CHAPTER XXIV
STRICT BUSINESS LINES
Mr. Christopher Pett, warned by the uplifted finger of his aunt,tip-toed into the living-room, and setting down his small travelling bagon the table proceeded to divest himself of a thick overcoat, a warmmuffler, woollen gloves, and a silk hat. And Miss Pett, having closedthe outer and inner doors, came in and glanced inquiringly at him.
"Which way did you come, this time?" she inquired.
"High Gill," replied Christopher. "Got an afternoon express that stoppedthere. Jolly cold it was crossing those moors of yours, too, I can tellyou!--I can do with a drop of something. I say--is there anything afootabout here?--anything going on?"
"Why?" asked Miss Pett, producing the whisky and the lemons. "And how doyou mean?"
Christopher pulled an easy chair to the fire and stretched his hands tothe blaze.
"Up there, on the moor," he answered. "There's fellows going about withlights--lanterns, I should say. I didn't see 'em close at hand--therewere several of 'em crossing about--like fire-flies--as if the chapswho carried 'em were searching for something."
Miss Pett set the decanter and the materials for toddy on the table ather nephew's side, and took a covered plate from the cupboard in thecorner.
"Them's potted meat sandwiches," she said. "Very toothsome you'll find'em--I didn't prepare much, for I knew you'd get your dinner on thetrain. Yes, well, there is something afoot--they are searching. Not forsomething, though, but for somebody. Mallalieu!"
Christopher, his mouth full of sandwiches, and his hand laid on thedecanter, lifted a face full of new and alert interest.
"The Mayor!" he exclaimed.
"Quite so," assented Miss Pett. "Anthony Mallalieu, Esquire, Mayor ofHighmarket. They want him, does the police--bad!"
Christopher still remained transfixed. The decanter was already tiltedin his hand, but he tilted it no further; the sandwich hung bulging inhis cheek.
"Good Lord!" he said. "Not for----" he paused, nodding his head towardsthe front of the cottage where the wood lay "--not for--that? They ain'tsuspicioning _him_?"
"No, but for killing his clerk, who'd found something out," replied MissPett. "The clerk was killed Sunday; they took up Mallalieu and hispartner today, and tried 'em, and Mallalieu slipped the police somehow,after the case was adjourned, and escaped. And--he's here!"
Christopher had begun to pour the whisky into his glass. In hisastonishment he rattled the decanter against the rim.
"What!" he exclaimed. "Here? In this cottage?"
"In there," answered Miss Pett. "In Kitely's room. Safe and sound.There's no danger. He'll not wake. I mixed him a glass of toddy beforehe went to bed, and neither earthquakes nor fire-alarms 'ull wake himbefore nine o'clock tomorrow morning."
"Whew!" said Christopher. "Um! it's a dangerous game--it's harbouring,you know. However, they'd suspect that he'd come here. Whatever made himcome here?"
"I made him come here," replied Miss Pett. "I caught him in the woodoutside there, as I was coming back from the Town Hall, so I made himcome in. It'll pay very well, Chris."
Mr. Pett, who was lifting his glass to his lips, arrested it in mid-air,winked over its rim at his aunt, and smiled knowingly.
"You're a good hand at business, I must say, old lady!" he remarkedadmiringly. "Of course, of course, if you're doing a bit of business outof it----"
"That'll come tomorrow," said Miss Pett, seating herself at the tableand glancing at her nephew's bag. "We'll do our own business tonight.Well, how have you come on?"
Christopher munched and drank for a minute or two. Then he nodded, withmuch satisfaction in his manner.
"Very well," he answered. "I got what I consider a very good price. Soldthe whole lot to another Brixton property-owner, got paid, and havebrought you the money. All of it--ain't even taken my costs, myexpenses, and my commission out of it--yet."
"How much did you sell for?" asked Miss Pett.
Christopher pulled his bag to his side and took a bundle of red-tapeddocuments from it.
"You ought to think yourself jolly lucky," he said, wagging his headadmonitorily at his aunt. "I see a lot of the state of the propertymarket, and I can assure you I did uncommonly well for you. I shouldn'thave got what I did if it had been sold by auction. But the man I soldto was a bit keen, 'cause he's already got adjacent property, and hegave rather more than he would ha' done in other circumstances. I got,"he continued, consulting the topmost of his papers, "I got, in roundfigures, three thousand four hundred--to be exact, three thousand fourhundred, seventeen, five, eleven."
"Where's the money?" demanded Miss Pett.
"It's here," answered Christopher, tapping his breast. "In mypocket-book. Notes, big and little--so that we can settle up."
Miss Pett stretched out her hand.
"Hand it over!" she said.
Christopher gave his aunt a sidelong glance.
"Hadn't we better reckon up my costs and commission first?" hesuggested. "Here's an account of the costs--the commission, of course,was to be settled between you and me."
"We'll settle all that when you've handed the money over," said MissPett. "I haven't counted it yet."
There was a certain unwillingness in Christopher Pett's manner as heslowly produced a stout pocket-book and took from it a thick wad ofbank-notes. He pushed this across to his aunt, with a tiny heap ofsilver and copper.
"Well, I'm trusting to you, you know," he said a little doubtfully."Don't forget that I've done well for you."
Miss Pett made no answer. She had taken a pair of spectacles from herpocket, and with these perched on the bridge of her sharp nose sheproceeded to count the notes, while her nephew alternately sipped at histoddy and stroked his chin, meanwhile eyeing his relative's proceedingswith somewhat rueful looks.
"Three thousand, four hundred and seventeen pounds, five shillings andelevenpence," and Miss Pett calmly. "And them costs, now, and theexpenses--how much do they come to, Chris?"
"Sixty-one, two, nine," answered Christopher, passing one of his papersacross the table with alacrity. "You'll find it quite right--I did it ascheap as possible for you."
Miss Pett set her elbow on her heap of bank-notes while she examined thestatement. That done, she looked over the tops of her spectacles at theexpectant Christopher.
"Well, about that commission," she said. "Of course, you know, Chris,you oughtn't to charge me what you'd charge other folks. You ought to doit very reasonable indeed for me. What were you thinking of, now?"
"I got the top price," remarked Christopher reflectively. "I got youquite four hundred more than the market price. How would--how would fiveper cent. be, now?"
Miss Pett threw up the gay turban with a toss of surprise.
"Five per cent!" she ejaculated. "Christopher Pett!--whatever are youtalking about? Why, that 'ud be a hundred and seventy pound! Eh,dear!--nothing of the sort--it 'ud be as good as robbery. I'm astonishedat you."
"Well, how much, then?" growled Christopher. "Hang it all!--don't beclose with your own nephew."
"I'll give you a hundred pounds--to include the costs," said Miss Pettfirmly. "Not a penny more--but," she added, bending forward and noddingher head towards that half of the cottage wherein Mallalieu slumbered soheavily, "I'll give you something to boot--an opportunity of featheringyour nest out of--him!"
Christopher's face, which had clouded heavily, lightened somewhat atthis, and he too glanced at the door.
"Will it be worth it?" he asked doubtfully. "What is there to be got outof him if he's flying from justice? He'll carry naught--and he can't getat anything that he has, either."
Miss Pett gave vent to a queer, dry chuckle; the sound of her laughteralways made her nephew think of the clicking of machinery that badlywanted oiling.
"He's heaps o' money on him!" she whispered. "After he dropped offtonight I went through his pockets. We've only got to keep a tight holdon him to get as much as ever we like! So--put your hundred in yourpocket, and we'll see abo
ut the other affair tomorrow."
"Oh, well, of course, in that case!" said Christopher. He picked up thebanknote which his aunt pushed towards him and slipped it into hispurse. "We shall have to play on his fears a bit, you know," heremarked.
"I think we shall be equal to it--between us," answered Miss Pett drily."Them big, flabby men's easy frightened."
Mallalieu was certainly frightened when he woke suddenly next morning tofind Miss Pett standing at the side of his bed. He glared at her for oneinstant of wild alarm and started up on his pillows. Miss Pett laid oneof her claw-like hands on his shoulder.
"Don't alarm yourself, mister," she said. "All's safe, and here'ssomething that'll do you good--a cup of nice hot coffee--real Mocha, towhich the late Kitely was partial--with a drop o'rum in it. Drinkit--and you shall have your breakfast in half an hour. It's past nineo'clock."
"I must have slept very sound," said Mallalieu, following his gaoler'sorders. "You say all's safe? Naught heard or seen?"
"All's safe, all's serene," replied Miss Pett. "And you're in luck'sway, for there's my nephew Christopher arrived from London, to help meabout settling my affairs and removing my effects from this place, andhe's a lawyer and'll give you good advice."
Mallalieu growled a little. He had seen Mr. Christopher Pett and he wasinclined to be doubtful of him.
"Is he to be trusted?" he muttered. "I expect he'll have to be squared,too!"
"Not beyond reason," replied Miss Pett. "We're not unreasonable people,our family. He's a very sensible young man, is Christopher. The lateKitely had a very strong opinion of his abilities."
Mallalieu had no doubt of Mr. Christopher Pett's abilities in a certaindirection after he had exchanged a few questions and answers with thatyoung gentleman. For Christopher was shrewd, sharp, practical andjudicial.
"It's a very dangerous and--you'll excuse plain speaking under thecircumstances, sir--very foolish thing that you've done, Mr. Mallalieu,"he said, as he and the prisoner sat closeted together in the stillshuttered and curtained parlour-bedroom. "The mere fact of your makingyour escape, sir, is what some would consider a proof of guilt--it isindeed! And of course my aunt--and myself, in my small way--we'rerunning great risks, Mr. Mallalieu--we really are--great risks!"
"Now then, you'll not lose by me," said Mallalieu. "I'm not a man ofstraw."
"All very well, sir," replied Christopher, "but even if you were amillionaire and recompensed us on what I may term a princely scale--notthat we shall expect it, Mr. Mallalieu--the risks would beextraordinary--ahem! I mean will be extraordinary. For you see, Mr.Mallalieu, there's two or three things that's dead certain. To startwith, sir, it's absolutely impossible for you to get away from here byyourself--you can't do it!"
"Why not?" growled Mallalieu. "I can get away at nightfall."
"No, sir," affirmed Christopher stoutly. "I saw the condition of themoors last night. Patrolled, Mr. Mallalieu, patrolled! By men withlights. That patrolling, sir, will go on for many a night. Make up yourmind, Mr. Mallalieu, that if you set foot out of this house, you'll seethe inside of Norcaster Gaol before two hours is over!"
"What do you advise, then?" demanded Mallalieu. "Here!--I'm fairly infor it, so I'll tell you what my notion was. If I can once get to acertain part of Norcaster, I'm safe. I can get away to the Continentfrom there."
"Then, sir," replied Christopher, "the thing is to devise a plan bywhich you can be conveyed to Norcaster without suspicion. That'll haveto be arranged between me and my aunt--hence our risks on your behalf."
"Your aunt said she'd a plan," remarked Mallalieu.
"Not quite matured, sir," said Christopher. "It needs a littlereflection and trimming, as it were. Now what I advise, Mr. Mallalieu,is this--you keep snug here, with my aunt as sentinel--she assures methat even if the police--don't be frightened, sir!--did come here, shecould hide you quite safely before ever she opened the door to them. Asfor me, I'll go, casual-like, into the town, and do a bit of quietlooking and listening. I shall be able to find out how the land lies,sir--and when I return I'll report to you, and the three of us will putour heads together."
Leaving the captive in charge of Miss Pett, Christopher, having brushedhis silk hat and his overcoat and fitted on a pair of black kid gloves,strolled solemnly into Highmarket. He was known to a few people there,and he took good care to let those of his acquaintance who met him hearthat he had come down to arrange his aunt's affairs, and to help in theremoval of the household goods bequeathed to her by the deceased Kitely.In proof of this he called in at the furniture remover's, to get anestimate of the cost of removal to Norcaster Docks--thence, saidChristopher, the furniture could be taken by sea to London, where MissPett intended to reside in future. At the furniture remover's, and insuch other shops as he visited, and in the bar-parlour of the HighmarketArms, where he stayed an hour or so, gossiping with the loungers, andsipping a glass or two of dry sherry, Christopher picked up a great dealof information. And at noon he returned to the cottage, having learnedthat the police and everybody in Highmarket firmly believed thatMallalieu had got clear and clean away the night before, and was alreadyfar beyond pursuit. The police theory was that there had been collusion,and that immediately on his escape he had been whirled off by someperson to whose identity there was as yet no clue.
But Christopher Pett told a very different story to Mallalieu. Themoors, he said, were being patrolled night and day: it was believed thefugitive was in hiding in one of the old quarries. Every road andentrance to Norcaster, and to all the adjacent towns and stations, waswatched and guarded. There was no hope for Mallalieu but in the kindnessand contrivance of the aunt and the nephew, and Mallalieu recognized theinevitable and was obliged to yield himself to their tender mercies.