The tramp had been escorted to a kitchen at the rear of the premises by the big, bearded man. He had been given a seat at a table; a glass and several bottles of beer placed before him. There seemed no doubt that Karen had developed a liking for the little man and had every intention of treating him well. The tramp’s eyes had gleamed at sight of the bottles. Without waiting for an invitation he had opened one and had proceeded to drink from it without bothering to use the glass. His escort had been greatly amused at this, and had nodded with genial approval. Apparently he spoke no English at all. Nevertheless he and the little man, with whom he presented such a striking contrast, had contrived to become quite friendly over the drinking bout that followed. By the time Karen appeared, to inform his ragged guest that he was ready to resume their game, the bottles were empty. The tramp looked blissfully happy, though his drunkenness had not increased to any marked extent. He was obviously of the genre that, once intoxicated, can go on drinking without any appreciable difference to his degree of drunkenness. It is true his legs seemed inclined to refuse their function but, with the help of the hunchback and the other man, who turned out to be Ivan, hitherto described by Karen as his servant, he was taken back to the room where he and the Russian had already played the great game of Noughts and Crosses. Karen regarded him anxiously as he fell rather than sat in a chair.
‘I hope you are not too mooch bad to again play?’ he observed.
‘Too bad – me?’ returned the tramp. ‘Not on y’r life. I’m all ri’ – quite all ri’.’ He cast a bleary look at the couch. ‘Tha’s goo’,’ he commented, ‘dir’y aris’crats gone ’way. Goo’ rid’nce bad rub’sh. Don’ know wha’ you wan’ bring in tripe like tha’ fer.’
‘You’re quite right, my frien’. They were no good. It was stupid for me to be kind to them. Well, they have go home. Come! We will forget them and play – huh?’
‘Tha’s ri – we’ll play – an’ wha’s more, I’m goin’ beat yer – see?’
The diagram was drawn on the slate, and the two settled down solemnly to continue their absurd game. An hour passed by, and still they were at it. They had hardly spoken, except to utter exclamations or grunts of pleasure or disgust, according to the manner in which the games went. Karen continued to win the greater number though, despite his condition, the tramp proved a doughty opponent until, at last, after mumbling drowsily and incoherently, he suddenly collapsed over the slate and fell asleep. The hunchback regarded his tousled head for a few moments then, with a sigh, rose to his feet. Crossing to the door, he summoned his confederates. They came, looking very much as though they themselves had been taking a nap. Karen addressed them in Russian.
‘It is a long time since I have had an evening so pleasant,’ he declared. ‘The leetle man plays the game like an expert. He must be marvellous, amazing, when he is sober. At last I have found a worthy opponent, only to lose him again. It is a great pity. I wish it were possible always to keep him with me. Fools that you are; why cannot you have brains, and learn to play like him?’
‘What are you going to do with him, Nicholas?’ asked the man with the broken nose, who rejoiced (or otherwise) in the name of Ilitch Gortschakoff.
‘Unfortunately, he must be returned to the streets. It would be too risky to make him a member of our brotherhood, although the sentiments he has expressed show him to be in sympathy with us. His kind talk a lot, but lack courage.’
‘Perhaps the police will make him tell about the man and woman,’ observed Ivan Keremsky. ‘They are certain to find out about him and the car and how you invited the two to come in here.’
‘He is too drunk to remember much, but what does it matter? We will not be here, and who can trace us? You will drive us to the Haven, Ivan. Afterwards, you will take the car to the other side of London, and hide it so that it cannot be found for a day or two. I would like to keep it, but alas! It would be dangerous even to alter it. The police of this country are very clever, and we must make no stupid mistakes.’
‘What becomes of the man and woman?’ asked Gortschakoff.
Karen’s face twisted into an evil smile.
‘When we have the money, we will kill them,’ he replied. ‘It is easy at the Haven – eh?’
The others grinned. The man with the protruding teeth, however, seemed uneasy.
‘I do not quite understand this affair,’ he confessed. ‘How did you find these people and how did you know they have so much money?’
‘Did I not explain, when I told Ivan to clean the car?’ replied Karen impatiently. ‘You, Leon Turgenev, have not the brains of a mouse. I was returning here, and saw the little man enjoying himself. You know the passion I have for Noughts and Crosses! I stood watching him. I was about to address him, when along came the man and the girl. They became angry, because he was using their beautiful car for such a purpose. I soon formed the opinion that they were wealthy – it is easy to tell – and I thought it would be good if I could lure them in here, and afterwards force them to assist our depleted funds. It was less difficult than I expected, the little man unconsciously assisting me by his attitude towards them. Him I brought in, because I saw that, at last, I could enjoy my beautiful game with a worthy opponent. I greatly regret the necessity of parting from him.’
‘I think it would be safer to kill him also,’ remarked Turgenev.
Karen suddenly flew into a rage.
‘Kill that poor little man!’ he snarled. ‘Be careful, Turgenev. I do not kill those who please me. Enough; it is time we went. Is everything packed and ready?’
He was answered in the affirmative, and ordered them to carry out to the car the baggage and other articles they intended taking with them. He also instructed them to keep a watch for the police constable on beat. Keremsky and Gortschakoff departed at once, but Leon Turgenev lingered behind.
‘I am not easy in my mind over this scheme of yours, Nicholas,’ he confided. ‘In my opinion it is perilous. I do not see how you can expect to obtain such a large sum of money from a bank without trouble.’
‘Will I not have a letter from the manager, fool? I shall represent myself as a hotel proprietor in the confidence of the young man. I will say he and the woman have run away to be married secretly, and they are hiding from their friends in my little hotel. The letter will support me. Is that not a simple plan?’
A slow smile exaggerated the perpetual grin on the other’s face.
‘You are clever, Nicholas,’ he admitted. ‘It is a good scheme.’
‘Of course it is a good scheme. Always you are full of doubts of every plan. Never was there a greater pessimist than you, Leon Turgenev. Sometimes, I feel the brotherhood might do better without you. It is fortunate we are so few, and you are necessary to us.’
His words and the tone in which he uttered them caused Turgenev’s sallow face to grow pallid. There was no mistaking the threat. Nicholas Karen, he knew, did not stop at half measures, even with his own comrades, if it suited his purpose to remove them. Without another word, Turgenev hurriedly left the room. The hunchback smiled sardonically at the door he had closed behind him; turned once again to the sleeping tramp. Had there been an onlooker acquainted with the cold-blooded nature of the man, he would have been astonished by the expression showing now on Karen’s pain-twisted face. He regarded the dilapidated individual, snoring away in such drunken fashion, with extremely friendly, almost affectionate eyes. There was a note of genuine regret in his voice as he murmured:
‘You have given me pleasure and, for that, deserve well of me. I shall always be very sorry I had to let you go.’
He sighed; turned away, and walked towards the door.
He stood there for some moments, reflectively looking back at the tramp; then, shrugging his shoulders, went out of the room. It is difficult to explain such matters, but it is quite within the bounds of reason that his very disability was responsibility for this love of a brutal scoundrel for the very childish game of Noughts and Crosses. Obviously he was not a normal human being; nobody with a character as cruel and ruthless as his could be. Who knows but that the gibes and sneers he received as a youngster, on account of that broken back of his, had resulted in a boy who, otherwise, might have grown into a decent and kindly man, becoming embittered, and consequently developing into the monster Nicholas Karen undoubtedly was? He had been thrown back upon himself for his own amusements, and one of those, the game of Noughts and Crosses, the delight of his childhood, had developed into the passion of the man. It seems ridiculous, but the fact remains. Possibly he found something deeper, more scientific, in the game than most people who try it. At all events, he invariably won with the greatest ease, against those whom he persuaded to match their wits against his. It is hardly to be wondered at, therefore, that, when he came upon a man who, though drunk, proved almost his equal, he conceived an affection for that man. Nicholas Karen was genuinely sorry to part from the tramp.
Several minutes went by after he had left the room, and the filthy, wretched-looking creature, sprawled in ungainly fashion over the table, continued to snore drunkenly. Then the ugly sounds ceased abruptly, the tramp raised his unkempt head, and gazed round him.
‘They told me a lot,’ he mused, ‘but not enough. There’s only one thing for it; I’ll have to follow them to this place called the Haven. The question is how!’ An expression of disgust caused the much wrinkled face to screw up ludicrously as he contemplated his ragged garments. ‘“If dirt were trumps”,’ he quoted, ‘“what a capital hand you would hold!”’
His sharp ears caught a sound outside the door, and promptly he resumed his former position, but this time did not snore. General Cousins, of the British Secret Service, was too experienced a hand to make such a mistake. Someone may have been listening, whereupon the sudden resumption of snoring would have been quite sufficient to rouse suspicion. Into the room stepped Leon Turgenev. He moved quietly, as though he were fearful of being heard. Regarding the sprawling form of the tramp for a moment, his grinning mouth looking even more repulsive than usual, on account of the sneer turning down the corners of the lips, he appeared to make up his mind. Softly crossing to the table, he caught hold of the apparently unconscious man by the hair and, lifting the head, gazed long and searchingly at the face. The little man moved uneasily, muttered something unintelligible, but did not open his eyes. Turgenev seemed satisfied; let the head drop back on to the arms. He then commenced a rapid search of the clothing. None of the pockets were intact, but receptacles had been fashioned by the simple expedient of using safety pins to repair the deficiency. From these came a weird conglomeration of articles that had obviously been taken from dustbins. There was nothing a tramp might not be expected to possess, but everything conceivable, from a piece of string to a broken and rusty table knife, of which such an individual would make use with the ingenuity of his kind.
Turgenev did not actually suspect him to be other than a thoroughly disreputable and drunken hobo, but the Russian was an extremely cautious fellow and not so ready to accept outward impressions as his comrades. He knew that the very fact of the little man being an exponent of Karen’s beloved game was enough to unbalance the latter’s judgement. It was for that reason he had taken it upon himself to search his leader’s tattered guest. However, all he came upon was simply proof that the man was nothing more or less than his appearance proclaimed, and Turgenev was completely reassured. He replaced the articles he had taken from their receptacles, and presently departed from the room as quietly as he had come, but far more easy in mind. Nevertheless, although he never knew it, he had been within an ace of receiving most unpleasant confirmation that his search was justified. Pinned inside Cousin’s left sleeve, underneath his upper arm, was a fully loaded automatic. With his arms thrown across the table, he was resting on it, but once when Turgenev was feeling in his garments, the Russian’s fingers reached within an inch or so of its butt. Had he found it, his suspicions would have been completely roused, but the little Englishman would never have allowed him to give the alarm. It is certain he would have destroyed him rather than that the painstaking planning and searching of weeks should have been brought to naught.
Cousins remained as he was, waiting for events to shape themselves. He knew he would soon be dismissed, when he intended, by some means or other, to accompany or follow the Russians to their other hiding place, which Karen had called the Haven. He would have liked to have searched the house in which he then was, but that could be left to others; besides, he did not anticipate that anything of an incriminating nature would be found there. Karen and his associates would naturally remove everything that might help to condemn them. The minutes went by; then abruptly the door opened again, and he heard the entry of several people.
‘There is nothing further to detain us,’ observed Karen’s voice. ‘You, Ivan and also you, Ilitch, go to Paul and help him carry the man and woman out to the car. See that they are well gagged first. They are to be placed on the floor inside and covered with a rug. You will have to wedge them in as best you can – double them up if necessary.’ He laughed cruelly. ‘I am afraid it will spoil mademoiselle’s dress, but that will not matter. Soon she will not need any dresses. Leon, go and make certain that nobody is about, then come back and help me carry the little man out to the square. It is better not to wake him. We will prop him up against the railings of the garden, and he can continue his sleep. If he remembers anything when he rouses and is sober, he will think he has been dreaming.’
Karen was left alone with the tramp, but this time was too much occupied to indulge in a repetition of his previous distress at parting from him. He carefully inspected the room to make certain there was nothing left about that might, in any way, afford a clue to the identity of him and his companions or reveal their purpose in London. He had rented the house in a fictitious name, and had described himself as a Frenchman from Bordeaux. The other four, with the help of forged passports, had entered England under various aliases and at ports widely apart.
Karen uttered an exclamation, as his eyes fell on Sonia Hardinge’s vanity case lying on the floor near the couch. It had fallen there and been overlooked. Being an evening bag, it contained only a compact, lipstick, a handkerchief and a purse containing a couple of pound notes and some silver. The Russian poured the money into his hand, eyed it reflectively for a few moments, then, with a smile, crossed to the sleeping tramp and, searching among his filthy garments, pushed a pound note into one of the safety-pinned receptacles. This act seemed to afford him a great deal of satisfaction. The rest of the money he pocketed, as well as the purse and vanity case. Turgenev came back to inform him that all was clear. The two then lifted between them the man who was apparently in such a deep slumber, carried him from the room and the house. They paused at the front door for some time to assure themselves further that there was nobody about to observe them. Satisfied, they crossed the deserted square to the garden, propped him up against the railings, and left him there.
Cousins waited until he was certain he was alone; then opened his eyes. He had been placed at a point equidistant between two lamps and in the deeper darkness thrown by the shadow of a large tree. He grunted with satisfaction, knowing that it was impossible for him to be seen, unless someone approached within a couple of yards of him. He felt fairly certain neither Karen, Turgenev nor their comrades would pay any further attention to him. For his part, he could see the house and car quite well, there being a lamp in the vicinity. Watching intently, he saw Sonia Hardinge carried out, followed a little later by Anstruther. The Russians almost ran from the house with them, in their haste to get them stowed quickly in the car before a policeman, or a belated pedestrian arrived on the scene. Cousins swore under his breath. Knowing Russian, he had, of course, understood all that had been said, and could picture to himself the cramped and unnatural manner in which the girl and man would be forced to travel. However, the Secret Service agent could spare no time to sympathise with them in their plight. He had other matters occupying his mind, chief of which was the manner in which he was to track the car to its destination. Having discovered so much, he was not going to spoil his good work by losing touch with the Russians now. A taxi was out of the question; first because, unless he was extremely lucky, the car would have departed before he could find one at that hour of the morning; secondly, no taxi would be capable of keeping up with a powerful Bentley full out; thirdly, the Russians would be almost certain to discover they were being followed at a time when traffic was at its lowest ebb. There was also the fact to be considered that, even were a taxi found before the other car departed, the driver would naturally jib at accepting an individual so disreputable as a fare, and precious moments would be lost while Cousins convinced him that he was not quite the tramp he looked.
The little man had already practically decided upon his only possible means of keeping in touch with his quarry. It was risky, and would be supremely uncomfortable, but such considerations did not bother him. On the luggage grid at the back of the car had been strapped several bags, obviously the Russians’ personal belongings. Cousins had made up his mind to add himself to them. The question that caused him anxiety was not the extreme precariousness of such a position, but whether, with his additional weight, the straps would hold. If they gave way, and he was left lying injured in the road surrounded by the bags, it would be small satisfaction for the loss of the men he was after. There was also the danger that he might be observed getting on or clinging there. However, that had to be risked.
The kidnapped couple had been jammed in with some trouble and doubtless much pain to themselves. Karen returned to the house. His distorted form was unmistakable. The lights were extinguished; the hunchback appeared again, carrying an object under his arm, which Cousins guessed, with a chuckle, to be the precious slate. He shut the front door, and entered the car. One of the others got in after him. The watcher reflected, muttering a curse on them, that they would be sitting with their legs resting on the prone and twisted forms of their victims. The remaining three crowded into the front seat. As they were settling themselves, the little Secret Service agent, as silently as a shadow, darted across the square. Fortunately the car was facing away from him; his chances of reaching it unobserved were, therefore, much greater than they otherwise would have been. No alarm was raised, and a little prayer of thanksgiving left his lips, as he clutched at the straps holding the bags in place. He had no time to test them for, at that moment, the car started. There was just sufficient space left on the grid for his feet. He sprang up, feeling, as he afterwards admitted, thoroughly scared for fear that everything would give way. However, the straps held, and he was there, clinging like a monkey, to a position that few monkeys would have relished.
As the Bentley gathered speed, he began to feel he would never be able to sustain such an attitude. The carrier jerked up and down, threatening every moment to dislodge his foothold, while his arms felt as though they were being torn from their sockets. He was forced to hang on in a stooping position for, had he straightened himself, his head would have appeared above the pile of suitcases, giving his presence away to any of the Russians who happened to glance through the little rear window of the car. It was an ordeal such as Cousins had never before suffered, and it is certain he will never forget it. The presence of an obvious tramp on the luggage carrier of a car, clinging precariously to a pile of suitcases, naturally excited great curiosity among the few people who saw him. It was extremely fortunate that it was an hour of the morning when London is at its quietest. The driver of a lorry, bringing his vehicle to a halt behind the Bentley at adverse traffic lights, called out warningly to him, one or two street cleaners further on flung ribald remarks at the grotesque figure, a policeman at Camden Town shouted. Whether the occupants of the car heard or not, Cousins could not tell. If they did, it is certain they missed the significance of the cries. The little Secret Service man was greatly relieved when all active life was left behind, and they were on an open deserted road, even though, here, pace was increased, and his position became more dangerous than ever.
He never knew how he managed to hang on during that nightmare drive, but somehow he did. The car sped northwards along Tottenham Court Road and Hampstead Road to Camden Town, swung to the right there, speeding along Seven Sisters Road and Forest Road to Woodford, through which it passed at a very high speed. Forking to the right beyond Woodford, it ran through Loughton and took the Forest Road towards Epping. Cousins was extremely interested in the route, but the pain in his arms and the tremendous strain caused to his legs, in his desperate endeavour to keep his feet resting on the carrier, occupied his attention, giving him little time to spend in conjecture concerning their destination.
About a mile beyond Loughton, when the powerful car was negotiating the hill, as easily as though it were on the level, pace was suddenly slackened and, immediately afterwards, the Bentley swung dizzily to the left through an open gateway. The abruptness of the turn caught Cousins unprepared and, this time, despite a desperate effort to keep his ill-shod feet on the grid, they slipped off, and he found himself being dragged painfully along. It is a wonder the straps encircling the bags held under this increased strain. They must have been manufactured from very stout leather. The pace of the car now decreased, until it was moving very slowly. The little Englishman, having ascertained that it was running up the drive of a house, and had apparently reached its destination, let go with a grunt of relief. He promptly collapsed where he was, strained muscles of his legs utterly refusing to function. His arms also ached intolerably. However, he succeeded in crawling to the side of the drive and, taking shelter behind a rhododendron bush, set to work to restore life to his limbs, at the same time straining his eyes through the darkness in order to keep watch on events.
The outlines of a large, two-storyed house could just be discerned but, as was only to be expected, there was not a light to be seen anywhere. The Bentley came to a standstill before the front door. It was far too dark for Cousins to see more than that, but obviously one, or all, of the Russians would have descended, and summoned the occupants of the place unless, of course, there was nobody there, and Karen possessed a key. Watching intently, vigorously rubbing his legs the while, the Englishman’s guess that there was somebody in the house was presently proved to be correct. Illumination suddenly blazed out from a window almost directly over the front door. A head looked out and a conversation took place with the men below. Cousins was not close enough to hear what was said. It could not have been more than a few words, however, for the man above quickly disappeared. A few minutes passed by, then the front door opened; a glow of bright light shone out from a spacious hall, and the watcher was now able clearly to see all that took place. The two unfortunate captives were carried in and up a staircase. A little while afterwards an attic window to the left of the house – he had not previously been able to notice the existence of attics – became illuminated, and he observed the shadows of men moving about. It was a definite advantage to know where the girl and Anstruther had been taken. Cousins expressed his satisfaction in a little exclamation. By that time, he felt that his legs and arms had sufficiently recovered to resume their normal functions, but he remained where he was keenly watching the movements of Karen and his associates. The man who had opened the door was joined by two others. From what the Englishman concluded, the conspirators, in all, totalled eight. Had there been any more in the house, they would undoubtedly have also appeared by then. Of course, there may have been others elsewhere, but he was fairly confident there were not. It was essential that all in that house, in any case, must be apprehended. He knew Ivan Keremsky had been instructed to drive the car to the other side of London before daybreak and hide it, and possibly would not have returned by the time the house was raided, but Cousins had already conceived a plan for the capture of the hairy Ivan and incidently the car.
The bags were unstrapped from the luggage rack and carried inside. Then the lights of the car were extinguished, the men gathered together in the hall, and presently the door was shut. Apparently Ivan was not to make his journey at once. Cousins waited a few minutes, after which he ran quietly across towards the house, taking advantage of all possible cover for, although the night was very dark, he knew it was conceivable that his form might be silhouetted at times in places where the background was less murky than was general. He reached the car, ascertained there was nobody standing by or within the vicinity, then cautiously began to circle the house. It was quite a large building of the villa type standing in, as far as he could see, well-kept grounds. The scent reached him from near at hand, causing him to reflect grimly that the scoundrels had found, after so much difficulty, they were hardly in their correct environment. Turning a corner, he became aware of a thin ray of light shining from a window. At once he grew doubly careful, treading with painstaking caution, for a gravel path ran round the house. The warmth of the night was, no doubt, responsible for the window being partially open, though the curtains were drawn, the little stream of light coming from the centre where they did not quite meet. Approaching on hands and knees, Cousins heard the subdued murmur of voices from within. He crawled right under the window and raised his head until he could apply an eye to the aperture. He was enabled thus to see into the room while the voices reached his ears now quite distinctly. Karen was there, with Turgenev, Keremsky, and Gortschakoff. There was no sign of Vogel, who was doubtless guarding the captives, but a short, stout, florid-faced man in a dressing gown was talking to Karen and appeared to be perturbed. They all had glasses in their hands, and were standing.
‘What you tell me sounds very well,’ the stout man was saying in Russian, ‘but I am not certain it is wise. It is true the funds are low, and I am not in a position to supply any more from my business. Five thousand pounds will certainly be of great help, but are you sure it will be handed over to you?’
‘Bah!’ replied Karen in a tone of disgust, ‘you always were thin-skinned, Voronoff, even though you are thick-bodied. Of course, I am sure. With the letter and the cheque and my own story of the elopement, the bank manager will not hesitate. Why should he? Perhaps he will give a wedding present,’ he added with a laugh.
‘Supposing the young man refuses to write the letter and sign the cheque?’
‘Will he, do you think, when one of us holds a dagger to the breast of the girl?’
The fat man shrugged his shoulders.
‘Under those circumstances,’ he admitted, ‘I daresay he will do what you require. But I am not satisfied that you are wise in coming here now. It was arranged you should hide here afterwards – not before. This kidnapping and your desertion of the house in Soho Square will bring in the police when we did not wish their interest to be roused. There will be a hue and cry for the man and girl and consequently for you, my dear Nicholas.’
‘For Monsieur Felix Dorrien, not for me,’ corrected Karen softly.
‘Have you not forgotten a description will be circulated? Your figure is somewhat obvious, and easily recognised.’
The hunchback snarled; his face became livid. He stepped towards Voronoff and, for a moment, it looked as though it was his intention to strike him. The fat man started back hastily.
‘Leave my figure alone,’ snapped Karen harshly.
‘My dear friend,’ protested the other in conciliatory tones, ‘I was not intending any disparagement. I was simply pointing out that you are rather conspicuous, owing to your unfortunate disability.’
‘I can take care of myself,’ growled Karen in no way consoled.
‘Voronoff is right,’ put in Turgenev, though with diffidence. ‘Would it not be better that one of us went to the bank instead of you, Nicholas?’
‘No,’ snarled Karen. ‘I will be there at ten. No report will have been made to the police by then or for some hours afterwards.’
‘But what about the “afterwards”,’ murmured Gortschakoff.
‘I will see to that. Once I am back here, there will be no need for me to go out again. You three and Vogel have the arrangements for the twentieth in hand.’
‘Ah! So the twentieth is the date settled?’ remarked Voronoff.
Karen nodded. He was beginning to recover from his spleen.
‘All will be present at the ceremony. Two bombs will be thrown into the midst of them. Gortschakoff, Keremsky, Vogel and Turgenev will stand on the edge of the crowd ready to make certain if any escape, but none will escape. Our plans are too well formed for that and the bombs are the most powerful we have ever had. You have them in your own care, Voronoff?’
The man in the dressing gown nodded.
‘They are in the cellar, packed in straw. You and I possess keys.’
‘Excellent. This blow will shake the British Empire from end to end and bring about its disintegration. Chaos will result. It will be an historic day.’ Karen’s wicked eyes sparkled. His whole attitude was that of a fanatic. His enthusiasm infected the others. They became no less excited than he. ‘It is a great, a marvellous scheme,’ he went on, ‘and I – I, Nicholas Karen, have conceived, and planned it all.’
For some moments the conversation continued on those emotional lines. Cousins shivered as though he had suddenly felt very chilly. It was Voronoff who brought his companions back to a more matter-of-fact level.
‘The two men you have selected, Karen,’ he remarked, ‘they will not fail at the crucial moment?’
The hunchback shook his head confidently.
‘They are zealots like us. They and their families have suffered wrongs since childhood. Their hatred is so great, it even startles me. No, they will not fail. Even if they do, our brave friends will be ready to act. They are prepared to sacrifice their lives, if need be, to render successful such a truly noble assassination.’
‘How much have you promised the two men?’
‘One thousand, five hundred pounds each. It will be handed to them the day before the great deed takes place. They will be able to send it to their families.’
‘They will be wise to do so,’ commented Turgenev dryly. ‘Their chances of surviving will be small.’
The hunchback shrugged his shoulders.
‘Perhaps, in the confusion, they will be able to get away. But it does not matter. If they die, they will die heroes of a great cause. From the time the money is handed to them, Gortschakoff and Keremsky will never leave their sides.’ He paused thoughtfully, then went on: ‘At present they live in the district called Deptford’ – he pronounced it Dep-ti-for, but Cousins understood – ‘I think it would be wise to bring them here one night, and keep them here. What say you, my friend?’
The idea did not appeal to Voronoff. He protested vigorously but, as Cousins had already discovered, once Karen made up his mind about anything, and insisted on it, the others fell into line like a lot of sheep. He insisted on this occasion and Voronoff, although antagonistic to the scheme, capitulated.
‘We will now sleep,’ pronounced Karen. ‘There is no need for Vogel to stay with the two upstairs. They can remain bound and gagged, and it is impossible for them to escape. Gortschakoff, go and tell him to come down – he will be thirsty.’ The man with the broken nose nodded, and left the room. ‘At eight I will see the young man,’ he went on to the others, ‘make him sign the cheque, and write the letter. When I return from the bank, and the money is safe in my hands, the two can die.’
‘What is to be done with their bodies?’ asked Voronoff anxiously.
Karen chuckled sneeringly.
‘Always you are afraid, my friend. You need have no fear. The respectable Russian merchant of the City of London will not be compromised in any way. I guarantee that. We will remove the bodies far away from this house tomorrow night.’
Voronoff did not appear altogether at ease, even after that promise. He shook his head doubtfully.
‘To me,’ he confessed, ‘there seem many flaws in this scheme for obtaining money and despatching this man and woman. I am—’
‘Ah, bad!’ snapped the hunchback. ‘You are a fat fool.’
The tall, gaunt, hairless man with the repulsive eyes entered the room with Gortschakoff. He threw a notecase, some silver, a watch, and two or three rings on the table.
‘I removed these from the two,’ he announced.
Karen opened the case; took therefrom a bundle of notes and a cheque. The former, with the silver, were counted, after which they were stowed away in one of his pockets.
‘Thirty-four pounds and seven shillings,’ he stated with satisfaction. ‘It is good. The watch and rings and the notecase can be buried with them. It will be safer. I will keep with me the cheque book for the present. It is time you departed, Keremsky. Soon dawn will break.’
Cousins waited to hear no more. Crawling, until he had left the gravel drive and was on a lawn, he straightened, and set off at a run for the entrance gates, keeping well amidst the trees. Owing to the fact that he had, for so long, been looking into a lighted room, his eyes had become unaccustomed to the darkness, with the result that he sustained several painful bumps. However, he made light of these, and reached his objective just as he heard the engine of the Bentley being started. He gave one of the open gates a push that caused it to swing across the drive. Keremsky would be forced to draw up, in order to clear the way for the car. When he got out, Cousins intended to enter the tonneau, prepared to act. His automatic had been removed from its hiding place; was now in his hand. Crouching behind a bush he waited.
The Bentley came down the drive with hardly any sound, apart from the rasping of the wheels over the gravel. Its brilliant headlights picked out the scene with startling clearness, giving a theatrical effect to the surroundings, but the Englishman had no fear of being observed. He was well hidden. The car stopped directly opposite him; the bearded Russian descended, and walked to the gate. Cousins heard his muttered exclamation of surprise. No doubt, he was wondering what had caused such a heavy, five-barred affair to swing across the drive, when there was no wind. Apparently his suspicions were in no way roused, however, since he merely strode to the gate, and pushed it back; returned at once, without hesitation, to the car. The Secret Service agent had calculated upon the fellow’s obvious obtuseness. An unerring judgement of men, as indeed all who are successful in such a profession must be, Cousins had quickly sized up the Russians, forming the opinion that, with the exception of Karen and Turgenev, their intelligence was not of a high order. Turgenev, he had decided, was actually the most dangerous, even though the hunchback had by far the cleverest brain. Karen, however, allowed himself to be influenced by personal considerations and was overconfident.
By the time Keremsky had resumed his seat at the wheel, Cousins was crouching inside the car. Like a shadow he had flitted from his hiding place, opened the door, and crept in. The Russian had heard no sound above the soft, rhythmic purring of the magnificent engine. Indeed, there had been no sound to hear. He slipped in his gears, and the Bentley glided away in the direction of Loughton. It had reached the village, when something cold touched his head just behind the left ear. At the same time, a voice, the tone of which was equally chilly, told him, in perfect Russian, that if he did not do exactly as directed the weapon, caressing the back of his head, would be fired, with an unfortunate result for Keremsky. There is no mistaking the feel of the business end of a pistol. Such an experience has a paralysing effect upon most people. It paralysed Ivan to such an extent that his hands fell from the wheel, and he stiffened as though he had suddenly congealed. Fortunately his foot also left the accelerator, otherwise the car would have swerved on to the pavement, and there might have been something of a crash. Instead it slowed down; presently came to a halt.
Being still in gear, the engine stopped. Cousins had timed his action admirably. A few yards away was the police station. Ordering Keremsky to descend from the car, and hold his hands high above his head, he followed. The Russian might have been prepared to sacrifice his life ‘to render successful a truly noble assassination’, but he was obviously not eager to sacrifice it by making an attempt to turn the tables on the man who was now threatening him with death if he did not do exactly as he was told. He obeyed orders like an automaton, marching to the police station, his arms stretched heavenwards, without even daring to catch a glimpse at the person who had so abruptly and so rudely transformed him from a contented, optimistic being to a shocked, fear-stricken wretch. There was not a soul abroad to witness the amazing and diverting spectacle of a dirty little tramp shepherding a great, burly, bearded fellow into the arms of the law at the point of an automatic pistol. The officers on duty, however, received the surprise of their lives. Possibly they were, or had been, bemoaning the fact that nothing ever happened at Loughton. If so, something certainly happened now.
A sergeant, looking distinctly sleepy, sat at his high desk in the office, aimlessly turning over the pages of the uninteresting charge book. Opposite him, on a bench, dozed a constable. They came to their feet with astounded exclamations as a big man appeared, his hands raised high above his head, followed by perhaps the smallest and most disreputable tramp they had ever seen. For a perceptible period, neither of the officials on duty was able to utter a word; then the sergeant found his voice.
‘What’s all this?’ he demanded in authoritative tones. ‘Who are you?’
‘Don’t bother to ask questions now,’ returned Cousins. ‘“Theirs not to question why; theirs but to do or die.” Not that I am asking either of you to die, but I certainly want you to “do”. Here, hold this,’ he thrust his automatic into the bewildered constable’s hand. ‘Shoot him, if he so much as blinks an eyelid.’
Too much surprised to do anything else, the officer held the weapon pointed at the Russian, whose back was still turned to Cousins. The latter stooped down, and removed the dilapidated shoe from his right foot. The sergeant decided he was being made the victim of some outrageous practical joke.
‘If you don’t explain the meaning of this tomfoolery,’ he stormed, ‘I’ll lock you both up until you become sober.’
Cousins straightened himself to his full stature – which meant that his eyes could just look over the top of the desk – and grinned cheerfully. His wrinkles, merging amazingly into myriads of happy little creases, overcame the sergeant’s wrath. Despite himself, the latter chuckled, but he became deadly serious when he observed the symbol that the little tramp was holding towards him, cupped in his dirty hand. His eyes opened wide; a prolonged whistle pursed his lips. His manner underwent a marked transformation.
‘I see you understand,’ murmured Cousins. ‘Excellent.’
‘What do you want me to do, sir?’ asked the sergeant.
The Secret Service man returned the emblem to its hiding place in his shoe, which was again donned. He then took the revolver from the policeman, who appeared more perplexed than ever at the sudden change in his superior.
‘First of all,’ directed Cousins, ‘search him thoroughly.’
This was done by the bemused constable, under the watchful eyes of the other two. During the process, Keremsky came face to face with his captor for the first time and, as he recognised the tramp who had played Noughts and Crosses with his leader, his little, pig-like eyes threatened to start from his head, his mouth dropped ludicrously open. For some time he could only stare stupidly; then a volley of abuse in choice Russian poured from his lips. Cousins listened, but did not bother to reply. Ivan ceased abruptly, however, when the pistol was raised threateningly, and his face paled at the thought that he was about to be shot. Nothing of interest was found on him, all articles being piled on the sergeant’s desk. There was not a weapon of any sort amongst them, unless a large clasp knife could be given that designation.
‘Now lock him up in your strongest cell, Sergeant,’ ordered Cousins, ‘and don’t under any circumstances whatever, open the door until men of the Special Branch come for him.’
The three of them escorted the crestfallen Russian to a cell. He was locked in, and promptly despatched a further broadside of expletives when he was certain he was not to be shot. They could still hear his voice as they turned along the passage and re-entered the office. The sergeant jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
‘What is he, sir?’ he asked curiously.
‘Just an anarchist of Russian nationality,’ Cousins told him calmly.
The two policeman looked at each other and whistled. These were great events for Loughton. The constable’s face actually paled with excitement. It could be easily seen that he was burning to know who the tramp was, but dared ask no questions. His superior’s respectful demeanour towards the little man warned him it might be unwise. Cousins requested the use of the telephone. Asking for a certain number that is in no directory, he was immediately put through and, for ten minutes, perched on the sergeant’s high stool spoke concisely and rapidly into the mouthpiece ending with detailed instructions and directions. The police officers pretended not to be listening, but they would not have been human had they closed their ears to that which was being said. Cousins was extremely clever at the manner in which he conveyed all information to the other end without divulging more to his hearers in the police station than he wished them to know. Nevertheless, they learnt enough to startle and excite them tremendously. At the end of his conversation, the pseudo-tramp jumped off his stool.
‘In half an hour or so,’ he declared to the sergeant, ‘three or four cars will arrive with men from headquarters. Do you know the house of a Russian called Voronoff?’
The sergeant nodded.
‘Very well, sir.’
‘Good. I want you to send someone to point out the way to the Intelligence and Special Branch men. You need only direct them to the gates. They will wait there for me.’ He held out his hand, which the other grasped warmly. ‘Thanks for the help you have given me, Sergeant, and excuse the dirty paw.’
‘It’s a privilege to shake it, sir,’ was the hearty reply.
‘Nice of you,’ grinned Cousins, adding with an exaggerated bow: ‘Mine is the privilege. “But oh! For the grip of the bobby’s hand.”’ He walked to the door; glanced back. ‘There’s a car standing nearly outside. Take charge of it, will you? It belongs to an adventurous young man who, by now, probably longs for the existence he left rather abruptly and rudely. He’ll claim it later on. And, by the way, it’s been left in gear.’
Outside he became aware that dawn was beginning to break.
‘Dash it!’ he muttered. ‘I forgot that, I’ll have to hurry.’
The feelings of Sonia Hardinge and Anthony Anstruther can perhaps be much better imagined than described. The agony of that journey from Soho on the floor of a car, their bodies twisted and bent in a manner that would have been painful to a contortionist, well nigh suffocated by the gags over their mouths and the thick rug covering them, and the added indignity of the legs of the men in the car resting none too gently on them, all combined to produce in them a feeling of utter hopelessness. Up to the very moment of their removal from the house in Soho Square they had pinned their faith on the word of the man masquerading as a drunken tramp. It was all they could do. When they were jammed agonisingly into the car, and felt themselves being borne rapidly away, they lost hope completely. Of the two, Anstruther suffered the more, not because of the pain caused by the unnatural position of his body, though, being taller and bigger altogether, he must have endured absolute torture, but on account of his mental anguish. He blamed himself entirely for the fact that the girl he loved was undergoing such a terrible ordeal. He would have gladly welcomed even greater torment, or death itself, if he could have bargained for her release and security. But he had not even been given the opportunity of making a proposal by which she could be ransomed.
Sonia was desperately frightened, but she did her utmost to fight against the dread tormenting her that at the end of all the suffering, all the humiliation and insults, she and Tony would only be murdered. She, for her part, took all the responsibility for the desperate position to which her desire for something out of the ordinary had condemned them. She had accepted Karen’s invitation to enter the house. Tony had concurred, it was true, but she could not blame him for a foolish impulse which had primarily influenced her. During the journey she fainted, due to the pain and the suffocating atmosphere, but recovered consciousness when they were carried into the house near Loughton. Neither, of course, had the slightest idea where they were. They did not care much. Their minds were too troubled and their bodies too racked with agony for them to be concerned with their whereabouts just then. It was a wonderful relief when they were deposited on a bed, and could lie at full length, even though their bonds and gags were not removed. The cords cutting into their wrists and ankles were forgotten for a while in the luxury of feeling their limbs and bodies in natural positions.
The repulsive man with the horrible, lashless eyes, and hairless head left to watch over them, sat looking at them until Sonia wanted to scream from very loathing. It was a relief when he rose and searched them, even though he subjected the girl to the most insulting indignities. He pocketed her rings, Anstruther’s watch, ring, and pocket case. When Gortschakoff entered the room and took him away, she felt intensely grateful. She and Tony turned on their sides, and lay facing each other, their eyes expressing all their lips were unable to utter. In that time, her indecision about marrying him evaporated completely. She longed with all her soul for the event that she felt now would never take place. They had both become suddenly changed, from two rather bored, light-hearted, gay, and irresponsible young people to a man and a woman who desperately wanted to live – just for each other. All this they read in each other’s eyes which contained the promise that, if they ever escaped from their terrible predicament, they would devote themselves to that ideal.
Karen entered the room; gazed mockingly at them.
‘Like the lovebirds you look,’ he commented. ‘It is so pretty picture. I am ver’ sorry I am compel to leave you like this so tied. But soon, when the cheque has been sign, you will be free. I will come back at eight of the clock. Goodnight, Mademoiselle – and Monsieur. I hope you have the good sleep.’
With a laugh that sounded diabolical to them, he switched off the light, and left the room. The door closed behind him. Then commenced desperate attempts by both to remove their bonds or, at least, to loosen them, but they were tied too skilfully, apart from which their arms and legs were by then completely numb and incapable of action. Forced to desist from their useless efforts, they lay close together, seeking the consolation of their nearness to each other. To them both there was an infinite amount of happiness in this. Time passed with dreadful slowness. They longed for and yet feared the coming of daylight. Neither of them believed Karen’s assertion that, when the cheque was signed, they would be free. A monster who could treat them as he had done would not stop at that. Also, would he not fear to let them go now, because of their information they could give the police regarding him and his associates? Anstruther would give the cheque, but only in the desperate and forlorn hope that it would, at least, save Sonia.
Neither, of course, could sleep. Their minds, for one thing, were in too much of a ferment, while their bodies, particularly the cruelly-bound wrists and ankles, hurt abominably. A faint light began to steal through the uncurtained lattice window. Dawn was breaking. It was then that Sonia caught a slight sound. She held her breath in order to listen better. For some time she heard nothing further then it came again. She was lying facing the door, and presently, although it was still far too dark to see much, was certain it was gradually opening. Before long she had no doubt at all. Her fear became greater than ever. What was going to happen now? All kinds of terrible fancies flitted through her mind. Mentally she visualised the faces of the five loathesome men in whose power she and Tony were and, in none of them, could she remember a spark of anything but cruelty, wickedness, and lust.
A form entered the room; the door began to close again. In her utter distraction, Sonia nudged Tony desperately, realising at the same time that he could do nothing. They were both entirely at the mercy of the ‘thing’ that was in the room now with them. She wondered if her lover had heard. He could not have seen, because he was lying with his back to the door. Straining her eyes and ears she was unable to find out where the creature was, yet she knew he was there. Silence, utter and complete, reigned in that little chamber. It was to her, the most terrible, nerve-racking moment of all that horrible night. Then, all at once, the most tremendous joy possessed her. She almost fainted with relief.
‘Don’t be startled,’ whispered a voice close to their ears. ‘It is only I – the tramp. I am going to cut the cords and move your wretched gags, but before I do so, I must warn you. For God’s sake, don’t groan, give vent to your relief, or make any sound whatever. Now, here goes!’
Skilful fingers started working at the gag over Anstruther’s mouth. Quickly it was unfastened, the cords round his wrists were cut through by a knife – the same broken and rusty implement that Turgenev had ignored – those binding his ankles suffered the same fate. Anstruther was free. A similar service was rapidly performed for Sonia. Cousins then commenced gently and soothingly to massage the girl’s aching wrists and ankles.
‘Excuse the liberty, miss,’ he whispered with a soft little chuckle. ‘It isn’t a habit of mine to caress a lady’s ankles.’ She could have laughed and cried together in her wonderful relief. It took all her resolution to obey his injunction. ‘There, how’s that?’ he asked after some time. ‘Better?’
‘Much, thank you,’ she breathed, taking for granted he expected an answer, despite his warning.
He turned his attention to Anstruther, who had already been engaged in performing a like office to his own wrists and ankles but without the skilful touch that Cousins now applied to them. It was not long before the young man indicated that feeling had completely returned. The Secret Service man sat himself quietly on the bed.
‘Listen carefully,’ he exhorted them. ‘It’s not going to be an easy job getting you out of the house. I thought at first of releasing you and concealing you somewhere inside, until the raid takes place, but that’s impracticable. Besides, there’s no knowing what might happen, if they are alarmed. Bullets and what not will be flying all over the show. So I’ve got to get you out. First of all, take off your shoes, both of you.’ They obeyed. ‘Outside, to the right,’ he went on, ‘is a steepish staircase, descending to a corridor. Several rooms open on to that, and I believe are occupied by the owner of the house and the men who brought you here. We shall have to pass three doors before we reach the main staircase to the hall. Once there, things should be easy enough. The trouble will be getting there. Fellows like Karen generally sleep with one eye open. You’ll have to move like ghosts. A little way along the passage outside is another attic, and I strongly suspect Voronoff’s henchmen are slumbering within.’
‘Who is Voronoff?’ whispered Anstruther.
‘He is the owner or renter of this desirable country residence – a fat little fellow, but whether with or without his mammy’s eyes, I can’t say.’
‘How on earth did you get here?’ pursued the young man.
‘S’sh,’ warned Sonia, ‘there’ll be time enough for questions afterwards, Tony. We were told to make no sound.’
Cousins smiled in the darkness.
‘As Vaughan in The Provoked Husband put in,’ he murmured, ‘“The flat simplicity of that reply was admirable.” Are you ready? Then let us go.’
They stood up. Sonia found and clasped Tony’s hand. Gone was all her terror. She only felt now a tremendous sense of thrill and also deep gratitude to the little man who, she realised, must have risked his life to reach them. They crept silently to the door. Cousins had hold of the handle; was about to pull it open. Instead, he suddenly pushed them back, muttering an order to return to the bed and lie down. They obeyed, their pulses racing madly. The little man must have possessed acute hearing; neither of them had heard a sound. Straining their eyes through the gloom, they could just discern his form posed rigidly by the door. A cry almost broke from Sonia’s lips; she only succeeded in stifling it with a great effort of will. The door was opening by slow degrees. As slowly, a short round figure insinuated itself into the room; began to creep towards the bed. It had almost reached its objective, when Cousins, from behind, hit it skilfully and scientifically upon the head with the butt of his heavy automatic. It collapsed with a grunt; was caught as it fell, and eased softly to the floor.
‘“I am as poor as Job, my Lord, but not so patient,”’ quoted the little man. ‘You asked,’ he added to Anstruther, ‘who was Voronoff. This is he. A nasty piece of work with a foul mind. If the road to hell is paved with good intentions as Dr Johnson is reported to have said, I should like to know where he thought the bad ones lead to.’ There was no mistaking his interpretation of Voronoff’s stealthy appearance, and Sonia shuddered, while Tony’s teeth snapped together angrily with a distinct click. ‘We’d better tie him up and gag him before we go,’ decided Cousins. ‘He won’t be unconscious long.’
With the help of Anstruther, the fellow was lifted on to the bed, tied securely with the ropes that had bound the young man and girl, and gagged. Tony took a vicious pleasure in assuring himself that ropes and gag were as tight as he could make them. ‘I hope this chokes the swine,’ he muttered, referring to the latter.
‘It probably will when he comes to, and finds what has happened to him,’ commented the Secret Service man. ‘He looks an apopletic subject. If he’d had more sense we’d be in queer street now. Either he was too intent on what he meant to do, or lacks grey matter, otherwise his suspicions would have been roused by the fact that the door was unlocked. Anyhow, we’ll lock him in. It was fortunate the key was left there. Unintentional kindness on Fish-eyes part. Now, come on. If we’re waylaid, Miss Hardinge, run down the stairs, get out of the house somehow, and make for the gate. You’ll find a dozen or so men there – send ’em along. Anstruther and I will hold the fort until they arrive, won’t we?’ he added to Tony.
‘Rather,’ whispered that young man enthusiastically.
‘“But when the blast of war blows in our ears,”’ quoted Cousins. ‘“Let us be tigers in our fierce deportment.”’
His companions, rendered calm and without qualms on account of his supreme coolness, were greatly amused at his proclivity for quotations. They were, more than ever, burning to know who he really was.
By now, it was getting quite light, and they had little difficulty in seeing their way. This time they managed to get out of the attic without any further alarms, Tony and Sonia carrying their shoes in their hands. Cousins locked the door; stood listening intently for a few moments then, with great caution, led them down the narrow, rather steep stairs to the corridor below. Again he stood straining his ears, but nothing of an alarming nature reached them, and presently on he went, the other two creeping along behind him. Sonia marvelled at the easy manner in which he moved, without making the slightest sound, despite the fact that he had not removed his dilapidated footwear. She and Tony found the going extremely difficult, even in their stockinged feet. They discovered how hard it is to move without sound; were in agony all the time lest they caused a board to creak or made any other noise. They reached the broad, well-carpeted, main staircase, descended in Indian file; had almost reached the hall when, in a moment of carelessness, Anstruther allowed the shoes he was carrying to hit against the banisters with a distinct clatter. To their ears the noise was almost deafening. Sonia came to an abrupt halt, frozen with dismay; Anstruther felt himself go hot and cold all over; he knew his face was scarlet with shame and self-mortification. Cousins quickly brought them to the realisation that standing still on the stairs was hardly wise in the light of that which had happened.
‘Come on,’ he whispered urgently. ‘Not lingering in the hope of being invited to a game of Noughts and Crosses, are you?’
Anstruther felt grateful to him for his kindly humour and non-reproachful manner, and hurried after Sonia down the remaining stairs. Unfortunately, however, the damage had been done. They heard a hasty and heavy step in the corridor above. Cousins guessed, from the nature of the sound, that it was the hunchback on the prowl. He was right. A flood of light suddenly illumined the staircase as they reached the bottom and sped for the darkness of the hall, but Karen had caught a glimpse of them. A cry of fury broke from his lips. It was animal-like in its timbre, and Sonia shivered involuntarily. Cousins caught her by the arm, hurried her into a room, and pointed to an open window.
‘No time to fool about with a door,’ he muttered. ‘I forced the catch of that window; left it open in case. Out you go, and follow instructions. Put your shoes on in the garden.’ He bundled her out of the window. ‘Now, back we go,’ he shot at Anstruther. ‘I want to help them in this house – must bag the lot.’
He raced back into the hall, which was now blazing with light, followed by Tony. Shouts and cries of alarm were resounding throughout the house. Karen was coming down the stairs in his lop-sided manner, but extraordinarily swiftly; behind him crowded Turgenev and Gortschakoff. All were in various stages of undress. They pulled up suddenly in rank amazement as they recognised the little tramp. For one stupefied moment the hunchback stared unbelievingly at him; then from between his lips came the most fiendish cry Cousins or Anstruther had ever heard. It contained fury, hatred, the very essence of satanic viciousness and yet, at the same time, the Secret Service man thought to recognise in it the plaintive note that might be inspired by disappointment, as though some part of Karen was regretting the discovery that the man who had given him such pleasure at his beloved game was an enemy. But that note was not recognisable in his subsequent invective. Foaming at the mouth, his eyes gleaming with the utmost evil, he poured forth filthy obscenities at the two men below in a mixture of Russian and English. Anstruther wondered why he and his followers did not attack, but Cousins guessed the reason. They were not armed, while he was. Karen was not madman enough to throw himself forward in face of the automatic held so steadily pointed at him. Panting furiously the hunchback paused for breath. Cousins was about to speak, when from above sounded Vogel’s voice. Apparently he had been sent to the attic in which the prisoners had been confined.
‘They have gone.’ The Russian words tumbled over themselves in the man’s alarm. ‘Voronoff was there, gagged and bound – in their place. He was just recovering consciousness – I have released him.’
Vogel came into view; was as dumbfounded as the others had been by sight of the tramp below. His repulsive face was the picture of utter and blank – not to mention dismayed – astonishment. Cousins gave them a further shock by addressing Karen in perfect Russian.
‘The game is up,’ he stated calmly. ‘I know exactly why you and those others are in this country. You blundered badly by conceiving the idea of kidnapping Mr Anstruther and Miss Hardinge, Nicholas Karen; you blundered more badly by being taken in by a tramp who played Noughts and Crosses. The best thing all of you can do is to surrender quietly.’
‘Who are you?’ screamed the hunchback. ‘What have you done with the girl?’
‘She is safe, you vile murderer. By now—’
He never finished the sentence. There was the crack of a revolver, a bullet imbedded itself in the door behind him. At the turning in the staircase, he caught sight of two men, both armed. They were obviously Voronoff’s servants. A glimpse was enough for Cousins. Like lightning he fired. There was a sharp cry. One of the fellows pitched forward, slid down a few steps, and lay still. The other disappeared. Vogel, Turgenev and Gortschakoff followed his example, turning, and running up the stairs like startled rabbits. Karen alone held his ground. He stood where he was, snarling like an animal at bay. Repeated cries from above failed to influence him, until something was said which Cousins did not catch. Even then there was no haste about his movements. He turned and walked up the stairs in the most leisurely manner.
‘It is useless you retreating like that,’ called out the Englishman. ‘You may as well surrender at once. I have examined the house, and know exactly what possibilities it offers of escape from above. By now it is surrounded.’
The latter was sheer bluff. He certainly was confident that men of the Secret Service and Special Branch had arrived by then at the gates but, even if Sonia had reached them, there had been no time for them to arrive at the house. His words had an effect that he hardly expected. A fusillade of shots rang out from the turning on the stairs. All the Russians were now apparently armed, and they were bent on killing him and Anstruther, and perhaps fighting their way out. However, in their anxiety to avoid exposing themselves too much to his undoubted skill as a marksman, their aim was badly directed, and their bullets hummed harmlessly by.
‘Get out through the window and see if the others are coming,’ ordered Cousins in a whisper to Anstruther. ‘Bring half in the same way. Tell the other half to watch the windows above.’
‘Hadn’t I better stay with you?’ began Tony. ‘You will be—’
‘Do what you’re told,’ snapped the little man. ‘I’m in charge here. What do you expect to do? Charge them with your bare fists?’
Anstruther went without another word. Cousins drew up a heavy chair with a tall, solid back, and crouched behind it. Another fusillade came, the bullets a good deal nearer this time. Cousins caught a glimpse of a pair of fish-like eyes; again his deadly automatic barked, and the long, gaunt body of Vogel came sliding sickeningly down the stairs to land with a crash at the bottom. It lay grotesquely still, and the Secret Service man regarded it grimly.
‘“There’s a divinity shapes our ends, rough-hew them as we will,”’ he murmured.
A chorus of execrations from above told him how the other Russians had taken the death of their comrade, for there was no doubt he was dead. It is impossible merely to wound a man who shows only his eyes. With a sense of relief, Cousins heard the coming of several men, and knew his friends were at hand.
‘How goes it, Jerry?’ asked the voice of Cartright.
‘I’ve got two out of seven, another’s locked up. Don’t stick that lantern jaw of yours in the way. They’re shooting prettily.’
‘You leave my face alone.’
‘My dear chap, I wouldn’t touch it. Have you got men watching those upper windows?’
‘Yes; eight of ’em – another six are behind me. By the way, who are the cubs?’
‘Tell you about them later on. What do you think this is – a conversazione? I think we’ll mop up. Bring your men—’
He stopped. From above came a confused medley of cries. It sounded as though the Russians were quarrelling, though it was impossible to distinguish anything that was being said. Suddenly Karen appeared, walking down the stairs in the most nonchalant manner. He was unarmed. Cousins rose to his feet, ranged himself by the side of the long and lanky Cartright, and watched. The men behind, all with revolvers aimed, stared with curiosity. The hunchback’s eyes gleamed madly, his sallow face was ghastly. Reaching the bottom he stood, for a few moments, surveying the group of Englishmen. The voices above had become suddenly hushed, except for a sound that suggested someone up there was sobbing. Cousins’ wrinkled face creased in perplexity. There was something very sinister about this move of Karen’s, of that he felt sure, but could not fathom it.
‘So, my frien’,’ remarked the hunchback in English, ‘you are of the police – yes? Well, I am ver’ glad to welcome these gentlemen. They will have mooch amusement.’
With amazing speed, he suddenly darted for a door at the right of the hall. As he pulled it open, Cousins fired. Karen gave a sharp cry, stumbled through. He was hit, but obviously not killed. The door slammed behind him. Cartright and the other men heard the key turn in the lock as they dashed forward. At the same time, with a shriek of mortal terror, the rotund form of Voronoff, his face white as death, came into view running headlong down the stairs.
‘He have to the cellar gone,’ he cried. ‘He mus’ be stop. It is—’
Two revolvers barked viciously from above. Voronoff screamed hideously, swayed and pitched forward on his face. With a flash of horrified enlightenment, Cousins knew what Karen had gone to do.
‘Out of the house, all of you,’ he yelled. ‘Jump out, fall out, anything, but get out, and as far away as you can.’
Cartright and his men did not stop to ask why. They had been trained in a school where rigid discipline holds complete mastery. Rapidly they retreated the way they had come. Cousins brought up the rear and, as he scrambled through the window, shouted:
‘Every man among the bushes, and throw yourselves flat.’
Those who had been watching outside obeyed the order as promptly as the others. Cousins caught sight of Anstruther standing in the drive, the picture of astonishment. Without ceremony, he grabbed him by the arm; pulled him on to the lawn, and forced him down flat on his face. He threw himself by his side. They were only just in time.
A tremendous sheet of flame seemed to shoot through the very centre of the building. There came a devastating roar and concussion that shook the earth and was heard miles away. The house appeared to rise giddily into the air; then burst assunder in a cataclysm of pyrotechnic ferocity. For several minutes after this ravaging upheaval a rain of masonry, glass, lead piping; fragments of furniture fittings, and other more horrifying remnants. What had once been an attractive country house had been utterly demolished; the remains of it blazed furiously.
Cousins and Cartright escaped uninjured; were the first on their feet; went among their men anxiously to ascertain if there were any casualties. Several had been hit by flying splinters, but none very badly. There was not a soul there, however, who was not shaken.
‘Well, that’s that,’ commented Cousins to his colleague. ‘Having recognised that they had failed in the object that had brought them to England, Karen tried to blow us sky-high as well as his own party. Can’t help thinking there was something heroic in those fellows waiting upstairs for their shocking end, knowing what he was going to do. Only Voronoff funked it. And thank the Lord he did. I doubt if I should have guessed his intentions in time otherwise.’ He eyed the flames, and quoted: ‘“Fierce Phlegethon, whose waves of torrent fire inflame with rage.”’
‘Great Scott!’ ejaculated Cartright disgustedly; ‘must you break out at such a time.’
‘Peace!’ ordered Cousins. ‘And for God’s sake give me a cigarette.’
He was greatly relieved to hear that Sonia Hardinge had been left with the men in charge of the car at the gates. Anstruther was sent to keep her company, a duty which he was not slow to carry out. He was trembling like a leaf with shock. The fire brigades from Loughton and Epping arrived and quickly extinguished the conflagration, after which the men of the Secret Service and Special Branch searched carefully among the ruins. They found little worth salving, however. Karen’s body was discovered intact, though burnt almost to a cinder. Only gruesome fragments here and there were found of the others. The whole official party eventually drove to the Loughton Police Station taking Sonia and Anstruther along. Ivan Keremsky was told of the destruction of his comrades and, under stern interrogation, collapsed, giving away the names of the two men at Deptford, who had been selected by Karen for a hideous deed that would have horrified the world. They were apprehended later in the day.
At the express invitation of Anstruther and Sonia Hardinge, Cousins travelled back to town in the Bentley, much to the disgust of Cartright, who had anticipated hearing all details of his colleague’s adventures on the way up. He was told to wait until later.
‘There are a few words of fatherly counsel,’ Cousins informed him, ‘I feel it my duty to impart to the young people you so inelegantly described as cubs.’
The three sat together on the front seat of the Bentley, Cousins between Sonia and Tony. The curious sight of a young man and a pretty girl in evening dress – very much the worse for wear it is true – consorting with an incredibly tattered and grimy tramp, must have greatly intrigued the people who saw the ill-matched trio.
In the light of a glorious June morning, Sonia was able to regard the events of the night as nothing more than a hideous and fantastic dream. It seemed impossible then that she and Tony could have passed through an ordeal so terrifying and terrible. They were both exceedingly inquisitive regarding their companion.
‘Of course,’ confided Anstruther, ‘I know now you are a prominent member of the Secret Service, sir, and that your name is Cousins.’
‘Ah, you’ve been asking questions. Ergo propter hoc, I’d better satisfy that curiosity of yours. A branch of a particularly virulent gang of anarchists,’ he related, ‘was suspected of operating in London. Detectives of the Special Branch and men of my own department searched for weeks for a clue to its whereabouts, without results. Then our agent in a certain country abroad got hold of a useful item of information; namely, that the leader in England was a hunchback called Karen with a childish passion for the game of Noughts and Crosses. It was believed he was domiciled somewhere in Soho, and was planning something big. The general search went on with renewed zest, but I became a tramp with no fixed abode, haunting Soho, and possessing a harmless love for Noughts and Crosses. In addition, I became known for my violent diatribes against law and order, royalty, aristocracy, and so on. I called you two “dir’y aris’crats”, if you remember.’
He grinned, and Sonia who, despite her terrible experience, had recovered marvellously all her spirits, gurgled with delight to see his face wrinkle into myriads of little laughing creases.
‘I played that wretched game,’ went on Cousins, ‘until I was sick, sad, and sorry of it. I played it for weeks in almost every street in Soho – on the pavements, on shop windows, on doors, on carts, on cars, every conceivable place I could think of, in fact. Several times I was arrested, but was released, of course, with apologies, when the police knew who I was. Last night I selected your car, Anstruther, for my operations. You both know the result. Is there anything more you’d like to be told?’
‘Lots,’ intimated the girl. ‘What was the plot Karen was engineering?’
Cousins’ face grew grim.
‘He had planned an assassination,’ he replied ‘an assassination that would have shaken the Empire to its foundations that might have caused chaos and disruption. I believe there was a certain country, antagonistic to England, behind it. But the proof of that – if proof existed – was destroyed with the house. Two men were selected to throw the bombs; others, Turgenev, Gortschakoff, Vogel, and Keremsky, were to be standing by to see there was no failure. You had practical experience of the terrific power of those bombs. There is no need for me to say more, is there?’
His words were followed by a horrified silence, which lasted until the car was threading its way through the London traffic; then:
‘What a great debt the Empire owes to you, Mr Cousins,’ observed the girl softly.
The little Secret Service man adroitly changed the subject.
‘I owe you two a debt for the use of your car,’ he chuckled. ‘In a way, you were responsible for my finding Karen. All the same, you deserve a wigging for behaving like a couple of idiots. I know I looked a disreputable scarecrow but, thinking I was drunk, you should have had sense to realise there was something in the wind, when I spoke to you in a perfectly sober voice. I guessed Karen wasn’t taking you into that house through sheer good nature, and I took a risk in warning you. It might have spoilt my game completely. Why, in heaven’s name, didn’t you do what I advised, and get out while the going was good?’
They were very contrite. Tony explained their – particularly his – anxiety to find a thrill, to experience something out of the ordinary. He told how he had wandered round London, searching for the romance and adventure that never came.
‘Well, you got all the thrills you wanted last night, I should imagine,’ commented Cousins, ‘and a bit over.’
‘By Jove! You’re right, sir; we did.’ His eyes glistened. ‘I suppose there’s not a vacancy in the Secret Service for a fellow like me?’
Cousins laughed heartily.
‘There may be for a fellow like you,’ he replied, ‘but not for you. Your methods of going about things are not exactly calculated to be successful in intelligence work. For instance, rattling a pair of shoes on banisters in sheer exuberance of spirits, when the need is for dead silence, is not good pidgin, as my Chinese boy would say.’
Tony looked crestfallen.
‘I’m damn sorry about that, sir,’ he apologised. ‘I suppose I was really the cause of—’
‘We’ll think no more about it,’ interrupted Cousins in kindly tones. ‘Drop me at Lancaster Gate, will you, please? I’m looking forward to becoming a respectable human being once more. By the way, you two will have to do some explaining to Miss Hardinge’s relations, won’t you? Refer to me, if you need any help. Oh, that reminds me!’ he fished out a pound note from his rags, and handed it to Sonia. ‘I’m afraid all your valuables went to glory with Karen, but he took this pound from your purse, Miss Hardinge, when we were at Soho, and pushed it into one of my apologies for pockets. Queer fellow, Karen. Even he, I suppose, had some sort of good in him somewhere.’
Sonia took the note with a little word of thanks, but rather as though the sight of it was repugnant to her. Cousins was not surprised, when he saw her surreptitiously drop it over the side. He understood.
The car stopped, and the Secret Service man ascended to the pavement. A most elegant individual stepped away from him with a grimace of mingled surprise and disgust. The little man chuckled. He shook hands with Sonia and Tony.
‘Take my advice,’ he urged, ‘give up searching for thrills and excitement. There’s a tremendous lot to be said for a humdrum, commonplace mode of existence, you know.’
‘We’ve found that out,’ admitted Tony ruefully. ‘No more aching for adventures for me. Sonia and I are to be married as soon as possible. That will be my biggest thrill.’
‘We are going to settle down like sensible people,’ added the girl, ‘and just be wonderfully content with life as we find it.’
‘Splendid,’ approved Cousins. ‘“Content is wealth, the riches of the mind; And happy he who can such riches find.” Goodbye!’
They drove away amidst a duet of gratitude. He stood watching the car until it had passed from sight. Then, with a little sigh, he set off for home.