*CHAPTER XVI*
*BAITING THE TRAP*
Next day Boyne remained in the house until Marigold had left to go tothe City--for she was anxious to report the result of her vigil to herlover and then, instead of going out upon his daily collection ofinsurance premiums, he went to Pont Street.
He arrived at the fine red-brick house about eleven, opening the doorwith his latchkey. He found his wife in her bedroom, and closing thedoor, he exclaimed in an unusually excited voice:
"Lilla! there's trouble brewing--_very serious trouble_!"
"In what direction?" gasped the handsome woman, starting from the longmirror before which she was arranging her blouse.
"That girl Marigold--the old woman Felmore's niece--is suspicious, andshe has established herself in my house in order to watch me!"
"Why is she suspicious?"
"I don't know. That's the mystery of it. How much she knows I can'ttell."
"One thing is plain," said the woman. "If we are to save ourselves, herlips must be closed. Surely that will be easy--just a nice box ofchocolates, tied with ribbon, or something like that--eh? We did itbefore with little Louise, at Cheltenham."
"Yes--but I don't like doing it. She's really an awfully nice girl, andI haven't the heart to give her a 'dose.'"
"She's watching you, you say! Therefore she's a danger to us all.Didn't I warn you about her weeks ago? If you don't want to courttrouble, just give her a box of those beautiful expensive sweets, andthen good-bye to all our worries."
Boyne made no answer.
His wife saw his hesitation, and went on:
"It was a rotten trick at Cheltenham, I admit, but it had to bedone--just as it must be done in this case. We surely can't afford totake any risks, my dear Bernie! What a good job that you've found outthat she suspects--eh?" she remarked. "So she must fade out--and veryquickly, too. It's up to you to do the necessary!"
"But the man--this clerk in Mincing Lane--Gerald Durrant. He's a mostpertinacious person, it seems. We have, I think, more to fear from himthan from the girl," Boyne said.
"Didn't I express doubt a week or so ago, but you assured me that it wasall right?" retorted the handsome woman. "Well--what are you going todo?"
"Do! Why, there's only one way--put an end to their inquisitiveness,"he replied.
"Do be careful."
Oh, I will be--never fear. But I shall want your assistance, Lilla, andperhaps Ena's too. Neither the man nor the girl is acquainted witheither of you, which is one point in our favour."
"Have you thought out any plan?" she asked anxiously.
"I've not completed it yet," he answered.
"There must be no failure, remember," said his wife, betrayingconsiderable anxiety. "What could have aroused the suspicions of thisaccursed girl, I wonder?"
"Ah! I can't tell. I'm always most careful. But I have confirmed mysuspicion that while the girl is in the house the fellow watchesoutside. He followed me last night, and I led him a pretty good chaseup to Hampstead, where I called to see Ted Lyons."
"Ted might be useful--eh?" she exclaimed quickly.
"No. We must keep this affair to ourselves. It's far too dangerous."
"Well, Ena and I will help you. But something ought surely to be doneas soon as possible!"
"I quite agree, Lilla. But the question is how shall we act for thebest?"
"It's easy to deal with the girl--especially as she's living in yourhouse for a week--but how shall we tackle the man?" she asked.
"That's the difficulty. I don't want anything to happen while she's inmy house," was his reply. "I allowed her to stay because I wanted tosatisfy myself that she was really spying. Now I've confirmed mysuspicions, and we must act."
"Well, at any rate, it's a good thing that we know the truth," the womananswered. "You must have blundered in some way or other, so it is up toyou to wriggle out of a very awkward situation."
"It is awkward, I admit," he said, gazing blankly out of the window."If they got to know the true secret of that upstairs room, it wouldmean that we should at once be in Queer Street, in more senses thanone--shouldn't we?"
"They must not know!" said the woman in a hard, fierce tone. "You willknow how to deal with them, Bernard. People who have tried to pry intoour private affairs before have, all of them, bitterly regrettedit--haven't they?"
Boyne grunted, but made no reply.
"Will you tell Ena?" she asked.
"Not yet. It may only frighten her unduly. When I want her help I'llsee her--perhaps to-morrow," was his reply.
"I suppose we ought to have news from Lancaster Gate very soon," shesaid. "Mrs. Morrison went to tea with Ena yesterday. To-day she hasgone back to Brighton, but is due here again to-morrow."
"Yes, we ought to hear of some development soon," he said with a grimsmile. "That affair is going all right. It's this girl and her man whoare so confoundedly dangerous to our plans."
"You had similar trouble with Aitken a year ago, and you found an easyway out of it, Bernard. No doubt you'll soon think of some means bywhich an end can be put to their infernal inquisitiveness."
"I have a call to make," he said, rising from his chair suddenly. "I'llbe back again this afternoon. I'm going into the City."
And he went out.
At lunch time Marigold met her lover, and it was arranged that, as hewould be at the office late that evening, he should not resume his watchuntil the following evening, neither of them, of course, suspecting thatBoyne knew they were keeping him under observation or that he was busylaying a most devilish plan for their undoing.
Gerald Durrant had grown fonder of Marigold than ever, and the pair werenow inseparable. He disliked the idea of the girl living in that houseof mystery, but she told him that she was in no way afraid, and that shewas determined to solve the curious motive of Boyne's double life.
When, at six o'clock, she returned she sat down to tea with her aunt,and later, while she was laying Mr. Boyne's table, he came in, greetingher cheerily, as was his wont.
His attitude towards her was distinctly friendly, for he gave no outwardsign of suspicion.
The evening passed uneventfully, for Boyne went out about eight o'clock,and he did not return until long after the old woman and her niece werein bed.
Marigold listened, but only heard him go up to his bedroom and close thedoor. After that there was no other sound.
Boyne spent part of the following day with Lilla at Pont Street, wherehe held a long and secret consultation with her, after which he took ataxi to Upper Brook Street and sat with Ena for half an hour, explainingwhat he had discovered concerning the unwelcome attention which youngDurrant and the girl was paying to him.
The Red Widow at once became greatly perturbed.
"But how much can they know?" she gasped, leaning forward in her chair,pale and agitated.
"Very little."
"They know nothing of your upstairs friend--eh?"
"No. But they may suspect."
"Then their suspicion must be at once removed, my dear Bernie!" said thewoman, in a decisive voice. "We are, I see, confronted with a verygrave peril."
"I agree. Lionel will be wondering why I've not been up to see himsince Sunday. I shall go up this afternoon, before the girl comes backfrom the bank. I've got a lot of stuff to take up to him. He's got nokettle, poor chap!"
"Ah! What a life he must lead," said the woman.
"It is his own fault. He was too curious--and he got the worst of it,as they all do!"
"But he was quite harmless. This fellow Durrant is our enemy."
"And he must be treated as such. I've found out a lot about hismovements," said Boyne.
"You quickly find out about people, Bernie. You're really wonderful."
"Not very wonderful, Ena," he laughed. "I simply went a few days ago toChalmers, the private inquiry agent in Regent Street who has done workfor me often. I told him I
had lent young Durrant money, and wanted toknow something of his habits and of his friends. This morning I had along confidential report about him. He lives out at Ealing."
"A pity you allowed the girl to stay with her aunt. Why ever did you doso?"
"Well, if she wished to walk into a trap, then it surely wasn't mybusiness to keep her out of it--was it?" he asked, with a sinistersmile. "I knew the reason why she had so suddenly been deprived of herroom at Wimbledon Park, and allowed her to think that I was a fool."
"She'll no doubt know different ere long," laughed the Red Widow.
Then, opening the door, Boyne satisfied himself that there was noservant in the passage, and returning to her, he began to speak rapidlyin a low, tense voice.
"What?" she asked breathlessly, when he had finished. "To-night?"
"Yes, to-night--why not?" he asked. "Wear one of your smartest blackdresses. Come round and see Lilla. Then you and she can arrangethings."
"But, Bernard! It's a most desperate game!"
"Not more so than any other," he laughed. "A dangerous situation alwayscalls for drastic measures."
"But will the trap be sufficiently well-baited?"
"I'll see to that--never fear! Just act as I tell you and to-morrow weshan't have much to fear from at least one of this inquisitive pair!"
For a few minutes she seemed lost in thought.
"Ah! I see you are hesitating, Ena!" he laughed again.
"I am. It's a terrible plot!"
"Bah! Fancy you saying so--you! who have assisted to bring off so manylittle affairs that have brought us big money. Surely you're notgrowing squeamish now, at a moment when we are all in distinct peril?"
"No," she answered with an effort, for it was evident that the planwhich he had placed before her had held her horrified. "No, I--I'mnot--not at all squeamish, but--well--I'm wondering if we couldn't findsome other way out of it."
"None. We're in danger, and we must take precautions to defendourselves--at once--to-night!"
"Very well," she answered somewhat reluctantly. "I'll go round to Lillaabout six."
"When we meet we shall do so as strangers, of course," he said, with asinister smile. "Look your best--won't you?"
"Very well," she laughed, and five minutes later he sat down at thetelephone in the room and spoke to his wife.
"All right, Lilla," he said. "Ena will be with you about six. I'vetold her exactly what we've arranged. I'm now going back toHammersmith," and, after hanging up the receiver, he took leave of theRed Widow and went direct to Bridge Place.
Mrs. Felmore was surprised that her master should return so early, forhe was at home before five. Marigold had not come in from the office,therefore he sent the deaf old woman out to the post, and, putting onhis long white gown, took up to the attic the new tin kettle and someother things. But he did not obtain them from that cupboard in hisroom. He had purchased duplicates on his way home.
He was not upstairs for more than five minutes--just sufficient toreassure the weird recluse and hand to him the necessities required.Then he came down again, and calmly read the evening paper till his mealwas ready.
Marigold did not return before seven, but she left her lover to resumehis vigil outside.
At eight o'clock Bernard Boyne went out as usual, and Marigold spentanother quiet evening with her aunt, confident that Gerald was keeping avery vigilant eye upon the man of mystery!
Next day at the lunch hour she went eagerly to the little restaurant,but he did not put in an appearance. She wondered why.
On returning to the bank she at once rang up his office, but wasinformed that he had not been there that day! He had sent his principala telegram stating that he had been suddenly taken ill, and apologisedfor his absence. The doctor had said that he could not return forseveral days.
Making excuse to Mr. Kenyon, the assistant manager, she left the bank atfour, and at once went over to Ealing, only to find that his sister hadreceived a telegram late on the previous night, which had been handed inat Charing Cross Post Office and read:
"_Don't worry! Am all right. Returning in two or three days.Writing._--GERALD."
Further mystified, she at once went back to Hammersmith, where she founda telegram which had arrived for her at eleven o'clock that morning. Ithad been dispatched from Knightsbridge, and read:
"_Am all right, dear! Do not worry. Have discovered something, but amnot returning for a day or two._--GERRY."
"Is it from Mr. Boyne?" asked her aunt as she watched the girl's face.
"No. Why?" she asked.
"Because Mr. Boyne hasn't been home all night," was her aunt's reply."I can't think what's happened to him! When I went up this morning towake him, because I thought he had overslept himself, I found that hisbed had not been slept in!"