Complete works of peter.., p.460
Complete Works of Peter Cheyney. Illustrated, page 460
By the flickering light of the candle, which had burned low and was throwing grotesque shadows over the walls and ceiling of the vault, I saw that his face was grave.
"You've got to be careful, Relph," he said, "dammed careful. It must strike you as being fairly obvious that the force which killed Salvatori, Zweitt, and Jaffray isn't going to stop at another one or ten murders in order to free itself from any young gentlemen who may be making, shall we say, unnecessary and impertinent inquiries."
"You believe that Zweitt is dead, then?" I asked.
"What else is there to believe?" he said. "It seems to me that Salvatori had something on his mind—something that he wanted to cough up to you. He seemed pretty certain that Zweitt wasn't going to turn up on that night, and he also seemed fairly certain that he could trust you. Also he was desperate. Doesn't it strike you as highly probable that Zweitt had seen Salvatori, had told him that he was going to meet you and let you into the secret that they both shared, and it was this fact, the fact that Salvatori knew that Zweitt was going to split, and that the other people knew it, which made him so certain that Zweitt would not come."
"Look here," I said. "How do you know, all this?"
"I know a lot of things," he replied grimly. "And I'm going to know a lot more before I'm through."
"Well, if you know such a lot, perhaps you'll be good enough to tell me why you found it necessary to chloroform me," I asked with an attempt at a cynical smile.
CHAPTER XI
"Well now, doesn't it stand to reason?" he said, with a smile. "I find you wandering about the place in the middle of the night with a flash-lamp and a revolver. One of two things is entirely obvious; either your are looking for someone to shoot, or for someone you think may shoot you. When I saw you examining the end vault and the passage I came to the conclusion that you didn't know very much about this place, and that you were investigating—you were getting warm, as the children say, when you endeavoured to prise away those loose bricks in the wall at the end of the passage. Incidentally, if you had succeeded in getting through the wall I don't think you would have got off so lightly. It wouldn't have been a mild dose of chloroform, but a dose of something else—probably lead! Also, you might have spoiled one or two little ideas which I have in mind. You've got to do as I tell you, and you mustn't be surprised at the manner in which you receive your instructions. Somebody's got to get these people, otherwise there will be some more of us following in the footsteps of the unfortunate Messrs. Salvatori, Jaffray and Co., so I suggest that the first thing for you to do is to stop wandering about these vaults with flash-lamps and revolvers. There are just as important things to be done elsewhere."
"Such as?" I queried.
"Such as keeping your eye on Mr. Brandon upstairs," said the Onlooker. "I'm very interested in Mr. Brandon, and I think that with a little care he will more than repay watching. Also," he went on, "be careful what you say to Jevons. Don't put any obstacles in his way, but at the same time don't tell him too much. By the way, do you know if he's on any particular line at the moment?"
"Yes, I do," I said. "He's trying to find the Chinaman, and he knows that the letter was typed on the machine upstairs. You did that, of course."
"I surely did," he answered. "Do you want to know the reason? It was just this. I wanted to get Jevons away from this place. He worries me. Things are going on here fairly good and thick, aren't they? Look at to-night. First of all, there's you hiding round corners and dashing around the place with a pot of paste, putting seals on doors and things, then there's our Chinese friend with his particular load of mischief...."
"You know about that!" I exclaimed. "You saw the Chinaman? Where did he go to?"
"We won't worry about that for the moment," answered the Onlooker. "As we say in America, just at present he don't signify."
"But it was the same one," I said. "The Chinaman I saw to-night was the same fellow who came round asking for Zweitt."
"Not on your life," said the Onlooker. "You know most Chinamen look alike to Europeans, an' I'm prepared to lay a shade of odds that it wasn't the same man. Not that it matters very much. You see, we're in the dark about lots of things. We're looking for people and we don't quite know who or what we're looking for; we've just got odd ideas. When the time comes for us to stir up trouble we've got to be in a position to stir it up with all the trump cards up our sleeves. We've got to. Another thing—" the Onlooker looked straight at me, and I could feel his eyes, like diamond points, boring right into me—"we've got to forget some things, too," he added.
"Forget things?" I queried. "What things?"
He glanced round. Then he got up from the packing case and walked over to where I sat, and, sitting on his haunches, spoke quietly.
"Remember when you were sitting with Salvatori, and he was telling you his story," he said. "Right. What happened? Salvatori looked at the clock an' told you to go off and come back at ten o'clock. When you had left the shop you walked off down Angel Alley, but you looked back an' you saw somebody going into Salvatori's shop—"
"I saw a woman," I said. "She was wearing—"
"Never mind what she was wearing. That don't signify, see? An' you didn't see anybody. Understand? You didn't see anybody go into Salvatori's shop after you left it at ten past nine. If Jaffray knows it doesn't matter. He's dead."
"Jaffray didn't know. I didn't tell him," I said.
The Onlooker looked up quickly.
"Why not?" he asked quietly.
"I don't know—and that's the truth," I answered. "It probably sounds silly, but something stopped me. I don't know why."
He smiled—I think his was the most charming smile I have ever seen in my life.
"Good boy," he said. "There's a lot of things we do, or don't do, for no reason at all, an' sometimes they're good things. If Jaffray didn't know, then he couldn't have told anyone else, and that leaves only you and me, and we're both going to forget it right here and now."
He rose to his feet and stretched. Then he took out his cigarette case and extracted three cigarettes, which he held towards me.
"You're looking all right now," he said. "And I'm off. These cigarettes will see you home. Light one now and don't leave here now until you've smoked it to the end, and don't go mucking about in the end vault. When the cigarette is finished go up the stairs—you'll find the doors open at the top. Close them after you and shut the padlocks. You don't need a key—they're self-locking. An' I'd walk home if I were you. It'll clear your head. So long! Till next time."
I SAT there in the still darkness puffing at the cigarette. For some reason this man—this Onlooker—filled me with a strange confidence, almost a faith. I felt better about things because I felt that he was on our side.
When the cigarette-end burned my lips I made my way up the stairs. In a few minutes I was walking westward. It was a fine night, and I allowed my mind to wander over the business from the beginning. One face stood out from the little motley crowd of Zweitt, Salvatori, Brandon, and Jaffray—the face of the woman in the velvet cloak—the woman whom, something told me, I must help to protect.
CHAPTER XII
CONWAY was away on a serious case, and I was breakfasting alone next morning when Jevons appeared. He sat down at the table and accepted my invitation to drink a cup of coffee. I maintained a discreet silence, for I could tell by the expression of importance on the inspector's face that he had something to say. Eventually he said it.
"We're getting on, Mr. Relph—getting on," he said, emitting a cloud of smoke from a stubby briar pipe. "I've got something at last—something tangible."
"You've found the Chinaman?" I asked.
"Well, not exactly," said Jevons. "But I'm on the way. Stevens got a line on him last night. Ran into him by accident down at the bottom of Cannon Street. Stevens was off duty, but that didn't stop him going after the Chinaman. Stevens has been feeling pretty sore with that bunch since they doped him round at Poland Street."
The inspector grinned. "Anyhow, Stevens went after him as far as the beginning of Limehouse Causeway and lost him there. But that doesn't matter. He was evidently going home—and after all it's no difficult job to comb Limehouse. We shall find that Chink all right," said Jevons, relighting his pipe.
"My theory is this," he continued. "This fellow, together with Salvatori, and possibly this man who calls himself the Onlooker, were a bunch of crooks, and I've got an idea of the form their crookedness took. They used the offices in Brennan's Buildings as a sort of headquarters after closing hours, and without the knowledge of Brandon. It seems to me that there was a quarrel or something like that between Salvatori and Zweitt, or Salvatori, Zweitt, and this Onlooker. Possibly Salvatori threatened Zweitt, and this Onlooker chap sees an opportunity of getting rid of the pair of them, and sends the Chinaman round to Poland Street asking Zweitt to meet him somewhere. Zweitt keeps the appointment, and is put out of the way. Then this Onlooker, knowing that Salvatori will be waiting for Zweitt, goes round to Angel Alley and finishes Salvatori off, too, knowing that suspicion will probably fall on Zweitt, who will be believed to have escaped after murdering Salvatori. That's the reason I'm after the Chinaman."
"How does the Chinaman come into the story?" I asked.
"That's easily explained," said Jevons. "They were running dope. There's a lot of stuff placed down in Limehouse, and I expect that Chink was an agent of theirs. When I've got this Chinaman I ought to get sufficient information out of him to get my hands on this Onlooker chap."
"And do you think that they are still using Brandon's office as headquarters?" I asked.
"Naturally, they're not," said Jevons. "Salvatori and Zweitt are out of it, and this Onlooker and any other people connected with the gang will lie low for a bit and keep out of the way."
The inspector knocked the ashes from his pipe and got up.
"I must be off," he said. "I don't think there's anything you can do for us at the moment; and I've got an idea at the back of my head that we shan't be very long now before we've got something definite."
He nodded cheerily and went off. He seemed to be perfectly happy about the situation, and, although I placed little credence in his theory of the murder, I wondered whether I had trusted the Onlooker too much before knowing more of the motive which connected him with the tragedy. However, I realised that I could go on wondering for ever, and also that I had a job to do, so I finished my breakfast, and, seizing my hat, hurried off to Cannon Street.
AS I sat working steadily at the pile of invoices before me. I wondered if, after all, there might not be some grain of truth in Inspector Jevons's theory.
I had no actual reason for believing the Onlooker to be honest, and I realised that he had never really explained why it was necessary for him to chloroform me. Certainly he had suggested that it would be dangerous for me to have removed the loose bricks and discovered what was on the other side of the wall, but, once again, I had only his word for that!
At the same time he had certainly impressed me with a desire to believe in him, and it seemed to me that I had no option but to go on believing in him until something occurred to make me change my opinion.
Presently the bell in Brandon's room sounded, and I went in. He was sitting at his desk with a pile of papers before him, and as he fixed his blue eyes intently on my face I realised how hard they were, although his lips were smiling.
"And how are you getting on, Mr. Relph," he inquired pleasantly. '"Are you shaking down all right?"
"I'm doing invoices at the moment," I said. "You see, Mr. Brandon, Zweitt had not much opportunity to tell me much about the business."
He rubbed his chin with a bony hand.
"Quite, Mr. Relph," he said. "And now you will have to get along on your own, won't you?"
"So you think Zweitt is dead?" I asked.
He looked up quickly.
"Well, the police evidently think so, don't they?" he said abruptly. He handed me a bundle of papers.
"Perhaps you will be good enough to make copies of these in duplicate," he said. "I shall be back in twenty minutes. I'm going to check stock in the vault."
Brandon had not been gone two minutes before the telephone rang. I took off the receiver and heard the unmistakably jubilant voice of Jevons.
"That you, Mr. Relph?" he said "You'll be glad to know that we've found the Chink. Pretty quick work, what? Stevens ran him to earth this morning, down at some Chinese café joint in Limehouse. I thought that bird lived down there somewhere."
"What are you going to do—arrest him?" I asked.
"Not on your life," replied Jevons "We've got no direct evidence to connect him with the murder, and if we make a mistake we may show our hand. No, I'm going to raid the joint where he works, where we shall probably come across some more evidence. The local police have an idea that the café is running dope, so we've got a ready-made excuse. By the way, I want you to be present at this raid, so that you can identify him as corroborative witness with Stevens in case we come across something that enables me to arrest him on an actual charge. Good-bye, Mr. Relph, I'll let you know full details later."
He rang off. Suddenly it flashed through my mind that Jevons was doing exactly what the Onlooker wanted him to do—going after the elusive Chinaman! I wondered if it was a false scent and if the Onlooker was deliberately distracting the attention of the stolid inspector from the real criminals in the case.
I left my desk and went to the window and opened it. Although the other office window was open there was a peculiar, stale smell about the place. I looked about the outer office for a possible cause, but found nothing. I was still considering the matter when Brandon returned.
After he had closed the outer door behind him he stood for a moment, sniffing.
"There's a peculiar smell in the office this morning, isn't there?" he said, and without waiting for an answer went into his room.
Left alone in the outer office, I sat at my desk trying to puzzle out where I had encountered the strange and offensive odour before. It seemed, in some peculiar way familiar to me, and there was not the slightest doubt that it was growing unmistakably stronger. However, after a minute or two the fresh air blowing in at the now fully opened windows seemed to improve matters and I went on with my work until Brandon put his head round the door and told me to go to lunch.
The sun was shining brightly in Cannon Street, and, for no reason at all, I felt very much more cheery about things. Suddenly, as I walked along the street, I became aware that an old man was walking by my side. I was getting so used to surprises that I was not particularly astonished when I felt a square of paper slipped into my hand. The old man disappeared without a word. I opened the paper and read:
"The Crown, Cannon Court. Immediately. Onlooker."
I FOUND the Onlooker seated at a table close to the entrance door of the Crown Inn. He indicated the chair opposite, and I sat down. He was immaculately dressed, and his cheery countenance and blue eyes, which gave no indication of his connection with a mystery, and which twinkled humorously behind the tortoiseshell glasses, seemed to match the sunlight outside.
A waiter approached and I gave my order. When the man had gone the Onlooker leaned across the table and spoke quietly.
"Say, John Relph," he said, "I haven't got a lot of time to waste at the moment, and I'm due to be away from here in a few minutes, so we've got to get busy. I guess you'll be hearing something about a raid in a minute—a raid down in Chinatown."
"I've heard about one already," I said. I told him briefly of Jevons's telephone message.
"But how did you know about it?" I asked.
He grinned. "I guess it's my particular job, at the moment, to know things," he said. "Incidentally, it was a guess. You see, it's been pretty obvious to me that this man of Jevons's—what's his name—Stevens, has been chasing some Chink around, and I hear he's run our Oriental friend to earth down at a Chinatown joint. Now it stands to reason that Jevons is going to take you along on this job in order that you may identify the Chink (if they get him) as the man who brought that letter along to Poland Street for Zweitt. Well, that's just what you're not going to do. See?"
He regarded me quizzically. "You needn't look so funny about it," he continued. "You can take it from me that this particular Chink had nothing to do with either of the murders, an' if you don't like to take my word for it you needn't. But I'm telling you that you'll be sorry if you identify that man. You'll be spoiling our game."
"Look here," I said. "If you know where the Chinaman is, and if you know that Jevons is going to raid the place, why don't you warn him to make a get-away before Jevons and his raiding-party arrive?"
"There wouldn't be any sense in that, Relph," he said. "I don't want the Chink to make a get-away. I want him just where he is. If you're going to identify the man you'd better say so straight away, and I'll make other arrangements, amongst which will be the strict exclusion of yourself from any move in this business in the future. And here's another thing. If you do as I ask you'll be taking a pretty big step in stopping the next murder on the list. See?"
I gazed at him, astonished.
"The next murder," I exclaimed. "Do you mean to tell me there's going to be another...."
"There's going to be a bunch more if you don't watch your step and do as I tell you," he said. "Well, what's it to be?"
I considered for a moment. Then, "All right. I'll do it," I said.
"Good boy," said the Onlooker, with a smile, rising. "You'll probably have an interesting time to-night. Jevons isn't going to take any chances about his birds flying away. An', if they round up the particular Chink that we've been talking about, well, you just don't know him. So long."
He paid his bill at the cash desk, and disappeared. I ate my lunch without tasting the food. One thing was certain, and that was that the Onlooker knew every move in the game, and that he had some definite plan of campaign mapped out. His remark about 'the next murder on the list' sent a particularly nasty feeling down my spine. I'd seen quite enough of blood to last me for the rest of my life.
