Read Cleek of Scotland Yard: Detective Stories Page 21


  CHAPTER XX

  May had smiled itself out and June had blushed itself in--the mostwondrous June, in Cleek's eyes, the world had ever seen. For thelong waiting was over, the old order of things had changed, thelittle house in the meadowlands had its new tenant, and _she_ wasin England again.

  It did not fret him, as it otherwise might have done, that he andDollops had been obliged to go back to the old business of lodginga week here and a week there in the heart of the town, rather thanwithin reach of the green trees and the fragrant meadows he loved,for always there was the chance of stealing out to meet her in theglorious country-lands when the evening came, or of a whole day withher in the woods and fields when a whole day could be spared; andto a nature such as his these things were recompense enough.

  Not that many days could be spared at present, for, although nothinghad been seen or heard of Waldemar or the Apaches for weeks on end,these were strenuous times for Mr. Narkom and the forces of theYard, and what with the Coronation of his Majesty close at hand,and every train discharging hordes of visitors into London day inand day out, and crooks of every description--homemade as well asimported--from the swell mobsman down to the common lag making itthe Mecca of an unholy pilgrimage--they had their hands filled tooverflowing, and were worked to their utmost capacity.

  The result, so far as Cleek was concerned, scarcely needs recording.It was not in him to be guilty of that form of snobbishness whichis known as "standing on his dignity" at such a time--when theman who had stood his friend was in need of help, indeed, might losehis official head if he were found wanting in such a crisis--sothat, naturally, he came to Mr. Narkom's assistance and took a handin the "sorting out" process in the manner--yes, and at times, inthe uniform, too--of the ordinary constable, and proved of suchinvaluable aid in the matter of scenting out undesirables andidentifying professional crooks that things speedily fell into amore orderly shape, and he had just begun to look forward to aresumption of those happy days of wandering in the woods with Ailsawhen out of the lull of coming peace there fell an official bombshell.

  It took the form of a cablegram--a belated cipher communication fromthe police of America to the police of Great Britain--which on beingdecoded, ran thus:

  "Just succeeded in tracing 218. Sailed ten days ago on _Tunisian_--Allan Line--from Canada, under name of Hammond. Woman with him. Handsome blonde. Passing as sister. Believed to be 774."

  Now as this little exchange of courtesies relative to the movementsof the noted figures of the underworld is of almost daily occurrencebetween the police systems of the two countries in question, Mr.Narkom had only to consult his Code Book to get at the gist of thematter; and when he did get at it, his little fat legs bent underhim like a couple of straws, his round little body collapsed intothe nearest chair, and he came within a hair's breadth of having a"stroke."

  For the _Tunisian_, as it happened, had docked and dischargedher passengers exactly thirteen hours before, so that it was safeto declare that the persons to whom those numerals alluded hadunquestionably slipped unchallenged past the guardians of theport, and were safely housed at this minute within the intricaciesof that vast brick-and-mortar puzzle, London; yet here they wereregistered in the Code Book, thus:

  "No. 218--Nicholas Hemmingway, popularly known as 'Diamond Nick.' American. Expert swindler, confidence man and jewel thief. Ex-actor and very skilful at impersonation. See Rogues' Gallery for portrait.

  "No. 774--Ella Plawsen, variously known to members of the light-fingered fraternity as 'Dutch Ella' and 'Lady Bell.' German-American. Probably the most adroit female jewel thief in existence. Highly educated, exceedingly handsome, and amazingly plausible and quick witted. Usually does the 'society dodge.' Natural blonde, and about twenty-five years old. No photograph obtainable."

  Within forty-five minutes after Mr. Narkom had mastered these factshe had rushed with them to Cleek, and there was a vacancy in thelist of special constables from that time forth.

  "Slipped in, have they?" said Cleek when he heard. "Well, be sure ofone thing, Mr. Narkom: they will not have gone to a hotel--at leastin the beginning--they are far too sharp for that. Neither willthey house themselves in any hole and corner where their sallyingforth in fine feathers to make their little clean-up would occasioncomment and so lead to a clue. Indeed, I shouldn't be surprised ifthey were far too shrewd to remain together in any place, but willelect to operate singly, appear to have no connection whatsoever,while they are here, and to have a sort of 'happy reunion' elsewhereafter their little job has been pulled off successfully. But inany case, when we find them--if we ever do--depend upon it they willbe located in some quiet, respectable, secluded district, one ofthe suburbs, for instance, and living as circumspectly as the mostprudish of prying neighbours could desire.

  "Let us then go in for a series of 'walking tours' about theoutlying districts, Mr. Narkom, and see if we can't stumble oversomething that will be worth while. It is true I've never metnor even seen Hemmingway, but I fancy I should know if a manwere made up or not for the role in which he appears. I did,however, brush elbows with Dutch Ella once. It was that time I wentover to New York on that affair of the Amsterdam diamonds. _You_remember? When I 'split' the reward with the fellow from MulberryStreet, whose daughter wanted to study music as a profession and hecouldn't afford to let her. I hobnobbed with some acquaintances ofthe--er--old days, over there, and went one night to the big FrenchBall at the Academy of Music, where, my companion of the night toldme, there would be 'a smashing big clean-up, as half the swellcrooks in town would be there--for business.'

  "They were, I dare say, for he kept pointing out this one and thatto me and saying, 'That's so and so!' as they danced past us. Ishouldn't know any of them again, so far as looks are concerned,for the annual French Ball in New York is a masked ball, as youare, perhaps, aware; and I shouldn't know 'Dutch Ella' any betterthan the rest, but for one thing--although I danced with her."

  "Danced with her, Cleek? Danced?"

  "Yes. For the purpose of 'getting a line on her shape,' so to speak,for possible future reference. I couldn't see her face, for she wasmasked to the very chin; but there's a curious, tumor-like lump, asbig as a hen's egg, just under her right shoulder-blade, and there'sthe scar of an acid burn on the back of her left hand that she'llcarry to her grave. I shall know that scar if ever I see it again.And if by any chance I should run foul of a woman bearing one likeit, and that woman should prove to have also a lump under the rightshoulder-blade----Come along! Let's get out and see if we can findone. 'Time flies,' as the anarchist said when he blew up the clockfactory. Let's toddle."

  They "toddled" forthwith, but on a fruitless errand, as it proved.Nevertheless, they "toddled" again the next day as hopefully asever; and the next after that, and the next again, yet at the end ofthe fourth they were no nearer any clue to the whereabouts of DutchElla and Diamond Nick than they had been in the beginning. If, asCleek sometimes fancied, they had not merely passed through Englandon their way to the Continent, but were still here, housed likehawks in a safe retreat from which they made predatory excursionsunder the very noses of the police, there was nothing to signalizeit. No amazing jewel theft, no affair of such importance as oneengineered by them would be sure to be, had as yet been reported tothe Yard; and for all clue there was to their doings or theirwhereabouts one might as well have set out to find last summer'sroses or last winter's snow as hope to pick it up by any method asyet employed.

  Thus matters stood when on the morning of the fifth day Cleekelected to make Hampstead Heath and its environments the scene oftheir operations, and at nine o'clock set forth in company with thesuperintendent to put them into force in that particular locality,with the result that by noontime they found themselves in thethick of as pretty a riddle as they had fallen foul of in many a day.

  It came about in this way:

  Turning out of St. Uldred's road into a quiet, tree-shaded avenuerunning parallel with the historic
heath, somewhere in theneighbourhood of the Vale of Health district, they looked up todiscover that there was but one building in the entire length of thethoroughfare--a large, imposing residence set back from the roadproper, and encircled by a high stone wall with curiously wroughtiron gates leading into the enclosure--and that before thatbuilding two copper-skinned, turbaned, fantastically clothed Hinduswere doing sentry duty in a manner peculiar unto themselves--the onestanding as motionless as a bronze image before the barredgateway, and the other pacing up and down before him like aclockwork toy that had been well wound up.

  "The Punjab for a ducat!" declared Cleek as he caught sight of them."And the insignia of the Ranee of Jhang, or I'm a Dutchman. I knewthe old girl was over here for the coronation, to be sure, but I'dno idea of stumbling over some of her attendants in this quarter,by Jip! Not putting up out here of late, is she, Mr. Narkom?"

  "No. She's still at Kensington. And what the dickens those johnniesare keeping guard over that place for beats us. Know it, don't you?It's the residence of Sir Mawson Leake--Leake & Leake, you know:Jewellers, Bond Street. Fine old place, isn't it? Inherited itfrom his father, as he did the business, and----What's that? No, nota young man--not a young man by any means. Grown children--twosons. One by his first wife, and----Hullo! that's a rum trick, byJames! See that, did you, old chap?"

  "See what? The manner in which that clockwork johnnie stopped in histracks and eyed us as we passed?"

  "No. The woman. All muffled up to the eyes--and in weather like this.Just stepped out of the house door, saw those two niggers, and thenbolted back indoors as if the Old Boy was after her."

  "Caught sight of us, very likely. You know what high-class Brahmansare where Europeans are concerned. It will be the old Ranee herself,three to one, paying a morning visit to the jeweller in referenceto some of her amazing gems. That would explain the presence of thesentries. She travels nowhere without a guard."

  "To be sure," admitted the superintendent, and walked on, droppingthe matter from his mind entirely.

  Ten minutes later, however, it was brought back to it in a ratherstartling manner; for, upon rounding the end of the thoroughfarealong which they had been walking, and coming abreast of an isolatedbuilding (which was clearly the stable of the house they hadrecently passed), they were surprised to hear the sound of a muffledcry within, to catch a whiff of charcoal smoke as the door was flungwildly open by the same muffled female Mr. Narkom had observedpreviously, and something more than merely startled to have herrush at them the instant she caught sight of them, crying outdistractedly:

  "I was afraid of it, I knew it! I knew that he would! Oh, helpme, gentlemen--help me for the love of God! I can't lift him. Ican't drag him out--he is too heavy for me! My husband! In there! In_there_! He'll die if you don't get him out!"

  They understood then, and for the first time, what she was drivingat, and rushed past her into the stable--into what had once beendesigned for a coachman's bedroom--to find an apartment literallyreeking with the fumes that poured out from a charcoal furnace on thefloor, and beside that the body of a man--inert, crumpled up, fastsinking into that hopeless state of unconsciousness which precedesasphyxiation by charcoal.

  In the winking of an eye Cleek had caught up the deadly littlefirebrick furnace and sent it crashing through the plugged-upwindow into the grounds behind, letting a current of pure airrush through the place; then, while Narkom, with one hand over hismouth and nostrils, and the other swinging a pair of handcuffs bytheir chain, was doing a like thing with another window in the frontwall, he gathered up the semi-conscious man, swung him sacklikeover his shoulder, carried him out into the roadway, and propped himup against the side of the stable, while he chafed his hands andsmacked his cheeks and, between times, fanned him with his hatbrimand swore at him for a "weak-backed, marrowless thing to callitself a man, and yet go in for the poltroon's trick of suicide!"

  The woman was still there, squeezing her hands and sobbinghysterically, but although she had not as yet uncovered herface, it did not need that to attest the fact that she was noHindu, but white like the man she had spoken of as her husband, andat the very first words she uttered when she saw that he wasbeyond danger, both Cleek and Narkom knew them for what theywere--Sir Mawson and Lady Leake.

  "Mawson, how could you!" she said reproachfully, going to him thevery instant he was able to get on his feet, and folding him to herin an agonized embrace. "I suspected it when you left the house--but,oh, how could you?"

  "I don't know," he made answer, somewhat shamefacedly yet with anote of agony in his voice that made one pity him in spite of all."But it seemed too horrible a disgrace to be lived through. And nowI shall have to face it! Oh, my God, Ada, it is too much to ask aman to bear! They are there, on guard, those Hindus, protecting meand mine until the Ranee's steward comes to receive the Ladder ofLight, as promised, at----"

  "Sh-h!" she struck in warningly, remembering the presence of theothers, and clapping her hand over his mouth to stay any furtheradmission; for she had heard Cleek repeat after her husband--but witha soft significant whistle--"The Ladder of Light!" and supplementthat with, "Well, I'm dashed!" and turned round on him instantlywith a forced smile upon her lips but the look of terror stilllingering in her fast-winking eyes.

  "It is rude of me, gentlemen, to forget to thank you for your kindassistance, and I ask your forgiveness," she said. "I owe you many,many thanks and I am endeavouring to express them. But as this ismerely a little family affair I am sure you will understand."

  It was a polite dismissal. Narkom pivoted his little fat body on hisheel, and prepared to take it. Cleek didn't.

  "Your pardon, but the Ladder of Light can never be regarded as afamily affair in _any_ English household whatsoever," he said,blandly. "I can give you its exact history if you wish it. It isa necklace said to have once been the property of the Queen ofSheba and worn by her at the court of King Solomon. It is made upof twelve magnificent steel-white diamonds, cut semi-square, andeach weighing twenty-eight and one half carats. They are joinedtogether by slender gold links fitting into minute holes piercedthrough the edge of each stone. It is valued at one million poundssterling and is the property of the Ranee of Jhang, who prizes itabove all other of her marvellous and priceless jewels. She is not apleasant old lady to cross, the Ranee. She would be a shriekingdevil if anything were to happen to that necklace, your ladyship."

  She had been slowly shrinking from him as the history of the Ladderof Light proceeded; now she leaned back against her husband, fullof surprise and despairing terror, and stared and stared in a silencethat was only broken by little fluttering breaths of alarm.

  "It is uncanny!" she managed to say at last. "You know of that? Ofthe necklace? You know even me?--us?--and yet I have not uncoveredmy face nor given you my name. Are you then gifted with clairvoyance,Mr.--Mr.----"

  "Cleek," he gave back, making her a polite bow. "Cleek is the name,Lady Leake. Cleek of Scotland Yard."

  "That man? Dear God! that amazing man?" she cried, her whole facelighting up, her drooping figure springing erect, revitalized.

  "At your ladyship's service," he replied. "We are out thismorning--Superintendent Narkom and I--in quest of what is probablythe most skilful and audacious pair of jewel thieves in theworld--just the one particular pair in all the universe to whom aloot so valuable as the Ladder of Light would offer the strongestkind of an appeal. So, if by any chance, something has occurredwhich threatens the safety of that amazing necklace--and you and SirMawson are in a position to know the facts----Come! Take me intoyour confidence, and--perhaps! Who knows?"

  Before he had fairly finished speaking, Lady Leake caught up hishand, and, holding it fast squeezed in both her own, looked up athim with bright, wet eyes.

  "It must have been heaven itself that sent you to us this morning,"she cried. "If any man in the world _can_ help us, I believe inmy soul that you are the man. Mawson, you hear, dearest? It is Mr.Cleek. The wonderful Mr. Cleek. Why didn't we think of _him_ before?Te
ll him, Mawson--tell him everything, my dear."

  Sir Mawson acted upon the suggestion instantly.

  "Mr. Cleek, I beg, I implore you to come to our assistance!" heexclaimed in a very transport of excitement. "Lady Leake is right.If any man _can_, you are he! You ask if anything has happenedwith regard to that accursed necklace and if I can give you anyinformation on the subject? To both questions, yes! It is gone! Itis lost! It is stolen!"

  "What's that? Stolen? The Ladder of Light? Good heavens! When? Where?How?"

  "Yesterday--from my keeping! From my house! And God have mercy onme, I have every reason to believe that the thief is my eldest son!"