Death on the Highway

by Death on the Highway (retail) (epub)

  “Too true,” said Garfitt.

  “So her reason for putting counters on numbers was not to win. That seemed odd. If she was working on a system, and she seemed so concentrated on what she was doing that this would seem the case, she would have particularly noticed when it was successful. But the sole object of her concentration seemed to be the selection of numbers on which to place her counters, and she went steadily on and on. Therefore it was the numbers themselves to which she attached importance and, although she never looked at me, not even the slightest raising of her eyes from the table, I felt certain that these selected numbers were for my special benefit.”

  “A code?” asked Garfitt, excitedly.

  “Exactly,” answered Harrison. “She was trying to tell me something by those numbers.”

  “Very ingenious,” said May Rich.

  “Remarkably so,” said Harrison. “So I started making a mental note of them. I got,” and he referred to a piece of paper in his hand, “1-4-9-1-9-1-1 and then, for she must have realised that I had tumbled to it, she let one round go. The end of a message, or for that matter, of a sentence only. She started again with 3-4-5 and then I found that she was going over the other numbers again. She stopped again at the same point and then began again with 3-4-5-1 and so on. That meant that the whole of her message was in the series of figures she was repeating, so I rushed out and wrote them down: 3-4-5-1-4-9-1-9-1-1.”

  “But how difficult to find a meaning,” commented Yvette Mallison.

  “Not so very difficult,” replied Harrison. “I agree that some codes can be amazingly difficult. They were during the great war. But then the aim was to baffle people who were already expert at deciphering them. Miss Esberg would not dare make it too difficult if she was trying to say something urgently to me. The simplest code is the alphabetical, 1 for A, 2 for B, and so on. I tried that and here is the first result. C-D-E-A-D-I-A-I-A-A.”

  “‘Dead.’ That’s something,” said Garfitt.

  “Unfortunately I thought the same,” said Harrison, “and that put me off for a long time. An announcement like that did not help much, and I could get no meaning out of the other letters. Then I realised that it was certainly possible that the whole of Miss Esberg’s message might not only include the first nine letters of the alphabet. That was rather restrictive. Another look at it made me suspicious of the A’s. They represented 1 and there were three likely combinations which might be double figures, and therefore letters further down the alphabet, 14, 19 and 11. Of course that made a tremendous difference. I then got the result C D E N I S K.”

  “Denis,” said May Rich.

  “That was much better,” said Harrison. “I had, at the back of my mind, the idea all the time that Miss Esberg wanted to speak to me alone. ‘Denis’ might be the name of a place connected with La Plage, so I turned to the map which you lent me, Mallison. Very difficult to study but it served its purpose. I found that down by the port, not very far from the Casino, there is an Avenue St. Denis.”

  “And you think Miss Esberg lives there?” asked Mallison.

  “I feel certain that she wants me to meet her there,” answered Harrison.

  “And the ‘C’ at the beginning and ‘K’ at the end?’ asked Garfitt.

  “Suppose we turn those back into figures,” suggested Harrison.

  “3 and 11,” said May Rich promptly.

  “Then the message would read,” said Harrison, “3-D-E-N-I-S-1-1. It may mean eleven o’clock at 3, Avenue St. Denis, or the other way round, three o’clock at 11, Avenue St. Denis. I incline to the first.”

  “That’s marvellous,” said Yvette Mallison.

  “It certainly sounds all right,” said Garfitt. “Are you going?”

  “Of course I am,” answered Harrison. “But we mustn’t forget it may be a trap.”

  “Do you really think so?” asked Mallison.

  “As a matter of fact, I know it is,” replied Harrison.

  “But what about all this paraphernalia of codes and mystery and everything else?” objected Garfitt.

  “All part of the bait,” was the answer. “First of all, think of this Miss Esberg. Did she strike you as being particularly brilliant?”

  “I shouldn’t have said so,” said Garfitt.

  “She has never given that impression in La Plage,” said Yvette Mallison.

  “And yet we agreed that this code with the boule counters idea was extremely ingenious,” said Harrison. “Are we entitled to think it wasn’t hers at all?”

  “Certainly,” answered Garfitt. “And where does that get you?”

  “That she was put up to it,” said Harrison.

  “But I shouldn’t have thought she would do a thing like that,” objected May Rich. “You say she is closely guarded. That must be because they are afraid she will communicate with somebody else. Surely she wouldn’t do anything to help the Crewes.”

  “She might be too afraid to do anything else,” said Mallison.

  “They are both excellent arguments,” said Harrison. “I myself am inclined to agree with Miss Rich.”

  “Then why did she do it?” demanded Garfitt.

  “Because she does not know it is a trap,” answered Harrison, “and really wants to get in touch with me.”

  “Mrs. Crewe’s planning again, you mean,” said Garfitt.

  “Exactly,” said Harrison. “To my mind this is Mrs. Crewe’s next move—the one we have been waiting for. Mrs. Crewe says she is a psychologist. She has tried all the simple traps with me, now she feels she has to get a bit more complicated. She knows a child could see that Drina Esberg is being guarded with the greatest care. I tested it myself by asking her to dance and being turned down by Mrs. Crewe herself. Therefore she assumes, quite rightly, that I should imagine that Drina wants to communicate with me. She is really more correct than she realised for, before I left London, I received an envelope addressed by Miss Esberg, although Mrs. Crewe didn’t know it.”

  “So she worked out the code idea to flatter your vanity?” said Garfitt.

  “Absolutely right,” answered Harrison. “She planned something which she thought would appeal to my ingenuity. if I may put it another way. The pride of the detective in getting a solution would blind him to the obvious fact that Miss Esberg hadn’t the brains to work out such a scheme. Possibly she had forgotten that point in her pleasure at the idea—a bluff like this needs a terrific attention to detail.”

  “She didn’t do badly, even then,” said Mallison. “But I don’t see how she got Drina to do it without spotting that she was being made use of.”

  “I work it out as something like this,” said Harrison. “First of all, Drina is informed that it will be impossible to guard her tomorrow, either at eleven or three. As I have said, plump for eleven. I expect they put her on her honour with all sorts of solemn warnings, but they didn’t expect her to take much notice of it. In fact, Mrs. Crewe’s idea would have been quite spoiled if she had. Then, I expect, Mrs. Crewe and Archie had a nice conversation at the Casino all to themselves. While I was dancing with Netta Crewe, I noticed them talking very earnestly to each other and Drina Esberg was trying to catch every word they said.”

  “They were telling her how it could be done,” said Miss Rich, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

  “My idea is that Mrs. Crewe explained to Archie how she would communicate with somebody else without anyone realising it,” said Harrison. “Archie discussed the details with her, as if it were just a pleasant little theory one played with in one’s mind. They made it so simple that even Miss Esberg could understand it. She must be rather foolish or she wouldn’t have tried it under their very noses and also, she might have been a bit suspicious when Archie allowed her to have unlimited counters to play with, but obviously she wasn’t.”

  “Mrs. Crewe is an exceedingly bright spark,” said Garfitt, gloomily.

  “That may be,” answered Harrison. “But we know what she’s up to. I’ve already told you that the plan of
campaign is to be ready for Mrs. Crewe’s may be, and work out my own moves accordingly. Now we know that Mrs. Crewe wants me to be at 3, Avenue St. Denis at eleven o’clock this morning and she is certain that I shall go there alone.”

  “But you mustn’t,” cried Yvette Mallison.

  “It’s the only way to beat her,” said Harrison.

  “But it will be so terribly dangerous,” said Miss Rich.

  “Not if you all carry out your orders,” answered Harrison.

  “You can’t,” insisted May Rich.

  “I must,” said Harrison, firmly.

  “Then the gang goes with you,” said Mallison.

  “Mrs. Crewe expects me to go alone,” said Harrison.

  “It’s madness,” said Mallison.

  “And what do you say?” asked Harrison, turning to Garfitt, who had suddenly become silent.

  “That you’ve something up your sleeve,” answered Garfitt.

  “M. Manet, of the Paris Police,” answered Harrison, with a smile. “Now I feel I must remind you all that you agreed to carry out my orders. I appreciate your anxiety for me, but you must do what I tell you. First of all, I’m going alone. Even if one of you followed, what good would it do? You wouldn’t be allowed to come near the house. Then you might be surprised to hear that there are large numbers of police concentrated at a central spot in Toulon with M. Manet waiting for a message from me to carry on.”

  “Toulon’s a long way away,” said Mallison.

  “But, my dear man,” said Harrison, almost impatiently, “You can’t imagine that anything exciting is going to happen in La Plage. If the Crewes are at the head of a gang and we want to round them up, you don’t think we are going to catch them either at 3, Avenue St. Denis or even at the Sport Hotel. They would have been spotted long ago in a small place like this. No, the headquarters are somewhere in Toulon. Avenue St. Denis is a convenient spot to pick me up, but I’m convinced I shall be taken to Toulon—I expect Mr. Hooker’s already at the spot I’m going to.”

  “Not Toulon Harbour,” asked Miss Rich, with a shudder.

  “Of course not,” answered Harrison, reassuringly. “I’m certain that’s not Mrs. Crewe’s method. I believe I have a glimmering of what she will do first. That will explain, Henry, why Mr. Humphrey Bliss, barrister-at-law, is in Toulon, but at present it is mere guesswork.”

  “Well,” said Garfitt, “you seem to have made up your mind. What are we to do?”

  “You and Mallison will go straight to police headquarters in Toulon,” said Harrison, “explain who you are and find out where M. Manet is. You will join him and tell him to be ready to move with his force directly he gets a message from the fire chief.”

  “I hope he understands,” said Garfitt.

  “Of course he will,” answered Harrison. “You can’t think how relieved I am that it’s a fine and clear morning. Now, Henry, I’ve kept the most important job for you. You’ve helped me at the critical moment in so many cases that I know I can rely on you for this particular piece of work. I want you to go to the fire chief at Toulon. As I have told you before, he is expecting somebody to come from me. You will go with him to his look-out post and find out the direction of the district Mallison told us about where the police do not interfere with certain extremely political citizens. We agreed that a criminal might find it a priceless sanctuary. Possibly Mrs. Crewe knows that too.”

  “What fools we are,” exclaimed Garfitt. “And it’s been staring us in the face all the time.”

  “When you have found that out, Henry,” continued Harrison, “you will glue your eyes in that direction and get the fire chief to do the same. Directly you see a column of thick smoke appear from some part of it, you will get the fire chief to work out the exact spot and dash off and tell M. Manet. You understand?”

  “Of course I do, sir,” answered Henry, with an affectionate look in his eyes. “But are you going to be in danger all that time?”

  “Not if you carry out instructions to the letter,” said Harrison. “Don’t worry about me, Henry. You know me well enough by now. The plan must succeed if everybody does their job to the second.”

  “And after I have told M. Manet, sir?” asked Henry.

  “You can do what you like,” said Harrison. “But I expect you will want to join him and his merry band of policemen.”

  “Thank you sir,” answered Henry, “I certainly shall.”

  “Then the stage is set,” said Harrison. “You all know what to do, and you’d better push off straight away to Toulon.”

  The company quickly broke up and Harrison was left with the two women.

  “You seem to have forgotten me,” said Miss Rich, sadly.

  “Oh no, I haven’t,” answered Harrison; “I’m afraid I can’t use you in the present business, but you can still help me.”

  “Splendid,” said the girl, more cheerfully. “What am I to do?”

  “You can take a car to Toulon station and meet Miss Docket,” replied Harrison.

  “I didn’t know she was coming out,” said May Rich.

  “I had a note from her saying that she really couldn’t wait any longer,” said Harrison, “and that she was packing her bag and coming straight away.”

  “Very well,” said the girl. “It’ll be lovely to see her again.”

  “And me?” asked Yvette Mallison.

  “You have the thankless task of keeping a lonely detective company until he goes off to keep his appointment,” replied Harrison.

  “I’ll do my best,” she answered gaily.

  A cigar and Yvette’s shrewd comments on things in general and Mallison in particular—she noted that he had taken his more presentable beret to call on M. Manet, although he still looked more like a La Plage boatman than anything else—made the time go quickly and, on the stroke of eleven, Harrison arrived at 3, Avenue St. Denis.

  Harrison found that his conjecture as to the meaning of the message was correct, for there were only four villas in the avenue. The road was not made up and it was obvious that the ambitious name of “Avenue St. Denis” was a thought for the future when La Plage should expand rather than the present.

  He saw nothing suspicious as he went along, but merely concluded that his enemies were in hiding. Drina Esberg was waiting at the door of No. 3 and greeted him emotionally, taking both his hands in hers.

  “Thank God you’ve come,” she said; “I should have gone mad if you hadn’t.”

  She led him upstairs to a small room, poorly supplied with an iron bed and uncomfortable chairs and with no pretence at comfort.

  “This is my room,” she said. “Better to talk here. Sit down, Mr. Harrison.”

  Harrison sat down carefully on a rickety cane-seated chair which gave him a good view of the door.

  “It’s all right,” she said, noticing his look; “nobody will interrupt us. Not even that terrible negro. He’s always guarded me when they’ve been away. But they needed him this morning. They’re all wanted at the trial.”

  Here she broke down and sobbed.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Harrison, I didn’t mean to,” she said, controlling herself with a terrific effort, “but if you only know. That’s why I had to see you. They’re trying Mr. Hooker this morning, and they’ll sentence him to death. I’m sure they will. You must save him.”

  “But I don’t understand, Miss Esberg,” returned Harrison. “And this leaving you alone makes me very suspicious.”

  “It’s all right, Mr. Harrison, really it is,” she replied. “They made me promise all sorts of things. They think I wouldn’t dare have you here. But I’m desperate.”

  “But are you certain they are not watching us?”

  “They’re all in Toulon, I tell you.”

  “I wish I could be certain,” answered Harrison, and had Henry been there, he would have decided that his master was talking not only for the benefit of Miss Esberg, but also for any other ears that might be in listening range. “Mrs. Crewe is very clever. She might have un
derstood your code. By the way, what made you think of it?”

  “I didn’t think of it myself,” answered Drina; “I heard them talking of it as a good idea. It was a godsend to me.”

  “When did they talk about it?” asked Harrison, somewhat admiring the agitated tone he managed to get into his voice.

  “Last night, at the casino,” was the reply. “Why? What’s the matter?”

  “Don’t you realise, Miss Esberg,” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet, “this is a trap. I must get out of here at once or it may be too late.”

  “I’m afraid it is too late,” said a gentle voice, as the door swung open and they saw, framed in the doorway, the sober, black-clad little figure of Mrs. Crewe.

  Drina Esberg gave a scream of terror and crouched in a corner of the room. Mrs. Crewe came in slowly, followed by two burly-looking ruffians, whom Harrison suspected of having met before in the struggle in the lane.

  “Poor fool,” said Mrs. Crewe, looking contemptuously at the terror-stricken girl. “Taking the first opportunity to be a traitor, eh? Do you think you could deceive me?” She turned to the men. “Pick her up and put her in the car.”

  The two men carried Drina, now so nerve-stricken that she was silent and unresisting, out of the room, and Mrs. Crewe turned to Harrison.

  “So the famous detective saw the trick too late,” she said.

  “Very clever,” answered Harrison.

  “I warned you not to meddle,” said Mrs. Crewe. “You have only yourself to blame. Did the code take you long to work out?”

  “It wasn’t very difficult.”

  “And the detective thought he was marvellously clever to come to 3, Avenue St. Denis at eleven o’clock. Psychology again, Mr. Clay Harrison. Caught out by your own ingenuity. You must improve your opinion of me.”