CHAPTER XXXII
THE TENTS OF UNGODLINESS
Frank Sommerville, Chief Inspector of the Criminal InvestigationDepartment, a big, dark-moustached man, stretched his long legs from theeasy chair in which he was sitting, some half an hour after my interviewwith Lola and Edward Craig, clasped his hands behind his head, andlooking over at me, exclaimed--
"By Jove! Vidal. That's one of the most astounding stories I've everheard! And the young lady is actually in the next room with the 'dead'man Craig?"
"Yes, they're ready to go up to Hampstead," I said. "If we are shrewd weshall catch all three. They did that burglary at Bennington's, in OxfordStreet, last night."
"How do you know, my dear fellow?" he asked.
"For the simple reason that I was there," I laughed.
He looked astounded.
"I remember the report on the Cromer mystery, last June, perfectlywell," he said. "But I never dreamed that you'd taken the matter up. Weshall certainly do well if we can lay hands on Jeanjean, for we getconstant reports from Paris about his wonderful exploits. I had one onlythis morning. He is suspected of having done a big job at a jeweller'sin St. Petersburg, lately."
"Very well," I answered. "Let us take a taxi up to Arkwright Road atonce. Benham, your ex-sergeant, is already there awaiting us, as well asmy servant, Rayner."
Together we entered the next room, where Craig and Lola were sittingclosely together, and I introduced them to the well-known ChiefDetective-Inspector. Then, after Sommerville had telephoned to hisoffice, and ordered up to Hampstead three of his men, we waited foranother quarter of an hour to give them time to get to the appointedspot--the public-house in the Finchley Road.
At last we started, and on the way I explained many facts to my oldfriend Sommerville, who, with a hearty laugh, said--
"Well, Vidal, I know you're pretty painstaking over an inquiry, but Inever thought you'd ferret out this great French jewel-thief when we hadfailed! Of course, we've looked upon this man Vernon with suspicion forsome little time. He sold some stolen rubies in Antwerp two months ago,and it was reported to us, but we couldn't get sufficient evidence. Imade some inquiry, and found that he's immensely wealthy, although helives such a changeful life. The house in Arkwright Road is his, but heis never there more than two or three days at a time. He experiments inwireless telegraphy, judging from the masts and wires in his backgarden."
I told him of Jeanjean's powerful station in Algiers, and we agreedthat, by means of a code, the pair were in the habit of exchangingmessages, just as Jeanjean did with his confederate in Genoa.
"Yes," Lola said. "At Merton Lodge there are big dynamos down in thecellars, and when I've been with my uncle at the Villa Beni Hassan, hehas often come from the wireless room and told me he has been speakingwith his friend Vernon in London. Wireless telegraphy is wonderful, isit not?"
Briefly I had described the murderous attack made upon the girl andmyself at that untenanted house in Spring Grove, and, as I finished, thetaxi drew up a few doors from the bar to which I had directed the man todrive.
Ere we could alight, Benham, in the guise of a loafer, had opened thedoor and touched his cap to me with a grin.
In the bar we found the three sergeants from Scotland Yard, as well asRayner, who was greatly excited, and, of course, unaware of the identityof the three men who had entered casually, and were chatting at hiselbow.
"We're going to make three arrests in a house close by," Sommervilleexplained to the trio. "They may make a pretty tough fight, and theyprobably carry revolvers. So keep a sharp look-out."
"All right, sir," the men replied, and were quickly in readiness.
In order not to arouse the suspicion of the three men, we arranged thatLola should first go there alone. Then we would surround the house, backand front, while Sommerville went to the front door and made somepretext. With a man behind him, he would wait until the door opened, andthen rush in, followed by myself and two detectives and the young manCraig.
The arrangements were made in the private room behind the bar, andpresently Lola, bidding us a merry _au revoir_, tripped out.
We gave her about ten minutes, and then in pairs, and by differentroutes, we approached the quiet, highly-respectable-looking house, firsthaving got a couple of constables off the beat.
While Benham, as a loafer, went round to the back entrance, under thepretext of asking for an odd job to clean up the garden, Sommerville andone of his men slipped in and up the front steps.
For a little time his ring remained unanswered, but suddenly the doorwas opened slightly by Bertini.
For a second there was a sharp tussle, the Italian raising the alarm,but in a few moments I found myself, with Craig and Sommerville, insidethe house.
Those moments were indeed exciting ones. Craig's only thought was forLola's safety, and I saw him rush down the prettily-furnished hall andtake her in his arms.
Shouts were raised on all sides.
In the scurry old Vernon dashed out of the room on the left and, meetingLola with her lover, raised the revolver he had drawn and firedpoint-blank at her.
Fortunately, he missed. One of the detectives instantly closed withhim, and I sprang to the officer's assistance. The old fellow, his facelivid, his eyes staring wildly from his head, fought like a tiger,trying to turn his weapon upon us. He had forced the barrel of his bigrevolver right against my jaw, and was in the act of firing, when Iducked my head, and seizing his wrist, twisted it.
At that moment there was a loud explosion, and before I knew the truth Ifound his grip relaxing.
The weapon had been turned upon him as he, in desperation, had fired,and the bullet, entering his brain, had struck him dead.
He collapsed in our arms and we laid him upon the tiled floor.
Within the room, whence the old man had come, a desperate struggle wasin progress, and entering, I found it to be a small library, at one endof which, upon a large table, was arranged a quantity of electricalapparatus--the various instruments necessary for wireless telegraphy.Close to this table, as we entered, stood Jules Jeanjean in the hands ofBenham and the two detectives, while Rayner was standing covering theculprit resolutely with the revolver which he had wrenched from theprisoner's grasp.
Jeanjean's face was changed, his eyes wild and full of evil. In hisfierce dash for liberty his collar had been torn from its studs and thesleeve of his smart blue serge jacket torn out. His hair was awry, andfrom a long scratch on his left cheek blood was freely flowing.
Truly he presented a weird, unkempt appearance, held as he was in thegrip of those three strong, burly officers.
"Be careful!" I urged. "He'll get away if you don't exercise every care.He's as slippery as an eel!"
At my words his captors forced him back against the wall, redoublingtheir grip upon him.
Sommerville and Craig were standing beside Lola, who looked on, nervousand pale-faced. She had been witness to the tragedy out in the hall,and realized what a narrow escape she had had from the vicious oldscoundrel's bullet.
Bertini was in the hall, held in a merciless grip by the two constableswho had been summoned from their beats, and was standing close to thefallen body of the man who had so long been his acknowledged master.
Jules Jeanjean, though forced against the wall by those four men, wasstill wildly defiant, his face distorted by anger. He ceased strugglingin order to curse and abuse his captors, pouring out upon them torrentsof voluble French, a language with which only one of the four men,Rayner, was acquainted, and he but slightly.
"Listen, Jules Jeanjean!" said Sommerville, in a hard, commanding voice."I am a police officer, and I arrest you on charges of theft andmurder."
"Fools!" snarled the prisoner in defiance. "You've made a mistake, agreat mistake! Arrest that girl yonder. Make inquiries about her, andyou will find lots that will interest you."
"It is sufficient for the present to arrest you, my friend," was theChief Inspector's response. "One of your comrades is outside, de
ad, andthe other is under arrest."
Then turning to Lola, he asked--
"Do you identify this man as Jules Jeanjean, Mademoiselle?"
"Yes," the girl replied. "He is my uncle."
"You infernal brat!" shrieked the prisoner, livid with fury. "So it isyou who have given me away, after all! I should have taken the old man'sadvice, and have put you out of the way. _Dieu!_ You and your friend,Vidal, over there, had a narrow escape at Spring Grove. Your grave wasalready dug for you!"
"And yours will also be dug for you before long--when the Judge hassentenced you to death!" I cried.
"Enough!" exclaimed Sommerville, holding up his hand to commandsilence. "We want no recriminations, only the truth. You, and yourfriend Bertini, will have plenty of opportunity for defending yourselveswhen before the court. I think, Mademoiselle," he added, turning towhere Lola was standing beside the man once believed to be dead, "youwill have a strange story to relate to the Judge."
"She'll lie, no doubt," declared Jeanjean with a sneer. "She alwaysdoes."
"No," the girl cried in her pretty, broken English, "I shall the truthspeak. All of the truth."
"Yes," I urged, eagerly. "Reveal to us now the truth concerning themystery on Cromer Cliffs. How it is that Edward Craig, the man who died,is now standing beside you!"
The prisoner, with a frantic struggle to free his arms, and throwhimself upon her, to silence her lips, made a sudden dash forward. Buthis captors closed with him, pinioned him, and held him fiercely by thethroat.
Lola, standing by, drew a long breath, but remained silent.
Her frail little figure seemed unbalanced, she was unnerved andtrembling, two bright spots showing in the centre of her pale cheeks, asshe stood there. Upon her shoulder rested the tender hand of the manwhose end had been so wrapped in mystery.
"Speak, Lola," I urged again. "Have no fear of these men now. Tell usthe plain truth."
"Yes, Lola," Craig added earnestly, "tell them the strange story. Thereis nothing now to be afraid of. Speak the truth and let the law dealwith that assassin."
Again Jeanjean went into a perfect paroxysm of rage. But all to nopurpose, though he bit his lips till the blood came. The men held him sofirmly that he could move neither hand nor foot.
The heavy hand of Justice had fallen upon him!