THE COMPLETE BULLDOG DRUMMOND SERIES (10 Novels in One Edition). H. C. McNeile / Sapper

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      "And when he goes and makes a prize ass of himself, it struck me that I ought to sit up and take notice. I thought it over all last night, and decided to come and tell you this morning, so that we could all have a go at him tonight."

      "What has he done?" demanded Hugh with some interest.

      "You know he's got a laboratory," continued Algy, "where he goes and plays games. It's a perfect factory of extraordinary smells, but the old dear seems to enjoy himself. He'll probably try his new albumenised chicken food on you tonight, but that's a detail. To get to the point—have you ever noticed that big diamond Brenda wears as a brooch?"

      "Yes, I have. Phyllis was speaking about it the other night."

      "You know he made it," said Algy quietly, and Hugh stared at him. "It is still supposed to be a secret: it was to be kept dark till the next meeting of the Royal Society—but after what has happened I decided to tell you. About a fortnight ago a peculiar-looking bloke called Sir Raymond Blantyre came and dined.

      "He's made his money in diamonds, and he was on to that diamond like a terrier on to a rat. And when he heard old Goodman had made it, I thought he was going to expire from a rush of blood to the head. He'd just offered Brenda a cheque for ten thousand for it, when he was told it had cost a little over a fiver to make.

      "As I say, he turned a deep magenta and dropped his eyeglass in the sauce tartare. That was the first spasm; the next we heard last night. Apparently the old man agreed to give a demonstration to this bloke and some of his pals, and the result of the show was—great heavens! when I think of it, my brain comes out in a rash—the result, Hugh, was that they offered him a quarter of a million pounds to suppress his discovery.

      "Two hundred and fifty thousand acidulated tablets—and he refused. One supreme glorious burst on fifty thousand of the best, and an income from the remaining two hundred for the rest of his life. We worked it out after dinner, my boy—Brenda and I. Two hundred thousand at five per cent. We couldn't quite make out what it would come to, but whatever it is he has cast it from him. And then you wonder at my anguish."

      With a hollow groan Algy helped himself to beer and sank into a chair.

      "Look here, Algy," said Hugh, after a pause, "you aren't playing the fool, are you? You literally mean that Professor Goodman has discovered a method by which diamonds can be made artificially?"

      "Exactly; that is what I literally mean. And I further literally mean that he has turned down an offer of a quarter of a million thick 'uns to keep dark about it. And what I want you and Phyllis to do this evening..."

      "Dry up," interrupted Hugh. He was staring out of the window, and his usual look of inane good temper had completely vanished.

      He was thinking deeply, and after a few moments he swung round on the disconsolate Algy.

      "This is a pretty serious affair, Algy," he remarked.

      "You bet your life it is," agreed his friend. "Quarter..."

      "Cut it out about the boodle. That's bad, I admit—but it's not that I'm thinking of."

      "I don't know what the deuce else there is to think about. Just because he wants to spout out his footling discovery to a bunch of old geysers at the Royal Society..."

      Hugh regarded him dispassionately. "I have often wondered why they ever let you leave school," he remarked. "Your brain is even smaller than the ten- bob helping of caviare they gave me at the Majestic last night. You don't really think it's a footling discovery, do you? You don't really think people run about the streets of London pressing two hundred and fifty thousand pounds on comparative strangers for fun?"

      "Oh! I suppose the old bean has spotted a winner right enough," conceded Algy grudgingly.

      "Now, look here," said Drummond quietly. "I don't profess to know anything about diamonds or the diamond market. But if what you say is correct—if the Professor can manufacture a stone worth at current prices ten thousand pounds for a fiver—you don't require to know much about markets to see that diamonds will be on a par with bananas as soon as the process is known.

      "Further, you don't require to know much about markets to see that such a state of affairs would be deuced unpopular with quite a lot of people. If you've got all your money in diamonds and wake up one bright morning to read in the paper that a diamond weighing half a ton has just been manufactured for three and sixpence, it's going to make the breakfast kipper look a bit jaded."

      "I know all that, old boy," said Algy a bit wearily. "But they're just additional reasons for the old ass taking the money. Then everyone would be happy. Only he's so confoundedly pigheaded. Why, when I sort of suggested after dinner last night during the nut-mastication period that he could do a lot with the boodle—help him no end with his albumenised chicken seed, and all that—he got quite stuffy."

      "'My dear boy,' he said, 'you don't understand. To offer a scientist money to suppress a discovery of possibly far-reaching importance is not only an insult to him, but it is also an insult to science. I would not suppress this for a million pounds.'

      "Then he forgot to pass the port, and the meeting broke up in disorder."

      Hugh nodded thoughtfully. "I'm afraid they will suppress it for him," he said gravely.

      Algy stared at him. "How do you mean, suppress it for him?" he demanded at length.

      "I haven't an idea," answered Drummond. "Not even the beginning of one. But people have fallen in front of tube trains before now; people have been accidentally killed by a passing car—"

      "But, good heavens, man," cried Algy dazedly, "you don't mean to say that you think someone will murder the poor old fruit?" Drummond shrugged his shoulders. "Your future father-in-law has it in his power to completely ruin large numbers of extremely wealthy men. Apparently with the best will in the world he proposes to do so. He has butted into a huge vested interest, and, as far as I can make out from what you've told me, he quite fails to realise the fact."

      He lit a cigarette thoughtfully.

      "But what the devil are we to do, Hugh?" said Algy, now very serious himself. "I tell you it will be impossible to make him accept that money. He's as docile as a sheep in some ways, but once he does stick his toes in over anything, a bag of gun powder won't shift him."

      "Well, if he really is determined to go through with it, it may be necessary to get him away and keep a watchful eye on him till he gets it off his chest at the Royal Society. That's to say if he'll come. Once it's out—it's out, and the reasons for doing away with him will largely have disappeared."

      "Yes; but I say, old man—murder!"

      Algy harked back to his original point. "Don't you think that's a bit over the odds?" Hugh laughed grimly. "You've lived the quiet life too long, Algy. There are stakes at issue now which strike me as being a deuced sight bigger than anything we played for with dear old Carl Peterson. Bigger at any rate financially."

      An almost dreamy look came into his eyes, and he sighed deeply.

      "Those were the days, Algy—those were the days. I'm afraid we shall never have them again. Still—if what I'm afraid of is correct, we might have a bit of fun, looking after the old man. Dull, of course, but better than nothing."

      He sighed again, and helped himself to more beer.

      "Now СКАЧАТЬ