The Complete Four Just Men Page 47

  ‘Dry up,’ said Black shortly. ‘You’re like a babe, Ikey. What are you worrying about? I’ve told you I’ve lost as much money as you. Now we’ve got to sit down and think out a plan for making money. What have you lost?’

  Sir Isaac shook his head weakly. ‘I don’t know,’ he said listlessly. ‘Six or seven thousand pounds. I haven’t got six or seven thousand pence,’ he added plaintively. ‘It’s a pretty bad business for me, Black. A man in my position – I shall have to sell off my horses – ’

  ‘Your position!’ Black laughed harshly. ‘My dear good chap, I shouldn’t let that worry you. Your reputation,’ he went on. ‘You’re living in a fool’s paradise, my man,’ he said with savage banter. ‘Why, you’ve no more reputation than I have. Who cares whether you pay your debts of honour or whether you don’t? It would surprise people more if you paid than if you defaulted. Get all that nonsense out of your head and think sensibly. You will make all you’ve lost and much more. You’ve got to marry – and quick, and then she’s got to inherit my lord’s money, almost as quickly.’

  Ikey looked at him in despairing amazement.

  ‘Even if she married me,’ he said pettishly, ‘I should have to wait years for the money.’

  Colonel Black smiled.

  They were moving off the course when they were overtaken by a man, who touched the baronet on the arm.

  ‘Excuse me, Sir Isaac,’ he said, and handed him an envelope.

  ‘For me?’ asked Ikey wonderingly, and opened the envelope. There was no letter – only a slip of paper and four bank-notes for a thousand pounds each. Sir Isaac gasped and read: ‘Pay your debts and live cleanly; avoid Black like the devil and work for your living.’

  The writing was disguised, but the language was obviously Lord Verlond’s.

  Chapter 13

  Who are the Four?

  Lord Verlond sat at breakfast behind an open copy of The Times. Breakfast was ever an unsociable meal at Verlond House. Lady Mary, in her neat morning dress, was content to read her letters and her papers without expecting conversation from the old man.

  He looked across at her. His face was thoughtful. In repose she had always thought it rather fine, and now his grave eyes were watching her with an expression she did not remember having seen before.

  ‘Mary,’ he asked abruptly, ‘are you prepared for a shock?’

  She smiled, though somewhat uneasily. These shocks were often literal facts. ‘I think I can survive it,’ she said.

  There was a long pause, during which his eyes did not leave her face.

  ‘Would you be startled to know that that young demon of a brother of yours is still alive?’

  ‘Alive!’ she exclaimed, starting to her feet.

  There was no need for the old man to ask exactly how she viewed the news. Her face was flushed with pleasure – joy shone in her eyes.

  ‘Oh, is it really true?’ she cried.

  ‘It’s true enough,’ said the old man moodily. ‘Very curious how things turn out. I thought the young beggar was dead, didn’t you?’

  ‘Oh, don’t talk like that, uncle, you don’t mean it.’

  ‘I mean it all right,’ snapped the earl. ‘Why shouldn’t I? He was infernally rude to me. Do you know what he called me before he left?’

  ‘But that was sixteen years ago,’ said the girl.

  ‘Sixteen grandmothers,’ said the old man. ‘It doesn’t make any difference to me if it was sixteen hundred years – he still said it. He called me a tiresome old bore – what do you think of that?’

  She laughed, and a responsive gleam came to the old man’s face.

  ‘It’s all very well for you to laugh,’ he said, ‘but it’s rather a serious business for a member of the House of Lords to be called a tiresome old bore by a youthful Etonian. Naturally, remembering his parting words and the fact that he had gone to America, added to the very important fact that I am a Churchman and a regular subscriber to Church institutions, I thought he was dead. After all, one expects some reward from an All-wise Providence.’

  ‘Where is he?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said the earl. ‘I traced him to Texas – apparently he was on a farm there until he was twenty-one. After that his movements seem to have been somewhat difficult to trace.’

  ‘Why,’ she said suddenly, pointing an accusing finger at him, ‘you’ve been trying to trace him.’

  For a fraction of a second the old man looked confused.

  ‘I’ve done nothing of the sort,’ he snarled. Do you think I’d spend my money to trace a rascal who – ’

  ‘Oh, you have,’ she went on. ‘I know you have. Why do you pretend to be such an awful old man?’

  ‘Anyway, I think he’s found out,’ he complained. ‘It takes away a great deal of the fortune which would have come to you. I don’t suppose Gresham will want you now.’

  She smiled. He rose from the table and went to the door.

  ‘Tell that infernal villain – ’

  ‘Which one?’

  ‘James,’ he replied, ‘that I’m not to be disturbed. I’m going to my study. I’m not to be disturbed by anyone for any reason; do you understand?’

  If it was a busy morning for his lordship, it was no less so for Black and his friend, for it was Monday, and settling day, and in numerous clubs in London expectant bookmakers, in whose volumes the names of Black and Sir Isaac were freely inscribed, examined their watches with feelings that bordered upon apprehension.

  But, to the surprise of everybody who knew the men, the settlements were made.

  An accession of wealth had come to the ‘firm’.

  Sir Isaac Tramber spent that afternoon pleasantly. He was raised from the depths of despair to the heights of exaltation. His debts of honour were paid; he felt it was possible for him to look the world in the face. As a taxi drove him swiftly to Black’s office, he was whistling gaily, and smiling at the politely veiled surprise of one of his suspicious bookmakers.

  The big man was not at his office, and Sir Isaac, who had taken the precaution of instructing his driver to wait, re-directed him to the Chelsea flat.

  Black was dressing for dinner when Sir Isaac arrived.

  ‘Hullo!’ he said, motioning him to a seat. ‘You’re the man I want. I’ve got a piece of information that will please you. You are the sort of chap who is scared by these Four Just Men. Well, you needn’t be any more. I’ve found out all about them. It’s cost me £200 to make the discovery, but it’s worth every penny.’

  He looked at a sheet of paper lying before him.

  ‘Here is the list of their names. A curious collection, eh? You wouldn’t suspect a Wesleyan of taking such steps as these chaps have taken. A bank manager in South London – Mr Charles Grimburd – you’ve heard of him: he’s the art connoisseur, an unexpected person, eh? And Wilkinson Despard – he’s the fellow I suspected most of all. I’ve been watching the papers very carefully. The Post Herald, the journal he writes for, has always been very well informed upon these outrages of the Four. They seem to know more about it than any other paper, and then, in addition, this man Despard has been writing pretty vigorously on social problems. He’s got a place in Jermyn Street. I put a man on to straighten his servant, who had been betting. He had lost money. My man has been at him for a couple of weeks. There they are.’ He tossed the sheet across. ‘Less awe-inspiring than when they stick to their masks and their funny titles.’

  Sir Isaac studied the list with interest.

  ‘But there are only three here,’ he said. ‘Who is the fourth?’

  ‘The fourth is the leader: can’t you guess who it is? Gresham, of course.’

  ‘Gresham?’

  ‘I haven’t any proof,’ said Black; ‘it’s only surmise. But I would stake all I have in the world that I’m right.
He is the very type of man to be in this – to organize it, to arrange the details.’

  ‘Are you sure the fourth is Gresham?’ asked Sir Isaac again.

  ‘Pretty sure,’ said Black. He had finished his dressing and was brushing his dress-coat carefully with a whisk brush.

  ‘Where are you going?’ asked Sir Isaac.

  ‘I have a little business tonight,’ replied the other. ‘I don’t think it would interest you very much.’

  He stopped his brushing. For a moment he seemed deep in thought.

  ‘On consideration,’ he said slowly, ‘perhaps it will interest you. Come along to the office with me. Have you dined?’

  ‘No, not yet.’

  ‘I’m sorry I can’t dine you,’ said Black. ‘I have an important engagement after this which is taking all my attention at present. You’re not dressed,’ he continued. ‘That’s good. We’re going to a place where people do not as a rule dress for dinner’

  Over his own evening suit he drew a long overcoat, which he buttoned to the neck. He selected a soft felt hat from the wardrobe in the room and put it on before the looking-glass.

  ‘Now, come along,’ he said.

  It was dusk, and the wind which howled through the deserted street justified the wrapping he had provided. He did not immediately call a cab, but walked until they came to Vauxhall Bridge Road. By this time Sir Isaac’s patience and powers of pedestrianism were almost exhausted.

  ‘Oh, Lord!’ he said irritably, ‘this is not the kind of job I like particularly.’

  ‘Have a little patience,’ said Black. ‘You don’t expect me to call cabs in Chelsea and give my directions for half a dozen people to hear. You don’t seem to realize, Ikey, that you and I are being very closely watched.’

  ‘Well, they could be watching us now,’ said Sir Isaac with truth.

  ‘They may be, but the chances are that nobody will be near enough when we give directions to the driver as to our exact destination.’

  Even Sir Isaac did not catch it, so low was the voice of Black instructing the driver.

  Through the little pane at the back of the cab Black scrutinized the vehicles following their route.

  ‘I don’t think there is anybody after us at present,’ he said. ‘It isn’t a very important matter, but if the information came to the Four that their plans were being checkmated it might make it rather awkward for us.’

  The cab passed down the winding road which leads from the Oval to Kennington Green. It threaded a way through the traffic and struck the Camberwell Road. Half-way down, Black put out his head, and the cab turned sharply to the left. Then he tapped at the window and it stopped.

  He got out, followed by Sir Isaac.

  ‘Just wait for me at the end of the street,’ he said to the driver.

  He handed the man some money as a guarantee of his bona fides, and the two moved off. The street was one of very poor artisan houses, and Black had recourse to an electric lamp which he carried in his pocket to discover the number he wanted. At last he came to a small house with a tiny patch of garden in front and knocked.

  A little girl opened the door.

  ‘Is Mr Farmer in?’ said Black.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said the little girl, ‘will you go up?’

  She led the way up the carpeted stairs and knocked at a small door on the left. A voice bade them come in. The two men entered. Seated by the table in a poorly-furnished room, lit only by the fire, was a man. He rose as they entered.

  ‘I must explain,’ said Black, ‘that Mr Farmer has rented this room for a couple of weeks. He only comes here occasionally to meet his friends. This,’ he went on, motioning to Sir Isaac, ‘is a great friend of mine.’

  He closed the door, and waited till the little girl’s footsteps on the stairs had died away.

  ‘The advantage of meeting in this kind of house,’ said the man called Farmer, ‘is that the slightest movement shakes the edifice from roof to basement.’

  He spoke with what might be described as a ‘mock-culture’ voice. It was the voice of a common man who had been much in the company of gentlemen, and who endeavoured to imitate their intonation without attempting to acquire their vocabulary.

  ‘You can speak freely, Mr Farmer,’ said Black. ‘This gentleman is in my confidence. We are both interested in this ridiculous organization. I understand you have now left Mr Wilkinson Despard’s employment?’

  The man nodded.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ he said, with a little embarrassed cough. ‘I left him yesterday.’

  ‘Now, have you found out who the fourth is?’

  The man hesitated.

  ‘I am not sure, sir. It is only fair to tell you that I am not absolutely certain. But I think you could gamble on the fact that the fourth gentleman is Mr Horace Gresham.’

  ‘You didn’t say that,’ said Black, ‘until I suggested the name myself.’

  The man did not flinch at the suspicion involved in the comment. His voice was even as he replied: ‘That I admit, sir. But the other three gentlemen I knew. I had nothing to do with the fourth. He used to come to Mr Despard’s late at night, and I admitted him. I never saw his face and never heard his voice. He went straight to Mr Despard’s study, and if you knew how the house was portioned out you would realize that it was next to impossible to hear anything!’

  ‘How did you come to know that these men were the Four?’ asked Black.

  ‘Well, sir,’ said the other, obviously ill at ease, ‘by the way servants generally find things out – I listened.’

  ‘And yet you never found out who the leader was?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Have you discovered anything else of which I am not aware?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said the man eagerly. I discovered before I left Mr Despard’s employ that they’ve got you set. That’s an old army term which means that they’ve marked you down for punishment.’

  ‘Oh, they have, have they?’ said Black.

  ‘I overheard that last night. You see, the meeting generally consisted of four. The fourth very seldom turned up unless there was something to do. But he was always the leading spirit. It was he who found the money when money was necessary. It was he who directed the Four to their various occupations. And it was he who invariably chose the people who had to be punished. He has chosen you, I know, sir. They had a meeting, the night before last. They were discussing various people, and I heard your name.’

  ‘How could you hear?’

  ‘I was in the next room, sir. There’s a dressing-room leading out of Mr Despard’s room, where these conferences were held. I had a duplicate key.’

  Black rose as if to go.

  ‘It almost seems a pity you have left that Johnnie. Did they ever speak about me?’ asked Sir Isaac, who had been an attentive listener.

  ‘I don’t know your name, sir,’ said the servant deferentially.

  ‘No, and you jolly well won’t,’ answered the baronet promptly.

  ‘I hope, gentlemen,’ said the man, ‘that now I have lost my employment you’ll do whatever you can to find me another place. If either of you gentlemen want a reliable man-servant – ’

  He looked inquiringly at Sir Isaac, as being the more likely of the two.

  ‘Not me,’ said the other brutally. ‘I find all my work cut out to keep my own secrets, without having any dam’ eavesdropping man on the premises to spy on me.’

  The man against whom this was directed did not seem particularly hurt by the bluntness of the other. He merely bowed his head and made no reply.

  Black took a flat case from his inside pocket, opened it and extracted two notes.

  ‘Here are twenty pounds,’ he said, ‘which makes £220 you have had from me. Now, if you can find out anything else worth knowing I don’t mind ma
king it up to £300 – but it has got to be something good. Keep in with the servants. You know the rest of them. Is there any reason why you shouldn’t go back to the flat?’

  ‘No, sir,’ said the man. ‘I was merely discharged for carelessness.’

  ‘Very good,’ said Black. ‘You know my address and where to find me. If anything turns up let me know.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘By the way,’ said Black, as he made a move to go, ‘do the Four contemplate taking any action in the immediate future?’

  ‘No, sir,’ said the man eagerly. ‘I am particularly sure of that. I heard them discussing the advisability of parting. One gentleman wanted to go to the Continent for a month, and another wanted to go to America to see about his mining property. By the way, they all agreed there was no necessity to meet for a month. I gathered that for the time being they were doing nothing.’

  ‘Excellent!’ said Black.

  He shook hands with the servant and departed.

  ‘Pretty beastly sort of man to have about the house,’ said Sir Isaac as they walked back to the cab.

  ‘Yes,’ said Black, good-humouredly, ‘but it isn’t my house, and I feel no scruples in the matter. I do not,’ he added virtuously, ‘approve of tapping servants for information about their masters and mistresses, but there are occasions when this line of conduct is perfectly justified.’

  Chapter 14

  Willie Jakobs tells

  Left alone, the man whom they had called Farmer waited a few minutes. Then he took down his coat, which hung behind the door, put on his hat and gloves deliberately and thoughtfully, and left the house. He walked in the direction which Black and Sir Isaac had taken, but their taxi-cab was flying northward long before he reached the spot where it had waited.

  He pursued his way into the Camberwell Road and boarded a tram-car. The street lamps and the lights in the shop windows revealed him to be a good-looking man, a little above the average height, with a pale refined face. He was dressed quietly, but well.