Part 29 (1/2)
She lay in a huge temple, p.r.o.ne upon its marble floor, in the shadow of a pillar curiously carven. The lily lay beside her. Two men stood upon the other side of the pillar. She was invisible from where they were, and in low voices they spoke together, and Zoe listened.
”It overlooks the river,” said one. ”Two sides of the garden are on streets as lonely as the middle of the Atlantic. A narrow lane joins and runs right down the back. We want six or eight men, as well as you and I.”
”What,” inquired the other (his voice seemed strangely familiar), ”is the matter with Scotland Yard?”
A moment's silence followed. Then:
”I didn't want to call them in. Largely, I'm out for reputation.”
”Mostly,” came a drawling reply, ”I'm out for business!”
A veil seemed to have taken the place of the carven pillar, a thin, dream-veil. Although, in her curious mental state, Zoe could not know it, this was the veil which separated dreamland from reality.
”Martin can come with us. The other two boys will have to hang on to the tails of Mr. Elschild and Sheard. We mustn't neglect the rest of the programme because this item looks like a top-liner. I asked Sullivan if he could draft me half-a-dozen smart boys for Wednesday evening, and he said yep.”
”More expense! What do you want to go and get men from a private detective agency for, when there's official police whose business it is to do it for nothing?”
”I thought there'd be people there, maybe, with big names. If we're in charge we can hush up what we like. If Scotland Yard had the job in hand there'd be a big scandal.”
”You weren't thinkin' of that so much as huggin' all the credit! This blame man'll ruin me anyway. I can see it. What have you found out about this house?”
”It's called 'The Cedars' and it fronts on J---- Road. It's just been leased to a Dr. Ignatius Phillips, who's supposed to be a brain specialist. I've weighed up every inch of ground and my plan's this: Two boys come along directly after dusk, and take up their posts behind the hedge of the back lane; ten minutes after, two more make themselves scarce on the west side and two more on the towing-path. There's a thick clump of trees with some railings around, right opposite the door. You and I will hide there with Martin. We'll see who goes in. There's just a short, crescent-shaped drive, and only a low hedge. When everybody has arrived, _we_ march up to the front door. As soon as it's opened, in we go, a whole crush of us! The house will be surrounded----”
”It sounds a bit on the dangerous side!”
”There'll be plenty of us--four or five.”
”Make it six. He's got such a crowd of accomplices!”
”Six of us, then----”
”I wish you'd let Scotland Yard take it in hand.”
”As you please. It's for you to say. But they have made so many blunders----”
”You're right! Hang the expense! I'll see to this business myself!”
”Then we shall want rather more men than I'd arranged for. Suppose we go and ring up Sullivan's?”
Zoe was wide awake now. A door shut. She sat up with a start. The darkness was redolent of strong tobacco-smoke, the smoke of a cheroot.
She realised, instantly, what had happened--
Her father and Alden had entered the little room for an undisturbed chat and had not troubled to switch the light on. Many people like to talk in the dark; J.J. Oppner was one of them. Hidden amid the cus.h.i.+ons of the big chair, she had not been seen. Since they had found the room in darkness, her presence had not been suspected. And what had she thus overheard?
A plot to capture Severac Bablon!
Now, indeed, she was face to face with the hard facts of her situation.
What should she do? What _could_ she do?