“That simplifies matters considerably,” he said quietly. “It reduces it to the old odds of Peterson and me.”
“But you’ll go to the police, old man,” cried Algy. “You won’t pay any attention to that message. He’ll never know that you haven’t come straight to him.”
Drummond laughed shortly. “Have you forgotten the rules so much, Algy, that you think that? Look out of the window, man, only don’t be seen. There’s a fellow watching the house now—I couldn’t go a yard without Peterson knowing. Moreover I’m open to a small bet that he knew I was in the house when he was talking to Ted. Good heavens! No. Peterson is not the sort of man to play those monkey-tricks with. He’s got Phyllis, the whole thing is his show. And if I went to the police, long before they could bring it home to him, or get her back—she’d be—why—”—and once again the veins stood out on his forehead—”Lord knows what the swine wouldn’t have done to her. It’s just a barter at the present moment—the diamonds against her. And there’s going to be no haggling. They win the first round—but there are a few more on the horizon.”
“What are you going to do?” said Ted.
“Exactly what he suggests,” answered Hugh. “Go round and see him at the Ritz—now, at once. I shan’t take the diamonds with me, but there will be no worry over the exchange as far as I’m concerned. It’s just like his dirty method of fighting to go for a girl,” he finished savagely.
“You don’t think they’ve hurt Mrs. Drummond, sir,” said Denny anxiously.
“If they have, they’ll find the remains of an elderly parson in Piccadilly,” returned Hugh, as he slipped a small revolver into his pocket. “But I don’t think so. Carl is far too wise to do anything so stupid as that. He’s tried with the hunchback and failed, now he’s trying this. And he wins.” He crossed to the door and opened it. “In case I don’t come back by six, the diamonds are in my sponge bag in the bathroom—and go straight to Scotland Yard. Tell Tum-tum the whole yarn.”
With a brief nod he was gone, and a moment later he was in the street. It was almost deserted, and he waited on the pavement for the loitering gentleman who came obsequiously forward. “Taxi, sir?”
A convenient one—an almost too convenient one—came to a standstill beside them, and Hugh noticed a quick look flash between the driver and the other man. Then he took stock of the taxi, and behold it was not quite as other taxis. And in his mind arose an unholy desire. As has been said, the street was nearly deserted, and it was destined to become even more deserted. There was a crash of breaking glass and the loiterer disappeared through one window of the machine.
Hugh stared at the astounded driver.
“If you say one word, you appalling warthog,” he remarked gently, “I’ll throw you through the other.”
It was a happy omen, and he felt better as he walked towards the Ritz. Simple and direct—that was the game. No more tortuous intrigues for him; hit first and apologise afterwards. And he was still in the same mood when he was shown into the sitting-room where the Reverend Theodosius Longmoor was busily working on Austrian famine accounts. He rose as Hugh entered, and his daughter, still knitting busily, gave him a charming girlish smile.
“Ah! my dear young friend,” began Mr. Longmoor, “I see you’ve had my message.”
“Yes,” answered Hugh affably, “I was standing next door to the fellow you were talking to. But before we come to business, so to speak—I must really ask you not to send Snooks round again. I don’t like him. Why, my dear Carl, I preferred our late lamented Henry Lakington.”
There was a moment of dead silence, during which the Reverend Theodosius stared at him speechlessly and the busy knitter ceased to knit. The shock was so complete and sudden that even Carl Peterson seemed at a loss, and Drummond laughed gently as he took a chair.
“I’m tired of this dressing-up business, Carl,” he remarked in the same affable voice. “And it’s so stupid to go on pretending when everybody knows. So I thought we might as well have all the cards on the table. Makes the game much easier.”
He selected a cigarette with care, and offered his case to the girl.
“My most hearty congratulations, mademoiselle,” he continued. “I may say that it was not you I recognised, but your dear—it is father still, isn’t it? And now that we’ve all met again you must tell me some time how you got away last year.”
But by this time the clergyman had found his voice. “Are you mad, sir?” he spluttered. “Are you insane? How dare you come into this room and insult my daughter and myself? I shall ring the bell, sir, and have you removed.”
He strode across the room, and Drummond watched him calmly. “I’ve just called one bluff this afternoon, Carl,” he said lazily. “Now I’ll call another. Go on, push the bell. Send for the police and say I’ve insulted you. Go and see dear old Tum-tum yourself: he’ll be most awfully braced at meeting you.”
The other’s hand fell slowly to his side, and he looked at his daughter with a resigned expression in his face.
“Really, my dear, I think that the heat—or perhaps—” He paused expressively, and Drummond laughed.
“You were always a good actor, Carl, but is it worth while? There are no witnesses here, and I’m rather pressed for time. There’s no good pretending that it’s the heat or that I’m tight, because I’m the only member of the audience, and you can’t deceive me, you really can’t. Through a series of accidents you have become aware of the fact that I am the leader of the Black Gang. You can go and tell the police if you like—in fact, that horrible little man who came round to see me threatened to do so. But, if you do so, I shall tell them who you are, and I shall also inform them of the secret history of the bomb. So that, though it will be awkward for me, Carl, it will be far more awkward for you and Mademoiselle Irma; and it will be positively unhealthy for Snooks. You take me so far, don’t you? Up to date I have been dealing in certainties; now we come to contingencies. It strikes me that there are two doubtful points, old friend of my youth—just two. And those two points are the whereabouts respectively of my wife and your diamonds. Now, Carl, do we talk business or not?”
“My dear young man,” said the other resignedly, “I intended to talk business with you when you arrived if you had given me a chance. But as you’ve done nothing but talk the most unmitigated drivel since you’ve come into the room I haven’t had a chance. You appear obsessed with this absurd delusion that I am some person called Carl, and—But where are you going?”
Drummond paused at the door.
“I am going straight to Scotland Yard. I shall there tell Sir Bryan Johnstone the whole story from A to Z, at the same time handing him a little bag containing diamonds which has recently come into my possession.”
“You admit you’ve got them,” snapped the other, letting the mask drop for a moment.
“That’s better, Carl—much better.” Drummond came back into the room. “I admit I’ve got them—but they’re in a place where you can never find them, and they will remain there until six o’clock tonight, when they go straight to Scotland Yard—unless, Carl—unless my wife is returned to me absolutely unscathed and unhurt before that hour. It is five o’clock now.”
“And if she is returned—what then?”
“You shall have the diamonds.”
For a space the two men stared at one another in silence, and it was the girl who finally spoke.
“What proof have we that you’ll keep your word?”
“Common sense,” said Hugh quietly. “My wife is somewhat more valuable to me