THE COMPLETE FOUR JUST MEN SERIES (6 Detective Thrillers in One Edition). Edgar Wallace

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ compartment during the wait at Kensington opened a carriage door and staggered back coughing. A solicitous porter and an alarmed station official ran forward and pulled open the door, and the sickly odour of almonds pervaded the station.

      A little knot of passengers gathered and peered over one another’s shoulders, whilst the station inspector investigated. By and by came a doctor, and a stretcher, and a policeman from the street without.

      Together they lifted the huddled form of a dead man from the carriage and laid it on the platform.

      “Did you find anything?” asked the policeman.

      “A sovereign and a broken bottle,” was the reply.

      The policeman fumbled in the dead man’s pockets.

      “I don’t suppose he’ll have any papers to show who he is,” he said with knowledge. “Here’s a first-class ticket — it must be a case of suicide. Here’s a card — —”

      He turned it over and read it, and his face underwent a change.

      He gave a few hurried instructions, then made his way to the nearest telegraph office.

      Superintendent Falmouth, who had snatched a few hours’ sleep at the Downing Street house, rose with a troubled mind and an uneasy feeling that in spite of all his precautions the day would end disastrously. He was hardly dressed before the arrival of the Assistant Commissioner was announced.

      “I have your report, Falmouth,” was the official’s greeting; “you did perfectly right to release Marks — have you had news of him this morning?”

      “No.”

      “H’m,” said the Commissioner thoughtfully. “I wonder whether — —” He did not finish his sentence. “Has it occurred to you that the Four may have realised their danger?”

      The detective’s face showed surprise.

      “Why, of course, sir.”

      “Have you considered what their probable line of action will be?”

      “N — no — unless it takes the form of an attempt to get out of the country.”

      “Has it struck you that whilst this man Marks is looking for them, they are probably seeking him?”

      “Bill is smart,” said the detective uneasily.

      “So are they,” said the Commissioner with an emphatic nod. “My advice is, get in touch with Marks and put two of your best men to watch him.”

      “That shall be done at once,” replied Falmouth; “I am afraid that it is a precaution that should have been taken before.”

      “I am going to see Sir Philip,” the Commissioner went on, and he added with a dubious smile, “I shall be obliged to frighten him a little.”

      “What is the idea?”

      “We wish him to drop this Bill. Have you seen the morning papers?”

      “No, sir.”

      “They are unanimous that the Bill should be abandoned — they say because it is not sufficiently important to warrant the risk, that the country itself is divided on its merit; but as a matter of fact they are afraid of the consequence; and upon my soul I’m a little afraid too.”

      He mounted the stairs, and was challenged at the landing by one of his subordinates.

      This was a system introduced after the episode of the disguised ‘detective’. The Foreign Minister was now in a state of siege. Nobody had to be trusted, a password had been initiated, and every precaution taken to ensure against a repetition of the previous mistake.

      His hand was raised to knock upon the panel of the study, when he felt his arm gripped. He turned to see Falmouth with white face and startled eyes.

      “They’ve finished Billy,” said the detective breathlessly. “He has just been found in a railway carriage at Kensington.”

      The Commissioner whistled.

      “How was it done?” he asked.

      Falmouth was the picture of haggard despair.

      “Prussic acid gas,” he said bitterly; “they are scientific. Look you, sir, persuade this man to drop his damned Bill.”

      He pointed to the door of Sir Philip’s room. “We shall never save him. I have got the feeling in my bones that he is a doomed man.”

      “Nonsense!” the Commissioner answered sharply.

      “You are growing nervous — you haven’t had enough sleep, Falmouth. That isn’t spoken like your real self — we must save him.”

      He turned from the study and beckoned one of the officers who guarded the landing.

      “Sergeant, tell Inspector Collins to send an emergency call throughout the area for reserves to gather immediately. I will put such a cordon round Ramon today,” he went on addressing Falmouth, “that no man shall reach him without the fear of being crushed to death.”

      And within an hour there was witnessed in London a scene that has no parallel in the history of the Metropolis. From every district there came a small army of policemen. They arrived by train, by tramway car, by motorbus, by every vehicle and method of traction that could be requisitioned or seized. They streamed from the stations, they poured through the thoroughfares, till London stood aghast at the realisation of the strength of her civic defences.

      Whitehall was soon packed from end to end; St James’s Park was black with them. Automatically Whitehall, Charles Street, Birdcage Walk, and the eastern end of the Mall were barred to all traffic by solid phalanxes of mounted constables. St George’s Street was in the hands of the force, the roof of every house was occupied by a uniformed man. Not a house or room that overlooked in the slightest degree the Foreign Secretary’s residence but was subjected to a rigorous search. It was as though martial law had been proclaimed, and indeed two regiments of Guards were under arms the whole of the day ready for any emergency. In Sir Philip’s room the Commissioner, backed by Falmouth, made his last appeal to the stubborn man whose life was threatened.

      “I tell you, sir,” said the Commissioner earnestly, “we can do no more than we have done, and I am still afraid. These men affect me as would something supernatural. I have a horrible dread that for all our precautions we have left something out of our reckoning; that we are leaving unguarded some avenue which by their devilish ingenuity they may utilise. The death of this man Marks has unnerved me — the Four are ubiquitous as well as omnipotent. I beg of you, sir, for God’s sake, think well before you finally reject their terms. Is the passage of this Bill so absolutely necessary?” — he paused— “is it worth your life?” he asked with blunt directness; and the crudity of the question made Sir Philip wince.

      He waited some time before he replied, and when he spoke his voice was low and firm.

      “I shall not withdraw,” he said slowly, with a dull, dogged evenness of tone. “I shall not withdraw in any circumstance.

      “I СКАЧАТЬ