The British Mysteries Edition: 14 Novels & 70+ Short Stories. Sapper
view of our very amicable chat I can only regret that I took such an unnecessary precaution as to ring up the exchange. I think we understand each other perfectly."
A faint smile crossed Jim's face, which would have caused the dwarf considerable uneasiness had he been able to see it.
"Perfectly," he agreed. "I shall await your suggestion with interest."
"And in the meantime," said the other, "we may dismiss the question of the police, I take it?"
"Assuredly," answered Jim. "A meddlesome body of men. Good night, Mr. Dresler. I have greatly enjoyed our chat."
He signed to his cousin to follow him, and a few moments later they were both in the drive.
"Don't speak," he said quietly. "I don't want to run the slightest risk of him hearing your voice. You may come in very useful later, my lad."
They walked a hundred yards in silence, and then Percy exploded.
"Good Lord! man," he said, "you can't mean to join forces with that little reptile?"
"Just as much," grinned Jim, "as he means to join forces with me. A thoroughly dangerous man, Percy, but unless I'm much mistaken, we've got five to four the better of him. In fact we've done a damned good evening's work."
"He bluffed you good and hearty over the police," said the other.
"Did he? I wonder. A lot that he said was perfectly true. They'd have asked me some very awkward questions."
"Yes, but dash it all, old boy, it's a bit tough on the wretched blighter who was shot. I'd like to see somebody get it in the neck over that."
"You can take it from me, Percy, that someone is going to get it in the neck before I've done with them. There's a good deal I haven't told you as yet: I wanted confirmation before I passed it on. To-night I've got it."
"Confirmation of what?" demanded the other.
"The fact that there was more in the whole thing than met the eye."
"You mean that last night's shooting was not a mere gambling quarrel."
"Possibly. But a better way of putting it would be that the man who was shot did not go there primarily to gamble. He went in connection with the scheme our friend suggested I should come in on."
"I wonder who the poor devil was. A pity you don't know."
"I do," remarked Jim. "And that, my lad, is where we've got five to four the better of him. He was Miss Draycott's brother."
"Rot," said the other incredulously, stopping dead in his tracks. "How on earth do you know?"
"The likeness of two peas to one another could not be greater," said Jim. "He only landed from South America yesterday—at least that is when the mail boat berthed—and what his movements were after that until he found himself in that gambling den I can't tell you. Who it was who persuaded him to go there I don't know. It may have been the dago who finally shot him: it may have been Barnet. The point is immaterial, anyway. What is important is that he had in his possession information which he believed to be of value. And what that little swine was trying to puzzle out to-night was whether I knew that fact or not. So finally he fenced. He alluded to a scheme, but said no word of what it was."
"Have you any idea?"
"I have a very shrewd idea. And I have a further shrewd idea, Percy, that there's going to be a lot of fun in the near future for both of us—that is, if you care to come in."
"You bet I will. I rather enjoy this sort of thing. But isn't it a bit rough on the girl, old lad—little Judy."
"I know what you mean," said Jim. "But I acted with my eyes open. Telling her won't bring him back to life, and would inevitably have brought the police in. It might have resulted in the dago swinging, but I doubt it. So in the fullness of time we will take the law into our own hands and shoot him. But not yet."
"Easy over the bricks," cried his cousin. "In my case the condemned man would not eat a hearty breakfast."
"We won't do it here, Percy. I think we shall be going to South America shortly, and it is easy out there."
"South America! What the devil are we going there for?"
"Sea trip with a nice breath of ozone. And in the meantime just remember two things. First we have not been to Hampstead to-night: second and by far the more important, Miss Draycott and I have never met. A still tongue, Percy, and a sharp eye, and you'll be quite a credit to the family before I've done with you."
They drew up at the door of the Dorchester, and Jim got out.
"Night night, old lad. I'll put you wise to everything before long."
CHAPTER V
IT was with real curiosity he awaited the arrival of his letters the next morning. What was this strange document the dead man had sent to his sister? Was the whole thing a mare's nest, or could it be possible that by some strange fluke he had stumbled on something genuine?
He recognised the writing at once, and sitting down in a deserted corner of the smoking-room he opened the envelope. There was a short covering note that he glanced at first.
"Dear Mr. Maitland"—it ran:
I enclose the map. Am expecting you about twelve.
Yours sincerely,
Judy Draycott."
Then he turned his attention to the enclosure. It was as she had said a map, or rather half a map. Evidently the original had been cut in two, and the murdered man's idea was obvious. He had kept one half himself: the other he had sent to his sister.
The drawing was crude: the writing illiterate—just what might have been expected from an uneducated sailor.
It was clearly meant to represent part of an island: the word CLIFFS proved that. HILL was clear, but what A was struck him as doubtful: possibly a tree. CKS and OMP he gave up. The writing at the bottom was no assistance either. Presumably the first word was FROM, in which case the first line read—FROM THE HILL A LINE SOUTH.
He took out his pocket-book and studied the scrap of paper he had found the night before. From its shape and the position of the letters, it must be the bottom left-hand corner on the other half, and it seemed to him that WE might be the first half of west, so that he got—FROM THE HILL A LINE SOUTH WEST. RER LURKS AND TRESUR RICH was meaningless without the context. In fact the whole thing was useless without the other half. Whether it would prove of any value even with the other half was neither here nor there: without putting the two together no one could get any further.
He leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette: the main points of the situation were clear. Dresler and his friends had one half—save for the torn-off scrap in the corner: he had the other. But while he knew they had it, they were not in the same position over him. Which was where, as he had said to his cousin, he was five to four the better of them.
That they had intended to kill young Draycott he did not believe for a moment: if they wanted him out of the way it could be done more easily and far more safely by methods other than shooting him in a house in London. But it happened and they had had to make the best of it. They had acted promptly and cleverly: but for the amazing freak of fate which had caused him to meet Judy Draycott just before he heard the shot he would actually have been in the position in which they thought he was—an accidental passer-by who had heard a shot. And had it not been for the fact that the Dago apparently knew his reputation, much of last night's conversation would not have taken place. Dresler feared him because his name was Jim Maitland, with a reputation for looking for trouble, and not because he knew anything of this particular affair.
A new