Part 14 (1/2)

Ambler Appleyard raised his head, slowly twisted in his revolving chair, and looked quietly at his employer. And Allerd.y.k.e, dropping into an easy-chair by the fireplace, over which hung a fine steel engraving of himself, flanked by photographs of the Bradford mills and the Bradford warehouse, looked at his London manager, secretly admiring the shrewdness and self-possession evidenced in the young man's face. Appleyard was certainly no beauty; his outstanding features were sandy-coloured hair, freckled cheeks, a snub nose, and a decidedly wide mouth; moreover, his ears, unusually large, stood out from the sides of his head in very prominent fas.h.i.+on, and gave a beholder the impression that they were perpetually stretched to attention. But he was the owner of a well-shaped forehead, a pair of steady and honest blue eyes, and a firmly cut square chin, and his entire atmosphere conveyed the idea of capacity, resource, and energy. It pleased Allerd.y.k.e, too, to see that the young man was attentive to his own personal appearance--his well-cut garments bore the undoubted stamp of the Savile Row tailor; the silk hat which covered his crop of sandy hair was the latest thing in Sackville Street headgear; from top to toe he was the smart man-about-town. And that was the sort of man Marshall Allerd.y.k.e liked to have about him, and to see as heads of his departments--not fops, nor dandies, but men who knew the commercial value of good appearance and smart finish.

”I didn't know you were in town, Mr. Allerd.y.k.e,” said the London manager quietly. ”Still, one never knows where you are these days.”

”I've scarcely known that myself, my lad, these last seventy-two hours,”

replied Allerd.y.k.e. ”You mightn't think it, but at this time yesterday I was going full tilt up to Edinburgh. I want to tell you about that, Ambler--I want some advice. But business first--aught new?”

”I've brought that South American contract off,” replied Appleyard.

”Fixed it this morning.”

”Good!” said Allerd.y.k.e. ”What's it run to, like?”

”Seventy-five thousand,” answered Appleyard. ”Nice bit of profit on that, Mr. Allerd.y.k.e.”

”Good--good!” repeated Allerd.y.k.e. ”Aught else?”

”Naught--at present. Naught out of the usual, anyway,” said the manager.

He took off his hat, laid aside the papers he had been busy with on Allerd.y.k.e's entrance, and twisted his chair round to the hearth. ”This advice, then?” he asked quietly. ”I'm free now.”

”Aye!” said Allerd.y.k.e. He sat reflecting for a moment, and then turned to his manager with a sudden question.

”Have you heard all this about my cousin James?” he asked with sharp directness.

Appleyard lifted a couple of newspapers from his desk.

”No more than what's in these,” he answered. ”One tells of his sudden death at Hull; the other begins to hint that there was something queer about it.”

”Queer!” exclaimed Allerd.y.k.e. ”Aye, and more than queer, my lad. Our James was murdered! Now, then, Ambler, I've come here to tell you all the story--you must listen to every detail. I know your brains--keep 'em fixed on what I'm going to tell; hear it all; weigh it up, and then tell me what you make of it; for I'm d.a.m.ned if I can make either head or tail, back, side, or front of the whole thing--so far. Happen you can see a bit of light. Listen, now.”

Allerd.y.k.e, from long training in business habits, was a good teller of a plain and straightforward tale: Appleyard, for the same reason, was a good listener. So one man talked, in low, earnest tones, checking off his points as he made them, taking care that he emphasized the princ.i.p.al items of his news and dwelt lightly on the connecting links, and the other listened in silence, keeping a concentrated attention and storing away the facts in his memory as they were duly marshalled before him.

For a good hour one brain gave out, and the other took in, and without waste of words.

It came to an end at last, and master looked at man.

”Well?” said Allerd.y.k.e, after a silence that was full of meaning--”well?”

”Take some thinking about,” answered Appleyard tersely. ”It's a big thing--a devilish clever thing, too. There's one fact strikes me at once, though. The news about the Nastirsevitch jewels leaked out somewhere, Mr.

Allerd.y.k.e. That's certain. Either here in London, or over there in Russia, it leaked out. Now until this Princess comes you've no means of knowing if the leakage was over yonder. But there's one thing you do know now--at this very minute. There were three people here in England who knew that the jewels were on the way from Russia, in Mr. James Allerd.y.k.e's charge. Those three were this man Fullaway, his lady secretary, and Delkin, the Chicago millionaire! Now, then, Mr.

Allerd.y.k.e--how much, or what, do you know about any one of 'em?”

CHAPTER XIV

FIFTY THOUSAND POUNDS REWARD

Allerd.y.k.e encountered this direct question with a long, fixed stare of growing comprehension; his silence showed that he was gradually taking in its significance.

”Aye, just so!” he said at last. ”Just so! How much do I know of any of 'em? Well, of Fullaway no more than I've seen. Of his secretary no more than what I've seen and heard. Of Delkin no more than that such a man exists. Sum total--what!”

”Next to naught,” said Appleyard. ”In a case like this you ought to know more. Fullaway may be all right. Fullaway may be all wrong. His lady secretary may be as right as he is, or as wrong as he is. As to Delkin--he might be a creature of Fullaway's imagination. Put it all to yourself now, Mr. Allerd.y.k.e--on the face of what you've told me, these three people--two of 'em, at any rate, for a certainty--knew about these valuables coming over in Mr. James's charge. So far as you know, your cousin had 'em when he left Christiania and reached Hull. There they disappear. So far as you're aware, n.o.body but these people knew of their coming--no other people in England knew, at any rate, so far, I repeat, as your knowledge goes. I should want to know something about these three, if I were in your place, Mr. Allerd.y.k.e.”