CHAPTER XXVI
THE FATE OF M. PIGOT
Whatever may have been Grady's defects of insight and imagination, hewas energetic enough when thoroughly aroused. Almost before the echoof that slamming door had died away, he was beside the sergeant'sdesk.
"Get out the reserves," he ordered, "and have the other wagon around.'Phone headquarters to rush every man available up to the Day andNight Bank, and say it's from me!"
He stood chewing his cigar savagely as the sergeant hastened to obey.In a moment, the reserves came tumbling out, struggling into theircoats; there was a clatter of hoofs in the street as the wagon dashedup; the reserves piled into it, permitting me to crowd in besidethem, Grady jumped to the seat beside the driver, and we were off ata gallop, our gong waking the echoes of the silent street.
I clung to the hand-rail as the wagon swayed back and forth orbounded into the air as it struck the car-tracks, and stared out intothe night, struggling to understand. Could Godfrey be right? But ofcourse he was right! Some intuition told me that; and yet, how hadCrochard managed to substitute himself for the French detective?Where was Pigot? Was he lying somewhere in a crumpled heap, with atiny wound upon his hand? But that could not be--Grady and Simmondshad been with him all the evening! And could that aged Frenchman withthe white, fine, wrinkled skin be also the bronzed and virilepersonage whom I had known as Felix Armand? My reason reeled beforethe seeming impossibility of it--and yet, somehow, I knew thatGodfrey was right!
The wagon came to a stop so suddenly that I was thrown violentlyagainst the man next to me, and the reserves, leaping out, swept mebefore them. We were in front of the Day and Night Bank, and at aword from Grady, the men spread into a close cordon before thebuilding.
Another police wagon stood at the curb, with the driver still on theseat, but as Grady started toward it, a figure appeared at the doorof the bank and shouted to us--shouted in inarticulate words which Icould not understand. But Grady seemed to understand them, and wentup the steps two at a time, with an agility surprising in so large aman, and which I was hard put to it to match. A little group stood atone side of the vestibule looking down at some one extended on acushioned seat. And, an instant later, I saw that it was Simmonds,lying on his back, his eyes open and staring apparently at theceiling.
But, at the second glance, I saw that the eyes were sightless.
Grady elbowed his way savagely through the group.
"Where's Kelly?" he demanded.
At the words, a white-faced man in uniform arose from a chair intowhich he had plainly dropped exhausted.
"Oh, there you are!" and Grady glowered at him ferociously. "Now tellme what happened--and tell it quick!"
"Why, sir," stammered Kelly, "there wasn't anything happened. Onlywhen we stopped out there at the curb and I got down and opened thedoor, there wasn't nobody in the wagon but Mr. Simmonds. I spoke tohim and he didn't answer--and then I touched him and he kind of fellover--and then I rushed in here and 'phoned the station; but theysaid you'd already started for the bank; and then we went out andbrought him in here--and that's all I know, sir."
"You didn't hear anything--no sound of a struggle?"
"Not a sound, sir; not a single sound."
"And you haven't any idea where the other man got out?"
"No, sir."
"Mr. Simmonds had a little valise with him--did you notice it?"
"Yes, sir; and I looked for it in the wagon, but it ain't there."
Grady turned away with a curse as four or five men ran in from thestreet--the men from headquarters, I told myself. I could hear himtalking to them in sharp, low tones, and then they departed assuddenly as they had come. The reserves also hurried away, and Iconcluded that Grady was trying to throw a net about the territory inwhich the fugitive was probably concealed; but my interest in thatmanoeuvre was overshadowed, for the time being, by my anxiety forSimmonds. I picked up his right hand and looked at it; then I drew adeep breath of relief, for it was uninjured.
"Has anyone sent for a doctor?" I asked.
"Yes, sir," one of the bank attaches answered. "We telephoned for oneat once--here he is, now!" he added, as a little black-bearded manentered, carry the inevitably-identifying medicine case.
The newcomer glanced at the body, waved us back, fell on one knee,stripped away the clothing from the breast and applied his ear to theheart. Then he looked into the staring eyes, drew down the lids,watched them snap up again, and then hastily opened his case.
"Let's have some water," he said.
"Then he's not dead?" I questioned, as one of the clerks sprang toobey.
"Dead? No; but he's had a taste or whiff of something that hasstopped the heart action."
With a queer, creepy feeling over my scalp, I remembered the littleflask half-full of blood-red liquid which Crochard carried in hispocket.
But he had not meant murder this time; I remembered that Godfrey hadsaid he never killed an adversary. The doctor worked briskly away,and, at the end of a few minutes, Simmonds's eyes suddenly closed, hedrew a long breath, and sat erect. Then his eyes opened, and he satswaying unsteadily and staring amazedly about him.
"Best lie down again," said the doctor soothingly. "You're a littlewobbly yet, you know."
"Where am I?" gasped Simmonds. Then his eyes encountered mine."Lester!" he said. "Where is he--Piggott? Not...."
He stopped short, looked once around at the gleaming marble of thebank, fumbled for something at his side, and fell senseless on theseat.
I have no recollection of how I got back to the Marathon. I suppose Imust have walked; but my first distinct remembrance is of findingmyself sitting in my favourite chair, pipe in hand. The pipe was lit,so I suppose I must have lighted it mechanically, and I found that Ihad also mechanically changed into my lounging-coat. I glanced at mywatch and saw that it was nearly four o'clock.
The top of my head was burning as though with fever, and I went intothe bathroom and turned the cold water on it. The shock did me aworld of good, and by the time I had finished a vigorous toweling Ifelt immensely better. So I returned to my chair and sat down toreview the events of the evening; but I found that somehow my brainrefused to work, and black circles began to whirl before my eyesagain.
"I told Godfrey I couldn't stand any more of this," I muttered, andstumbled into my bedroom, undressed with difficulty, and turned outthe light.
Then, as I lay there, staring up into the darkness, a stingingthought brought me upright.
Godfrey--where was Godfrey? Was he on the track of Crochard? Was hedaring a contest with him? Perhaps, even at this moment....
Scarcely knowing what I did, I groped my way to the telephone andasked for Godfrey's number--hoping against hope absurdly--and atlast, to my intense surprise and relief, I heard his voice--not avery amiable voice....
"Hello!" he said.
"Godfrey," I began, "it's Lester. He got away."
"Of course he got away. You didn't call me out of bed to tell methat, I hope?"
"Then you knew about it?"
"I knew he'd get away."
"When the wagon got to the bank there was nobody inside but Simmonds.Simmonds went along, you know."
"Was he hurt?"
"He was unconscious, but he came around all right."
"That's good--but Crochard wouldn't hurt him. He got away with thejewels, of course?"
"Of course," I assented, surprised that Godfrey should take it socoolly. "When you rushed out that way," I added, "I thought maybe youwere going after him."
"With him twenty minutes in the lead? I'm no such fool! He got awayfrom me the other day with a start of about half a second."
"I tried to get you," I explained, "as soon as Simmonds told me theywere going to look at the cabinet. I 'phoned the office. The cityeditor said he had sent you out into Westchester."
Godfrey laughed shortly.
"It was a wild-goose chase," he said, "cooked up by our friendCrochard. But even then, I'd have got back, if we hadn't puncture
d atire when we were five miles from anywhere. I knew what was up--butthere I was. Oh, he's made fools of us all, Lester. I told you hewould!"
"Then you didn't get my message?"
"Yes--they gave it to me when I 'phoned in that the Westchesterbusiness was a fake. I rushed for the station, though I knew I'd betoo late."
"But, Godfrey," I said, "I can't understand, even yet, how he did it.Grady and Simmonds left the boat with Pigot and were with him allevening, showing him the sights. How did Crochard get into it? Whatdid he do with Pigot? Where _is_ Pigot?"
"He's on the _Savoie._ I rushed a wireless down to her as soon as Ileft the station. They made a search and found Pigot bound and gaggedunder the berth in his stateroom."
I could only gasp.
"And to think I didn't suspect!" added Godfrey, bitterly. "We stoodthere and saw that yacht with the French flag walk away from us; wesaw her put a man aboard the _Savoie_; we saw that man talking toPigot...."
"Yes," I said, breathlessly; "yes."
"Well, that man was Crochard. He got Pigot into his stateroom--gavehim a whiff of the same stuff he used on Simmonds, no doubt; put himout of the way under the berth; got into his clothes, made up hisface, _put_ on a wig--and all that while we were kicking our heelsoutside waiting for him."
"But it was a tremendous risk," I said. "There were so many people onboard who knew Pigot--it would have to be a perfect disguise."
"Crochard wouldn't stop for that. But it wasn't much of a risk. Noneof us had seen Pigot closely; all we had seen of him was the back ofhis head; and the passengers were all on deck watching the quarantinemen. And yet, of course, the disguise was a perfect one. Crochard isan artist in that line, and he was, no doubt, thoroughly familiarwith Pigot's appearance. He deceived the purser--but the purserwouldn't suspect anything!"
"So it was really Crochard...."
"But _we_ ought to have suspected. We ought to have suspectedeverything, questioned everything; I ought to have looked up thatvisitor and found out what became of him. Instead of which, Crochardput Pigot's papers in his pocket, set his bag outside the stateroomdoor, and then came out calmly to meet his dear friends of the press;and I stood there talking to him like a little schoolboy--no wonderhe thinks I'm a fool!"
"But nobody would have suspected!" I gasped. "Why, that man is-is...."
"A genius," said Godfrey. "An absolute and unquestioned genius. But Iknew that all the time, and I ought to have been on guard. Youremember he said he would come to-day?"
"Yes."
"And you didn't believe it."
"I can't believe it yet."
"There's one consolation--it will break Grady."
"But, Godfrey," I said, "if you could have seen those diamonds--thosebeautiful diamonds--and to think he should be able to get away withthem from right under our noses!"
"It's pretty bad, isn't it? But there's no use crying over spiltmilk. Lester," he added, in another tone, "I want you to be in youroffice at noon to-morrow--or rather, to-day."
"All right," I promised; "I'll be there."
"Don't fail me. There is one act of the comedy still to be played."
"I'll be there," I said again. "But I'm afraid the last act will bean anti-climax. Look here, Godfrey...."
"Now go to bed," he broke in; "you're talking like a somnambulist.Get some sleep. Have you arranged for that vacation?"
"Godfrey," I said, "tell me...."
"I won't tell you anything. Only I've got one more bomb to explode,Lester, and it's a big one. It will make you jump!"
I could hear him chuckling to himself.
"Good-night," he said, and hung up.