Havoc

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by E. Phillips Oppenheim


  CHAPTER XXXI

  MISS LENEVEU'S MESSAGE

  The two men stepped back into the hotel. The cashier had returnedto his desk, and the incident which had just transpired seemed tohave passed unnoticed. Nevertheless, Laverick felt that the studiedindifference of his companion's manner had its significance, and heendeavored to imitate it.

  "Shall we go through into the bar?" he asked. "There's very seldomany one there at this time."

  "Anywhere you say," Bellamy answered. "It's years since we had adrink together."

  They passed into the inner room and, finding it empty, drew twochairs into the further corner. Bellamy summoned the waiter.

  "Two whiskies and sodas quick, Tim," he ordered. "Now, Laverick,listen to me," he added, as the waiter turned away. "We are alonefor the moment but it won't be for long. You know very well thatit wasn't to renew our schoolboy acquaintance that I've asked youto come in here with me."

  Laverick drew a little breath.

  "Please go on," he said. "I am as anxious as you can be to graspthis affair properly."

  "When we left school," Bellamy remarked, "you were destined forthe Stock Exchange. I went first to Magdalen. Did you ever hearwhat became of me afterwards?"

  "I always understood," Laverick answered, "that you went into oneof the Government offices."

  "Quite right," Bellamy assented. "I did. At this moment I havethe honor to serve His Majesty."

  "Two thousand a year and two hours work a day," Laverick laughed."I know the sort of thing."

  "You evidently don't," Bellamy answered. "I often work twentyhours a day, I don't get half two thousand a year, and most ofthe time I carry my life in my hands. When I am working--and Iam working now--I am never sure of the morrow."

  Laverick looked at him incredulously.

  "You're not joking, Bellamy?" he asked.

  "Not by any manner of means. I have the honor to be a humble memberof His Majesty's Secret Service."

  Laverick glanced at his companion wonderingly.

  "I really didn't know," he said, "that such a service had any actualexistence except in novels."

  "I am a proof to the contrary," Bellamy declared grimly. "Abroad,I run always the risk of being dubbed a spy and treated like one.At home, I am simply the head of the A2 Branch of the Secret Service.Here come our drinks."

  Laverick raised his whiskey and soda to his lips mechanically.

  "Here's luck!" he exclaimed. "Now go on, Bellamy," he continued."The waiter can't overhear."

  Bellamy smiled.

  "Tim is one of the few persons in the place," he said, "whom one cantrust. As a matter of fact, he has been very useful to me more thanonce. Now listen to me attentively, Laverick. I am going to speakto you as one man to another."

  Laverick nodded.

  "I am ready," he said.

  "Last Monday," Bellamy went on, leaning forward and speaking in asoft but very distinct undertone, "a man was murdered late at nightin the heart of the city--within one hundred yards of the StockExchange. The papers called it a mysterious murder. No one knowswho the man was, or who committed the crime, or why. You and I,Laverick, both know a little more than the rest of the world."

  "Well?"

  "The murder," Bellamy continued, with a strange light in his eyes,"was accomplished only a stone's throw from your office."

  Laverick lit a cigarette and threw the match away.

  "Horrible affair it was," he remarked.

  Bellamy glanced toward the door,--a man had looked in and departed.

  "Enough of this fencing, Laverick," he said. "A theft was committedfrom the person of that murdered man, of which the general publicknows nothing. A pocketbook was stolen from him containing twentythousand pounds and a sealed document. As to who murdered the man,I want you to understand that that is not my affair. As to what hasbecome of that twenty thousand pounds, I have not the slightestcuriosity. I want the document."

  "What claim have you to it?" Laverick asked quickly.

  "I might retort, but I will not," Bellamy replied. "Time is tooshort. I will answer you by explaining who the man was and whatthat document consists of. The man's name was Von Behrling, and hewas a trusted agent of the Austrian Secret Service. The documentof which he was robbed contains a verbatim report of the conferencewhich recently took place at Vienna between the Emperor of Germany,the Emperor of Austria, and the Czar of Russia. It contains thedetails of a plot against this country and the undertakings enteredinto by those several Powers. I want that document, Laverick. HaveI established my claim?"

  "You have," Laverick answered. "Why on earth Didn't you come to mebefore? Don't you believe that I should have listened to you asreadily as to Mademoiselle Idiale?"

  "I wish that I had come," Bellamy admitted, "and yet, here is thetruth, Laverick, because the truth is best. Twenty-two years liebetween us and the time when we knew anything of one another. Tome, therefore, you are a stranger. I had my spies following VonBehrling that night. I know that you took the pocket-book from hisdead body. If you did not murder him yourself, the deed was doneby an accomplice of yours. How was I to trust you? We are speakingnaked words, my friend. We are dealing with naked truths. To meyou were a murderer and a thief. A word from me and you would haverealized the value of that document. I tell you frankly thatAustria would give you almost any sum for it to-day."

  Laverick, strong man though he was, was conscious of a suddenweakness. He raised his hand to his forehead and drew it away--wet.He struggled desperately for self-control.

  "Bellamy," he said, "here's truth for truth. I am not on my trialbefore you. Believe me, man, for God's sake!"

  "I'll try," Bellamy promised. "Go on."

  "That night I stayed at my office late because I saw ruin before meon the morrow. I left it meaning to go straight home. I lit acigarette near that entry, and by the light of a match, as I wasthrowing it away, I saw the murdered man. I think for a time I wasparalyzed. The pocket-book was half dragged out from his pocket.Why I looked inside it I don't know. I had some sort of wild ideathat I must find out who he was. Mind you, though, I should havegiven the alarm at once, but there wasn't a soul in the street.There was a man lurking in the entry and I chased him, unsuccessfully.When I came back, the body was still there and the street empty. Ilooked inside that pocket-book, which would have been in thepossession of his murderer but for my unexpected appearance. I sawthe notes there. Once more I went out into the street. I gave noalarm,--I am not attempting to explain why. I was like a man madesuddenly mad. I went back to my office and shut myself in."

  Bellamy pointed to the glasses silently. The waiter came forwardand refilled them.

  "Bellamy," Laverick continued, "your career and mine lie far apart,and yet, at their backbone, as there is at the backbone of everyman's life, there must be something of the same sort of ambition.My grandfather lived and died a member of the Stock Exchange, honoredand well thought of. My father followed in his footsteps. I, too,was there. Without becoming wealthy, the name I bear has becomeknown and respected. Failure, whatever one may say, means a brokenlife and a broken honor. I sat in my office and I knew that the useof those notes for a few days might save me from disgrace, mightkeep the name, which my father and grandfather had guarded sojealously, free from shame. I would have paid any price for the useof them. I would have paid with my life, if that had been possible.Think of the risk I ran--the danger I am now in. I deposited thosenotes on the morrow as security at my bank, and I met all myengagements. The crisis is over! Those notes are in a safe depositvault in Chancery Lane! I only wish to Heaven that I could findthe owner!"

  "And the document?" Bellamy asked. "The document?"

  "It is in the hotel safe," Laverick answered.

  Bellamy drew a long sigh of relief. Then he emptied his tumblerand lit a cigarette.

  "Laverick," he declared, "I believe you."

  "Thank God!" Laverick muttered.

  "
I am no crime investigator," Bellamy went on thoughtfully. "As towho killed Von Behrling, or why, I cannot now form the slightestidea. That twenty thousand pounds, Laverick, is Secret Servicemoney, paid by me to Von Behrling only half-an-hour before he wasmurdered, in a small restaurant there, for what I supposed to bethe document. He deceived me by making up a false packet. The realone he kept. He deserved to die, and I am glad he is dead."

  Laverick's face was suddenly hopeful.

  "Then you can take these notes!" he exclaimed.

  Bellamy nodded.

  "In a few days," he said, "I shall take you with me to a friend ofmine--a Cabinet Minister. You shall tell him the story exactly asyou've told it to me, and restore the money."

  Laverick laughed like a child.

  "Don't think I'm mad," he apologized, "but I am not a person likeyou, Bellamy,--used to adventures and this sort of wild happenings.I'm a steady-going, matter-of-fact Englishman, and this thing hasbeen like a hateful nightmare to me. I can't believe that I'm goingto get rid of it."

  Bellamy smiled.

  "It's a great adventure," he declared, "to come to any one like you.To tell you the truth, I can't imagine how you had the pluck--don'tmisunderstand me, I mean the moral pluck--to run such a risk. Why,at the moment you used those notes," Bellamy continued, "the oddsmust have been about twenty to one against your not being found out."

  "One doesn't stop to count the odds," Laverick said grimly. "I sawa chance of salvation and I went for it. And now about this letter."

  Bellamy rose to his feet.

  "On the King's service!" he whispered softly.

  They walked once more to the cashier's desk. A stranger greeted them.Laverick produced his receipt.

  "I should like the packet I deposited here this evening," he said."I am sorry to trouble you, but I find that I require it unexpectedly."

  The clerk glanced at the receipt and up at the clock. "I am afraid,sir," he answered, "that we cannot get at it before the morning."

  "Why not?" Laverick demanded, frowning.

  "Mr. Dean has just gone home," the man declared, "and he is the onlyone who knows the combination on the 'L' safe. You see, sir," hecontinued, "we keep this particular safe for documents, and we didnot expect that anything would be required from it to-night."

  Bellamy drew Laverick away.

  "After all," he said, "perhaps to-morrow morning would be better.There's no need to get shirty with these fellows. As a matter offact, I don't think that I should have dared to receive it withoutmaking some special preparations. I can get some plain clothesmen here upon whom I can rely, at nine o'clock."

  They strolled back into the hall.

  "Tell me," Laverick asked, "do you know who the man was who forgedmy name to the order a few hours ago?"

  Bellamy nodded.

  "It was Adolf Kahn, an Austrian spy. I have been watching him fordays. If they'd given him the paper I had four men at the door, butit would have been touch and go. He is a very prince of conspirators,that fellow. To tell you the truth, I think I might as well go home."

  Bellamy was drawing on his gloves when the hall-porter brought a noteto Laverick.

  "A messenger has just left this for you, sir," he explained.

  Laverick tore open the envelope. The contents consisted of a fewwords only, written on plain note-paper and in a handwriting whichwas strange to him.

  "Ring up 1232 Gerrard."

  Laverick frowned, turned over the half sheet of paper and lookedonce more at the envelope. Then he passed it on to his companion.

  "What do you make of that, Bellamy?" he asked.

  Bellamy smiled as he perused and returned it.

  "What could any one make of it?" he remarked, laconically. "Do youknow the handwriting?"

  "Never saw it before, to my knowledge," Laverick answered. "Whatshould you do about it?"

  "I think," Bellamy suggested, "that I should ring up number 1232Gerrard."

  They crossed the hall and Laverick entered one of the telephone booths.

  "1232 Gerrard," he said.

  The connection was made almost at once.

  "Who are you?" Laverick asked.

  "I am speaking for Miss Zoe Leneven," was the reply. "Are you Mr.Laverick?"

  "I am," Laverick answered. "Is Miss Leneveu there? Can she speakto me herself?"

  "She is not here," the voice continued. "She was fetched away ina hurry from the theatre--we understood by her brother. She lefttwo and sixpence with the doorkeeper here to ring you up and explainthat she had been summoned to her brother's rooms, 25, Jermyn Street,and would you kindly go on there."

  "Who are you?" Laverick demanded.

  There was no reply. Laverick remained speechless, listeningintently. He stood still with the receiver pressed to his ear. Wasit his fancy, or was that really Zoe's protesting voice which heheard in the background? It was a woman or a child who wasspeaking--he was almost sure that it was Zoe.

  "Who are you?" he asked fiercely. "Miss Leneveu is there with you.Why does she not speak for herself?"

  "Miss Leneveu is not here," was the answer. "I have done what shedesired. You can please yourself whether you go or not. The addressis 25, Jermyn Street. Ring off."

  The connection was gone. Laverick laid down the receiver andstepped out of the booth.

  "I must be off at once," he said to Bellamy. "You'll be round inthe morning?"

  Bellamy smiled.

  "After all," he remarked, "I have changed my plans. I shall notleave the hotel. I am going to telephone round to my man to bringme some clothes. By the bye, do you mind telling me whether thismessage which you have just received had anything to do with thelittle affair in which we are interested?"

  "Not directly," Laverick answered, after a moment's hesitation."The message was from a young lady. I have to go and meet her."

  "A young lady whom you can trust?" Bellamy inquired quietly.

  "Implicitly," Laverick assured him.

  "She spoke herself?"

  "No, she sent a message. Excuse me, Bellamy, won't you, but Imust really go."

  "By all means," Bellamy answered.

  They stood at the entrance to the hotel together while a taxicabwas summoned. Laverick stepped quickly in.

  "25, Jermyn Street," he ordered.

  Bellamy watched him drive off. Then he sighed.

  "I think, my friend Laverick," he said softly, "that you will needsome one to look after you to-night."

 

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