Read The Mystery of the Boule Cabinet: A Detective Story Page 19


  CHAPTER XIX

  "LA MORT!"

  That my legs, without conscious effort of my own, should carry me upthe Avenue and around the corner after the cab in which I had seenGodfrey was a foregone conclusion, and yet it was with a certainvexation of spirit that I found myself racing along, for I realisedthat Godfrey had not been entirely frank with me. Certainly he haddropped no hint of his intention to follow Armand; but, I toldmyself, that might very well have been because he deemed such a hintunnecessary. I might have guessed, in spite of his seeming unconcern,that he would not allow the cabinet to pass from his sight; if he hadbeen willing for me to turn it over to Armand, it was only because heexpected developments of some sort to follow that transfer.

  And it suddenly dawned upon me that even I did not know the cabinet'sdestination! It had not occurred to me to inquire where M. Armandproposed to take it, and he had volunteered no information.

  So, after a moment, I took up the chase more contentedly, tellingmyself that Godfrey would not have waved to me if he had not wantedme along, and I reached the corner in time to see the van turnnorthward into Sixth Avenue. As soon as it and the cabs whichfollowed it were out of sight, I sprinted along the sidewalk at topspeed, and, on arriving at the corner, had the satisfaction of seeingthem only a little way ahead. Here the congestion of traffic was suchthat the van could proceed but slowly, and I had no difficulty inkeeping pace with it, without the necessity of making myselfconspicuous by running. Indeed, I rather hung back, burying myself inthe crowds on the sidewalk, for fear that Armand might chance toglance around and see me in pursuit.

  I saw that Godfrey and Simmonds had the same fear, for the cab inwhich they were drew up at the curb and waited there until the vanhad got some distance ahead. At Sixteenth Street, it turned westwardagain, and then northward into Seventh Avenue.

  What could Armand be doing in this part of the town, I asked myself?Did he propose to leave that priceless cabinet in this dingy quarter?And then I paused abruptly and slipped into an area-way, for the vanhad stopped some distance ahead and was backing up to the curb.

  Looking out discreetly, I saw the cab containing Armand stop also,and that gentleman alighted and paid the driver. The other cabrattled on at a good pace and disappeared up the Avenue. Then the twoporters lifted out the cabinet, and, with Armand showing them theway, carried it into the building before which the van had stopped.

  They were gone perhaps five minutes, from which I argued that theywere carrying it upstairs; then they reappeared, with Armandaccompanying them. He tipped them and went out also to tip the driverof the van. Then the porters climbed aboard and it rattled away outof sight. Armand stood for a moment on the step, looking up and downthe Avenue, then disappeared indoors.

  An instant later, I saw Godfrey and another man whom I recognised asSimmonds, come out of a shop across the street and dash over to thehouse into which the cabinet had been taken. They were standing onthe door-step when I joined them.

  It was a dingy building, entirely typical of the dingy neighbourhood.The ground floor was occupied by a laundry which the sign on thefront window declared to be French; and the room which the windowlighted extended the whole width of the building except for a doorwhich opened presumably on the stairway leading to the upper stories.

  Godfrey's face was flaming with excitement as he turned the knob ofthis door gently--gently. The door was locked. He stooped and appliedan eye to the key-hole.

  "The key is in the lock," he whispered.

  Simmonds took from his pocket a pair of slender pliers and passedthem over.

  Godfrey looked up and down the street, saw that for the moment therewas no one near, inserted the pliers in the key-hole, grasped the endof the key, and turned it slowly.

  "Now!" he said, softly opened the door and slipped inside. Ifollowed, and Simmonds came after me like a shadow, closing the doorcarefully behind him.

  Then we all stopped, and my heart, at least, was in my mouth, for,from somewhere overhead, came the sound of a man's voice talkingexcitedly.

  Even in the semi-darkness, I could see the look of astonishment andalarm on Godfrey's face, as he stood for a moment motionless,listening to that voice. I also stood with ears a-strain, but I couldmake nothing of what it was saying; then suddenly I realised that itwas speaking in French. And yet it was not Armand's voice--of that Iwas certain.

  Fronting us was a narrow stair mounting steeply to the storyoverhead, and, after that moment's amazed hesitation, Godfrey satdown on the bottom step and removed his shoes, motioning us to do thesame. Simmonds obeyed phlegmatically, but my hands were trembling sowith excitement that I was in mortal terror lest I drop one of myshoes; but I managed to get them both off without mishap, and to setthem softly on the floor at the stair-foot.

  When at last I looked up with a sigh of relief, Godfrey and Simmondswere stealing slowly up the stair, revolver in hand. I followed them,but I confess my knees were knocking together, for there wassomething weird and chilling in that voice going on and on. Itsounded like the voice of a madman; there was something about it atonce ferocious and triumphant....

  Godfrey paused an instant at the stairhead, listening intently; thenhe moved cautiously forward toward an open door from which the voiceseemed to come, motioning us at the same time to stay where we were.And as I knelt, bathed in perspiration, I caught one word, repeatedover and over:

  "_Revanche!--Revanche!--Revanche!_"

  Then the voice fell to a sort of low growling, as of a dog whichworries its prey, and I caught a sound as of ripping cloth.

  Godfrey, on hands and knees, was peering into the room. Then he drewback and motioned us forward.

  I shall never forget the sight which met my eyes as I peepedcautiously around the corner of the door.

  The room into which I was looking was lighted only by the rays whichfiltered between the slats of a closed shutter. In the middle of thefloor stood the Boule cabinet, and before it, with his back to thedoor, stood a man ripping savagely away the strips of burlap in whichit had been wrapped, talking to himself the while in a sort of savagesing-song, and pausing from moment to moment to glance at a huddledbundle lying on the floor against the opposite wall. For a time, Icould not make out what this bundle was, then, straining my eyes, Isaw that it was the body of a man, wrapped round and round in someweb-like fabric.

  And as I stared at him, I caught the glitter of his eyes as hewatched the man working at the cabinet--a glitter not to be mistaken--the same glitter which had so frightened me once before....

  Godfrey drew me back with a firm hand and took my place. As for me, Iretreated to the stair, and sat there feverishly mopping my face andtrying to understand. Who was this man? What was he doing thereagainst the wall? What was the meaning of this ferocious scene....

  Then my heart leaped into my throat, for Godfrey, with a sharp cry of"_Halte-la!_" sprang to his feet and dashed into the room, Simmondsat his heels.

  I suppose two seconds elapsed before I reached the threshold, and Istopped there, staring, clutching at the wall to steady myself.

  That scene is so photographed upon my brain that I have only to closemy eyes to see it again in every detail.

  There was the cabinet with its wrappings torn away; but the figure onthe floor had disappeared, and before an open doorway into anotherroom stood a man, a giant of a man, his hands above his head, hisface working with fear and rage, while Godfrey, his lips curling intoa mocking smile, pressed a pistol against his breast.

  Then, as I stood there staring, it seemed to me that there was a sortof flicker in the air above the man's head, and he screamed shrilly.

  "_La mort!_" he shrieked. "_La mort!_"

  For one dreadful instant longer he stood there motionless, his handsstill held aloft, his eyes staring horribly; then, with a strangledcry, he pitched forward heavily at Godfrey's feet.