Part 23 (1/2)

Westward sped the little electric brougham, driven without regard to police regulations or any rule of the road: silent and swift, wholly regardless of other vehicles--as though, indeed, its occupants were a.s.suming to themselves the rights of Royalty. Inside, Peter Ruff, a little breathless, was leaning forward, tying his white cravat with the aid of the little polished mirror set in the middle of the dark green cus.h.i.+ons. At his right hand was Lady Mary, watching his proceedings with an air of agonised impatience.

”Let me tell you--” she begged.

”Kindly wait till I have tied this and put my studs in,” Peter Ruff interrupted. ”It is impossible for me to arrive at a ball in this condition, and I cannot give my whole attention to more than one thing at a time.”

”We shall be there in five minutes!” she exclaimed. ”What is the good, unless you understand, of your coming at all?”

Peter Ruff surveyed his tie critically. Fortunately, it pleased him.

He began to press the studs into their places with firm fingers. Around them surged the traffic of Piccadilly; in front, the gleaming arc of lights around Hyde Park Corner. They had several narrow escapes. Once the brougham swayed dangerously as they cut in on the wrong side of an island lamp-post. A policeman shouted after them, another held up his hand--the driver of the brougham took no notice.

”I am ready,” Peter Ruff said, quietly.

”My younger brother--Maurice,” she began, breathlessly--”you've never met him, I know, but you've heard me speak of him. He is private secretary to Sir James Wentley--”

”Minister for Foreign Affairs?” Ruff asked, swiftly.

”Yes! Maurice wants to go in for the Diplomatic Service. He is a dear, and so clever!”

”Is it Maurice who is in trouble?” Peter Ruff asked. ”Why didn't he come himself?”

”I am trying to explain,” Lady Mary protested. ”This afternoon he had an important paper to turn into cipher and hand over to the Prime Minister at the d.u.c.h.ess of Montford's dance to-night. The Prime Minister will arrive in a motor car from the country at about two o'clock, and the first thing he will ask for will be that paper. It has been stolen!”

”At what time did your brother finish copying it, and when did he discover its loss?” Ruff asked, with a slight air of weariness. These preliminary enquiries always bored him.

”He finished it in his own rooms at half-past seven,” Lady Mary answered. ”He discovered its loss at eleven o'clock--directly he had arrived at the ball.”

”Why didn't he come to me himself?” Peter Ruff asked. ”I like to have these particulars at first hand.”

”He is in attendance upon Sir James at the ball,” Lady Mary answered.

”There is trouble in the East, as you know, and Sir James is expecting dispatches to-night. Maurice is not allowed to leave.”

”Has he told Sir James yet?”

”He had not when I left,” Lady Mary answered. ”If he is forced to do so, it will be ruin! Mr. Ruff, you must help us Maurice is such a dear, but a mistake like this, at the very beginning of his career, would be fatal. Here we are. That is my brother waiting just inside the hall.”

A young man came up to them in the vestibule. He was somewhat pale, but otherwise perfectly self-possessed. From the s.h.i.+ne of his glossy black hair to the tips of his patent boots he was, in appearance, everything that a young Englishman of birth and athletic tastes could hope to be.

Peter Ruff liked the look of him. He waited for no introduction, but laid his hand at once upon the young man's shoulder.

”Between seven-thirty and arriving here,” he said, drawing him on one side--”quick! Tell me, whom did you see? What opportunities were there of stealing the paper, and by whom?”

”I finished it at five and twenty past seven,” the young man said, ”sealed it in an official envelope, and stood it up on my desk by the side of my coat and hat and m.u.f.fler, which my servant had laid there, ready for me to put on. My bedroom opens out from my sitting room. While I was dressing, two men called for me--Paul Jermyn and Count von Hern.

They walked through to my bedroom first, and then sat together in the sitting room until I came out. The door was wide open, and we talked all the time.”

”They called accidentally?” Peter Ruff asked.

”No--by appointment,” the young man replied. ”We were all coming on here to the dance, and we had agreed to dine together first at the Savoy.”

”You say that you left the paper on your desk with your coat and hat?”