchens had not,apparently, been opened for years!
Upstairs, the bedrooms were old-fashioned, with heavy hangings, greywith dust, and half hidden by festoons of cobwebs. In not a singleroom was a bed that had been slept in. Indeed, I question if any onehad ascended to the second floor for several years!
As I stood in one of the rooms, gazing round in wonder, and halfsuffocated by the dust my footsteps had disturbed, it suddenlyoccurred to me that the pair of assassins, believing that I had died,would, no doubt, return and dispose of my body. To me it seemedcertain that this was not the first occasion that they had played thedastardly and brutal game. Yes, I felt positive they would return.
I searched the place to find a telephone, but there was none. Thebogus message sent to me had been sent from elsewhere.
The only trace of Sylvia I could find was that piece of velvetribbon, the embroidery which had so hastily been flung down, and thebowl of fresh roses.
Why had she been there? The book and the embroidery showed that shehad waited. For what? That bowl of roses had been placed there to makethe room look fresh, for some attempt had been made to clean theapartment, just as it had been made in the room wherein I had sufferedsuch torture.
Why had Sylvia uttered those screams of horror? I recollected thosewords of hers. I recognized her voice. I would, indeed, haverecognized it among the voices of a thousand women.
I returned to the drawing-room, and gazed around it in wonder. If, asit seemed, Reckitt and Forbes had taken unlawful possession of anuntenanted house, then it was probable they would not return to getrid of my remains. The whole affair was incomprehensible. It seemedevident that Sylvia had not fallen a victim to the vengeance of thepair, as I had feared, but that perhaps I had owed my life to her.
Could it be that she had learned of my peril, released me, killed thevenomous reptile, and escaped?
Suddenly, as my eyes wandered about the dingy old room, I caught sightof something shining. A golden bangle of curious Indian design waslying upon the mantelshelf. I took it up, and in a moment recognizedit as one I had seen upon her wrist one evening while she sat atdinner at Gardone.
I replaced it, stood for a moment deep in thought, and then, withsudden resolve, returned to the chamber of horror, obtained my hat,and, descending the stairs, went forth into Porchester Terrace.
I had to walk as far as Bayswater Road before I could find a taxi. Thesun was now shining brightly, and there were many people about in thestreets. Finding a cab at last, I told the man to drive with all speedto my bank in Oxford Street.
It was just eleven when I went up to the counter to one of the payingcashiers I kn
ew, and asked him breathlessly if a cheque of mine hadbeen paid to a person named Reckitt. He saw by my manner that I was inhot haste.
"I've cashed it not a moment ago, Mr. Biddulph," was his reply. "Why,you must have passed the man as you came in! He's only this momentgone out."
Without a word I dashed back to the swing-doors, and there, sureenough, only a few yards away, I caught sight of Forbes, in a smartgrey flannel suit, entering a taxi. I shouted, but the taxi man didnot hear me. He was facing westward, and ere I could attract hisattention he was slowly moving in the direction of the Marble Arch.
The quick eyes of Forbes had, however, detected me, and, leaning out,he said something to his driver. Quickly I re-entered my cab, and toldmy man to turn and follow, pointing out the taxi in front. Mine wasopen, while that in which the assassin sat was closed.
In his pocket the scoundrel carried over a thousand pounds of mymoney.
My first impulse was to stop and inform a police-constable, but if Idid so I saw that he must escape. I shouted to my driver to try andsee the number of the cab, but there was a lot of traffic, and he wasunable to see it clearly.
I suppose I must have cut a sorry figure, dishevelled as I was by mynight's weird experience, and covered with the dust of that untenantedhouse. What the bank-clerk must have thought, I know not.
It was an exciting chase. For a moment we were held up by the policeat Regent Circus, for there was much traffic, but only for a briefspace; then we tore after the receding cab at a pace which made manypassers-by stare. The cab in which Forbes was, being closed, thedriver did not see us, but I knew that the assassin was watching usfrom the tiny window in the back, and was giving his driverinstructions through the front window.
My man had entered fully into the spirit of the chase.
"That fellow in yonder taxi has just stolen a thousand pounds!" I toldhim.
"All right, sir," replied my driver, as he bent over his wheel; "weshall catch him presently, never fear. I'm keeping my eye upon him allright."
There were many taxis coming into the line of traffic from Bond Streetand from the other main thoroughfares crossing Oxford Street--redtaxis, just like the one in which Forbes was escaping. Yet we bothkept our eyes fixed upon that particular one, the driver of whichpresently bent sideways, and shot back a glance at us.
Then he put on speed, and with marvellous dexterity threaded in andout of the motor-buses and carts in front of him. I was compelled toadmire his driving. I could only suppose that Forbes had offered himsomething handsome if he got safely away.
At the Marble Arch he suddenly turned down Park Lane, where thetraffic was less, and there gaining upon us, he turned into one of thesmaller streets, through Upper Grosvenor Street, winding in and outthe intricate thoroughfares which lay between Grosvenor Square andRegent Street. Across Hanover Square and along Hanover Street we sped,until, passing out on to the opposite side of Regent Street, thedriver, evidently believing that he had outwitted us, slowed down, andthen pulled up suddenly before a shop.
Ere the fugitive could escape, indeed ere the door could be opened, wehad pulled up a few yards away, and I dashed out and up to the door ofthe cab, my revolver gripped in my hand.
My driver had descended also, and gained the other side of the cabalmost as soon as I had.
I opened the door, and met the fugitive boldly face to face.
Next second I fell back as though I had received a blow. I stoodaghast.
I could utter no word. The mystery had, I realized in that second,been increased a hundredfold.
Hushed Up! A Mystery of London Page 10