21 Greatest Spy Thrillers in One Premium Edition (Mystery & Espionage Series). E. Phillips Oppenheim
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shook his head firmly.
“Under no circumstances,” he declared, “should I think of delivering the document into any other hands save those of Mademoiselle Idiale. To tell you the truth, I had not fully decided whether to part with it even to her. I was simply prepared to hear what she had to say. But it may save time if I assure you, Mr. Lassen, that nothing would induce me to part with it to any one else.”
There was no trace left of that ingratiating smile upon Mr. Lassen’s face. He had the appearance now of an ugly animal about to show its teeth. Laverick was suddenly on his guard. More adventures, he thought, casting a somewhat contemptuous glance at the physique of the other man. He laid his fingers as though carelessly upon a small bronze ornament which reposed amongst others on a table by his side. If Mr. Lassen’s fat and ugly hand should steal toward his pocket, Laverick was prepared to hurl the ornament at his head.
“I am very sorry to hear you say that, Mr. Laverick,” Lassen said slowly. “I hope very much that you will see your way clear to change your mind. I can assure you that I have as much right to the document as Mademoiselle Idiale, and that it is her earnest wish that you should hand it over to me. Further, I may inform you that the document itself is a most incriminating one. Its possession upon your person, or upon the person of any one who was not upon his guard, might be a very serious matter indeed.”
Laverick shrugged his shoulders.
“As a matter of fact,” he declared, “I certainly have no idea of carrying it about with me. On the other hand, I shall part with it to no one. I might discuss the matter with Mademoiselle Idiale as soon as she is recovered. I am not disposed—I mean no offence, sir—but I may say frankly that I am not disposed even to do as much with you.”
Laverick rose to his feet with the obvious intention of leaving. Lassen followed his example and confronted him.
“Mr. Laverick,” he said, “in your own interests you must not talk like that,—in your own interests, I say.”
“At any rate,” Laverick remarked, “my interests are better looked after by myself than by strangers. You must forgive my adding, Mr. Lassen, that you are a stranger to me.”
“No more so than Mademoiselle Idiale!” the little man exclaimed.
“Mademoiselle Idiale has given me certain proof that she knew at least of the existence of this document,” Laverick answered. “She has established, therefore, a certain claim to my consideration. You announce yourself as Mademoiselle Idiale’s deputy, but you bring me no proof of the fact, nor, in any case, am I disposed to treat with you. You must allow me to wish you good afternoon.”
Lassen shook his head.
“Mr. Laverick,” he declared, “you are too impetuous. You force me to remind you that your own position as holder of that document is not a very secure one. All the police in this capital are searching to-day for the man who killed that unfortunate creature who was found murdered in Crooked Friars’ Alley. If they could find the man who was in possession of his pocket-book, who was in possession of twenty thousand pounds taken from the dead man’s body and with it had saved his business and his credit, how then, do you think? I say nothing of the document.”
Laverick was silent for a moment. He realized, however, that to make terms with this man was impossible. Besides, he did not trust him. He did not even trust him so far as to believe him the accredited envoy of Mademoiselle.
“My unfortunate position,” Laverick said, “has nothing whatever to do with the matter. Where you got your information from I cannot say. I neither accept nor deny it. But I can assure you that I am not to be intimidated. This document will remain in my possession until some one can show me a very good reason for parting with it.”
Lassen beat the back of the chair against which he was standing with his clenched fist.
“A reason why you should part with it!” he exclaimed fiercely. “Man, it stares you there in the face! If you do not part with it, you will be arrested within twenty-four hours for the murder or complicity in the murder of Rudolph Von Behrling! That I swear! That I shall see to myself!”
“In which case,” Laverick remarked, “the document will fall into the hands of the English police.”
The shot told. Laverick could have laughed as he watched its effect upon his listener. Mr. Lassen’s face was black with unuttered curses. He looked as though he would have fallen upon Laverick bodily.
“What do you know about its contents?” he hissed. “Why do you suppose it would not suit my purpose to have it fall into the hands of the English police?”
“I can see no reason whatever,” Laverick answered, “why I should take you into my confidence as to how much I know and how much I do not know. I wish you good afternoon, Mr. Lassen! I shall be ready to wait upon Mademoiselle Idiale at any time she sends for me. But in case it should interest you to be made aware of the fact,” he added, with a little bow, “I am not going round with this terrible document in my possession.”
He moved to the door. Already his hand was upon the knob when he saw the movement for which he had watched. Laverick, with a single bound, was upon his would-be assailant. The hand which had already closed upon the butt of the small revolver was gripped as though in a vice. With a scream of pain Lassen dropped the weapon upon the floor. Laverick picked it up, thrust it into his coat pocket and, taking the man’s collar with both hands, he shook him till the eyes seemed starting from his head and his shrieks of fear were changed into moans. Then he flung him into a corner of the room.
“You cowardly brute!” he exclaimed. “You come of the breed of men who shoot from behind. If ever I lay my hands upon you again, you’ll be lucky if you live to whimper about it.”
He left the room and rang for the lift. He saw no trace of any servants in the hall, nor heard any sound of any one moving. From Dover Street he drove straight to Zoe’s house. Keeping the cab waiting, he knocked at the door. She opened it herself at once, and her eyes glowed with pleasure.
“How delightful!” she cried. “Please come in. Have you come to take me to the theatre?”
He followed her into the parlor and closed the door behind them.
“Zoe,” he said, “I am going to ask you a favor.”
“Me a favor?” she repeated. “I think you know how happy it will make me if there is anything—anything at all in the world that I could do.”
“A week ago,” Laverick continued, “I was an honest but not very successful stockbroker, with a natural longing for adventures which never came my way. Since then things have altered. I have stumbled in upon the most curious little chain of happenings which ever became entwined with the life of a commonplace being like myself. The net result, for the moment, is this. Every one is trying to steal from me a certain document which I have in my pocket. I want to hide it for the night. I cannot go to the police, it is too late to go back to Chancery Lane, and I have an instinctive feeling that my flat is absolutely at the mercy of my enemies. May I hide my document in your room? I do not believe for a moment that any one would think of searching here.”
“Of course you may,” she answered. “But listen. Can you see out into the street without moving very much?”
He turned his head. He had been standing with his back to the window, and Zoe had been facing it.
“Yes, I can see into the street,” he assented.
“Tell me—you see that taxi on the other side of the way?” she asked.
He nodded.
“It wasn’t there when I drove up,” he remarked.
“I was at the window, looking out, when you came,” she said. “It followed you out from the Square into this street. Directly you stopped, I saw the man put on the brake and pull up his cab. It seemed to me so strange, just as though some one were watching you all the time.”
Laverick