Part 26 (1/2)

”At your service, sir.”

I turned round and led the way back into the court.

”This is not a professional visit, I trust?” I said as we pa.s.sed into the smoke room.

”Not entirely, sir,” Mr. Cullen admitted. ”At the same time--” He paused and looked out the window steadily for a moment, as though in search of inspiration.

”I trust,” I began hastily, ”that Mr. Bundercombe has not--”

”Precisely about him, sir, that I came to see you,” Mr. Cullen interrupted. ”I am bound to admit that a few weeks ago there was no man in the world I would have laid my hands on so readily. That day at the Ritz, however, changed my views completely. I feel,” he added, with a dry smile, ”that I got more than level with Mr. Bundercombe when I sent for his wife.”

”So it was you who sent the cables that brought her over!” I remarked.

”But please remember, sir,” he begged apologetically, ”that I had never seen the lady. I sent the cables, confidently antic.i.p.ating that she would disclaim all knowledge of Mr. Bundercombe. When she arrived, and I realized that she was actually his wife, I forgave him freely for all the small annoyances he had caused me: my visit to you this morning, in fact, is entirely in his interests.”

”What has Mr. Bundercombe been up to now?” I asked nervously.

”Nothing serious--at any rate, that I know of,” Mr. Cullen a.s.sured me.

”For the last fortnight--ever since Mrs. Bundercombe's arrival, in fact-- Mr. Bundercombe has somehow or other managed to keep away from all his old a.s.sociates and out of any sort of mischief. Last night, however, I was out on duty--I haven't had time to go home and change my clothes yet--in a pretty bad part, shadowing one of the most dangerous swell mobsmen in Europe--a man you may have heard of, sir. He is commonly known as Dagger Rodwell.”

I hastily disclaimed any acquaintance with the person in question.

”Tell me, though,” I begged, ”what this has to do with Mr. Bundercombe?”

”Just this,” Mr. Cullen explained: ”I ran my man to ground in a place where I wouldn't be seen except professionally--and with him was Mr.

Bundercombe.”

”They were not engaged,” I asked quickly, ”in any lawbreaking escapade at the time, I trust!”

Mr. Cullen shook his head rea.s.suringly.

”Rodwell only goes in for the very big coups,” he said. ”Two or three in a lifetime, if he brought them off, would be enough for him. All the same there's something planning now and he's fairly got hold of Mr.

Bundercombe. He's a smooth-tongued rascal--absolutely a gentleman to look at and speak to. What I want you to do, sir, if you're sufficiently interested, is to take Mr. Bundercombe away for a time.”

”Interested!” I groaned. ”He'll be my father-in-law in a couple of months.”

”Then if you want him to attend the ceremony, sir,” Mr. Cullen advised earnestly, ”you'll get him out of London. He's restless. You may have noticed that yourself. He's spoiling for an adventure, and Dagger Rodwell is just the man to make use of him and then leave him high and dry--the b.o.o.by for us to save our bacon with. I don't wish any harm to Mr.

Bundercombe, sir--and that's straight! Until the day I met Mrs.

Bundercombe at Liverpool I am free to confess that I was feeling sore against him. To-day that's all wiped out. We had a pleasant little time at the Ritz that afternoon, and my opinion of the gentleman is that he's the right sort, I'm here to give you the office, sir, to get him away from London--and get him away quick. I may know a trifle more than I've told you, or I may not; but you'll take my advice if you want to escape trouble.”

”I'll do what I can,” I a.s.sured him a little blankly. ”To tell you the truth I have been fearing something of this sort. During the last few days especially his daughter tells me he has been making all sorts of excuses to get away. I'll do what I can--and many thanks, Mr. Cullen. Let me offer you something.”

Mr. Cullen declined anything except a cigar and went on his way. I called a taxi and drove round to the very delightful house the Bundercombes had taken in Prince's Gardens. I caught Mr. Bundercombe on the threshold. He would have hurried off, but I laid a detaining hand on his arm.

”Come back with me, if you please,” I begged. ”I have some news. I need to consult you all.”

Mr. Bundercombe glanced at his watch. His manner was a little furtive. He was not dressed as usual--in frock coat, white waistcoat and silk hat, a costume that seemed to render more noticeable his great girth and smooth pink-and-white face--but in a blue serge, double-breasted suit, a bowler hat, and a style of neckgear a little reminiscent of the Bowery. Something in his very appearance seemed to me a confirmation of Mr. Cullen's warning. He looked at his watch and muttered something about an appointment.

”I promise not to keep you more than a very few minutes,” I a.s.sured him.