I say that advisedly, for Cain arrived at Latchet on Monday afternoon.
Myself, I saw his car turn out of the village street and into the forecourt of the inn. Since he came from the south, he must, I think, have travelled by train to Villach and motored from there. I could not see him alight, for the forecourt was out of my view; but he clearly paid off his driver and let him go, proposing, no doubt, to use Forecast’s car himself; for, after a moment or two, I saw the car leave the forecourt and turn back the way it had come.
An instant later came cries which actually reached my ears, and Boney, then Gulf and then Forecast erupted out of the forecourt, all running like so many stags the way the car had gone, and yelling and whistling like madmen in the hope that the driver would hear. Cain, most plainly bewildered, followed them into the road and stood looking after the three with his mouth a little way open and a hand to his head. He can have had no idea that, unless the car could be caught, neither he nor anyone else could move from the inn; for there was no time to explain, if its driver was to be stopped.
I was certain they could not catch it, for the driver had had a fair start; but the judgment of men who are desperate is often warped, and three or four minutes went by before the three reappeared, all of them streaming with sweat and looking ready to burst. That they were arguing fiercely goes without words, and when Gulf, who had clearly fallen, held out a palm which was covered with dust and blood, Forecast struck it aside like a naughty child.
By the time they reached the forecourt, Cain had withdrawn from my view, but I could not help feeling that what had just occurred would not raise the tone of the interview now to take place. Indeed, I was sorely tempted to try and approach the inn, but Mansel had made me swear that, unless Cain arrived after dark, I would do no such thing. So, since it was not yet three, I turned on my heel and made my way back to the car.
Cain was a long, lean fellow, sallow of face. He had stood, looking after the others, for full two minutes before he turned back to the inn – this, with his hat in his hand and little dreaming, of course, that he was being observed. So, since my binocular was powerful, I saw him extremely well. He was, I judged, about forty-five years of age. His hair, which was very black, had gone well back from his forehead, thus seeming to lengthen a face which was over-long. He was carefully dressed in clothes which befitted his calling more than the countryside, and a pair of spats was surmounting his highly polished shoes. The expression of his face never altered, whilst he was standing there; and this was a curious smirk, as though he were nursing some jest, which he meant to keep to himself. Since he could have had nothing to laugh at, I wondered then if he always looked like that: and I afterwards found that he did – that the grin upon his face was a fixture, as were the slightly raised eyebrows and parted lips. And then, I remember, I thought of how Shakespeare had said, ‘That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain.’
Little happened during the next three days.
Cain hired a car from Villach, no doubt by telephone, and this arrived at Latchet on Tuesday afternoon. Directly the driver had reported, he was carried off by Boney to look at the rogues’ own car; and after a short inspection, I saw him discover the trouble – namely, that the rotor was gone. Then Boney went off, to return with Forecast and Cain. Cain tried to question the man, who kept on shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head. Then they all looked up at the window by which I had entered the coach-house two days before, and Cain said something to Forecast which made him look very grim.
Very early the following morning Forecast was driven to Villach – at least the car went that way and was back at Latchet, without him, under the hour. I think Cain had sent him to Salzburg, of course by train, to obtain another rotor by hook or by crook; for he had a parcel with him, which might have been the now useless distributor. At ten Cain left for Varvic, as we had known he would. Since Carson was watching the castle, he saw him arrive. There he stayed until nearly four, and then returned to the inn. A train from Salzburg reached Villach late that night, and I think Forecast came by that, for early on Thursday morning the chauffeur and Boney were working on Forecast’s car. Exactly what they were doing, George, who was watching that morning, could not see, but they seemed to be fitting another distributor. Since they had not the requisite tools, the work went very slowly and cost them a lot of sweat, and when some spanner had slipped for the fourth or fifth time, the chauffeur sat down on the step and put his head in his hands. Indeed, Cain had to be fetched before he would move; and after some consultation he left once more for Villach, no doubt to fetch the tools which he said he required. Still, at five o’clock that evening, the engine of Forecast’s car was running again, and the hired car returned to Villach on Thursday night.
And here perhaps I should say that every two days we sent a letter to Salzburg, telling the Duchess exactly what had occurred. And the one which we sent on Thursday reported that the wreck of her coupé had been retrieved and presently carried away.
It was upon Friday morning that the enemy moved.
In a word, Cain came to Goschen and sent in his card. And Forecast and Boney with him.
“What is your game, Captain Mansel?”
“To see justice done.”
“That’s very vague,” said Cain.
“I don’t agree.”
Cain fingered his chin.
“That sort of reply,” he said, “is hardly conciliatory.”
“I have neither need nor desire to conciliate people like you.”
“I see. And Varvic? If Varvic likes to move, he can have you run out of the country in twenty-four hours.”
“Then why doesn’t he do it?” said Mansel.
Cain shrugged his shoulders.
“For all I know, he prefers to deal with you here.”
“That,” said Mansel, “will suit me down to the socks.”
“He’s a powerful man,” said Cain.
“He’s a first-class swine,” said Mansel, “if that’s any good.”
Cain looked away.
“He happens,” he said, “to be a client of mine.”
“That,” said Mansel, “does not surprise me at all.”
“So is Major Bowshot.”
“Then he can’t know your reputation.”
Cain looked away again.
“I find that remark equivocal.”
“Few people would.”
There was a little silence.
Then—
“You’re not very helpful, Captain Mansel.”
“Did you expect me to be?”
Cain shrugged his shoulders.
“I had hoped you might see reason. I should hate to have to go to the Austrian police.”
“That I can well believe.”
“And you?”
“I can go to the police when I please. My hands are clean.”
“That,” said Cain, “is a matter of opinion.”
“On the contrary,” said Mansel, “it is a matter of fact. I repeat, my hands are clean.”
Cain regarded his finger-nails.
“A solicitor,” he observed, “is sometimes badly placed.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“A client errs: his lawyer must either desert him or – be prepared to soil his own hands.”
“I see,” said Mansel. “Which course do you usually take?”
“That depends upon the client.”
“And his means.”
There was another silence.
Cain looked at George and myself. Then he returned to Mansel.
“I should very much value,” he said, “a few words with you alone.”
“No,” said Mansel. “But you can have Forecast in.”
“I do not admit Mr Forecast to consultations like this.”
“Is that so?” said Mansel.
Cain cleared his throat.
“I propose to speak frankly,” he said.
Mansel said nothing, and presently he went on.
&
nbsp; “The first that I knew of this business was when a wire signed WENSLEY was brought to me on Saturday morning last. Biretta, my partner, was cruising – is cruising now. I sent for his managing clerk and asked what it meant. Then the whole story came out. I was inexpressibly shocked – and determined to leave at once, to see what could be done.
“It was my intention, on arrival, to send Forecast and his satellites home. But since they had – er – lost their passports, I could not do that.
“Then I drove to Varvic, to see the Duke.
“These Austrians are not like us. The man’s outlook is purely feudal. He holds the opinion that he is above the law. He regarded Biretta as an agent…an agent who had bungled his orders…orders which should never have been taken – which never would have been taken, if I had known what they were.”
“Why did you go to see him?”
“To counteract any impression which Forecast might have made. To tell him that I would not act nor permit my partner to act one moment longer for such an impossible man.
“But before I had been with him two minutes, I altered my mind. The man was beside himself, and I had to play for time. He gave me orders, Captain Mansel, that you and your companions should be destroyed forthwith. When I ventured to demur, he declared that he would detain me until the deed had been done. He did in fact detain me for nearly four hours, behind locked doors. In the end he allowed me to go, because I pointed out that, unless he did so, I could not give orders to Forecast whom I had left at the inn. And so I received his instructions and presently left. But, before I did so, he took my passport away…
“Captain Mansel, the man is dangerous.
“I know the plans he has made – plans which, with or without Forecast, he means to execute.
“Now, in self-defence, I am ready to tell you these plans. You see, I’m being perfectly frank. I say ‘in self-defence,’ for the man has taken my passport, and once his will has been done, I shall be in great danger, because I know too much.
“You said a few minutes ago that you wished to see justice done. What exactly you meant by that, you declined to say; but I can tell you this – that, if Duke Saul were to come to a sudden end, no one on earth could contend that justice had not been done.” The man leaned forward. “To you, once you know his plans, the Duke’s – er – elimination will be child’s play itself.”
“Indeed,” said Mansel. “And your passport?”
“I was coming to that. I can get another, of course – by applying to the British Consul. Before I took such a step, I should like to feel assured that I was not to suffer for what my partner had done.”
Mansel said nothing to that, and presently Cain went on.
“You have, I think, certain papers; papers given by Biretta to Forecast, before he left. I understand that they bear the name of my firm. The production of those papers, coupled with the undeniable fact that I had been in Austria – undeniable, because of my visit to the British Consul – would identify me with action of which I knew nothing, much less ever took.
“And so, in self-defence, I ask for those papers back. In return, I’ll tell you the plans Duke Saul has made, put Forecast at your service and lend you my utmost assistance to bring down this dangerous man.”
“I’m sure you will,” said Mansel. “To use your own expression, ‘he knows too much.’”
Cain shrugged his shoulders.
“I told you,” he said, “I was going to be perfectly frank. Thanks to Biretta, I find myself in a jam. Well, I want to get out.”
“You don’t mind ‘deserting’ your client?”
“The man is not my client. If Biretta had been in England, d’you think that I should be here? The man is Biretta’s client, and the mess is Biretta’s mess.”
“On paper Duke Saul is a client of Worsted and Co.”
“Naturally. But Biretta has his clients, and I have mine. And only if one is away, does the other deal with his business as best he can.”
“I see. Tell me this, Mr Cain. Why are Worsteds so anxious to be able to prove beyond doubt that Major John Bowshot is dead?”
Cain shrugged his shoulders.
“I’ve no idea. I assume that the Duke was insisting–”
“You’re wrong. The instructions given to Forecast make it quite clear that Worsteds – and not the Duke – desired most definite proof that Major Bowshot was dead.”
“You amaze me.”
“I don’t think I do. Those instructions were typewritten. Do you ask me to believe that no copy was kept?”
“If it was, I never saw it. Biretta being away–”
“Look at that,” said Mansel, and gave him a telegram.
Sunday, October 7th
Cain left Croydon at noon today Biretta came with him to airport and saw him off
Cain read it carefully, nodded, and handed it back.
“One to you,” he said. “Never mind. My offer stands. In fact, I’ll go further. Give me those papers back, and Forecast shall finish the Duke.”
Such calm effrontery hit me between the eyes, but Mansel appeared to take it as a matter of course.
“I’m not playing, Mr Cain.”
“Quite sure?”
“Quite sure.”
“No counter-proposals?”
“None.”
Cain got to his feet.
“In that case, I must be going.”
“Sit down,” said Mansel. “I haven’t done with you yet.”
Cain glanced at his wrist.
“I can give you another five minutes.”
“You will give me as long as I please.”
Cain looked very hard at Mansel. Then he sat down.
“Yes?” he said.
“First, I should like your passport.”
Cain stared.
“My passport’s at Varvic – I told you.”
“I know,” said Mansel. “I didn’t believe you then and I don’t believe you now.”
Cain leaned back on the sofa and crossed his legs.
“D’you propose to search me?” he said.
Mansel nodded.
“Unless you hand it over.”
“Then that’s that,” said Cain, rising. He lifted his arms. “I’ve never been searched before, but I have an idea that this is the traditional pose.”
“It’s good enough,” said Mansel, and stepped to his side. “Will you do the searching, William? I’ll see that he doesn’t move.”
As I took the man’s left lapel—
“Try the right breast-pocket,” snapped Cain.
I could hardly believe my ears; but, when I did as he said, I found his passport there.
I gave it to Mansel, and Cain resumed his seat. “Your score’s mounting up, Captain Mansel.”
Mansel inspected the passport. Then he slid it into his pocket and folded his arms.
“What?” he said. “Oh, my score. Quite so. But it’s going to mount very much higher – from your point of view. But that’s by the way. Now one thing I wanted to say was that you and Biretta are very, very anxious to be in a position to prove that Major Bowshot is dead. So anxious, in fact, that you contemplate planting a corpse, upon which, when the police are called in, will be found his name and address.” He pulled out Cain’s passport, ran through its leaves and then held an envelope up. “Faked, of course; like the other. But it does bear out what I say. Well, now please get this, Mr Cain. If any such body is found, your instructions to Forecast will immediately be laid before the appropriate authorities.”
Cain said nothing, but merely looked at his watch. “Another thing is this. I received you today, but I shan’t receive you again. Or any of your crew. So make no more advances. I want to make myself plain. Come again, and you come at your peril. I’ll ‘fire on a flag of truce,’ and any attempt at bluff will be treated as it deserves.
“I can’t say I’m sorry to have met you; for I’d heard a good deal about you, and I was glad of a chance to see for myself. But, to quote the Queen of S
heba, ‘Behold, the half was not told me.’ I’ve met a lot of blackguards; but, all things considered, I give you pride of place. That may be unfair to Biretta; but if he is less virtuous than you are, then, if he believes in Hell, he must be afraid to die.
“Finally, let me commend you to do your worst. We shall not swerve from what we set out to do. And that, if you remember, was ‘to see justice done.”
Cain looked again at his watch.
“Quite finished?” he said.
“Yes.”
“Good.” The man got to his feet. “You see, I’m lunching at Varvic at half-past twelve.”
“I see.”
“What’s my best way from here?”
“I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
Cain laughed and turned on his heel…
With his hand on the door, he turned.
“Take care of that passport,” he said. “Sooner or later, you see, I shall ask for it back. And if, then, it isn’t forthcoming…”
“I’ll put it with the others,” said Mansel.
For the first time Cain showed emotion. Twice he tried to make answer, and twice he failed. Then, with a working face, he turned and flung out of the room; and Carson, who was at the front door, let him out of the house.
We heard the slam of a door and an engine leapt into life. And then the crunch of gravel told us the car had gone.
Mansel lifted his voice.
“Bell and Rowley,” he cried.
A moment later the servants entered the room.
“Anything to report?”
Bell replied.
“Boney stuck to the car, sir, an’ never moved.”
“I don’t blame him,” said Mansel. “Go on.”
“But Forecast got out, sir, and started walking about. Then he began to stray, so I stepped out and asked him to keep to the car.”
“What did he say or do?”
“He asked if we’d found his eye-glass. And I said ‘No.’ ‘Well,’ he says, ‘that eye-glass was very precious. There’s twenty quid for the fellow that brings it back.’”
Mansel smiled.
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