The London Crimes

CHAPTER IX. SOUTH OF LONDON

JUSTIN CRAYBAW’S home was a pretentious country residence, situated close to Tunbridge Wells.

Past the suburban belt, it was almost a spot of rural England. The house, though large and modern, had all the isolation of a rustic abode, for it was surrounded by spacious grounds, with high hedges along the traveled roadway.

Long driveway formed entry to the grounds; and on the far side of the house was a conservatory that overlooked a secluded, rolling lawn. It was in this room where the four assembled after dinner, to smoke their cigars and to discuss the matter that was their chief concern.

“Chief Lewsham,” began Sir Ernest, “we are exceedingly alarmed by the activities of this rogue you term The Harvester. I, for one, was more than annoyed to learn that he impersonated myself. To me, that fact stands as a warning that we may expect to hear from him again.”

“His tool, Captain Darryat, was close to the Rajah of Delapore,” added Craybaw, seriously. “For that matter, The Harvester contacted with Lionel Selbrock also. Those facts show us that The Harvester may be planning a new and more potent game.”

Lewsham nodded slowly.

“I believe that you are right,” he decided. “The Harvester has not reaped sufficient spoils. A rogue of his ilk will never cease until he has gained a final triumph. He is as dangerous as ever.”

“Not quite,” put in The Shadow, in the easy tone of Cranston. “He is handicapped by his sacrifice of a chief lieutenant, Captain Darryat.”

“But he may have others,” objected Lewsham. “Some one could work in place of Darryat.”

“Hardly so,” stated The Shadow. “If The Harvester had possessed another competent lieutenant, he would not have played Darryat as his regular trump card.”

The statement impressed Lewsham. It was logical and it came as a ray of hope. The Shadow, however, was prompt to squelch the chief constable’s glee.

“The Harvester has become a lone hand,” emphasized The Shadow. “He possesses underlings, certainly; but none above the class of thugs. Without Darryat, The Harvester is less dangerous. But he may prove to be more slippery.”

“Because Darryat’s death has destroyed our only link!” exclaimed Lewsham. “You are right, Mr. Cranston! We shall have no clue to The Harvester until he himself reveals his final part.”

“Which he will do,” predicted The Shadow, “after he gains the spoils that he is seeking. Yet even after he has struck, he will prove slippery.”

SIR ERNEST was tugging at his Vandyke beard, puzzled by words which The Shadow had uttered.

“You speak of spoils,” remarked Sir Ernest. “Just what spoils do you mean? Selbrock’s options or the rajah’s jewels?”

“Either,” replied The Shadow, “or both. Perhaps he has designs on other wealth. Suppose you tell me, Sir Ernest, just what precautions have been taken to keep The Harvester from meddling with this coming transaction?”

“Mr. Craybaw can answer that question,” returned Sir Ernest. “While I and others are the ones who have financed Rudlow, Limited, we have placed full control in the hands of our managing director.”

“A responsibility which I have accepted,” smiled Craybaw, “and which I recognized.” Then, solemnly, he added: “And my position, moreover, is a matter which must be fully discussed tonight. That is why I wanted you here, Chief Lewsham.”

Lewsham nodded. He, too, was serious.

“Let me summarize the situation,” continued Craybaw. “To-day I talked by telephone with Selbrock. I told him that we were ready to take over his options. Because I had already heard from the Rajah of Delapore. His gems will be sold tomorrow.”

Sir Ernest nodded to indicate that he had already heard this news from Craybaw.

“Our agreement with Selbrock,” resumed Craybaw, “is a most peculiar one. Many of its provisions are awkward, yet all are clear. Selbrock appears to be a poor hand at business; hence we thought it best to comply with any oddities that he requested.

“The agreement, for instance, calls for payment in specie. To clarify that condition, I have arranged to pay with Bank of England notes to the sum total of two hundred thousand pounds. That money should be in the office of Rudlow, Limited, by noon tomorrow.”

“It will be,” assured Sir Ernest, with an emphatic gesture. “It will come by armored vehicle, with guards in attendance. To be placed in the vault which adjoins your office, Craybaw. You will be protected every minute while the money is there.”

“A wise procedure,” nodded Craybaw. “Wise, for a second reason, also. Since Selbrock was to be paid in specie, the agreement which I drew up with the Rajah of Delapore called for him to pay in similar wise. He is to produce a quarter million of currency.”

“Then we must protect him, also?”

“No. The rajah has insisted that he can take measures of his own. It is not our affair, Sir Ernest. If the rajah should ask for protection, it would be our duty to provide it. As the situation stands, we cannot interfere.”

A pause; then Lewsham asked:

“Do I understand, Mr. Craybaw, that you also request protection on the part of Scotland Yard?”

“Absolutely,” replied Craybaw. “The presence of your competent men will be most welcome. The armored cars will be needed afterward, to carry back to bank the money that we received from the rajah.”

“WOULD it be possible,” queried The Shadow, “to pay Selbrock with money that the rajah provides?”

“The directors considered that plan,” stated Craybaw. “It appeared to be a good one, because it would have obviated the need of bringing our own funds from bank. Unfortunately, the agreements had already been drawn up and signed. Therefore, we could scarcely change our method.

“As intermediaries in this transaction, Rudlow, Limited, must first purchase Selbrock’s options in order to make the sale to the Rajah of Delapore. Therefore, to avoid technical dispute, we must show the sum of two hundred thousand pounds. Which means that if the rajah appears at the same time as Selbrock, there will actually be the two sums in our office. A grand total of four hundred and fifty thousand pounds.”

“Which The Harvester would like to get,” gritted Lewsham. “That is when the danger will arise. Tomorrow, when the deal is made. By the way, who knows about this arrangement, other than the directors of Rudlow, Limited?”

“Selbrock knows,” replied Craybaw. “So does the rajah. And, of course, the latter’s secretary, Ranworthy.”

“What was it you mentioned about Selbrock this afternoon?” queried Lewsham, as if recalling something that he had heard. “Was he going out of town?”

“For the evening, yes,” replied Craybaw. “He will return tomorrow. He sent a brief message from his hotel. He intended to visit some old friend.”

“Odd of him to leave London at so vital a time.”

“Hardly so. He knows that the transaction will not take place early in the day. The options merely await his signature.”

“And what about the rajah?”

“Either he or his secretary can sign any necessary papers. After the rajah has paid the money, the options will be his.”

A pause; then The Shadow quietly remarked:

“Ranworthy has gone to Yarmouth.”

“To Yarmouth?” echoed Craybaw. “Why there, at this season?”

“To visit a relative who is ill there.”

“I see. Then he may not be back tomorrow.”

“Possibly not.”

The sound of the starting of an automobile motor came from in front of the house. Craybaw glanced at his watch.

“It is Cuthbert, starting for the station,” he stated. “To bring back Inspector Delka. The train is due there shortly. It is twenty minutes before nine. I told Delka to leave the train at High Brooms, which is quite as near as Tunbridge Wells. I always have Cuthbert meet the trains at High Brooms.”

CONVERSATION was resumed. A clock was chiming the hour of nine when a servant appeared at the door from the house. It was Craybaw’s house man, Hervey.

“Nine o’clock, sir,” informed Hervey.

“Well?” queried Craybaw.

“You told me to speak to you at nine,” replied Hervey. “You did not state the reason why.”

“Forgetful of me!” exclaimed Craybaw. “I recall now that I intended to run over to Hayward’s Heath in the coupe. To deliver a parcel which I brought from the city. I chanced to remember that it will be my nephew’s birthday, tomorrow. After all, the matter is unimportant, unless—”

Craybaw glanced at his watch.

“I have it,” he decided. “Your train, Mr. Cranston, leaves High Brooms at half past nine. We shall take the coupe as soon as Cuthbert arrives with Delka. Then I can run to Hayward’s Heath and back, after leaving you at the station.”

Rising, Craybaw motioned toward the door to the house.

“We must be ready with our hats and coats,” he reminded. “Time will be short after Cuthbert returns. We shall join you later, gentlemen.”

Craybaw and The Shadow walked through a living room and entered a small study which was equipped with desk, bookcases, and a small safe. Hervey brought the hats and coats, while Craybaw was consulting a road map.

“Not far to Hayward’s Heath,” he declared, pointing out the road to The Shadow. “To High Brooms; then back again. Hm-m-m. I can have Cuthbert take you to the station, then return and bring the car to me. It would be best for me to remain with the other guests.”

Hervey had gone out. He came in to bring word that Cuthbert had arrived with Delka. Craybaw urged The Shadow to hasten; they reached the front door to find Delka alighting with Lewsham and Sir Ernest there to greet him.

Craybaw explained the new arrangement. The Shadow entered the car with Cuthbert and they headed for High Brooms.

IN the dimness of the coupe, The Shadow observed Cuthbert’s face. The chauffeur was a methodical, honest-visaged fellow, who stared steadily along the road. They reached High Brooms with minutes to spare, thanks to Cuthbert’s capable and speedy handling of the car.

The Shadow alighted. Cuthbert backed the coupe. While he was doing so, The Shadow, pausing in a spot away from the station lights, was quick to open a light briefcase that he had brought along with him from the hotel.

Black cloth came from the case. A cloak slipped over The Shadow’s shoulders. A slouch hat settled on his head. His hands stuffed his own light overcoat partly into the briefcase, along with the hat that he had been wearing. With a toss, The Shadow skimmed the burden along the soft ground beneath a clump of hedgelike bushes.

Cuthbert was sliding into low gear, about to drive away from the station. A being in black, his figure obscured by darkness, The Shadow sprang across the gravel unheard by Cuthbert because of the grinding gears. With a quick leap, The Shadow gained the rear of the coupe.

Clinging there, he pressed flat against the cover of the rumble seat, riding unseen on the return journey, through hedge-flanked lanes where traffic was absent. The Shadow was making a prompt return to the home of Justin Craybaw.

Despite the fact that he had claimed an appointment in London, The Shadow had found a reason to remain a while in the vicinity of Tunbridge Wells!