by John Creasey
“Supposing they don’t bite?” Mark said.
“Then we’ll have to try again.”
“Supposing they do bite?” demanded Tennant.
Roger smiled. “There’s my man ! You’ll be at hand. There is a flat next to the Cartiers which we can use — the tenants will be out but I’ve had their permission to use the flat. It has a lounge window next to the Cartiers. Outside Bonnock House there are little balconies — a man of your agility can easily climb from one to the other. I’ll be in the Cartiers’ lounge and you’ll be on the balcony. I’ll leave it to you when you come in ! They’ll probably try to be violent, but that won’t worry you ! Er — have you ever jumped through a pane of glass ?”
Tennant beamed. “I’ve jumped through every tiling!” he declared.
“Don’t cut yourself,” Roger said. “Well now — I’ll have to be busy. As soon as the message is phoned to Mrs Cartier I want her phone disconnected. Then you’ve got to be installed next door . . .”
He continued, outlining his plans; and by half past three everything was settled. Then he telephoned the Yard, to learn that reports showed no developments except that Sloan had left a message to say that Abbott and Martin had left the Yard, and had gone to AZ Division — that part of the East End which included Rose Street and Leech’s pub. Then, before he rang off, he was told that Oliphant had left his Chelsea house at three-fifteen.
Roger was at Piccadilly when he made the inquiries and he drove immediately to Bonnock House. Crossing the Heath, the quickest route, he remembered Dixon’s story of its loneliness.
He reached the Cartiers’ flat at four-fifteen.
The maid who had reminded him of Pickerell opened the door and told him, a shade too quickly, that neither Mr or Mrs Cartier were at home.
“I’ll wait,” Roger said.
“I don’t think —” the maid began.
Someone in another room said : “No, I don’t!”
Roger smiled. “Take my card in, please. Don’t make it difficult for yourself.”
The maid looked reluctant, but she took the card, approached the door from which the voices were coming and tapped, gingerly. Cartier’s voice was sharp.
“What is it?”
“Excuse me, sir, but a gentleman from —”
Roger put his hand to the door and opened it wider. He almost banged into Cartier, who was coming forward. Behind Cartier was his wife, sitting on the settee where she had greeted Roger on that evening which now seemed an age ago. She looked startled; there was hardly any sign left of the rough treatment from Malone.
“What the devil are you doing here?” Cartier demanded.
“I am a police officer,” Roger said, formally. “I would like you to answer a few questions, sir.”
“Why, West!” exclaimed Mortimer Oliphant, rising from an easy chair and smiling widely. “Well, well, how small a place London is!”
The solicitor’s interruption seemed to startle Cartier, who closed the door on the maid. Mrs Cartier extended a hand which Roger carefully ignored; that made her frown. Oliphant, well dressed, smiling, handsome in his dark fashion, spoke heartily.
“I’d no idea that you knew West, Mrs Cartier !”
“Only in the way of business,” said Roger. He glanced at the set tea-table, seeing that there was early lettuce, jam, what looked like real cream and cakes and pastries. Mrs Cartier rang a handbell and the maid appeared.
“Bring another cup for the Inspector,” said Mrs Cartier. “You will have some tea, won’t you ?”
“Thank you,” said Roger, formally.
“We were just discussing a remarkable thing,” said Oliphant, who seemed too anxious to talk. “I received a message asking me to visit Mrs Cartier on Society business and she received one purporting to come from me — but neither of us sent such a message !”
Roger smiled. “No,” he said, “I sent them.”
Cartier exclaimed : “Mr West, you may be a policeman, but I insist on an explanation.”
“Don’t get impatient, darling,” urged Mrs Cartier.
Oliphant said curtly: “That’s a surprising admission, West.”
“I knew that you and Mrs Cartier did a great deal of business together and wanted the opportunity of meeting you at the same time. I couldn’t think of any other way of arranging it.” He smiled pleasantly. Oliphant was wary, Mrs Car- tier’s smile was obscure, and Cartier appeared to be really bewildered.
Oliphant demanded : “Is this visit official ?”
“Haven’t I made that clear?” asked Roger.
“In that case —”
“But not necessarily aggressive!” Roger assured him. He settled back in his chair and waited for the maid to bring in another cup and saucer, knife and plate. When she had gone, he went on : “I think I ought to be frank with you, Mrs Cartier. Your organisation had been used to hide the activities of a criminal organisation which —”
“But of course !” she said. “I told you it had !”
“I wonder if you realise quite how widespread and powerful an organisation it was,” said Roger. “We have been able to find most of the active supporters and many of the people who helped in the work. Unfortunately, we haven’t found who was really directing the organisation unless it was someone in this room.”
He beamed.
“You have no right to make such slanderous suggestions !” said Cartier angrily, but he turned to his wife. “From the very beginning I disliked the idea. If you had not interested yourself in such a charity, this would never have happened !”
“Now, darling,” said Mrs Cartier. “I don’t think —”
“You’re behaving very aggressively, West, aren’t you?” asked Oliphant.
“How much did you know about this yourself?”
For the first time the solicitor looked really worried. “Are you suggesting —”
“Hasn’t your usual informant sent the warning?” asked Roger. “Yes, Oliphant, you, personally. I have a warrant for your arrest. Also I have one for —”
“If you think my wife —” Cartier began, starting violently. He knocked over his cup, which fortunately was empty. The spoon struck a salt-cellar standing near the lettuce, and salt spilled over the table. “Damn !” ejaculated Cartier. He took a pinch of salt and threw it over his left shoulder, talking as he did so. “If you have the impertinence to suggest that my wife was a party to this criminal business, I shall insist —”
He went on and on and Roger eyed him steadily.
In his mind’s eye he saw Cartier about to follow his wife and stepping into the road to avoid walking under a ladder. He had another picture of Cartier uncrossing dessert knives in this very room. He saw the man throwing salt over his shoulder.
Cartier stopped and Oliphant said : “This is outrageous, West.”
“Is it?” asked Roger grimly. “Mr Cartier, you are obviously very superstitious. Did my meeting with Oliphant on the 13th of December really upset you so much ?”
OLIPHANT broke the silence, making a good show of
Cartier stiffened, Oliphant uttered a sharp exclamation, and the room was very quiet.
CHAPTER 24
A Man Brings a Warning
OLIPHANT broke the silence, making a good show of annoyance and yet pretending not to show it in front of Roger.
“I’m afraid West is getting rather beyond himself,” he said. “If he has developed peculiar ideas about unlucky dates, we need hardly treat his visit seriously.”
“Oh, but you should,” Roger said.
“Damn your impertinence!” snapped Cartier. “I demand a full explanation and an unqualified apology.”
Roger shrugged. “You’re trying hard, aren’t you? Oliphant, we knew last night that you were up to your neck in this, but we waited for you to make a move. You didn’t make it so I forced your hand. I expected you to hear from your informant at the Yard, but he’s been very remiss, hasn’t he?”
“Don’t be a fool!” snapped Oliphant.
“I’m not being,” Roger insisted. “I’ve told you that I have a warrant for your arrest. I have one for Mrs Cartier, too. I can take Cartier away with me, too.” He laughed at them all, but the only one who seemed unaffected was the woman. “I thought this little talk would clear the air,” he added, cheerfully. “You see, before it’s really finished, as far as we are concerned at the Yard we want to find out who has been selling you information and who has been condoning your crimes. Who is it?”
“I have nothing to say, except that this is a grotesque abuse of your authority,” Oliphant snapped.
“Who is it, Cartier?” Roger demanded.
“You must be quite mad !” Cartier was almost shrill.
“You wouldn’t know, Mrs Cartier, would you?” asked Roger. When she made no answer he went on : “This isn’t working out very well. Everything pointed to Mrs Cartier but she first gave me reason to suspect the Society, and I couldn’t see her deliberately attracting attention to herself. Superstitions played an obvious part, and when I saw a manifestation of superstitiousness on your part, Cartier, I wondered whether your hostility towards the Society was really sincere. I thought if I could get you all here together, with the telephone wires disengaged, and that’s easy, for a policeman ! — and we had a heart to heart talk, I might be able to put everything in order. If Mrs Cartier has been an innocent victim of the conspiracy, I don’t want to make trouble for her. Mrs Cartier, you began to suspect what was wrong when you put in the tape-recorder, didn’t you? You hoped to find out whether your worst fears were realised. You knew Oliphant was in it, as well as Pickerell and Lois Randall, but you only suspected your husband’s complicity.”
“West, stop this !” Cartier shouted.
“Be quiet!” snapped Roger, and he was surprised when the man subsided. “Mrs Cartier, you knew all that was being done. Your husband — as well as you yourself — had friends all over the Continent. You probably started the Society to help those friends who escaped, but I don’t think you had any desire to extend the scope of it. It was extended however, and then you became afraid of it. You would not take any direct action until you were sure. You heard that I was being framed, and so you came to see me, hoping that I would add two and two together. Well, here’s your answer. Your husband was in it.”
“There is not a scrap of truth in anything you say,” declared Oliphant.
“I’m waiting here for the proof,” Roger said. “You’ve worked through one of the officials at Scotland Yard, that is definitely established. He will move, he’s bound to because he is afraid that when you are arrested you will betray him. He will come to warn Cartier to get away. He will be told that you, Oliphant, left Chelsea and came here and he’ll be equally anxious to warn you. He’ll know that in handling the matter I made a significant omission. I didn’t have police protection at Bonnock House. He will probably think that I can’t handle it on my own.”
“Perhaps he does,” murmured Oliphant, but Roger ignored him.
“He’ll be fairly confident because he has the authority to remove any police who might come to the flats,” Roger continued, “that is one of his advantages, isn’t it?”
Oliphant said in a queer voice :
“Is it, West?”
“Oh, yes.”
“And do you think you know this individual?” asked Oliphant.
“I do,” said Roger.
“Perhaps,” said Oliphant. “Perhaps you’re right, West.” He looked at Cartier and said with a twisted smile : “You were certainly right, Sylvester. The 13th undid us.”
“Don’t be —” began Cartier.
“There’s no need to worry,” Oliphant said, slowly. “West came alone. He was so anxious to make sure that his colleague didn’t become suspicious, and has grandiose ideas about bringing off a coup by himself. He’s here alone. We can handle him. If he has a warrant for me, it will be exe-cuted, either by him or someone else.” There was a curious smile on his face. “West is no fool. He knows that I have been a party to more than one murder — don’t you, West? The police have a case for murder against me — as an accessory. There’s no hope for me.”
“I’m glad you realise it,” Roger said.
“But I may as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb,” said Oliphant. He put his hand to his pocket and drew out an automatic, levelling it casually at Roger. “If I shoot him,” he said dispassionately, “it will put the finishing touches to the case, but you and Antoinette need not suffer. You can tell the whole story — how West thought you were in it, how he accused me, but I confessed to being the leader and how I shot myself after shooting him. It will be quite convincing, won’t it?” He looked at Mrs Cartier, and in spite of his tension, Roger understood why Oliphant should behave like this.
Oliphant was in love with the woman!
“Well, West, what do you think of your scheme now?” Oliphant said.
Roger said slowly : “You told me that I wasn’t sane.”
“Meaning that I’m not? Oh, I don’t know,” said Oliphant. “I have been feeling the strain lately. Nothing has worked out as I expected, and this will be the most satisfactory end. Don’t imagine that I am sacrificing myself for Cartier. I think it is the only way in which —” he drew a deep breath — “everyone can be happy?”
The woman was looking at him.
“Don’t make such admissions !” Cartier cried.
“It can’t do any harm,” said Oliphant. “Only West is listening and he won’t be able to talk — but his men will come before long.” He stood up and backed towards the window. “Don’t try to stop me, Sylvester. Curious,” he added. “I wonder if it would have worked out differently but for your inhibitions? The unlucky 13th — it always frightened you, didn’t it? And it seemed so easy to divert suspicion to West, and satisfy you. With West in jail, our real informant would have been quite safe, which was much more important than easing your mind about the 13th ! But we don’t need to tell West everything, he can fill in the details himself — in the next world!” Oliphant laughed, softly. “When our man comes from the Yard to warn us, he’ll find West and me dead. You can tell him what has happened, and he will be able to wind up the case most satisfactorily. You’ll say that West came here alone to try to extort more money. You’ll make it plain that he is the renegade after all, the tape was a trick. Then you can start all over again.”
He smiled and levelled the gun.
Roger thought: “Hurry, Tennant, hurry!” He fancied that he had seen a shadow at the window, but was not sure. He wondered whether he had relied too much on ‘unarmed combat’ and the remarkable agility of Bill Tennant. Then he saw the shape at the window, of Tennant standing on the ledge.
Cartier gasped : “Oliphant, look!”
Tennant launched himself against the window, smashing the glass with his elbows and knees, keeping his chin tucked well down; he wore a crash-helmet. The crash made Oliphant swing round, and Roger jumped to his feet and overturned the table. At the same time there was a banging at the door, then footsteps in the hall. Tennant, with a scratch on his right cheek and another on his hand, fell upon Oliphant. They hit the ground together.
The gun flew from Oliphant’s hand. Cartier made a movement towards it, but his wife held his wrist.
“No,” she said in a tense voice. “No, not that!”
Roger watched this tense drama of human emotions as if he were standing a long way off. It made no difference to the issue, all but one thing was over, now — yet there was a fascination in the relationship between the man and his wife.
Cartier said : “You started this, you bitch ! If it hadn’t been for you this would never have happened.”
The door opened and the maid, frightened and trembling, admitted Mark.
Mrs Cartier said : “I couldn’t let it go on, I simply couldn’t. But you’ll be free one day. Don’t do anything to
Jet them hang you. You know nothing about the murders.”
Cartier struck her savagely across the
face. She turned away and Roger put a hand on the man’s shoulder.
Tennant was brushing himself down. Oliphant was sitting on the floor, looking up stupidly.
“Well, that didn’t take long,” Tennant said, almost wistfully. “Anyone else coming, West?”
“Soon, I hope,” Roger said.
Neither Oliphant nor Cartier spoke again. Roger handcuffed them to each other in another room, with Mark and Tennant to watch them. He gave the maid careful instructions, then returned to the lounge. Mrs Cartier was standing by the window, her face expressionless and her cheeks colourless. Roger looked out and saw one of Morgan’s men at the street corner, just walking out of sight.
He wondered whether Abbott would come. He did not feel like talking, although he wished the woman would break the silence. Suddenly, she turned and took a cigarette from a box on the table. She looked at him levelly as he lit it for her.
“How long have you known that my husband was involved in the crimes?”
“Not very long,” Roger said.
“Did I so much as hint at it?”
“You did not,” Roger assured her. “You did all you could, Mrs Cartier, to hide that. I wish —”
“Please!” she said, then went on slowly. “I have always been afraid of it, but what could I do, what could I do? He — is my husband. I could not bring myself to believe it. Gradually, I learned what was happening, how they worked, what Pickerell did, what poor Lois Randall was forced to do. But for the agonising fear that Sylvester was concerned, I would have told the police much earlier. When I learned about you —” she drew a deep breath. “You know what I did. I told him, also, to warn him. When he did not show any resentment I thought, I prayed, that I was wrong. But that record — the 13th — I knew how superstitious he was, how everything worried him — spilled salt, ladders — a hundred things.”
Roger said : “How much more do you know, Mrs Cartier?”
“Not much more than you must know already,” she said. “Oliphant arranged most of it, I think. My — my husband knew the people whose goods were sent here. He was always friendly with those in authority on the Continent, but so were many others. I knew a little of Malone. I learned much from tapes which you have not heard; I hid them, but you will be able to use them now.” She went on tonelessly. “They showed up everything, Inspector. One says that the man Leech was to be killed, the ‘Chief’ had ordered it — always they talked of the “Chief”, never did they give him a name. I tried to pretend that there was hope even if it were my husband. I should have known better. I knew that Malone and his men were employed sometimes, that there was a policeman who gave information away — he had done so for several years. When it appeared that some policeman suspected it, it was decided to make out that you were the man. That satisfied — superstition, as well. Malone introduced this policeman to Pickerell. I do not know who it is.”