The Lone Wolf (Detective Mystery Novel). Louis Joseph Vance
Читать онлайн книгу.
and exacting.
"Monsieur is, no doubt, now satisfied?" Lanyard enquired when his patience would endure no longer.
"These are genuine?" the Minister of War demanded sharply, without looking up.
"Monsieur can readily discern notations made upon the drawings by the inventor, Georges Huysman, in his own hand. Furthermore, each plan has been marked in the lower left-hand corner with the word 'accepted' followed by the initials of the German Minister of War. I think this establishes beyond dispute the authenticity of these photographs of the plan for Huysman's invention."
"Yes," the Minister of War agreed breathlessly. "You have the negatives from which these prints were made?"
"Here," Lanyard said, indicating a second cigarette.
And then, with a movement so leisurely and careless that his purpose was accomplished before the other in his preoccupation was aware of it, the adventurer leaned forward and swept up the prints from the counterpane in front of Monsieur Ducroy.
"Here!" the Frenchman exclaimed. "Why do you do that?"
"Monsieur no longer questions their authenticity?"
"I grant you that."
"Then I return to myself these prints, pending negotiations for their transfer to France."
"How did you come by them?" demanded Monsieur Ducroy, after a moment's thought.
"Need monsieur ask? Is France so ill-served by her spies that you do not already know of the misfortune one Captain Ekstrom recently suffered in London?"
Ducroy shook his head. Lanyard received this indication with impatience. It seemed hardly possible that the French Minister of War could be either so stupid or so ignorant….
But with a patient shrug, he proceeded to elucidate.
"Captain Ekstrom," he said, "but recently succeeded in photographing these plans and took them to London to sell to the English. Unfortunately for himself — unhappily for perfidious Albion! — Captain Ekstrom fell in with me and mistook me for Downing Street's representative. And here are the plans."
"You are — the Lone Wolf — then?"
"I am, as far as concerns you, monsieur, merely the person in possession of these plans, who offers them through you, to France, for a price."
"But why introduce yourself to me in this extraordinary fashion, for a transaction for which the customary channels — with which you must be familiar — are entirely adequate?"
"Simply because Ekstrom has followed me to Paris," Lanyard explained indulgently. "Did I venture to approach you in the usual way, my chances of rounding out a useful life thereafter would be practically nil. Furthermore, my circumstances are such that it has become necessary for me to leave France immediately — without an hour's delay — also secretly; else I might as well remain here to be butchered…. Now you command the only means I know of, to accomplish my purpose. And that is the price, the only price, you will have to pay me for these plans."
"I don't understand you."
"It is on schedule, is it not, that Captain Vauquelin of the Aviation Corps is to attempt a non-stop flight from Paris to London this morning, with two passengers, in a new Parrott biplane?"
"That is so…. Well?"
"I must be one of those passengers; and I have a companion, a young lady, who will take the place of the other."
"It isn't possible, monsieur. Those arrangements are already fixed."
"You will countermand them."
"There is no time — "
"You can get into telephonic communication with Port Aviation in two minutes."
"But the passengers have been promised — "
"You will disappoint them."
"The start is to be made in the first flush of daylight. How could you reach Port Aviation in time?"
"In your motor-car, monsieur."
"It cannot be done."
"It must! If the start must be delayed till we arrive, you will give orders that it shall be so delayed."
For a minute the Minister of War hesitated; then he shook his head definitely.
"The difficulties are insuperable — "
"There is no such thing, monsieur."
"I am sorry: it can't be done."
"That is your answer?"
"It is regrettable, monsieur…"
"Very well!" Lanyard bent forward again, took a match from the stand on the bedside table, and struck it. Very calmly he advanced the flame toward the cigarette containing the roll of inflammable films.
"Monsieur!" Ducroy cried in horror. "What are you doing?"
Lanyard favoured him with a look of surprise.
"I am about to destroy these films and prints."
"You must never do that!"
"Why not? They are mine, to do with as I like. If I cannot dispose of them at my price, I shall destroy them!"
"But — my God! — what you demand is impossible! Stay, monsieur! Think what your action means to France!"
"I have already thought of that. Now I must think of myself."
"But — one moment!"
Ducroy sat up in bed and dangled hairy fat legs over the side.
"But one moment only, monsieur. Don't make me waste your matches!"
"Monsieur, it shall be as you desire, if it lies in my power to accomplish it."
With this the Minister of War stood up and made for the telephone, in his agitation forgetful of dressing-gown and slippers.
"You must accomplish it, Monsieur Ducroy," Lanyard advised him gravely, puffing out the flame; "for if you fail, you make yourself the instrument of my death. Here are the plans."
"You trust them to me?" Ducroy asked in astonishment.
"But naturally: that makes it an affair of your honour," Lanyard explained suavely.
With a gesture of graceful capitulation the Frenchman accepted the little roll of film.
"Permit me," he said, "to acknowledge the honour of monsieur's confidence!"
Lanyard bowed low: "One knows with whom one deals, monsieur!… And now, if you will be good enough to excuse me…."
He turned to the door.
"But — eh — where are you going?" Ducroy demanded.
"Mademoiselle," Lanyard said, pausing on the threshold — "that is, the young lady who is to accompany me — is waiting anxiously in the garden, out yonder. I go to find and reassure her and — with your permission — to bring her in to the library, where we will await monsieur when he has finished telephoning and — ah — repaired the deficiencies in his attire; which one trusts he will forgive one's mentioning!"
He bowed again, impudently, gaily, and — when the Minister of War looked up again sheepishly from contemplation of his naked shanks — had vanished.
In high feather Lanyard made his way to a door at the rear of the house which gave upon the garden — in his new social status of Governmental protégé disdaining any such a commonplace avenue as that conservatory window whose fastenings he had forced on entering. And boldly unbolting the door, he ran out into the night, to rejoin his beloved, like a man waking to new life.
But she was no more there: the bench was vacant, the garden deserted, the gateway yawning on the street.
With a low, stifled cry, Lanyard turned from the bench and stumbled out to the junction of the