The Greatest Thrillers of Edgar Wallace. Edgar Wallace

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СКАЧАТЬ the impertinence, but if our friend is ill-’

      She was at first startled by his urgency.

      ‘He couldn’t hear me,’ she said, but spoke in a lower tone.

      ‘He may-sick people are very sensitive to the human voice. Tell me, how did this letter come?’

      ‘From Mr. Telfer? By district messenger an hour ago.’

      Nobody had been to the house or left it-except Sidney. And Sidney, in his blind fear, would carry out any instructions which his wife gave to him.

      ‘And did it contain a passage like this?’ Mr. Reeder considered a moment. ‘“Bring this letter with you”?’

      ‘No,’ said the girl in surprise, ‘but Mrs. Welford telephoned just before the letter arrived and told me to wait for it. And she asked me to bring the letter with me because she didn’t wish Mr. Telfer’s private correspondence to be left lying around. But why do you ask me this, Mr. Reederis anything wrong?’

      He did not answer immediately. Pushing open the gate, he walked noiselessly along the grass plot that ran parallel with the path.

      ‘Open the door, I will come in with you,’ he whispered and, when she hesitated: ‘Do as I tell you, please.’

      The hand that put the key into the lock trembled, but at last the key turned and the door swung open. A small nightlight burnt on the table of the wide panelled hall. On the left, near the foot of the stairs, only the lower steps of which were visible, Reeder saw a narrow door which stood open, and, taking a step forward, saw that it was a tiny telephone-room.

      And then a voice spoke from the upper landing, a deep, booming voice that he knew.

      ‘Is that Miss Belman?’

      Margaret, her heart beating faster, went to the foot of the stairs and looked up.

      ‘Yes, Mrs. Welford.’

      ‘You brought the letter with you?’

      ‘Yes.’

      Mr. Reeder crept along the wall until he could have touched the girl.

      ‘Good,’ said the deep voice. ‘Will you call the doctor-Circle 743-and tell him that Mr. Telfer has had a relapse-you will find the booth in the hall: shut the door behind you, the bell worries him.’

      Margaret looked at the detective and he nodded.

      The woman upstairs wished to gain time for something-what?

      The girl passed him: he heard the thud of the padded door close, and there was a click that made him spin round. The first thing he noticed was that there was no handle to the door, the second that the keyhole was covered by a steel disc, which he discovered later was felt-lined. He heard the girl speaking faintly, and put his ear to the keyhole.

      ‘The instrument is disconnected-I can’t open the door.’

      Without a second’s hesitation, he flew up the stairs, umbrella in hand, and as he reached the landing he heard a door close with a crash. Instantly he located the sound. It came from a room on the left immediately over the hall. The door was locked.

      ‘Open this door,’ he commanded, and there came to him the sound of a deep laugh.

      Mr. Reeder tugged at the stout handle of his umbrella. There was a flicker of steel as he dropped the lower end, and in his hand appeared six inches of knife blade.

      The first stab at the panel sliced through the thin wood as though it were paper. In a second there was a jagged gap through which the black muzzle of an automatic was thrust.

      ‘Put down that jug or I will blow your features into comparative chaos!’ said Mr. Reeder pedantically.

      The room was brightly lit, and he could see plainly. Mrs. Welford stood by the side of a big square funnel, the narrow end of which ran into the floor. In her hand was a huge enamelled iron jug, and ranged about her were six others. In one corner of the room was a wide circular tank, and beyond, at half its height, depended a large copper pipe. 114

      The woman’s face turned to him was blank, expressionless.

      ‘He wanted to run away with her,’ she said simply, ‘and after all I have done for him!’

      ‘Open the door.’

      Mrs. Welford set down the jug and ran her huge hand across her forehead.

      ‘Sidney is my own darling,’ she said. ‘I’ve nursed him, and taught him, and there was a million-all in gold-in the ship. But they robbed him.’

      She was talking of one of the illfated enterprises of Telfers Consolidated Trust-that sunken treasure ship to recover which the money of the company had been poured out like water. And she was mad. He had guessed the weakness of this domineering woman from the first.

      ‘Open the door; we will talk it over. I’m perfectly sure that the treasure ship scheme was a sound one.’

      ‘Are you?’ she asked eagerly, and the next minute the door was open and Mr. J.G. Reeder was in that room of death.

      ‘First of all, let me have the key of the telephone-room-you are quite wrong about that young lady: she is my wife.’

      The woman stared at him blankly.

      ‘Your wife?’ A slow smile transfigured the face. ‘Why-I was silly. Here is the key.’

      He persuaded her to come downstairs with him, and when the frightened girl was released, he whispered a few words to her, and she flew out of the house.

      ‘Shall we go into the drawingroom?’ he asked, and Mrs. Welford led the way.

      ‘And now will you tell me how you knew-about the jugs?’ he asked gently.

      She was sitting on the edge of a sofa, her hands clasped on her knees, her deepset eyes staring at the carpet.

      ‘John-that was my first husband-told me. He was a professor of chemistry and natural science, and also about the electric furnace. It is so easy to make if you have power-we use nothing but electricity in this house for heating and everything. And then I saw my poor darling being ruined through me, and I found how much money there was in the bank, and I told Billingham to draw it and bring it to me without Sidney knowing. He came here in the evening. I sent Sidney away-to Brighton, I think. I did everything-put the new lock on the telephone box and fixed the shaft from the roof to the little room-it was easy to disperse everything with all the doors open and an electric fan working on the floor-’

      She was telling him about the improvised furnace in the greenhouse when the police arrived with the divisional surgeon, and she went away with them, weeping because there would be nobody to press Sidney’s ties or put out his shirts.

      Mr. Reeder took the inspector up to the little room and showed him its contents.

      ‘This funnel leads to the telephone box-’ he began.

      ‘But СКАЧАТЬ