Part 22 (1/2)
CHAPTER XX
May had smiled itself out and June had blushed itself in--the most wondrous June, in Cleek's eyes, the world had ever seen. For the long waiting was over, the old order of things had changed, the little house in the meadowlands had its new tenant, and _she_ was in England again.
It did not fret him, as it otherwise might have done, that he and Dollops had been obliged to go back to the old business of lodging a week here and a week there in the heart of the town, rather than within reach of the green trees and the fragrant meadows he loved, for always there was the chance of stealing out to meet her in the glorious country-lands when the evening came, or of a whole day with her in the woods and fields when a whole day could be spared; and to a nature such as his these things were recompense enough.
Not that many days could be spared at present, for, although nothing had been seen or heard of Waldemar or the Apaches for weeks on end, these were strenuous times for Mr. Narkom and the forces of the Yard, and what with the Coronation of his Majesty close at hand, and every train discharging hordes of visitors into London day in and day out, and crooks of every description--homemade as well as imported--from the swell mobsman down to the common lag making it the Mecca of an unholy pilgrimage--they had their hands filled to overflowing, and were worked to their utmost capacity.
The result, so far as Cleek was concerned, scarcely needs recording.
It was not in him to be guilty of that form of sn.o.bbishness which is known as ”standing on his dignity” at such a time--when the man who had stood his friend was in need of help, indeed, might lose his official head if he were found wanting in such a crisis--so that, naturally, he came to Mr. Narkom's a.s.sistance and took a hand in the ”sorting out” process in the manner--yes, and at times, in the uniform, too--of the ordinary constable, and proved of such invaluable aid in the matter of scenting out undesirables and identifying professional crooks that things speedily fell into a more orderly shape, and he had just begun to look forward to a resumption of those happy days of wandering in the woods with Ailsa when out of the lull of coming peace there fell an official bombsh.e.l.l.
It took the form of a cablegram--a belated cipher communication from the police of America to the police of Great Britain--which on being decoded, ran thus:
”Just succeeded in tracing 218. Sailed ten days ago on _Tunisian_--Allan Line--from Canada, under name of Hammond.
Woman with him. Handsome blonde. Pa.s.sing as sister. Believed to be 774.”
Now as this little exchange of courtesies relative to the movements of the noted figures of the underworld is of almost daily occurrence between the police systems of the two countries in question, Mr.
Narkom had only to consult his Code Book to get at the gist of the matter; and when he did get at it, his little fat legs bent under him like a couple of straws, his round little body collapsed into the nearest chair, and he came within a hair's breadth of having a ”stroke.”
For the _Tunisian_, as it happened, had docked and discharged her pa.s.sengers exactly thirteen hours before, so that it was safe to declare that the persons to whom those numerals alluded had unquestionably slipped unchallenged past the guardians of the port, and were safely housed at this minute within the intricacies of that vast brick-and-mortar puzzle, London; yet here they were registered in the Code Book, thus:
”No. 218--Nicholas Hemmingway, popularly known as 'Diamond Nick.' American. Expert swindler, confidence man and jewel thief. Ex-actor and very skilful at impersonation. See Rogues'
Gallery for portrait.
”No. 774--Ella Plawsen, variously known to members of the light-fingered fraternity as 'Dutch Ella' and 'Lady Bell.'
German-American. Probably the most adroit female jewel thief in existence. Highly educated, exceedingly handsome, and amazingly plausible and quick witted. Usually does the 'society dodge.'
Natural blonde, and about twenty-five years old. No photograph obtainable.”
Within forty-five minutes after Mr. Narkom had mastered these facts he had rushed with them to Cleek, and there was a vacancy in the list of special constables from that time forth.
”Slipped in, have they?” said Cleek when he heard. ”Well, be sure of one thing, Mr. Narkom: they will not have gone to a hotel--at least in the beginning--they are far too sharp for that. Neither will they house themselves in any hole and corner where their sallying forth in fine feathers to make their little clean-up would occasion comment and so lead to a clue. Indeed, I shouldn't be surprised if they were far too shrewd to remain together in any place, but will elect to operate singly, appear to have no connection whatsoever, while they are here, and to have a sort of 'happy reunion' elsewhere after their little job has been pulled off successfully. But in any case, when we find them--if we ever do--depend upon it they will be located in some quiet, respectable, secluded district, one of the suburbs, for instance, and living as circ.u.mspectly as the most prudish of prying neighbours could desire.
”Let us then go in for a series of 'walking tours' about the outlying districts, Mr. Narkom, and see if we can't stumble over something that will be worth while. It is true I've never met nor even seen Hemmingway, but I fancy I should know if a man were made up or not for the role in which he appears. I did, however, brush elbows with Dutch Ella once. It was that time I went over to New York on that affair of the Amsterdam diamonds. _You_ remember? When I 'split' the reward with the fellow from Mulberry Street, whose daughter wanted to study music as a profession and he couldn't afford to let her. I hobn.o.bbed with some acquaintances of the--er--old days, over there, and went one night to the big French Ball at the Academy of Music, where, my companion of the night told me, there would be 'a smas.h.i.+ng big clean-up, as half the swell crooks in town would be there--for business.'
”They were, I dare say, for he kept pointing out this one and that to me and saying, 'That's so and so!' as they danced past us. I shouldn't know any of them again, so far as looks are concerned, for the annual French Ball in New York is a masked ball, as you are, perhaps, aware; and I shouldn't know 'Dutch Ella' any better than the rest, but for one thing--although I danced with her.”
”Danced with her, Cleek? Danced?”
”Yes. For the purpose of 'getting a line on her shape,' so to speak, for possible future reference. I couldn't see her face, for she was masked to the very chin; but there's a curious, tumor-like lump, as big as a hen's egg, just under her right shoulder-blade, and there's the scar of an acid burn on the back of her left hand that she'll carry to her grave. I shall know that scar if ever I see it again.
And if by any chance I should run foul of a woman bearing one like it, and that woman should prove to have also a lump under the right shoulder-blade----Come along! Let's get out and see if we can find one. 'Time flies,' as the anarchist said when he blew up the clock factory. Let's toddle.”
They ”toddled” forthwith, but on a fruitless errand, as it proved.
Nevertheless, they ”toddled” again the next day as hopefully as ever; and the next after that, and the next again, yet at the end of the fourth they were no nearer any clue to the whereabouts of Dutch Ella and Diamond Nick than they had been in the beginning. If, as Cleek sometimes fancied, they had not merely pa.s.sed through England on their way to the Continent, but were still here, housed like hawks in a safe retreat from which they made predatory excursions under the very noses of the police, there was nothing to signalize it. No amazing jewel theft, no affair of such importance as one engineered by them would be sure to be, had as yet been reported to the Yard; and for all clue there was to their doings or their whereabouts one might as well have set out to find last summer's roses or last winter's snow as hope to pick it up by any method as yet employed.
Thus matters stood when on the morning of the fifth day Cleek elected to make Hampstead Heath and its environments the scene of their operations, and at nine o'clock set forth in company with the superintendent to put them into force in that particular locality, with the result that by noontime they found themselves in the thick of as pretty a riddle as they had fallen foul of in many a day.
It came about in this way: