The Avenger

by E. Phillips Oppenheim

  CHAPTER V

  ON THE TELEPHONE

  It was a little hard even for the Colonel to keep up his affectation ofcheerfulness when he found himself alone with the man whom he had come tovisit. His experience of life had been large and varied, but he had neveryet seen so remarkable a change in any human being in twenty-four hours.There were deep black lines under his eyes, his cheeks were colourless,every now and then his features twitched nervously, as though he weresuffering from an attack of St. Vitus' dance. His hand, which had lainweakly in the Colonel's, was as cold as ice, although there was a roaringfire in the room. He had admitted the Colonel himself, and almost draggedhim inside the door.

  "Did you meet any one outside--upon the stairs?" he asked feverishly.

  "No one upon the stairs," the Colonel answered. "There was a man lightinghis pipe in the doorway."

  Wrayson shivered as he turned away.

  "Watching me!" he declared. "There are two of them! They are watching meall the time."

  The Colonel took off his coat. The room seemed to him like a furnace.Then he stretched out his hands and laid them upon Wrayson's shoulders.

  "What if they are?" he declared cheerfully. "They won't eat you. Besides,it is very likely the dead man's rooms they are watching."

  "They followed me home from the inquest," Wrayson muttered.

  The Colonel laughed.

  "And if I'd been living here," he remarked, "they'd have followed mehome just the same. Now, Herbert, my young friend," he continued,"sit down and tell me all about it like a man. You're in a bit oftrouble, of course, underneath all this. Let's hear it, and we'llfind the best way out."

  The Colonel's figure was dominant; his presence alone seemed to dispelthat unreal army of ghosts and fancies which a few moments before hadseemed to Wrayson to be making his room like the padded cell of a lunaticasylum. His tone, too, had just enough sympathy to make its cheerfulnessreassuring. Wrayson began to feel glimmerings of common sense.

  "Yes!" he said, "I've something to tell you. That's why I telephoned."

  The Colonel rose again to his feet, and began fumbling in the pocket ofhis overcoat.

  "God bless my soul, I almost forgot!" he exclaimed, "and the fellowswould make me bring it. We guessed how you were feeling--much better tohave come up and dined with us. Here we are! Get some glasses, there's agood chap."

  A gold-foiled bottle appeared, and a packet of hastily cut sandwiches.Wrayson found himself mechanically eating and drinking before he knewwhere he was. Then in an instant the sandwiches had become delicious, andthe wine was rushing through his veins like a new elixir of life. He washimself again, the banging of anvils in his head had ceased; he wasshaken perhaps, but a sane man. His eyes filled with tears, and hegripped the Colonel by the hand.

  "Colonel, you're--you're--God knows what you are," he murmured. "All theordinary things sound commonplace. I believe I was going mad."

  The Colonel leaned back and laughed as though the idea tickled him.

  "Not you!" he declared. "Bless you, I know what nerves are! Out in India,thirty-five years ago, I've had to relieve men on frontier posts whohadn't seen a soul to speak to for six months! Weird places some of them,too--gives me the creeps to think of them sometimes! Now light up thatcigar," he added, throwing one across, "and let's hear the trouble."

  Wrayson lit his cigar with fingers which scarcely shook. He threw thematch away and smoked for a moment in silence.

  "It's about this Morris Barnes affair," he said abruptly. "I've keptsomething back, and I'm a clumsy hand at telling a story that doesn'tcontain all the truth. The consequence is, of course, that I'm suspectedof having had a hand in it myself."

  The Colonel's manner had for a moment imperceptibly changed. Lines hadcome out in his face which were not usually visible, his upper lip hadstiffened. One could fancy that he might have led his men into battlelooking something like this.

  "What is it that you know?" he asked.

  "There was another person in the flats that night, who was interested inMorris Barnes, who visited his rooms, who was with me when I first sawhim dead."

  The Colonel shaded his face with his hand. The heat from the firewas intense.

  "Why have you kept back this knowledge?" he asked.

  "Because--it was a woman, and I am a fool!" Wrayson answered.

  There was a silence. Then the Colonel pushed back his chair and dabbedhis forehead with his handkerchief. The room was certainly hot, and thehandkerchief was wet.

  "Tell me about it," he said quietly. "I expected something of the sort!"

  "On that morning," Wrayson began, "I returned home about twelve o'clock,let myself in with my own latch-key, and found a woman standing before myopen desk going through my papers."

  "A friend?" the Colonel asked.

  "A complete stranger!" Wrayson answered. "Her surprise at seeing me wasat least equal to my own. I gathered that she had believed herself to bein the flat of Morris Barnes, which is the corresponding one above."

  "What did you do?" the Colonel asked.

  "What I should have done I am not sure," Wrayson answered, "but while Iwas talking to her the telephone bell rang, and I received that messagewhich I spoke about at the inquest. It was a mysterious sort ofbusiness--I can hear that voice now. I was interested, and while I stoodthere she slipped away."

  "Is that all?" the Colonel asked.

  "No!" Wrayson answered with a groan. "I wish to God it was!"

  The Colonel moved his position a little. The cigar had burnt out betweenhis fingers, but he made no effort to light it.

  "Go on," he said. "Tell me the rest. Tell me what happened afterwards."

  "I wrote down the message for Barnes and left it in his letter-box.There seemed then to be no light in his flat. Afterwards I lit a pipe,left my door open, and sat down, with the intention of waiting tillBarnes came home and explaining what had happened. I fell asleep in mychair and woke with a start. It was nearly three o'clock. I was going toturn in when I heard the jingling of a hansom bell down below. I lookedout of the window and saw the cab standing in the street. Almost at thesame time I heard footsteps outside. I went to the door of my flat andcame face to face with the girl descending from the floor above."

  "At three o'clock in the morning?" the Colonel interrupted.

  Wrayson nodded.

  "She was white and shaking all over," he continued rapidly. "She askedme for brandy and I gave it to her; she asked me to see her out of theplace, and I did so. When I opened the door to let her out and we sawthe man leaning back in the cab, she moaned softly to herself. I saidsomething about his being asleep or drunk--'or dead!' she whispered inmy ear, and then she rushed away from me. She turned into the AlbertRoad and disappeared almost at once. I could not have followed her if Iwould. I had just begun to realize that something was wrong with the manin the cab!"

  "This is all?" the Colonel asked.

  "It is all!" Wrayson answered.

  "You do not know her name, or why she was here? You have not seenher since?"

  Wrayson shook his head.

  "I know absolutely nothing," he said, "beyond what I have told you."

  The Colonel struck a match and relit his cigar.

  "I should like to understand," he said quietly, "why you avoided allmention of her in your evidence."

  Wrayson laughed oddly.

  "I should like to understand that myself," he declared. "I can onlyrepeat what I said before. She was a woman, and I was a fool."

  "In plain English," the Colonel said, "you did it to shield her?"

  "Yes!" Wrayson answered.

  The Colonel nodded thoughtfully.

  "Well," he said, "you were in a difficult position, and you made adeliberate choice. I tell you frankly that I expected to hear worsethings. Do you believe that she committed the murder?"

  "No!" Wrayson answered. "I do not!"

  "You believe that she may be associated with--the person who did?"

  "I cannot tell," Wrayson de
clared.

  "In any case," the Colonel continued, "you seem to have been the onlyperson who saw her. Whether you were wise or not to omit all mention ofher in your evidence--well, we won't discuss that. The best of us havegone on the wrong side of the hedge for a woman before now--and damnedglad to do it. What I can't quite understand, old chap, is why you haveworked yourself up into such a shocking state. You don't stand any chanceof being hanged, that I can see!"

  Wrayson laughed a little shamefacedly.

  "To tell you the truth," he said, "I am beginning to feel ashamed ofmyself. I think it was the sense of being spied upon, and beingalone--in this room--which got a bit on my nerves. I feel a different mansince you came down."

  The Colonel nodded cheerfully.

  "That's all right," he declared. "The next thing to--"

  The Colonel broke off in the midst of his sentence. A few feet away fromhim the telephone bell was ringing. Wrayson rose to his feet and took thereceiver into his hand.

  "Hullo!" he said.

  The voice which answered him was faint but clear. Wrayson almost droppedthe instrument. He recognized it at once.

  "Is that Mr. Herbert Wrayson?" it asked.

  "Yes!" Wrayson answered. "Who are you?"

  "I am the person who spoke to you a few nights ago," was the answer."Never mind my name for the present. I wish to arrange a meeting--forsome time to-morrow. I have a matter--of business--to discuss with you."

  "Anywhere--at any time," Wrayson answered, almost fiercely. "You cannotbe as anxious to see me as I am to know who you are."

  The voice changed a little in its intonation. A note of mockery hadstolen into it.

  "You flatter me," it said. "I trust that our meeting will be mutuallyagreeable. You must excuse my coming to Battersea, as I understand thatyour flat is subjected to a most inconvenient surveillance. May I call atthe office of your paper, at say eleven o'clock tomorrow?"

  "Yes!" Wrayson answered. "You know where it is?"

  "Certainly! I shall be there. A Mr. Bentham will ask for you.Good night!"

  Wrayson's unknown friend had rung off. He replaced the receiver andturned to the Colonel.

  "Do you know who that was?" he asked eagerly.

  "I can guess," the Colonel answered.

  "To-morrow, at eleven o'clock," Wrayson declared, "I shall know whokilled Morris Barnes."