Complete works of peter.., p.496
Complete Works of Peter Cheyney. Illustrated, page 496
Crouching by the table, Etienne saw the men at the window through which they thought he had made his escape. Lucas, drawing an automatic pistol, fired into the darkness, and with an oath, sprang through the window. Etienne moved quietly in the darkness to the side of the table, and found the girl's hand. Then softly he drew her to the door, and pulling her after him, quietly mounted the stairs to the first floor. Suan Chi Leaf and the other man concentrated on the window and the search of Lucas, and noticed nothing. They stood silently in the dark room on the first floor. Presently Lucas returned, followed by three other men, and the sound of angry quarrelling came up from the room below.
"Now, Miss Rose Petal," said Etienne. "We've got to make a getaway. They are firmly convinced that we have escaped, so all we have to do is to keep quiet."
"We shall never escape," said the girl. "They would hear us as we go down the stairs..."
"Exactly," murmured Etienne. "That is why I prefer the roof!" He pressed her hand.
"Wait until I come back," he said. "I shan't be a minute."
The drunken gentleman was still wheezing his song on the floor above, as Etienne crept up the stairs in search of a trap-door leading to the roof. He found it, returned to the girl, and after the nerve-racking ordeal of climbing the ladder and getting through the trap, they commenced their walk along the roofs of Grifton-street. It seemed hours before they stood on the roof of the end house in Grifton-street, and watched the lights of Poplar High-street as they twinkled reassuringly.
Julia Rose Petal, with a little gasp of relief sank down on the coping which ran along the edge of the roof. Etienne stood looking back towards Lucas's house.
"Now I wonder whether I ought to put you in a taxi and go back and call on Lucas," he said. "There's a fire escape running down from this roof to the ground. We can get down quite easily."
She smiled. "You wouldn't get the locket, even if you went back," she said. "Suan thought of a very good hiding place. Besides," she added softly. "You've got it!"
MacGregor paused in the act of lighting a cigarette. "Got it? What do you mean?" he asked. And then the light from his match fell upon Julia Rose Petal, and round her neck, on a thin chain Etienne saw the locket—and knew that the eleventh question was answered.
XII. — THE SLIDING SCALE
As published in The Age . Melbourne, Australia, 30 June 1928
AN east wind blowing with all the ferocity of a small hurricane had but little effect upon the good spirits of Mr. Etienne MacGregor as, battling against the gale, he made his way back to his Mortimer-street rooms.
The twelfth question was answered! Strangely enough, Etienne had imagined that he was to have more difficulty over this question than he had experienced with any of the previous eleven. But his amazing luck had held, and, securely locked away in his desk in Mortimer-street, was the little ivory figure which marked one more success.
His late uncle's lawyers had asked him to discover and produce within the usual seven days the missing figure from a set of six ivory Hindu figures. They had been enabled to give him a slight clue, and after five days of searching, newspaper advertisements, and the employment of Fletter's Detective Agency, the figure had been discovered in a secondhand curio-shop, the proprietor of which had been only too glad to sell.
MacGregor's usual smile was, if anything, happier than usual as, with the vision of his cosy arm-chair before him, he fitted his latchkey into the front door and entered the house. His rooms were on the first floor, and he mounted the stairs quickly, pulling off his gloves as he did so. He opened his sitting-room door, switched on the light, and then stood amazed, the smile slowly fading from his face.
The room was in a state of chaos. The furniture was tumbled all over the place; the writing-desk, pulled out from its usual corner, stood in the middle of the room, its drawers forced open and flung in a heap beside it. The window looking out on to Mortimer-street was open, and the gale was blowing the heavy casement cloth curtains backwards and forwards. It was characteristic of Etienne MacGregor that, having noted the state of the room, he promptly pulled out his pipe, lit it, and throwing his hat into a corner sat down and proceeded to think things out.
It was not necessary for him to seek the cause of the disorder of the room, or to even examine the desk. The place had been ransacked during his absence, and the search had been successful. The ivory figure had gone. Suan Chi Leaf had, for once, scored!
Etienne realised that he had counted his chickens before they were hatched. Foolishly enough, he had considered that the precious figure, the answer to the twelfth question, would be safe enough locked away in his desk for a few hours. Etienne could have kicked himself with annoyance. He might have known that Suan, knowing that only two questions remained to be answered before MacGregor was entitled to claim the money under his uncle's will, would stop at nothing—certainly not burglary!
He got up and made a minute examination of the room, looking in every corner, searching every bit of the place in an endeavour to discover some clue. That the entrance had been made through the window was obvious. Even at this early hour of the night—it was just after nine o'clock—Mortimer-street was dark and deserted, and the heavy east wind had kept such mortals as might have been out by their firesides. The house was an old one, and the architecture provided ample footholds for a nimble climber to ascend to the first floor window which, secured only by an old-fashioned catch, would present no difficulty to a steel jemmy, which had obviously been used.
As MacGregor stood by the window the wind blew the curtains inward once more, and his eye lighted on a small, dark object on the floor. He picked it up, and taking it under the light, examined it. It was a small leather wallet, such as is used for holding season-tickets. One corner was torn, and by the light appearance of the torn part, had recently been caught by some projection. Inside, in the small compartment for stamps, was a three-halfpenny stamp, and sticking out of the larger pocket was a piece of torn letter-paper. Etienne took out the piece of paper. It was apparently the corner of a letter which had been torn simultaneously with the case. There were a few words on it, written in a clear and concise hand, which said—"at Galliford's Scale, near Chertsey, at 12 o'clock."
Etienne walked over to the window once more, and carefully examined the catch of the double windows, which had been wrenched open by the thin end of a jemmy being inserted and worked backwards and forwards. It became plain immediately to him what had happened. The thief, in making his exit from the window, had, in his desire not to attract any attention from the street below, inserted himself carefully between the two sides of the window. The torn window catch had somehow got inserted inside the coat of the thief, and had become attached to the leathern wallet. Then, as the marauder had lowered himself over the window ledge the leather case had been drawn from his pocket, the letter torn, and the case projected into the room.
Etienne sat down once more and studied the few words on the paper. "At Galliford's Scale, near Chertsey, at 12 o'clock."
Were these words part of the thief's instructions from Suan Chi Leaf? Was this the appointment at which the ivory figure was to be handed over to the Chinaman? Etienne thought that this might very easily be the case, and in any event it seemed to him that if this surmise were correct he must find out where and what "Galliford's Scale" was, and take immediate steps to endeavour to regain possession of the ivory figure.
He looked at his watch. It was fifteen minutes past nine. The appointment, apparently, was for twelve o'clock, so he had ample time to arrive at Chertsey before the thief turned up to hand over his booty. He knocked out his pipe and going downstairs to the basement interviewed Mrs. Hands, the housekeeper. In response to his questions, she informed him that no one had been to see him during his absence.
It was obvious to Etienne that the marauder who had secured the ivory figure had done his work silently and well, and that no one else in the house had any inkling of what had happened. He returned to the ground floor, and, as he was about to ascend the stairs to his own rooms glanced casually at the letter-box. There was a letter in it. He took the letter out. It was addressed to himself. Tearing it open he read:—
Dear Sir,—
With reference to the ivory figure which we sold to you yesterday, we regret to inform you that this figure is not, as we thought, the figure which originally belonged to the Hindu set possessed by your uncle. Apparently it is an imitation, as we have today discovered, quite by chance, that the original figure is in the possession of a Mr. Suan Chi Leaf, who, on our request informed us that he would not part with it under any circumstances....
Etienne read no more, but his usual grin reappeared as he slowly mounted the stairs, the curio dealer's letter in his hand. An interesting situation, he thought. Suan Chi Leaf, possessing the original figure, had taken the trouble to steal what he knew to be an imitation, in order that Etienne, on finding the torn wallet and scrap of paper would walk into a trap carefully set for him at "Galliford's Scale." A very neat idea.
He refilled his pipe and considered the situation.
Suan Chi Leaf unaware of MacGregor's luck in receiving the curio dealers' letter, would expect Etienne in the region of twelve o'clock—the time mentioned on the scrap of paper. Etienne, glancing at his watch, saw that it was now half-past nine. He could get to Chertsey in three-quarters of an hour—nearly two hours before he was expected, and, he hoped once there, might find some method of outwitting the wily Chinaman.
One thing was obvious to MacGregor. Suan Chi Leaf meant business. Although the real ivory figure was in his possession, he was plotting to trap Etienne—what for? There was but one explanation. Suan Chi Leaf, realising his rival's amazing success in finding the solutions to the previous questions, was intending to take no chances with the last two. MacGregor was to be put out of the way. Suan's trump card was murder.
TEN minutes later Etienne, seated at the wheel of a two-seater, which he had hired from the nearby garage, drove rapidly in the direction of Chertsey. Soon the lights of London were left behind. The gale had abated somewhat, but had given place to a sleeting rain, which stung his face. He wondered what scheme Suan Chi Leaf had evolved. That the brain of the Chinaman was of the first quality Etienne had no doubt. Some devil's work was afoot at "Galliford's Scale," wherever that was. The question of calling in police assistance had never entered MacGregor's mind, for, as on previous occasions in his duel of wits with Suan Chi Leaf and Mrs. Lotus Leaf, he had realised that they were in their own peculiar way of assistance in solving the questions for the simple reason that their efforts were always directed against him, and this very fact had often supplied a necessary clue.
It was forty minutes after he had left Mortimer-street that he pulled up outside the Crown Inn at Chertsey. He strolled into the saloon bar, and a few minutes afterwards, in course of conversation with the landlord, casually asked the necessary question.
"Did you ever hear of Galliford's Scale?" he said.
"I know the place well," replied the landlord of the Crown. "It's a big cement works about a mile down the river. They load the cement into the barges down there."
"Funny name—Galliford's Scale," mused Etienne.
"Why, no," said the other. "You see, there's a patent scale there—the Sliding Scale they call it. It measures out each barge-load of cement into a big steel box about 25 feet deep, then when they pull a lever each box-load is sent down the chute into the barge—does the work of fifty men," concluded the landlord.
Etienne finished his drink, said "Good-night," and struck off along the road by the river.
Once outside Chertsey he left the road and struck across the fields, keeping in the shadow of the hedges. In his head was an idea of what Suan Chi Leaf had planned. It was an excellent idea to dispose of a body by leaving it at the bottom of the cement scale, to be sent rolling down the chute with a few tons of cement and buried at the bottom of a barge, to be discovered weeks, possibly months, afterwards, miles away!
He paused under cover of an oak tree as Galliford's Scale came in sight. It was a ramshackle building of wood, standing on the river's edge. A solitary light in an upper window blinked through the darkness. He considered his plan of action. To approach the front entrance of the building which lay by the side of the main road would be foolish, although he was a good hour and a half before time, and he decided that his best method would be to endeavour to get into the building by the river side, where there was little chance of any watch being kept. He crept across the field.
As he approached he saw that the building ran a few feet out over the surface of the water, being supported on piles. A few feet from the ground was a rail, which evidently ran right round the building, affixed to the wall. He swung on to it and commenced to work his way, hand over hand round to the river side of the building. Often his feet and legs dangled in the icy water, but he kept on breathlessly, until he saw the central opening to which the cement chute led, and through which the cement was shot into the barges.
He paused at the opening, resting his feet on the edge of the chute. Looking up the incline he could see a dim light and heard the sound of murmured voices. Drawing himself onto the chute, he dropped over the side, and hanging by his hands, commenced to work his way upwards. After a few minutes he found himself stopped by the wall of what he imagined to be the cement box, which, worked by a lever, tilted the cement onto the chute. He drew himself up quietly onto the top side of the chute and lay there listening. After a moment the murmuring started again, and a light appeared.
Etienne looked up and his heart gave a leap, for standing on a small platform immediately above the cement box, accompanied by another man, who held a hurricane lamp in his hand, stood Suan Chi Leaf.
Crouched on the chute MacGregor saw the Chinaman consult his watch.
"Ten minutes to eleven," said Suan Chi Leaf softly. "I expect he will arrive in about half an hour. Stevens is watching the road, about a quarter of a mile away, and he will signal when MacGregor passes. Directly he enters the downstairs door, you, Pevis, and our caretaker friend will secure him, after which he can be laid on this platform and I shall have much pleasure in working the necessary levers. Jones," he raised his voice, "you might explain the mechanism to me once more, will you?"
A third man appeared and joined them on the platform.
"It's easy enough," he said, "when we've laid him on the platform, you simply pull that lever." He indicated a lever which stood in an engineers' gallery, just above the platform. "That shoots him into the big cement bin, just below you," he said. "After that you pull this lever, and the bin will be filled with cement—he'll have about two tons of it on top of him. Then on Monday morning, when the barges come, the bin will be emptied into the chute, and he'll go down into a barge—the chute's four feet deep so he won't be noticed," concluded the man, with a grin.
"Very satisfactory," said Suan Chi Leaf, "and that will be the end of MacGregor. He's been too lucky, and he's too near getting the money for my liking."
He produced a cigarette-case and offered it to his two companions. Etienne's brain was working quickly, and almost before the idea had completely come to him, he had proceeded to put it into execution. He dropped over the side of the chute once more, and hanging by one hand felt about on the wall of the cement bin. In a moment he had found what he sought. A small horizontal ladder, placed there for purposes of inspection, ran round the bin. He gripped this, and slowly and quietly made his way along the bin, turned the corner, and in a minute found himself practically beneath the engineers' gallery.
He raised himself slowly, and looked over the edge of the bin. Suan Chi Leaf and the two men were still standing on the platform with their backs to him. He raised himself slowly until he had one foot on the top of the bin, and then leapt for the gallery. Suan Chi Leaf and his companions spun round at the noise, but they were too late, for as they began to move Etienne reached the lever, pulled it, and the platform on which the three men were standing tilted suddenly, shooting the three conspirators into the 25-feet deep cement bin.
Etienne crawled to the ladder and looked into the bin, his usual cherubic smile illuminating his round face. Standing at the bottom, his face more evil than ever, illuminated by the light of the fallen hurricane lamp, stood Suan Chi Leaf. The two other men were rubbing their bruises and cursing.
"Well, Suan, old fellow," said Etienne, smiling happily. "It was very good of you to let me know how this sliding scale business was worked. The only thing that remains now is for me to decide whether I pull the other lever and let the cement drop on to the three of you. You're a fine trio of scoundrels I must say. However, I'm prepared to do business with you. Let me know where the ivory figure is, the real one, and I won't pull the lever. Now Suan, which is it to be?"
Suan Chi Leaf looked up, his face devilish. Then he felt in his overcoat pocket, and without a word threw up a small oblong box. Etienne caught it neatly and opened it. Inside was the ivory figure!
"Excellent," smiled MacGregor. "Now I'll be generous and spare your lives, but, this being Saturday night, and the works here closed until Monday morning, I'm going to leave you three lads at the bottom of the bin till then. You can't climb out, and it will do you good to ruminate on your sins. By the way, Suan, you'll have to be quick if you're going to stop me getting that money. Now I'll just wander down the road and put the wind up your associate, Mr. Stevens, so that there is no chance of your escaping before Monday morning, and then I'll toddle home. Oh, by the bye, being a nice sort of chap, I'll telephone here first thing on Monday morning, otherwise they might fill up the cement bin before they get you out. Good night, Suan—pleasant dreams!"
And whistling loudly, Mr. Etienne MacGregor wandered quietly off.
XIII. — CASH—PLEASE!
