Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
Zero the Slaver, by Lawrence Fletcher.
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________________________________________________________________________ZERO THE SLAVER, BY LAWRENCE FLETCHER.
CHAPTER ONE.
MISSING.
1,000 Pound Reward.
The above-named Sum will be paid to any person giving information whichwill lead to the discovery of the whereabouts of a young Englishmannamed Richard Grenville, who was last seen at Durban on 15th December,1877.
Apply to Masterton and Driffield, Advocates, Port Natal.
Facing this striking announcement, and with his back to the StandardBank of South Africa, in Durban, stood, one morning in July, 1880, awiry-looking, clean-shaved man of about five- or six-and-thirty, dressedin a rough grey homespun suit.
Man after man paused, read, marked, learned, and, no doubt, inwardlydigested, the contents of the advertisement, then passed on his waywithout giving the matter a second thought--beyond, perhaps, halfwishing, in a lazy sort of way, that he knew something about this manwho seemingly was so much wanted by his own people. But our grey-coatedfriend still stood there, and appeared to be literally devouring theannouncement.
At length he turned sharply away with a muttered "Hum! It's a big pile.Five thousand dollars--now, I wonder if--" But here his keen eye notedthe stoppage of another person--a fashionably-dressed man--before theadvertisement, which seemed of considerable personal interest to him,judging from the way he stared at it, and from the fact that his cigardropped from his lips, which mechanically opened with an involuntaryexclamation the moment the wording caught his eye. Quickly recoveringhimself, the man glanced keenly at grey-coat, who was, however,diligently charging his pipe, and then he, too, like his predecessors,passed on his way.
"Snakes!" muttered our friend. "Now, I wonder who that swell is, andwhy this lay startled him so infernally. Reckon I'll have to get youweighed up before I clear, old chap;" and, lighting his pipe, he movedbriskly away in the direction of Masterton and Driffield's office.
Arrived there, he in due course expressed to a young clerk his desire tointerview one of the principals on the subject of a considerableinterest which he proposed to acquire in certain land at Durban, andvery shortly found himself closeted with Mr Driffield.
"I have called, sir," he said, "to see you regarding this advertisementof yours for one Richard Grenville, and to learn what further detailsyou can afford me beyond the information given in the announcement."
Our friend, be it observed, was something of a curiosity. Athorough-bred Yankee, he seldom or never indulged in "Americanisms" ofany kind except when soliloquising, which he had a singular habit ofdoing whilst deducing his own peculiar theories.
"Oh!" said the lawyer, in a somewhat aggrieved tone. "My clerk statedthat you wished to consult me with regard to the purchase of some land.That advertisement was only printed off last night, and if we have hadone call concerning it, we have already had at least two hundred."
"I didn't choose to let your clerk know my business, or anything aboutme, Mr Driffield," replied grey-coat curtly; "but here's my card, sir,and now let me hear all you've got to say, without further loss oftime."
Mr Driffield took the pasteboard, read it, and stared blankly at theother, who laughed quietly, and then reached out his hand, which thelawyer grasped in most unmistakably hearty fashion.
"Why, God bless me, Kenyon," said he, "I should never have known you inthis get-up; but look here, come and dine with me to-night, and we'll goright into this business. You are the one man I would have chosen forit out of all the world, and I shall be very much mistaken if I haven'ta good twelve months' work for you. To-night, at seven, at theAthenaeum, then. And now `good morning,' for I'm up to the eyes inwork. Oh! by the way, Kenyon, if you haven't read this book, do so atonce, there's a good fellow, for it contains a full account ofGrenville's South African adventures, and your perusal of it willprepare my way, and save me going over most of the old ground againto-night." So saying, the lawyer dismissed his visitor, who was noneother than Stanforth Kenyon, the keenest and wiliest detective New Yorkcould boast of--a man born to his profession, and consequently anornament to it.
At five-and-twenty Kenyon was an unknown, but--having regard to hisliterary merit--an overpaid scribbler on one of the big New Yorkdailies; but now, only ten years later, he was universally admitted tobe the most unerring sleuth-hound of the whole shrewd band of secretpolice owning allegiance to Uncle Sam, and whose business in SouthAfrica at the present time, needless to say, was known only to himself.
At once retaking his way to the hotel he had left that morning, thedetective settled down to read the book in question, ["Into theUnknown"] and in a few hours' time had mastered its contents, and layquietly back in his chair, smoking, and thinking deeply.
After a further hour had been expended in this comforting and, no doubt,edifying fashion, he took out a well-worn notebook, and wrote severallines therein in shorthand; then, returning the book to his pocket, hestarted out for a stroll, and seven o'clock saw him seated opposite tothe lawyer, and enjoying most thoroughly the excellent dinner providedfor him by that worthy gentleman.
"And now," said Mr Driffield, when the cloth was removed and both menhad lighted their cigars, "let me have your opinion of `Into theUnknown,' or, rather, as to what extent the events narrated therein mayor may not bear upon the present disappearance of our friend Grenville."
"First," said the detective, calmly begging the question, and taking outhis notebook, "who are you working for, Mr Driffield? I mean," headded, quickly, "is it some relation of Grenville's who is anxious aboutthe missing man, or have you yourself any personal interest in thesearch?"
"None at all," was the reply. "Let me be quite frank with you, Kenyon.I am employed by his cousin, Lord Drelincourt, who shared his adventuresamongst the Mormons, and my lord is in no end of a taking about him.You see, the two men were like twin brothers all their lives, and nowthat Lord Drelincourt has lost his wife and child, he feels alone inlife, poor fellow, and would give his whole fortune to have his cousinby his side."
"How very sad," commented the detective. "So he took poor Dora Winfieldhomo only to bury her. How did it all happen?"
"No one knows," said the little lawyer, dropping his voice. "Poor LadyDrelincourt and her one-year-old boy were found dead in bed one morning,without even the suspicion of a mark of violence upon them.
"My lord was away from home when it happened, and the shock almostunseated his reason, and for weeks after the sad event he was down withbrain fever. Though quite a young man, his hair turned snowy-white whenhe realised the awful extent of his cruel loss, and awoke from his longillness only to find that his dead had long been buried out of hissight. Doctors and detectives were called in at the time, buteverything was in vain. The detectives were hopelessly at fault, andthe only theory the doctors could advance was that mother and child hadbeen chloroformed to death.
"The servants were old family retainers, and were entirely beyondsuspicion, being all of them passionately devoted to their sweet youngmistress, and bound to their loved master as much by his personal worthand goodness as by the unbroken ties of voluntary servitude during threegenerations.
"And now, Kenyon, will you undertake the case? The reward is alreadywell worth working for, great though the risks may be; but I canundertake to _double it_ if you bring our man in alive. You will get afine sporting holiday up country, with all expenses liberally providedfor, and in point of fact it is the opportunity of a lifetime--orpe
rhaps I ought to say that to anyone but yourself it would be such."
The detective sat thinking for awhile, and then said, "See here, MrDriffield; this is a large order--a very large order--and I must justreason the matter out in my own way; but I'll let you have my answer byor before this time to-morrow. Your man may be only shooting in the farinterior, or camping out in this infernal secret territory of theMormons, or he may be--well, elsewhere."
The two then separated for the night, the lawyer going straight to thetelegraph station, and in a few minutes more the submarine cable had thefollowing message flashing over it:--
"To Drelincourt, London.
"Splendid man probably available; terms, two thousand and expenses.Shall I secure him?
"Driffield."
Arrived at his hotel, the detective sought his own room, lighted hispipe, and puzzled over his notebook for upwards of an hour, idlydrumming on the table with his fingers, and listlessly turning over theleaves pregnant with flotsam and jetsam of criminal interest, andglancing from time to time in a half-attentive, half-indifferent fashionat a number of pencilled faces which adorned its earlier pages.Suddenly, however, his attention became riveted, the man's face seemedas if turned to stone and his whole expression transformed whilst hegazed fixedly at one portrait as if unable to believe his eyes.
"Gods!" he cried at last, springing excitedly to his feet; "I have it!Aha! Master Zero, we shall meet at last, and then look out foryourself, my friend, for if ever I entertained hatred and malice and alluncharitableness, it is towards you, and with good cause; and, Heavenhelping me, before next year is out, I'll pay you back a little of thedebt, the fearful debt, I owe you."
Quickly he also proceeded to the cable offices, and a few minutes lateranother message--this time in cypher--traversed the ocean depths, asfollows:--
"To Heliostat, New York.
"Kingdom rage offing."
Which being interpreted meant--
"To the Chief of Police, New York.
"Wire latest information Zero's movements."
Early next morning the cable company handed out two messages, first to--
"Driffield. Port Natal.
"Secure at any cost. Wire result."
Second to--
"Wilkinson, Alexandra Hotel, Durban.
"Noughts and crosses hades horrify handfast holy ostrich."
Meaning--
"Sailed for England 15th April, 1879; left France for Madagascar aboutSeptember same year."
Eagerly seizing his message, the detective hurriedly mastered itscontents, and with an emphatic grunt of satisfaction started offinstantly for the lawyer's office, and an hour later yet another messagewas flashed across the seas--
"To Drelincourt, London.
"Secured; starts immediately."
To which Mr Driffield was considerably astonished to receive the promptreply--
"To Driffield, Port Natal.
"Let him wait my arrival. Sail _Tartar_ to-morrow, bringing all needfulequipment.--Drelincourt."
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His lordship arrived in due course, and the lawyer was inexpressiblyshocked at the change which had taken place in the appearance of hisclient. The man looked twenty years older, but was nevertheless strong,vigorous, and stern, and the detective noted with secret joy thehard-set lines in his patron's face, and felt that here at least therewould be no faltering or shrinking, no quarter given and none required,when the bitter end came; for bitter did this astute man-hunter alreadyfeel certain that the end would prove to be.
The two men were fast friends in a very short time, and one of hislordship's earliest instructions to Kenyon and the lawyer was to concealhis identity as far as possible by addressing him simply under hisfamily name of Leigh, by which he had been known when a younger son,and, in all human probability, the reverse of likely to become a peer ofthe realm.
Months later, Leigh and Kenyon, with their full complement of nativebearers, bade a long farewell to the shores of the mighty lake ofVictoria Nyanza, and struck out boldly into central Africa, steeringhard and fast by the equatorial line.
Leigh, as we shall continue to call Lord Drelincourt, was naturallycurious to know why the detective, who held the compass and took all theobservations, should be so extremely particular about his latitude, butthat worthy either could or would give no explanation, and Leigh hadalready acquired such implicit confidence in every action of hisself-constituted guide, that he let himself be led blindly whithersoeverthe American chose to take him, feeling that the man was either workingconfidently upon "information received," or that his faculty of instinctwas so finely developed that he was unlikely to make any very seriousmistakes.
As a matter of fact Leigh was right to a certain extent, for startingwith a theory of his own, which had the rooted belief of Zero'scomplicity in the disappearance of Grenville for its point of departure,the American, whilst waiting the arrival of his patron from England, hadworked up several slender clues, and had afterwards elaborated them in amanner calculated to have made his yet far-distant foe feel the reverseof comfortable, had he been conscious of the very tender interest takenby an outsider in the most trifling actions performed by him during thepast, both distant and relatively near.
By careful watching, and by shadowing in a variety of inimitabledisguises, Kenyon, who was an infinitely better actor than many a manwho makes his living "on the boards," had soon unearthed, becomeintimate with, and pretty well "weighed up"--to use his own expression--the gentleman who had exhibited such unequivocal signs of dismay whenunexpectedly confronted with the advertisement concerning Grenville, andthe detective had satisfied himself that this fellow, Crewdson Walworthby name, was a man with a history, could he but find it out--a history,moreover, which instinct assured him would prove to be of the greatestservice to the Grenville search party at the present juncture. More, healso knew for a fact that his friend Crewdson corresponded in cypherwith someone at Zanzibar, but even the cunning of Stanforth Kenyon hadtotally failed to ascertain who that someone was, or by what name he orshe was designated, or, indeed, to get out of Master Crewdson Walworthanything else at all worth knowing.
The detective, however, had put two and two together, and had built up atheory in his usual cautious fashion, and every step of the ladder,though most rigidly and thoroughly tested, had thus far proved to beabsolutely correct, and his deductions to be altogether justified by thecourse of events.
Zero the Slaver: A Romance of Equatorial Africa Page 1