The Crime Club

  CHAPTER V

  THE CRIME CLUB

  Westerham made his way back to Walter's in a slightly happier frame ofmind. He liked to see his difficulties plain before him rather thanto be hemmed about with mysteries that he could not understand. Anddifficulty seemed to be piling itself upon difficulty.

  Much, of course, remained to be explained. He was not sure of thedifferent parts which the weirdly associated people whom he had metthat afternoon played in Melun's game. He could, however, make a guess,and his shrewd guess was not so wide of the mark.

  Bagley, as he had learned from Melun, was the smug manager of a branchof a considerable banking firm. His wife, of course, explained herself.The young man Crow, with the large, cruel, red hands, was probablyMelun's principal striking force in times of trouble. The captainhimself, he imagined, furnished the brains, while Bagley supplied thefinance.

  But what of Mme. Estelle? That she had her part allotted to her in thestrange drama unfolding itself Westerham could not doubt. But what part?

  Some parts that he could conceive were almost too unpleasant to thinkof. Putting the thing at its best, he could not imagine that Mme.Estelle acted as less than a lure.

  But what tie bound her to Melun? What tie kept her within the confinesof this strange collection of human beings?

  For a moment Westerham's heart grew light within him. It was possiblethat the tie was connected with Captain Melun. Was she his wife? If hecould but establish that, then the captain's boast that he would marryLady Kathleen was vain indeed.

  Westerham decided to inquire.

  He was most eager to discover the ways in which Melun and hisconfederates worked. If he had, indeed, been free to follow his courseof curiosity unfettered he would have gone steadily forward until hehad discovered the uttermost of their wrong-doing. He was, however,from the outset balked by the problem presented by Lady Kathleen, andhe realised at once that it was upon the solution of this that he mustset his whole mind.

  Sir Paul was, indeed, confronted by a very Gordian knot of problems. Helaughed a little as he made the simile to himself, until he reflectedthat he was not an Alexander armed with a sword who could dispersethe problems at one blow. His, indeed, would be the laborious task ofunravelling them one by one; nor could he see any better way than bybeginning at the very beginning, which, so far as he was concerned,meant a full knowledge of Melun's intimates and surroundings.

  He was quick to see that, with all the possibilities offered by a greatorganisation of crime, Melun must of necessity have a certain numberof hardier spirits than those represented by Bagley, Mme. Estelle, oreven Crow to do his rough-and-ready work. Westerham resolved to knowthese rough-and-readier spirits at once.

  That night he did nothing except to wander down to Downing Streetand stand for a little while thinking over matters at the corner ofWhitehall. He stood there, indeed, for an unwise length of time, sothat at last he drew upon himself the attention of the constablestationed on point duty. Perceiving this Westerham turned and walkedback to his hotel, where he did his best to amuse himself by aimlesslymeandering through the pages of various newspapers.

  Knowing, too, that Lady Kathleen stood sufficiently in the world's eyeto merit the attention of the Press, Westerham instinctively turnedtowards those columns which deal with the doings of Society. Nor washis search unrewarded, for before long he came across a paragraphwhich set forth that the Prime Minister and his daughter, the LadyKathleen Carfax, would in two days' time give a great reception at LordPenshurst's official residence in Downing Street.

  "Now," said Westerham to himself, "I shall see to what extent Melunspeaks the truth. For, unless he is a liar, I will go to that receptionmyself."

  Therefore he sat down and wrote a note to Melun requesting him to callafter lunch the next day.

  In due course Melun came, and Westerham proceeded to speak to him onthe lines he had mapped out for himself the day before. Much, indeed,to the captain's discomfort, he advanced his theory that Melun hadconfederates of an entirely different type from the Bagleys and Mme.Estelle.

  "In fact," said the baronet, fixing his unpleasantly cold sea-greengaze on Melun's shifting eyes, "it is practically useless for you todispute my arguments, and if you have any hope of my fulfilling my partof the bargain you had better introduce me to them without delay."

  Melun laughed. It was a habit of his to laugh when embarrassed.

  "Really," he said with a slightly bantering air, "you are almost tooswift for me. Believe me, you are dangerously quick. It is most unwisefor a man to plunge suddenly into an acquaintance with the variouskinds of undesirable people which it is my misfortune to know.

  "They are rather touchy about their privacy, and they are apt activelyto resent intrusion. I should leave them alone. Personally, I dislikefuss of every description, but especially the kind of fuss which hurtsphysically."

  Then he caught a slight sneer on Westerham's mouth and reddened alittle. He reddened still more when the baronet said shortly, "Ithought so."

  Melun's composure, however, returned to him almost instantly. "Come,come," he said, "it is foolish to be nasty to your friends. We all haveour little failings. I have mine. Yours, it seems, is rashness; minemay be timidity. It is purely a question of constitution."

  "Constitution," said Westerham, grimly, "is largely a question ofdegrees of force. On this occasion I think that force will win. Pleaseunderstand me distinctly that, however rash you may think me, howeverfoolish my haste may appear, I am determined to see the rest of yourorganisation without further delay."

  Melun shrugged his shoulders.

  "So be it," he said; "we shall want a couple of caps, and you will haveto turn your collar up. Not even the comparatively humble bowler isparticularly acceptable in Limehouse."

  "Limehouse!" exclaimed Westerham. And he smiled a pleased littlesmile to himself. Events were developing themselves in a sufficientlymelodramatic way to be entertaining. "Limehouse," he said again. "I wasthere yesterday."

  Melun drew in his breath sharply and bared his teeth in an unpleasantsnarl.

  "Have you been spying?" he asked coarsely.

  "I don't spy," said Westerham, coldly.

  And that was sufficient.

  The two men ate a rather gloomy dinner in the small hotel. Conversationlagged, for as yet they had not much in common. Each of them, however,from a different point of view, was soon to have far too much in commonwith the other.

  Towards eight o'clock Melun rose and suggested that they should begoing. Westerham provided him with a cap, and having pulled their coatcollars about their ears, they climbed on board one of the Blackwallmotor omnibuses.

  On this they travelled as far as Leman Street, where Melun descendedfrom the omnibus roof. Westerham followed at his heels.

  They then took a tram, and for what seemed to Westerham an interminabletime they travelled slowly eastward along the Commercial Road.Presently a great white tower threw into greater blackness thesurrounding black of the murky sky. Westerham, as the result of hisrecent experiences in the East End, knew the tower to be that ofLimehouse church.

  Here they again alighted, and Melun walked quickly down that curiousstreet which is known as Limehouse Cut.

  Gas lamps standing at long intervals threw a very feeble and flickeringlight upon the small, low-built shops which traverse its western side.The light, however, was sufficient to show the curious hieroglyphicswhich proclaimed the tenants of those shops to be Chinese.

  At the bottom of Limehouse Cut Melun turned sharp to the right, and ina little space set back from the road Westerham found himself surveyingyet another of the queer little hieroglyphic-ridden shops. But therewas a difference, for whereas the others were low built, this was somefour storeys high. The door, too, instead of being glass-panelled, wasof solid wood, and apparently of great strength.

  On this Melun knocked sharply with his knuckles nine times, the firstthree raps being slow, the second three raps being slow, and the lastthree raps being quick an
d decisive.

  Almost immediately the door swung noiselessly inwards, while frombehind its corner appeared the searching, slumberous eyes of a greatnigger.

  The nigger was about to let Melun pass when he saw Westerham, and witha mighty arm barred the way.

  "All right, all right," said Melun, quickly. "You don't suppose that Iam fool enough to bring a man here whom I cannot trust. Let him in atonce."

  The negro shuffled back and allowed Westerham to squeeze himself intothe narrow passage.

  It was intensely dark, so the negro lifted the lantern, the slide ofwhich had been placed hard against the wall, and held it on a levelwith Sir Paul's head, looking at him long and narrowly.

  Then he gave a little coughing groan and shambled down the passage.

  At the end of the passage the huge negro opened a second door, whichswung back upon its hinges as easily and as swiftly as the first.Westerham passed into the room, and with a little thump of his heartrealised, with a knowledge born of long experience of the Pacificcoast, that he was in an opium den of quite unusual dimensions.

  The long room ran parallel with the front of the house, but must havebeen some thirty feet longer than the front of the house itself. Oneither side and at both ends there were tiers of bunks. From three orfour of them came a little red glow where some besotted fool stillsucked at his pipe.

  No pause, however, was made here. The negro crossed the room and openeda third door, which admitted them into a small passage. At the end ofthis a fourth door was opened, and Melun and Westerham stepped suddenlyinto a blaze of light.

  Looking quickly about him, Westerham judged himself to be in aworking-man's club. Half a dozen men were playing pool at a dilapidatedtable, while round about were little groups of men playing dominoes orcards. Framed notices set forth various rules, while at one end of theroom stretched a bar.

  The negro, still with the light in his hand, stood aside watching Melununeasily. Westerham was quick to observe that he had his hand on hiship-pocket. And his smile was slightly amused and slightly anxious asone of the players looked up and gave a little cry, his cue fallingfrom his hand and his hand going quickly to his hip also.

  But Melun was first, and the revolver which he had whipped out coveredthe man's breast.

  The man's cry aroused the instant attention of the others, and for afew moments there was what can only be described as a sort of hushedhubbub.

  "All right," said Melun in a rougher voice than Westerham had yet heardhim use. "All right. Don't get scared. Don't worry. It is a new chum!"

  Westerham, standing very straight, stood smiling at the astonished menbefore him.

  The negro had set his lantern down, and was passively leaning with hisback against the door.

  A little man with a bullet-head and a red face got up from his seat atthe end of the room and came forward with short, quick, jerky steps.

  "Is this going to be a meeting?" he asked.

  Melun nodded. "A meeting," he said, "but not an oath. That I alreadyhave administered in part. The new chum is silent."

  "It is most irregular," grumbled the man with the bullet-head.

  "Never you mind," said Melun in a hectoring voice, "it is my affair,and not yours."

  "It is our business that you bring him here," mumbled several of themen.

  "Don't you bother about things which do not concern you," rapped outMelun, "until I have had my say. I have said this is to be a meeting,and I am waiting to give my explanation."

  At this several men turned and dragged forward a long trestle table,while others quickly set chairs about it; Melun seated himself at itshead, beckoning to Westerham to seat himself at his right hand.

  Still smiling, Westerham looked with his oddly disconcerting gaze alongthe row of faces before him. Melun, he reflected, must have searchedLondon to have found such an exhibition of evil passions.

  The men did not look at him; they looked at Melun, warily and anxiously.

  "In times past," said Melun, shortly, "you have found it just as wellto trust to me. The shares of any spoils we have won have always beenfairly adjusted."

  For the most part the men nodded assent.

  "I have told you," Melun continued, "that at the present time I have onhand a bigger deal than any I have yet attempted. If it comes off itwill mean a cool quarter of a million."

  Westerham drew in his breath quietly; he was learning the facts indeed.The magnitude of what Melun must have at stake almost staggered him.He knew well enough that if Melun spoke to these men of a quarter of amillion, the sum at which he was really aiming must be far greater.

  "_All right. Don't get scared. It is a new chum!_"]

  "Now, most of you," Melun went on, "know that to pull off a thingof this sort capital is required. Our capital has run low. I have,however, been fortunate in securing the interest of this gentleman, whois more than able to furnish us with all the money I need to settle thedeal.

  "I may tell you that he is not new to our kind of work, only hithertohe has gone on his own."

  The men round the table nodded approval, and Westerham, while hemarvelled at Melun's audacity, flushed a trifle angrily. It wasunpleasant to be tarred with the same brush as these fellows. But hesaw that he must sit it through.

  "Now, the very fact that this gentleman has taken part in this sort ofbusiness before," Melun went on boldly, "made him suspicious of ourgood faith, and he asked for an actual demonstration that we were aworking concern, and he would not be satisfied until I had proved it tohim. I should, of course, have asked your permission to bring him herefirst, but the matter is most urgent. The fate of the whole thing mayhave to be settled to-morrow night."

  He paused, and Westerham's blood began to run quickly through his veins.

  To-morrow night! To-morrow night the Prime Minister and Lady Kathleengave their great reception.

  To-morrow night! Sir Paul wondered what connection there might bebetween Downing Street and Limehouse. Melun, however, continued tospeak in the same suave tones.

  "To-morrow, as I say," he declared, "may settle the whole affair.Before to-morrow night I have to show this gentleman--whose name, I mayinform you, is James Robinson--that we are really in earnest.

  "Mr. Robinson," he cried, turning towards Westerham, "are yousatisfied?"

  "I am," said Westerham, in a very quiet voice, allowing himself justenough of American drawl to catch some of the quick ears of hislisteners.

  "From the States?" asked the man who sat next to him.

  Westerham nodded.

  Melun gave Westerham's interrogator a look as though he resented anyattempt at conversation; and to prevent any further questioning he roseabruptly from the table.

  The rest of the men remained seated except the bullet-headed man,who, as Melun vacated his chair, slipped into his place. They wereapparently about to discuss other matters, and were following theordinary course of procedure.

  Seeing Melun rise, the negro, who all this time had been leaningagainst the door, lifted up his lantern again and showed them out.

  They passed through the opium den, and so into the little passage,when, as the negro was fumbling at the door, Westerham heard a long,piercing scream.

  It came again louder and shriller than before. There was a dreadfulnote of fear in it. It was the scream of a terrified girl.