The London Crimes

CHAPTER XIV. EVENTS IN LONDON

SHORTLY before noon, Harry Vincent arrived at the offices of Rudlow, Limited. He paused outside the building in Threadneedle Street, to watch the unloading of a bank truck. Harry was but one of many curious observers who saw four uniformed men march into the building with an object no larger than a small satchel.

There were others about, whom Harry took to be Scotland Yard men. They followed the bank guards into the Rudlow office; but the armored truck remained. Two constables moved the crowd along. Harry decided to go into the building.

The outer office occupied by Rudlow, Limited, was fenced off in one corner to form a waiting room. This was where Harry entered. At the gate, he inquired for Inspector Delka. A boy was sent into a suite of private offices. He returned, followed by Delka.

Harry introduced himself. When he stated that he was an American, and a friend of Lamont Cranston’s, Delka became keenly interested. He told Harry to follow him. They went through to the private offices; there they entered a conference room, beyond which was a door marked with the title: “Managing Director.”

Both Sidney Lewsham and Sir Ernest Jennup were seated in the conference room. Two bank guards were at a table in the corner, with revolvers ready in their holsters. Between them was the precious bag that had been brought in from outside.

Delka introduced Harry to Lewsham and Sir Ernest. Both eyed him with a trifle of suspicion. Harry stated himself.

“Cranston called me shortly after midnight,” he explained. “He had come up to London and was at Charing Cross, so he said. He told me that he would be at the Moravia all day; but that he would be busy and would prefer to see me later.”

“Yet you went to the Moravia?” queried Lewsham.

“Yes,” acknowledged Harry, “because another matter came up this morning. I wanted to talk with him about my passport. But Cranston was not at the Moravia.”

“How did you happen to come here?”

“I made inquiry to the Moravia. They suggested that I communicate with Scotland Yard and ask for Inspector Delka. I did so and learned that he was here.”

Harry’s tone was a grave one that showed deep concern. It passed muster, especially because the others began at once to wonder about The Shadow’s whereabouts.

“The last we heard of Cranston was when he left Craybaw’s,” mused Lewsham. “But if anything has happened to him, we can now trace from Charing Cross.”

“Not necessarily,” put in Delka, with a shake of his head. “The call could have been from somewhere else. It came at midnight, you say, Mr. Vincent?”

Harry nodded.

“Why was Cranston at Charing Cross as late as midnight?” queried Delka, suddenly. “His train arrived there long before that. Unless he missed it and took a later one.”

“Cuthbert would have mentioned it,” remarked Sir Ernest, “Or he might have brought Cranston back with him.”

“And there would be no reason for Cranston staying at Charing Cross,” insisted Delka. Then, to Lewsham: “This may be another development, chief.”

Harry was relieved when Lewsham shook his head.

“Forget it for the present, Delka,” decided the chief constable. “Since Cranston said for Vincent to wait until evening before calling at the Moravia, there is a chance that Cranston had alternate plans for the day. Let us wait until nightfall before we press this matter.”

HARRY had apparently established himself because of his claim of friendship with Lamont Cranston. No one urged him to leave, so he quietly seated himself beside Delka. Lewsham made a cryptic comment to Delka.

“Remember about Craybaw?”

Delka nodded. Harry smiled to himself. He understood that Lewsham meant for Delka to watch Craybaw. There was no need for Harry to bring up the emergency warning.

The door of Craybaw’s office opened and a small group of men filed out. These were evidently the directors. One remained and shook hands with Sir Ernest Jennup. He was a portly, pleasant-faced man, who wore pince-nez spectacles. Craybaw introduced him to Lewsham.

“Mr. Thaddeus Blessingwood, the comptroller for Rudlow, Limited.”

Blessingwood bowed pompously and adjusted his spectacles. He talked with Sir Ernest and it became evident that Blessingwood was the official who acted as contact with the banking house that had financed Rudlow’s. Finally, Sir Ernest ended the conversation and pointed to the money bag in the corner.

“Two hundred thousand pounds are waiting,” he stated quietly. “It would be best to place the funds in the vault.”

“At once!” agreed Craybaw. “Through my office, please. The vault connects with it.”

Blessingwood went with Craybaw, followed by the guards who carried the money. Lewsham also went to see the installation of the funds. Delka spoke to Harry.

“I am lunching with Mr. Craybaw,” stated the Scotland Yard man. “If you wish to remain in case we hear from Mr. Cranston, you are quite welcome to come with us.”

“Thank you,” rejoined Harry. “I appreciate the invitation.”

When Craybaw returned, Delka introduced Harry and mentioned the matter of The Shadow’s absence.

Craybaw started to express concern regarding his friend Cranston; but Delka assured him that all was probably well. They went out to lunch, leaving Chief Lewsham in charge of the office. Sir Ernest and Blessingwood went out together.

It was after one o’clock when they completed luncheon. Harry had gained a chance to chat with Craybaw; he noted that except for short spells of absentmindedness, the man seemed to behave in normal fashion. It was plain, however, that Delka intended to stay close to Craybaw.

Craybaw had taken Delka and Harry to a restaurant close by Piccadilly Circus. When they came out, they walked through Piccadilly and Craybaw stopped in front of a shop that advertised travel goods. He suggested that they enter.

“I am going to the Riviera,” Craybaw remarked. “I need a rest for my health. New luggage is the first requisite toward correct travel. I shall need a steamer trunk and a stout pigskin kit bag.”

Craybaw purchased both articles. He ordered the salesman to ship the steamer trunk to Tunbridge Wells. The pigskin kit bag, however, was another matter.

“A masterpiece in leather!” expressed Craybaw. “We shall carry it with us in the motor cab. Sir Ernest shall see it; and Blessingwood, also. Gad! They will be envious!”

WHEN they reached Rudlow’s, Craybaw strode into the conference room and proudly exhibited the pigskin bag. He classed it as a bargain at ten guineas, a price which Sir Ernest agreed was reasonable.

When Craybaw went into his private office, he carried the bag with him and placed it on a corner table, beyond his desk.

Delka had made inquiry to learn if word had come from Lamont Cranston. Learning that none had been received, the C.I.D. man made a suggestion to Harry Vincent. He decided that it would be best for Harry to go back to the Addingham Hotel and await word there.

Before Harry could produce a pretext for remaining at Rudlow’s, an interruption came to save him the trouble.

Two Scotland Yard men entered the conference room, accompanying a stocky, nervous-faced man who was carrying a satchel. Introduced to Sidney Lewsham, this arrival expressed relief. He was glad to see the chief constable of the C.I.D.

“I am Dawson Canonby,” he explained. “My own conveyance is outside; and my guards were with me. I left them on the street when I met your men, chief.”

“You have brought valuables with you?”

“Yes. Currency. A quarter of a million, in this bag. As purchase money for the gems owned by the Rajah of Delapore.”

Justin Craybaw had come from his office. He had heard the final remarks. His eyes gazed sharply toward Canonby’s satchel.

“Money for the gems?” queried Craybaw. “But where is the Rajah of Delapore?”

“He will be here shortly,” replied Canonby. “He called me from his hotel.”

A boy was knocking at the door of the conference room to announce that the Rajah of Delapore had arrived.

Dressed in Hindu attire, the rajah made his appearance, followed by his two servants. He bowed in greeting; then beckoned to Barkhir, who produced a small package.

“The jewels,” explained the rajah. “You have seen them before, Mr. Canonby.”

“Of course,” returned Canonby, his tone nervous.

“But you must see them again,” assured the rajah. He opened the package and showed a square teakwood box. “They are here for your inspection.”

Canonby opened the box and began to count over the gems, mumbling as he did so. The others looked on, wondering somewhat about the jeweler’s haste. None, however, recognized that the jewels might be imitations, with the possible exception of Justin Craybaw.

The managing director was eyeing the jewels keenly and Harry noted it. Canonby completed his inspection, dumped jewels back into the box and closed the lid. He lifted the satchel and handed it to the rajah.

“Not heavy,” remarked Canonby, with a wan smile, “but that is because I acquired notes of high denomination. A quarter of a million, your excellency. Shall I count the money in your presence?”

“Mr. Craybaw can do that,” returned the rajah, indifferently. “The money will soon belong to Rudlow, Limited.”

Canonby turned to Lewsham.

“My men will guard my return journey,” said the jeweler. “If your officers will accompany me to the street, I shall not be in danger.”

Lewsham gave an order to two Scotland Yard men. They went out with Dawson Canonby.

CRAYBAW and Blessingwood were counting the money while Sir Ernest watched them. The bundles of crisp notes totaled two hundred and fifty thousand pounds. The count finished, Craybaw turned to the Rajah of Delapore.

“Your excellency,” he stated, “when I called you this morning, I supposed that we would have heard from Lionel Selbrock before noon. Unfortunately, we have not. Therefore, we must hold the transaction until we know where he is.”

“The delay will not matter,” returned the rajah.

“It might so far as this money is concerned,” objected Craybaw, seriously, “unless you wish me to place the funds in the vault. Rudlow, Limited, is willing to assume responsibility. We can give you full receipt for two hundred and fifty thousand pounds.”

“That will be satisfactory.”

Craybaw went into his office and produced a receipt form. He sent it to be typed; it came back a few minutes later. Craybaw passed it to Blessingwood.

“You may sign it,” he said.

“But I am not the managing director,” exclaimed Blessingwood. “That is your office, Craybaw.”

“This blank bears the name ‘comptroller,’” stated Craybaw. “I meant to bring one of my own; but I picked out this disused form instead. You are the comptroller, Blessingwood. You have sufficient authority to sign. Others will witness the receipt.”

Blessingwood nodded and picked up a pen. He sat down at the table and signed the receipt. Sir Ernest Jennup was nodding, apparently decided that the procedure was in order. He took the pen to affix his signature as a witness.

Craybaw remarked that he would place the money in the vault. In casual fashion, he picked up the satchel and walked from the conference room into his office. He let the door swing shut behind him.

Other witnessing signatures were needed, so Lewsham ordered Delka to add his name below Sir Ernest’s. Lewsham, himself, signed third.

While the ink was drying, Craybaw returned from his office. He began to chat with the rajah; then suddenly returned through the door to the other room. He came back, carrying the pigskin bag that he had purchased. He was holding it between both hands, in front of him, to give the bag better display.

“Look at this sample of British workmanship,” remarked Craybaw, proudly. “Have you ever seen its equal, your excellency? This is the finest pigskin you—”

The rajah stepped back, withdrawing his hand before he touched the bag. His action was as quick as if he had encountered a flame. Barkhir and Sanghar dropped back toward a corner. Craybaw stood still.

“We are Mohammedans,” explained the rajah, politely, “myself and my servants. To us, the pig is unclean. I admire the bag, Mr. Craybaw, but I cannot touch it.”

“My apologies—”

“They are unnecessary. You did not know the circumstances.”

Craybaw placed the offending bag on a table in the corner of the conference room. The rajah picked up the receipt from Rudlow, Limited, and folded it. Craybaw sat down in a corner by the table. Lewsham opened conversation with the rajah.

“There was a report at the office,” said Lewsham, “concerning an attempted robbery at your apartment. I understand that nothing was taken, however.”

“We thwarted the intruder,” declared the rajah, with a smile. “Unfortunately, he escaped us. He was probably seeking my jewels. He did not find them.”

“You have no clue to his identity?”

“None whatever.”

HARRY was facing Craybaw while the others talked. He saw the managing director open the door and carry out the pigskin bag. He placed it in the custody of an office boy. Delka glanced toward the door and noticed Craybaw returning. Meeting Delka’s gaze, Craybaw half closed his eyes.

“I feel the chill returning,” he said to Delka. “I feel that the strain is becoming too much for me. I should not have come in town at all. I dread the train trip back to Tunbridge Wells.”

Sir Ernest overheard the remark.

“I shall carry you there in my car,” he declared. “The motor trip may improve you. The day has turned mild; and we can make a rapid journey in the phaeton.”

Craybaw nodded his thanks. He steadied himself, for the rajah was preparing to leave.

“I shall return,” declared his excellency, “as soon as I have heard from you, Mr. Craybaw.”

“That will not be necessary,” stated Craybaw. “When Selbrock arrives, we shall have him sign the documents at once. We shall bring the options to your apartment.”

“Very well.”

The rajah left with his servants. Craybaw walked slowly back into his office, then slumped into the chair behind the desk. He had left the door open; the others saw his action. Sir Ernest entered the inner office.

“You are ill, Craybaw,” insisted Sir Ernest. Delka and Lewsham had joined him. “Come. You must return to your home.”

“But if Selbrock comes!” gasped Craybaw. “His options must be attested—”

“I can take charge of that,” inserted Blessingwood, who had also entered. “As comptroller, the duty comes within my province.”

Craybaw nodded. Reaching for Delka’s shoulder, he drew himself up from the desk. Sir Ernest added support. Craybaw steadied and walked slowly through the conference room. Delka stopped to speak to Harry.

“I must go with Mr. Craybaw,” said the C.I.D. man. “I shall call you at the Addingham, when we hear from Mr. Cranston.”

There was only one alternative. Harry took it. He left the office and preceded the others to the street. But when he had crossed Threadneedle, he waited and watched. He saw Craybaw come out with Delka and Sir Ernest.

The phaeton had been summoned from the garage. The three men entered it, Delka going in back with Craybaw. Then the office boy appeared, lugging Craybaw’s newly purchased pigskin bag. Harry watched him place it in the front seat beside Sir Ernest.

Something in the boy’s action caught Harry’s eye. The hoist when the bag went over the door seemed more than necessary for so light an object. Just as the phaeton pulled away, the answer struck Harry.

Chance had given him a thought that had occurred to no one else.

That bag was not empty! Craybaw had carried it as though it was. He had said nothing; however, to the office boy regarding emptiness. True, the bag had been empty when Craybaw had carried it to the office; but it was empty no longer. Harry knew what it contained.

Two stores of wealth! Cash intended for Selbrock; funds brought by the Rajah of Delapore! There was only one explanation. The Harvester, clever at disguise, was playing the part of Justin Craybaw! He had taken the place of the managing director of Rudlow, Limited.

The Harvester had not placed the money in the vault. He had put it in the bag. He was making away with it, deceiving Sir Ernest Jennup and Eric Delka.

Harry’s course was to call The Shadow; he realized suddenly that it would be impossible. He did not know where The Shadow was.

One other possibility, only. That was to inform Sidney Lewsham, in hope that the chief constable might act. First a call to the Moravia, in the wild hope that The Shadow might be there. Then back to Rudlow’s, to see Lewsham.

Such was the course that Harry Vincent took as duty, not knowing whether or not he would injure The Shadow’s plans. But in this emergency, he could think of but one purpose. That was to defeat the game that The Harvester had played.