CLOWNS AND CRIMINALS - Complete Series (Thriller Classics). E. Phillips Oppenheim

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СКАЧАТЬ directed. It was a list of the stolen property, which consisted of jewelry, gold and notes to a very considerable amount. With the waiter’s permission, he annexed the paper, cut out the list of articles with a sharp penknife, and placed it in his pocketbook before he left the cafe.

      In the course of some of the smaller cases with which Peter Ruff had been from time to time connected, he had more than once come into contact with the authorities at Scotland Yard, and he had several acquaintances there—not including Mr. John Dory—to whom, at times, he had given valuable information. For the first time, he now sought some return for his many courtesies. He drove straight from the cafe to the office of the Chief of the Criminal Investigation Department. The questions he asked there were only two, but they were promptly and courteously answered. Peter Ruff left the building and drove back to his rooms in a somewhat congratulatory frame of mind. After all, it was chance which was the chief factor in the solution of so many of these cases! Often he had won less success after months of untiring effort than he had gained during that few minutes in the cafe in Regent Street.

      Peter Ruff became an inmate of that very select boarding-house carried on by Mrs. Bognor at number 17 Russell Street, Bloomsbury. He arrived with a steamer trunk, an elaborate traveling-bag and a dressing-case; took the best vacant room in the house, and dressed for dinner. Mrs. Bognor looked upon him as a valuable addition to her clientele, and introduced him freely to her other guests. Among these was Major Edward Jones. Major Jones sat at Mrs. Bognor’s right hand, and was evidently the show guest of the boarding-house. Peter Ruff, without the least desire to attack his position, sat upon her left and monopolized the conversation. On the third night it turned, by chance, upon precious stones. Peter Ruff drew a little chamois leather bag from his pocket.

      “I am afraid,” he said, “that my tastes are peculiar. I have been in the East, and I have seen very many precious stones in their uncut state. To my mind, there is nothing to be compared with opals. These are a few I brought home from India. Perhaps you would like to look at them, Mrs. Bognor.”

      They were passed round, amidst a little chorus of admiration.

      “The large one with the blue fire,” Peter Ruff remarked, “is, I think, remarkably beautiful. I have never seen a stone quite like it.”

      “It is wonderful!” murmured the young lady who was sitting at Major Jones’s right hand. “What a fortunate man you are, Mr. Ruff, to have such a collection of treasures!”

      Peter Ruff bowed across the table. Major Jones, who was beginning to feel that his position as show guest was in danger, thrust his hand into his waistcoat pocket and produced a lady’s ring, in which was set a single opal.

      “Very pretty stones,” he remarked carelessly, “but I can’t say I am very fond of them. Here’s one that belonged to my sister, and my grandmother before her. I have it in my pocket because I was thinking of having the stone reset and making a present of it to a friend of mine.”

      Peter Ruff’s popularity waned—he had said nothing about making a present to any one of even the most insignificant of his opals! And the one which Major Jones now handed round was certainly a magnificent stone. Peter Ruff examined it with the rest, and under the pretext of studying the setting, gazed steadfastly at the inside through his eyeglass. Major Jones, from the other side of the table, frowned, and held out his hand for the ring.

      “A very beautiful stone indeed!” Peter Ruff declared, passing it across the tablecloth. “Really, I do not think that there is one in my little collection to be compared with it. Have you many treasures like this, Major Jones?”

      “Oh, a few!” the Major answered carelessly, “family heirlooms, most of them.”

      “You will have to give me the ring, Major Jones,” the young lady on his right remarked archly. “It’s bad luck, you know, to give it to any one who is not born in October, and my birthday is on the twelfth.”

      “My dear Miss Levey,” Major Jones answered, whispering in her ear, “more unlikely things have happened than that I should beg your acceptance of this little trifle.”

      “Sooner or later,” Peter Ruff said genially, “I should like to have a little conversation with you, Major. I fancy that we ought to be able to find plenty of subjects of common interest.”

      “Delighted, I’m sure!” the latter answered, utterly unsuspicious. “Shall we go into the smoking-room now, or would you rather play a rubber first?”

      “If it is all the same to you,” Peter Ruff said, “I think we will have a cigar first. There will be plenty of time for bridge afterwards.”

      “May I offer you a cigar, sir?” Major Jones inquired, passing across a well-filled case.

      Peter Ruff sighed.

      “I am afraid, Major,” he said, “that there is scarcely time. You see, I have a warrant in my pocket for your arrest, and I am afraid that by the time we got to the station—”

      Major Jones leaned forward in his chair. He gripped the sides tightly with both hands. His eyes seemed to be protruding from his head.

      “For my what?” he exclaimed, in a tone of horror.

      “For your arrest,” Peter Ruff explained calmly. “Surely you must have been expecting it! During all these years you must have grown used to expecting it at every moment!”

      Major Jones collapsed. He looked at Ruff as one might look at a man who has taken leave of his senses. Yet underneath it all was the coward’s fear!

      “What are you talking about, man?” he exclaimed. “What do you mean? Lower your voice, for heaven’s sake! Consider my position here! Some one might overhear! If this is a joke, let me tell you that it’s a d——d foolish one!”

      Peter Ruff raised his eyebrows.

      “I do not wish,” he said, “to create a disturbance—my manner of coming here should have assured you of that. At the same time, business is business. I hold a warrant for your arrest, and I am forced to execute it.”

      “Do you mean that you are a detective, then?” Major Jones demanded.

      He was a big man, but his voice seemed to have grown very small indeed.

      “Naturally,” Peter Ruff answered. “I should not come here without authority.”

      “What is the charge?” the other man faltered.

      “Blackmail,” Peter Ruff said slowly. “The information against you is lodged by Sir Richard Dyson.”

      It seemed to Peter Ruff, who was watching his companion closely, that a wave of relief passed over the face of the man who sat cowering in his chair. He certainly drew a little gasp—stretched out his hands, as though to thrust the shadow of some fear from him. His voice, when he spoke, was stronger. Some faint show of courage was returning to him.

      “There is some ridiculous mistake,” he declared. “Let us talk this over like sensible men, Mr. Ruff. If you will wait until I have spoken to Sir Richard, I can promise you that the warrant shall be withdrawn, and that you shall not be the loser.”

      “I am afraid it is too late for anything of that sort,” Peter Ruff said. “Sir Richard’s patience has been completely exhausted by your repeated demands.”

      “He never СКАЧАТЬ