Part 24 (1/2)
”Of course you understand that the war has made money tight. My clients inform me that they find themselves compelled to press for outstanding accounts and to take a course that in a happier state of things they would not employ.”
”Then I am to understand that these notices will be acted upon?”
”I think you can take that for granted,” the lawyer answered in a deprecatory tone. ”However, there is a way in which you can obviate all trouble to yourself and me--I mean by paying what is due at once.”
Williamson looked at him with a grim smile.
”It sounds simple, but there are difficulties. Now, I can pay these bills, but not in the time mentioned. Have you power to extend it?”
”No; but if you will make me an offer I will consult my clients.”
”That would cause some delay. As I want the matter settled, I would prefer to call upon the man who has brought it to a head. Will you tell me his name?”
Williamson had hoped to catch the lawyer off his guard, but his amused expression showed him that he had failed.
”There are several names. You know the people.”
”Of course; but suppose you admit that I have some intelligence and try to look at the matter from my point of view.”
”It would be difficult, for the want of practise,” the lawyer answered dryly. ”I have no debts.”
”Still, if you had several creditors who lived in different places and simultaneously put their claims into the hands of one particular lawyer, what would you think?”
”It might be accounted for very simply. I believe I am known as a businesslike, trustworthy man.”
”I don't doubt it; but I suspect another explanation. There is somebody behind these people who has persuaded them to stop my credit or has bought up the debts. He must have a reason for this, and if I could talk it over privately with him, it would simplify things.”
”I'm not so sure that follows,” said the lawyer. ”All I can tell you is that the bills have been sent to me for collection and unless they are met I shall reluctantly be forced to--”
”Just so,” Williamson interrupted. ”At present, I cannot say whether they will be met or not. I'm afraid we must leave it at that. And now, good day.”
A clerk politely showed him out; and he reached the station in time to catch an Edinburgh train. There was no one else in the compartment he entered, and he sat in a corner, thinking hard. Though he had not learned much he felt that he was right in his surmise. Some one was trying to put pressure on him through his creditors. His first guess at his unknown antagonist's object caused him serious alarm; but after some reflection he dismissed it with relief as improbable and sought for another explanation.
To begin with, he must first discover the ident.i.ty of his enemy. His suspicions centered on Appleyard. Andrew Johnstone was certainly hostile, on his cousin's account; and it was possible that he had been helped by Mackellar, whom Williamson had met at Appleyard. He determined to see Mackellar; but he could not do so until next day, for a more important matter demanded attention first.
Getting out at the Waverley station, he took a cable tram, and, leaving it on the outskirts of the city, walked on to Leith. Here at dusk he met a man dressed like a sailor, and spent an hour with him in the back room of a public house. When they came out the sailor disappeared in the darkness and Williamson returned to Edinburgh, where he dined and slept at a fas.h.i.+onable hotel. The next morning he went to Glasgow, and left it shortly after his arrival by a train which took him to Dumfries. It was not without a reason he had traveled by three different railways. Williamson generally tried to cover his tracks.
After lunch at the station hotel, he walked down the narrow High Street and stopped at a garage, to order a motorcycle to be ready in half an hour. Then, by an indirect route, he went to Mackellar's offices.
As it happened, Mackellar was then talking to Andrew and Whitney in his private room, and he smiled as he showed them Williamson's card.
”Maybe ye had better ask Mr. Davies to let ye out by the back,” he said. ”If ye call again in half an hour, I may have some news.”
”I wonder how Williamson got here?” Andrew said when they reached the street. ”There's no train that connects with the North British.”
”Came in a car, perhaps,” Whitney suggested. ”Somehow, I'd like to know. Let's try our garage; everybody puts up there.”
They went to the garage and Whitney began to make an unnecessary adjustment to the engine of his side-car.
”I suppose Mr. Williamson comes here when he's in town?” he said to a man at work near by.