The Secret of Chimneys (Superintendent Battle 1)

“I see,” she said. “Thank you.”

Until that minute she had refused to believe.

And now?—

Sitting down before her dressing table in her own room, she faced the question squarely. Every word that Anthony had said came back to her fraught with a new significance.

Was this the “trade” that he had spoken of?

The trade that he had given up. But then—

An unusual sound disturbed the even tenor of her meditations. She lifted her head with a start. Her little gold clock showed the hour to be after one. Nearly two hours she had sat here thinking.

Again the sound was repeated. A sharp tap on the windowpane. Virginia went to the window and opened it. Below on the pathway was a tall figure which even as she looked stooped for another handful of gravel.

For a moment Virginia’s heart beat faster—then she recognized the massive strength and square-cut outline of the Herzoslovakian, Boris.

“Yes,” she said in a low voice. “What is it?”

At the moment it did not strike her as strange that Boris should be throwing gravel at her window at this hour of the night.

“What is it?” she repeated impatiently.

“I come from the master,” said Boris in a low tone which nevertheless carried perfectly. “He has sent for you.”

He made the statement in a perfectly matter-of-fact tone.

“Sent for me?”

“Yes, I am to bring you to him. There is a note. I will throw it up to you.”

Viriginia stood back a little, and a slip of paper, weighted with a stone, fell accurately at her feet. She unfolded it and read:

My dear (Anthony had written)—I’m in a tight place, but I mean to win through. Will you trust me and come to me?

For quite two minutes Virginia stood there, immovable, reading those few words over and over again.

She raised her head, looking round the well-appointed luxury of the bedroom as though she saw it with new eyes.

Then she leaned out of the window again.

“What am I to do?” she asked.

“The detectives are the other side of the house, outside the Council Chamber. Come down and out through the side door. I will be there. I have a car waiting outside in the road.”

Virginia nodded. Quickly she changed her dress for one of fawn tricot, and pulled on a little fawn leather hat.

Then, smiling a little, she wrote a short note, addressed it to Bundle and pinned it to the pincushion.

She stole quietly downstairs and undid the bolts of the side door. Just a moment she paused, then, with a little gallant toss of the head, the same toss of the head with which her ancestors had gone into action in the Crusades, she passed through.

Twenty-six

THE 13TH OF OCTOBER

At ten o’clock on the morning of Wednesday, the 13th of October, Anthony Cade walked into Harridge’s Hotel and asked for Baron Lolopretjzyl who was occupying a suite there.

After suitable and imposing delay, Anthony was taken to the suite in question. The Baron was standing on the hearthrug in a correct and stiff fashion. Little Captain Andrassy, equally correct as to demeanour, but with a slightly hostile attitude, was also present.

The usual bows, clicking of heels, and other formal greetings of etiquette took place. Anthony was, by now, thoroughly conversant with the routine.

“You will forgive this early call I trust, Baron,” he said cheerfully, laying down his hat and stick on the table. “As a matter of fact, I have a little business proposition to make to you.”

“Ha! Is that so?” said the Baron.

Captain Andrassy, who had never overcome his initial distrust of Anthony, looked suspicious.

“Business,” said Anthony, “is based on the well-known principle of supply and demand. You want something, the other man has it. The only thing left to settle is the price.”

The Baron looked at him attentively, but said nothing.

“Between a Herzoslovakian nobleman and an English gentleman the terms should be easily arranged,” said Anthony rapidly.

He blushed a little as he said it. Such words do not rise easily to an Englishman’s lips, but he had observed on previous occasions the enormous effect of such phraseology upon the Baron’s mentality. True enough, the charm worked.

“That is so,” said the Baron approvingly, nodding his head. “That is entirely so.”

Even Captain Andrassy appeared to unbend a little, and nodded his head also.

“Very good,” said Anthony. “I won’t beat about the bush any more—”

“What is that, you say?” interrupted the Baron. “To beat about the bush? I do not comprehend?”

“A mere figure of speech, Baron. To speak in plain English, you want the goods, we have them! The ship is all very well, but it lacks a figurehead. By the ship, I mean the Loyalist party of Herzoslovakia. At the present minute you lack the principal plank of your political programme. You are minus a prince! Now supposing—only supposing, that I could supply you with a prince?”

The baron stared.

“I do not comprehend you in the least,” he declared.

“Sir,” said Captain Andrassy, twirling his moustache fiercely, “you are insulting!”

“Not at all,” said Anthony. “I’m trying to be helpful. Supply and demand, you understand. It’s all perfectly fair and square. No princes supplied unless genuine—see trademark. If we come to terms, you’ll find it’s quite all right. I’m offering you the real genuine article—out of the bottom drawer.”

“Not in the least,” the Baron declared again, “do I comprehend you.”

“It doesn’t really matter,” said Anthony kindly. “I just want you to get used to the idea. To put it vulgarly, I’ve got something up my sleeve. Just get hold of this. You want a prince. Under certain conditions, I will undertake to supply you with one.”

The Baron and Andrassy stared at him. Anthony took up his hat and stick again and prepared to depart.

“Just think it

over. Now, Baron, there is one thing further. You must come down to Chimneys this evening—Captain Andrassy also. Several very curious things are likely to happen there. Shall we make an appointment? Say in the Council Chamber at nine o’clock? Thank you, gentlemen, I may rely upon you to be there?”

The Baron took a step forward and looked searchingly in Anthony’s face.

“Mr. Cade,” he said, not without dignity, “it is not, I hope, that you wish to make fun of me?”

Anthony returned his gaze steadily.

“Baron,” he said, and there was a curious note in his voice, “when this evening is over, I think you will be the first to admit that there is more earnest than jest about this business.”

Bowing to both men, he left the room.

His next call was in the City where he sent in his card to Mr. Herman Isaacstein.

After some delay, Anthony was received by a pale and exquisitely dressed underling with an engaging manner, and a military title.

“You wanted to see Mr. Isaacstein, didn’t you?” said the young man. “I’m afraid he’s most awfully busy this morning—board meetings and all that sort of thing, you know. Is it anything that I can do?”

“I must see him personally,” said Anthony, and added carelessly, “I’ve just come up from Chimneys.”

The young man was slightly staggered by the mention of Chimneys.

“Oh!” he said doubtfully. “Well, I’ll see.”

“Tell him it’s important,” said Anthony.

“Message from Lord Caterham?” suggested the young man.

“Something of the kind,” said Anthony, “but it’s imperative that I should see Mr. Isaacstein at once.”

Two minutes later Anthony was conducted into a sumptuous inner sanctum where he was principally impressed by the immense size and roomy depths of the leather-covered armchairs.

Mr. Isaacstein rose to greet him.

“You must forgive my looking you up like this,” said Anthony. “I know that you’re a busy man, and I’m not going to waste more of your time than I can help. It’s just a little matter of business that I want to put before you.”