The Bulldog Drummond Megapack

by H. C. McNeile

  A faint smile flickered round Kalinsky’s lips.

  “This Gregoroff of whom you speak: whom is he acting for?”

  “Himself, m’sieur,” answered Veight promptly.

  “And is he the man you mentioned at the beginning, with whom you have to split?”

  “He is,” said Veight, and paused, listening intently. Then like a flash he crossed the room and flung open the door.

  “What are you doing here?” he snarled.

  “Tidying up, sare,” came the aggrieved voice of a waiter.

  “Then get out, damn you. This place is quite tidy already. My apologies, gentlemen,” he said, coming back into the room, “but in my work one develops a sort of sixth sense. And tidying up can cover a multitude of keyholes.”

  CHAPTER X

  “Such was the situation,” continued Veight as he resumed his seat, “when Gregoroff got into touch with me. He did that for two reasons. First it struck him that it would probably not be a one-man job; and secondly because I have worked in England and knew the ropes far better than he did. And the instant I heard what he had to tell me I threw over everything else on the spot.

  “The problem that confronted us was obvious; the solution was not. This man Waldron was a bachelor, living in a small house on the outskirts of Surbiton. He had one old woman servant who did all the work of the house. Further—and this was important—he was of independent means, and did no work beyond his chemical research. If, therefore, it became necessary to abduct him, there would be no office from which he would be missed and which would start a hue and cry. And it seemed to us, when we discussed the matter in Amsterdam, that in all probability abduction would be necessary.

  “Our reasoning was as follows. Here was a presumably patriotic Englishman, since he was serving in their Territorial army, and a man of sufficient wealth to do no work. It was therefore very improbable that we should be able to bribe him, especially as he would realise that we were both foreigners. Moreover, if we attempted to and failed, it would at once put him on his guard. And so we decided that our only chance was this. Study the house, study his ways, and at a suitable moment visit him with the definite intention of knocking him on the head and removing him to some safe place where suasion, moral and otherwise, could be brought to bear on him. Which necessitated our finding a suitable pied à terre. An hotel or lodgings were obviously out of the question: it had to be a private house.

  “And there I came in. During the course of that little job I did for you, m’sieur, I had come across a certain Doctor Belfage. He was an unpleasant little specimen, but he was a prominent member of the Key Club. And since then I had heard that he had got into trouble and had had his name removed from the medical register. But what was important from our point of view was that he had a house near Cambridge which was most eminently suitable for our purpose. It contained a central room which was practically sound-proof, which the doctor used as a laboratory, and which would form an admirable prison for this man Waldron should he prove obdurate. That settled, we crossed to England by a route not usually taken by passengers, and successfully eluded the authorities. Gregoroff, in particular, might have had considerable difficulty in landing.

  “The first thing to do was to get in touch with Belfage, and I travelled up to Cambridge while Gregoroff lay low in London. And there we got our first setback: the doctor had let his house and was living elsewhere. But though I didn’t say anything at the time, I wondered very much who and what this man Meredith, who had taken the house, might be. I was tolerably convinced, shall we put it, that he had never been a candidate for Holy orders. However, he gave me the doctor’s address, and I left him.

  “The doctor, I am afraid,” continued Veight, “was not overjoyed at seeing me. But on my reminding him of a certain incident in his past he decided it would be better to overcome his reluctance and give me some of his valuable time. And so we adjourned to his study.

  “‘Still a member of the Key Club,’ I remarked on seeing the badge in his coat. ‘I hear you’ve had a little trouble with the medical authorities, Doctor.’

  “‘Purely professional,’ he assured me. ‘What can I do for you, Herr Veight?’

  “‘I wanted the temporary loan of your other house, Doctor,’ I said. ‘Who is that man Meredith who has it?’

  “A glance at his face told me that I had taped Meredith correctly, and we both fenced for a while. Then I took the bull by the horns and told him what I wanted.

  “Gentlemen, I don’t think I have ever seen a man look so completely dumbfounded. He positively goggled at me.

  “‘Waldron!’ he stuttered. ‘Waldron! What do you know about Waldron?’

  “‘Evidently just what you do,’ I said. ‘I want the secret of that gas, and I’m going to have the secret of that gas. Do we work together or do we not? Waldron has got to be made to speak. Are you going to help me, or do I work on my own?’

  “‘What do you propose to do?’ he asked at length.

  “‘That, at present, is nothing to do with you,’ I answered. ‘But this much I will tell you. I know his address in Surbiton, and he is going to be put through the hoop.’

  “‘You propose to abduct him?’ he said.

  “‘Put it that way if you like,’ I remarked.

  “‘Then there’s mighty little good your going to Surbiton,’ said the doctor.

  “‘Why not?’ I cried.

  “‘Because you won’t find him there. He’s been abducted already.’

  “‘Well, m’sieur, it was my turn to do a bit of goggling now; it was the last remark I’d expected. Somebody had got in in front of us. Who was it? I dismissed the possibility of his lying; the matter was so very simple to verify. So I let him talk, and it soon became obvious he wanted to get rid of me.’

  “‘I fear, therefore, there is no good your wasting your time, Herr Veight,’ was the line he took up.

  “‘Don’t worry about my time, Doctor,’ I said. ‘I’ll look after that end of the business myself. Am I to understand that this man Waldron is being held a prisoner by the Key Club?’

  “It took some time for him to answer; in fact, gentlemen, everything to start with had to be dragged out of him with a corkscrew. But after a while he admitted that that was the case. Waldron had been a captive for more than ten days.

  “‘In order to make him reveal the formula of his gas, or to prevent him making any more?’ I asked.

  “‘In order to get the formula,’ said the doctor. ‘There is one step in the process known only to him.’

  “‘And when you have the formula, what is your next move?’ I remarked.

  “He hesitated and stammered, and finally stated that the next move would be what the rules of the Key Club ordered. The secret would be passed on to everyone interested.

  “Well, m’sieur, I knew that was their rule, but I also knew my doctor. He had pocketed a wad over the Giuseppi affair, and I couldn’t see him in the role of an altruist. So I tackled him fair and square.

  “‘Are you a liar or are you a fool?’ I asked. ‘For you must be one or the other.’

  “He wasn’t offended. As you must have guessed by now, he’s a pretty poor specimen. So when he found I wasn’t going to be bluffed he came out with the whole thing. And a very pretty little business it was.

  “By some ruse or other Waldron had been decoyed to the house where he was now held prisoner. This house belonged to a man called Hoskins who, the doctor informed me, was a genuine Key Club idealist, and a man whom no one would suspect for an instant of anything crooked. A telegram had been sent to the servant saying that he would be away for a few weeks, and during that period the secret was to be extracted. Then Waldron would be free to go.

  “What was going to happen to Mr. Hoskins when Waldron went to the police about it was entirely Hoskins’s affair. And according to the doctor, Hoskins was such a complete fanatic that he wouldn’t mind.

  “‘And where, my dear Doctor,’ I remarked at this juncture, ‘do y
ou come in? You most certainly are not a complete fanatic, and I can’t see you going to prison for the doubtful pleasure of passing the secret of this gas on to the nations at large. Can it be possible that you are hoping somehow or other to get away with the formula yourself and pass it on to one nation?’

  “And it was obvious that that was exactly what he had been hoping to do. He hadn’t made any definite plan, but that was what the little rat had in his mind.

  “‘Excellent,’ I said. ‘We now know where we stand. And since this thing is much too big for you to handle on your own, think how lucky you are that you now have me to help you. Is Waldron at that house of yours near Cambridge?’

  “No, he was not. He was at a house called Horsebridge, belonging to Hoskins.

  “‘What,’ I demanded, ‘is the exact place in the jigsaw filled by the Cambridge house?’

  “It was to act as an alternative prison in case Waldron was traced at Horsebridge.

  “Who was Meredith?

  “Meredith was a gentleman with a pretty taste in handwriting, who would come in useful if any letters had to be written purporting to come from Waldron.

  “Did Hoskins know that he was consorting with a forger, amongst other people? Hoskins believed Meredith to be truly repentant, and anxious to do his bit in the great cause. ‘But where and how,’ I persisted, ‘do you propose to double-cross Hoskins? If Waldron is persuaded to tell his secret there is only one possible method of doing so. You’ve got to murder him.’

  “No; a thousand times—no. Nothing of the sort. He was quite pained at the mere thought.

  “‘Then what is your idea?’ I cried furiously. ‘You’re not a half-wit. Unless you murder Hoskins, how can you prevent him passing on this formula?’

  “He looked everywhere except at me, until I could have struck the little devil. And finally I issued an ultimatum. I told him that unless he was absolutely frank with me, I would send an anonymous communication to Scotland Yard giving the whole thing away. It was bluff, of course; if the miserable worm had called it I hadn’t a leg to stand on. But he didn’t.

  “I wonder, m’sieur, if I might have a glass of that excellent wine. Much talking is making me dry. And I am now coming to the bonne bouche. Thank you a thousand times.”

  Veight drained his glass, and replaced it on the table.

  “The bonne bouche, gentlemen. Doctor Belfage was far from being a half-wit. I told you, did I not, that I had two military secrets to sell you. You have heard the first; I am now coming to the second. Have you ever heard of the Graham Caldwell aeroplane?”

  “No,” said Kalinsky. “I have not.”

  “Nor had I until that day. And very few people have heard of it at all. Working in an almost inaccessible part of the Highlands is a young Scotch engineer. He is apparently a genius on aeronautical construction, and he has been experimenting on a machine of his own which is as much in advance of any existing aeroplane as the present-day car is in advance of the previous type. His staff consists of two or three fitters and one trusted mechanic. It is a private enterprise without Government support, so there are no troops or anything of that sort guarding the place. And it was on this spot in Scotland that the doctor really had his eye fixed.

  “The information came from one of the fitters, who was a humble member of the Key Club. And if one-half of what this man reported was true, the performance of the machine was simply incredible. I am no expert in flying, but even I was impressed by what I heard. A few final details still remained to be perfected; then the plans of the machine would be complete. And the doctor was waiting till that was done before striking.

  “‘Does Hoskins know of this?’ I asked him.

  “He did not.

  “‘What, then,’ I said to Belfage, ‘is your plan?’

  “It was a simple one. When Waldron had been abducted one small cylinder of his gas, and only one, had been found in his laboratory. And this had been removed, and was in the house at the moment. The doctor’s idea was to wait till the plans of the aeroplane were finished, and then go to Scotland with the cylinder. The fitter would introduce it into Graham Caldwell’s office, and while the inventor and his mechanic were powerless, Belfage would steal the plans. He would then offer them to the highest bidder. If in addition to that he could get away with the secret of the gas as well, so much the better. But it was clear that he attached far greater value to the former.”

  “One moment,” said Kalinsky. “Did this man Hoskins not realise that this cylinder was in existence? Because if he did, since publicity was all he desired, all he had to do was to have the gas analysed by an expert, and publish the result.”

  “Exactly, m’sieur. That point occurred to me. And that is why Doctor Belfage had not mentioned the cylinder at all. He had realised how valuable it would be to him with Graham Caldwell, and so, fearing Hoskins would do just what you said, he had lain low about it.”

  “So, Herr Veight,” said Morgenstein, “if I understand you aright, the situation when you first came into the matter some—”

  “Four weeks ago.”

  “Some four weeks ago, was as follows. Waldron was a prisoner in Hoskins’s house at Horsebridge, where efforts were being made to compel him to reveal the secret of this gas. Unknown to Hoskins this doctor had the secret in his possession.”

  “He had the cylinder, Herr Morgenstein, but he did not know what the contents were.”

  “Quite; quite. He had the cylinder, but he could not find out what the contents were without wasting them. And once they were wasted they could no longer be used against Graham Caldwell.”

  “Exactly,” said Veight.

  “Since, however, the final plans of the aeroplane were not yet finished, Doctor Belfage in conjunction presumably with that other man you mentioned—”

  “Meredith.”

  “Meredith was playing a waiting game, until the time was ripe to strike. They would then get the plans of the aeroplane which Hoskins knew nothing about; and, if they could—though that was a secondary matter—get the secret of the gas to themselves.”

  “Exactly,” repeated Veight. “You have given the situation in a nutshell.”

  “And what, might I ask, Herr Veight, was your reaction to this little scheme?”

  “In the words of the homely English idiom, Herr Morgenstein, it struck me that it was money for jam. In fact, beyond playing a waiting game there was nothing for Gregoroff and me to do. That the worthy doctor’s ideas on who lived and died might have to be changed a little, was neither here nor there. Also it was advisable for him not to know that he was going to get very little out of it himself: it might have damped his ardour. He could not, of course, give either Gregoroff or me away to the police, without giving himself away at the same time. And so I suggested that he should introduce us to the imbecile Hoskins as two fanatical members of the Key Club from abroad, and that we should take up our residence either at Horsebridge or his house near Cambridge.

  “It was to Horsebridge that we finally went. And a few words about the house itself would not be out of place. Originally it must have been the fortified keep of some medieval baron. Made of thick stone, it was completely surrounded by water, and the only means of communication with the shore was by way of a drawbridge. The old dungeons still existed, dank and mildewed, though they were shut off from the rest of the house, which was warm and modernised. And in these dungeons Mr. Hoskins, the idealist, had confined Waldron.

  “Well, gentlemen, it takes a good deal to surprise me, but I must confess that that man Hoskins had me guessing. We all know that a fanatic in any shape or form is capable of refinements of cruelty which would make a savage blush. One has only got to remember the crimes that have been committed in the name of religion. But Mr. Hoskins won in a canter.

  “In appearance he looks a most saintly creature. His hair is white; his features are ascetic. He walks with a slight stoop, and wears pince-nez. In short, he looks like the conventional ideal of a country clergyman.


  “He welcomed us effusively; his gullibility was almost incredible. Everything that Belfage told him about us he swallowed; we were brothers with him in the great faith.

  “‘Stay as long as you like,’ he said. ‘This creature Waldron is stubborn; he refuses to speak. In fact I sometimes think that it may be necessary to kill him. Better, far better, that one man should die, rather than thousands be murdered by his infamous discovery. I have tried to make him see reason; I have explained to him our ideals. But he is stiff-necked; he persists in harping on the fact that he is an Englishman, and that his vile gas is for England’s use and hers only. He even has the audacity to call me a traitor. But I do not fear the ultimate result; there is no man yet who has ever survived the ordeal. The drug is infallible.’

  “‘What are you doing, Mr. Hoskins?’ I asked, and even as I spoke a swarthy black-haired man entered the room.

  “‘Tell them, Cortez,’ said Hoskins. ‘They are of our order. Tell them of the drug that breaks the strongest nerve.’

  “The new-comer stared at us suspiciously; there was nothing gullible about him. Then he whispered something in the old man’s ear, who shook his head vehemently.

  “‘No; no,’ he cried. ‘They are of our order. Tell them.’

  “The man called Cortez shrugged his shoulders.

  “‘Marijuana,’ he said in a surly tone. ‘A Mexican drug.’

  “And Gregoroff whistled under his breath.”

  Veight paused and lit a cigarette.

  “Gentlemen,” he continued, “it was a new one on me, but not on Gregoroff. Known to drug addicts as Mary Jane, its effects are literally terrible. As a general rule it is made into cigarettes, but it can also be administered subcutaneously. And after a while it reduces a man to such a pitiful condition of nerves that he ceases to be a man. He becomes a gibbering wreck, scared out of his life by the slightest trifle. His brain refuses to act; terror of he knows not what holds him in its grip, until in the end he puts a bullet through his brain or else ends up in a lunatic asylum. And this was the drug that the saintly Mr. Hoskins was administering daily to Waldron.