Elk 03 The Twister, page 11
He paused to take breath. Ursula had listened to the disjointed gabble, in which shrewd business was interlarded with glib sympathy, and quite understood the purport of the man’s message.
“In other words, you suggest that of the two hundred thousand shares which my father left to me, fifty thousand belong to you?”
Mr. Guelder bowed. “To my sincere regret, that is my meaning. It is deplorable, and—”
She interrupted him. “And entirely a matter for my father’s executors, is it not?” she asked.
He heaved up his shoulders deprecatingly. “For Mr. Braid. Can I deny that—no! But if I go to Mr. Braid, what follows? He sneers, he snaps his fingers, he says ‘Do your damnablest.’ There are lawyers and processes and appearances in court and exposure of certain irregularities. For example”—he ticked off the example on one large forefinger—“on the day of your father’s death he came to the goot Julian, and demanded of him the shares which he held on your behalf. Why? For his own use. Ah, do not interrupt me. Your indignation does you honour and credit, my sweet young lady, but here is the truth, not to be denied—”
“According to Julian’s own statement, those shares had been in my father’s possession for some weeks,” she said coldly; and for a second Mr. Guelder was staggered.
“You desire to cover your father, but the truth must be there. We shall see on the evening newspaper proclamations ‘Strange Accusation Against Dead Peer’. That will be unfortunate. Also at the inquest Mr. Braid swears before God that the late Frensham was not financially difficult—ah—not in financial difficulties, that is it. Was that the truth? So many things may transpire and be exposed to the low populace.”
“Mr. Guelder,” she interrupted him again, “you are taking quite a wrong view of my position in this matter, if you imagine for one moment that I intend using the slightest influence with Mr. Braid to induce him to give you fifty thousand shares. I am not competent to deal with the matter.”
“Quite right, young lady, perfectly right,” murmured a voice, and she was so startled at the sound of it that she jumped.
Neither had heard Mr. Elk’s light footstep as he crossed the lawn, nor seen his lean shadow cross the open french window. “Never give nothing away, miss, especially when you’re threatened. That’s nearly blackmail.”
Guelder was glaring at him, but it was a glare of fright rather than menace. “Mr. Elks,” he stammered, “dis is unexpectedly a pleasure.”
“Elk,” corrected the detective: “There’s only one of us, and he’s me.”
Guelder was thinking quickly. He remembered the warning that he had received from Julian Reef. He was being shadowed. And yet he had been most careful that morning. He had looked behind, he had loitered on the way, he had turned unexpectedly in search of a trailer, and there had been no sign of Elk. He was frightened, too. The laws of England were peculiarly unfair to people who deviated from the straight path of business.
“If I haf said what I should not say, most profoundly I apologize.” He made a sweeping bow to emphasize his humility.
“Most irregular and disorderly,” said Elk. He was looking at the Dutchman through half-closed eyes. “Naturally, you’re not expected to carry round a copy of Criminal Law and Procedure, but this is one of the countries where blackmail doesn’t get past. I’m interrupting you, miss?” She shook her head smilingly; and he might have read in her face the instant relief she felt in his presence.
“Then I must leave this matter where it is.” Guelder made a heroic effort to be detached and businesslike, which was not very successful. “I will make formal application for restoration of the shares—I regret if I have fallen into error.”
He clicked his heels and offered a large, damp hand, first to her and then to Elk. The detective waited until the Dutchman had disappeared from view.
Chapter 18.
“Share-pushers I know, but share-pullers are new ones on me. Not a friend of yours, miss?”
“He’s very much not a friend of mine,” said Ursula with emphasis. “I dislike him most intensely.”
“Woman’s instinct,” murmured Elk sententiously. “That’s what I always say to the chief, ‘You ought to keep a woman at the Yard, just to do a little instincting—it’d save us a lot of trouble.’ Ever been to his house, miss?”
She shook her head.
“Queer old place; like something out of Charles Dickens. He’s scientific.”
“Did you want to see me, Mr. Elk?” she asked, after a long silence.
“Well”—he hesitated—“I did and I didn’t.” He glanced round the room. “It’s a very nice house you’ve got, miss. It must be difficult, running a place like this. Can’t think what you do when you get gentlemen up to dinner. Naturally—you can’t offer ‘em a cigar—that wouldn’t be ladylike.”
She had heard quite a lot about Elk from Tony, and she laughed. “I can even offer you a cigar,” she said solemnly. She went out of the room and came back with a large box. Mr. Elk was full of self-condemnation, but he showed the greatest care in his selection.
“Fancy me saying a thing like that! I don’t know what you’ll think of me. Almost like asking, isn’t it? I’ll take two, because I’m not sure which of these is best. I wouldn’t like to take away what I might call a bad impression of your cigars. I’ve got a nasty job this morning. That’s the worst of the Yard, they won’t leave you to work out a really interesting crime, but push you off on twiddling little affairs that a flat-footed policeman could do twice as well. God forgive me for speaking disrespectfully of the uniformed branch—I was one myself.”
“What interesting crime are you on now?”
He was cutting the end of the cigar with a huge clasp-knife and he did not look up for some few seconds.
“That Guelder’s a crime in himself,” he said. “He’s an offence against the law of nature. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a worse crime than him.”
She was amused. “Are you very much concerned with Mr. Guelder?”
“In a way—only in a way, miss.”
And then he changed the subject and told her of his new case. The police had found at Plumstead, which is near Woolwich, a small detached villa, occupied by one who was apparently a middle-aged clerk and his wife, a stoutish gentleman who went into Woolwich to business every morning with great punctuality and dug up his garden on Saturday afternoon. That he did not go to church on Sunday was not counted against him, because so few people did.
“And he is nearly the biggest receiver south of the Thames—we found him by accident. They say that villa’s chock-full of property, from diamond rings to tapestries—one of the men at the Yard told me there’s nearly a quarter of a million pounds’ worth—of goods there. The chap bought everything that came to him. He’s going to be difficult to convict because he carried on a genuine business as a dealer; and he’s got a big store in Woolwich, where he bought and sold freely. They say he would buy a barge-load if it brought the right stuff. All the river hooks came to him: nothing was too big, nothing too small. I’m not really in the case,” he explained. “I’m exercising a supervision, which means I’ll get all the credit if there’s any going, and the fellow under me will get all the kicks if any are due.”
“Has it anything to do with Mr. Guelder?”
“Him? Good Lord, no!” said Elk, with a contempt he did not try to disguise. “This receiver feller is clever!”
Chapter 19.
GUELDER found a cab at the top of Hill Street, and indulged in an unusual luxury. He, was still agitated and breathless when he came to the office. Julian was out, but came in a few minutes later to find his friend in a very perturbed condition of mind.
“She would give nothing,” he said.
Julian guffawed. “Did you imagine she would, you poor simpleton? I knew that little scheme of yours was a failure before you started. I was hoping you had the brains to keep me out of it.”
“I have brains in plenty,” snarled the other. “Did you say this before I went? Did you not say that this was a good scheme? Elk was there.”
“Elk?” Julian frowned. “He trailed you?”
“Whether he trailed or whether he snailed I do not know,” said the Dutchman savagely. “He was there! He comes in at a moment when I perhaps would have convinced her. Even now that money would come if you would take action through your lawyers…”
“I don’t think it is necessary,” said Julian, to his surprise. “I’ve been having a meeting with the people I suggested we should let in on our scheme, and they will find all the money we want.” Guelder’s face brightened. “They are a little sceptical about your invention and two or three of them are coming tonight to see a demonstration. Show me that stone again.”
Guelder unlocked the safe, took out a small jeweller’s case, opened it, and placed it on the table. Inside, a small pure white diamond sent multi-coloured rays with every movement of the case.
“How long did this take?”
“Three hours,” said Guelder promptly. “In time it shall be done more quickly, but even that acceleration is quite unnecessary. It needs only, my dear Julian, the duplication of instruments, and increased power of light, an added efficiency of apparatus.”
“They’re coming in this morning to see it,” said Julian; “and if they’re satisfied, they’re beginning operations on the market this afternoon, even before they have seen the experiment with their own eyes. I have told them that you would treat an even bigger stone.”
Guelder nodded. “Exactly! Tonight I will experiment with a large cushion shape of ten carats. That indeed will be something worth seeing!”
He was curious to discover why these usually cautious City men would begin their manipulations of stock before they were convinced as to the value of his experiment.
“The market is weak, especially the diamond market,” explained Julian. “There have been a number of independent little alluvial fields opened up in Africa and the big companies are working for legislation to limit the output. They think the diamond market is so weak that even without this discovery of yours they could safely raid it.”
He told Guelder what the Dutchman did not know—he only took a very scrappy interest in mining affairs—that there was an intense rivalry between a small group of millionaires who had been ‘squeezed out’ of the diamond industry by a bigger group, and were keen to deal the industry a staggering blow.
There were one or two serious matters on which Julian would have liked to speak and which, but for that unnerving exchange he had had with Guelder, would have been the subject of a sharp rebuke. Guelder was extravagant: he knew nothing of the value of money. It was his habit to buy imperially in the pursuit of his profitable hobby and to leave his partner to foot the bill. A number of very heavy accounts had come in that morning, one of which, considerably over two thousand pounds, had demanded instant payment.
He did mildly remonstrate. “In a week or two’s time it won’t matter, but just now we’ve got to be very careful. I am staking a great deal on your scheme and I want to see my way out if it should go wrong.”
Guelder smiled slowly. “There is no way out, my friend,” he said, in his quietest tone. “We are committed completely—to the extent of your business and beyond! I will give you a word of advice, my dear Julian. Money is a definite thing. It matters nothing whence it comes. You may win a fortune by my discovery, you may also win a fortune by its promise.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” said Julian, frowning.
Guelder grinned. “Your friends are going to ‘bear’ the market—goot! Does it matter whether you win money by the ‘bearing’ of the market or by my discovery, whether you win money by persuading our Twister to give you fifty thousand shares or by digging a hole in the ground and finding a gold reef? Be sensible and intelligent, my frient. The race is nothing; the goal, the winning tape, the reward, is all!”
Julian Reef was a little bewildered, but forbore to ask any further questions. Half an hour later came three soberly dressed City men who moved in no atmosphere of romance, and brought with them none of the glamour of adventure; yet in their intent were pirates and treasure-seekers and assassins all in one.
Mr. Elk’s duties took him into queer places, some pleasant, some squalid. His visit to Woolwich produced both experiences. The villa at Plumstead, which he had described as “little”, was in point of fact a dwelling of some pretensions. It boasted a garage and extensive underground cellars. There was no disorder here; if the articles which went to its embellishment had been stolen they had been effectively utilized.
Mr. Weldin, the owner, had not stored his stolen pictures in the cellar; that was the place for wine. Rare wines there were, in enormous quantities. A certain old master which had been cut from its frame in the Louvre was re-framed and hanging in his bedroom and it was this, curiously enough, which had been his undoing, for there had been a leaky pipe in Mr. Weldin’s bathroom and a plumber had been summoned to deal with this commonplace domestic tragedy. He was specially privileged, because nobody was ever admitted to the house; Mrs. Weldin did the housework herself.
It was bad luck for this prince of receivers that the plumber had artistic leanings, and in his spare time attended painting classes. The last person in the world one would have expected to recognize instantly a stolen Corot was a journeyman plumber. Not only did he know its origin and history, but he knew all the circumstances of its theft.
He left the house, having done his duty as a plumber; and proceeded to the police station, where he did his duty as an artist and a citizen.
“Doesn’t seem natural to me,” said Elk. “I thought these trade unions kept painting and plumbing distinct.”
He was being shown round the beautiful residence preparatory to his visit to the more squalid scene of Mr. Weldin’s minor activities. This was a riverside warehouse, stacked with a nondescript collection of articles, from old clothing hanging precisely upon hooks, to unopened bales of merchandise that had been lifted by the river pirates.
“A lot of the stuff has been genuinely bought and paid for; a lot has undoubtedly come into his possession illegally,” said the local inspector, who was a precise man with an official vocabulary. “As a matter of fact, he’s got receipts for a good many of the big things in his house—the pictures, for instance. Weldin says he didn’t know the value of the Corot.”
“What’s that?” asked the puzzled Elk. “Oh, the picture! Is that how you pronounce it? What a marvellous thing is education, Inspector! If you take my advice, You’ll examine all this junk, very carefully—particularly the clothing. Very likely you’ll get a bigger charge against him if you do. Maybe you’ll be doing him a favour if you only charge him with robbery.”
He interviewed Mr. Weldin in his cell and found him very cheerful and confident.
“There never was such an outrage committed upon a citizen and a taxpayer,” he began, but Elk stopped him gently.
“That line of talk was fine before they invented finger-prints, Weldin; and we’ve just had your record back from the Yard, Weldin, Martin, Coates, Colonel Slane, John B. Sennet, or whatever your real name is.”
Weldin laughed, for he had a sense of humour. “If ever you meet the man who invented finger-prints, will you give him a slug on the head for me, Elk?”
“I’ll think about it,” said Mr. Elk genially, and left the stout robber to his fate. “I’m going to do a bit of investigating,” he told his clerk, “and I’m not to be disturbed.”
“What time would you like to be awakened, sir?” asked the clerk, without any offensive intent.
“With a cup of tea at five,” said Elk, and within a few minutes of turning the key in the lock was taking his afternoon nap.
The evening brought a summons to Woolwich and he went without complaint. He noticed on a newspaper bill something about “Diamond Slump”, but that did not interest him, though the news back of the bill had been sufficient to bring Tony Braid back to London in a hurry.
Tony called at various houses in Mayfair, discussed in quiet studies the meaning of the drop and found that one at least of the diamond millionaires had an explanation for the slump. “Sleser’s in the market,” said one, a good-looking, grey-bearded man identified with the industry. “He may or may not burn his fingers, but certainly we’re not going to spend money to fight him. Our shares are worth just what they were quoted before the drop, and they will return to normal in the natural course. There isn’t anything to be scared about.”
Tony smiled. “Personally, I’m not very scared,” he said. “Only I’m wondering whether Reef is behind it.”
“Reef?” The bearded man frowned. “Who the devil is Reef?” If Julian had heard him he would have hated him. “Oh yes, I remember! But why should he be ‘bearing’ diamonds? Anyway, we’re doing nothing, and the only advice I can give you—”
“Is quite unnecessary,” laughed Tony. “If the slump continues I’m a buyer, though my buying will not greatly affect the price.”
Other men did not take the same philosophical view. Already they had tables showing the enormous depreciation of capital value, and they were inclined to be alarmed at the prospect of a further fall. Each named a different man as being behind the bear raid, but all mentioned Sleser—the millionaire who hated the diamond group worse than he hated exercise. It was clear to Tony that the attack upon diamonds was a much more extensive and serious affair than he had at first thought.
