CHAPTER XXXI
IN THE DEN OF THE APACHES
Cleek, once in the train, pulled out the crumpled slip of paper he hadfound near the telephone in the Desmond home and reread it with knittedbrows. It was, to all appearances, a bridge score, and a heavy one atthat, but on the back was pencilled in a woman's handwriting:
"Bring pearl to old place, 14 Ratcliff Highway," and the signaturebeneath it was the one word, "Margot."
His first step on reaching London again was to make his way by deviouscuts and many doublings and twistings to his rooms in Portman Square. Tohis immense surprise, there was a light burning there and when, havingrun swiftly and silently up the stairs, he advanced suddenly into theroom, both he and its occupant had the surprise of their lives. It wasDollops, sitting disconsolately before the remains of a supper qualifiedto disturb the digestion of an ostrich.
"Dollops!" gasped his master, shutting the door behind him and facingthe lad with astonished eyes. "Why, I thought you were at HamptonCourt!"
"Lor' lumme sir, but I jest couldn't stop there 'aving a 'olidaywithout you, so I just bunked my things into the blooming boat, and 'ada scrap of somefin' to eat, me feeling as holler as a sandwich-board,and back I comes," he explained, disjointedly, not meeting Cleek's keeneyes. "I meant to go down to the Yard in the morning for to try and cadeyour address out of Lennard."
"A pretty tough job that, my boy, even if he knew," said Cleek with alittle smile. "Well, since you're here, Dollops, all the better. I'vegot a ticklish job ahead of me, and so, if I'm not back here before nineo'clock to-morrow morning, you can wire to Mr. Narkom to come on to me.These are the two addresses." He scribbled rapidly in his note-book."But mind, not a single syllable before. You understand me?"
"Not 'arf, guv'nor. I'll stay 'ere as mum as a mouse," was the ferventreply.
"Good!" Cleek crossed to his locked medicine chest and drew from it alittle phial containing some dark, thick-looking liquid, and put it intohis breast-pocket. Then he whipped out his make-up box, twisted a shortthick black beard about his chin; grew, in some mysterious manner, achoppy little moustache upon his upper lip; threw off his clothing,threw on some others, and lo! in the twinkling of an eye he stood beforethe amazed and admiring Dollops, as perfect a representation of atypical Paris Apache as ever was.
Dollops gave a gasp of amazement, and stepped back a foot or two.
"Gor' save us, sir," he whispered in an awe-struck voice, "but if I'adn't seen yer do it wiv my own blessed peepers I wouldn't 'ave thoughtit possible. You've got it all over me the night I bust into theCountess's Ball."
One more warning of complete silence, one more promise of fulfilment ofit, and Cleek, with that litheness which characterized all hismovements, had passed out into the night. Some five minutes laterDollops, armed with his beloved master's biggest revolver, sallied forthin his wake, and succeeded in following him, unseen, right up to thedoor of one of the evillest-looking dens of Limehouse.
Here Cleek knocked at the door, and on its being opened by avicious-looking Apache, slipped quickly in. Dollops, knowing this wasbeyond his powers, contented himself with watching and reconnoitringfrom the outside.
Meanwhile Cleek, speaking the old Apache slang, had managed to persuadethe men that he was from Desmond House, producing as evidence thecrumpled bridge score.
"Name of a devil, yes! But what has become of Borelle? We sent him downto fetch the pearl this morning," said one of them, leaping forward andlaying a hard hand on Cleek's arm. "At the last minute Margot was sureit would not arrive safe if trusted to the woman--the fickle jades thatthey are! But what has become of Borelle?"
Cleek shrugged a pair of nonchalant shoulders.
"Bah! how should I know?" he flung out, roughly, with a harsh laugh. "Iwas told to say that the trick has succeeded, _mes freres_, and that thejewels are coming. Perhaps _le cher Borelle_ will bring them alonglater, who knows?"
Then someone opened the door. It was Margot, flushed, triumphant, a veryqueen returned from a revel at Covent Garden, a band of Apaches abouther. Margot!
The disguised Cleek endeavoured to evade her sharp eyes, but that was animpossibility, and unwillingly he was dragged out of his corner, wherehe had pretended to fall asleep, overcome by the noise and the absinthe,and made to give his story over again.
"_Hola_, then, but we must wait for the good Borelle," shouted Margot,as she pushed him from her with a sharp slap of her hand across hisstupid face. "Drink, _mes enfants_, drink to the good day when we getthat rat, the Cracksman, into our power, that Rat who deserted us for apale-faced English woman. To the day!"
They lifted their glasses, draining them to the bottom, while Cleeklaughed foolishly, as though the whole thing were a great joke, thenslid back into his corner, edging his way toward the door.
Just then Borelle himself entered, carrying a bag upon which Margot fellwith all the voracity of a young tigress. She tore it open, only to findthat it contained nothing more valuable than a rather large bathsponge--only Cleek's keen eyes noticed that it seemed rather heavy.
Like a flash Margot turned upon Borelle, her eyes flashing with anger,but he held up a silencing hand.
"The great Cleek is handling the case, Margot," he said, swiftly. "Thepig of a Narkom is down there, and the Cracksman followed him disguisedas a Frenchman. I saw him myself, though it was almost impossible toknow him. The fat Narkom was at the booking-office. He took the train toPortsmouth. I took a ticket fifty miles farther east. I saw the reliefon the fat pig's face, and laughed at the child's play that had deceivedhim. And I saw him enter the carriage where the Frenchman sat. Is notthat proof enough? Cleek is there. Cleek! Cleek! Cleek!"
The cry went up like a ribbon of flame licking round a burning building.It caught the whole crowd by the heels, as it were, sending them drunkwith rage. With one accord they darted toward the stranger in theirmidst, and shoved him rudely toward Margot.
"What are you?" they shouted, discordantly mad with the madness of apossible triumph, and caught at the beard upon his chin. It came awayin their hands.
"The Cracksman! _Nom de diable!_ The Cracksman at last, at last!"screamed Margot in a very frenzy of joy. "Save yourself now, O FortyFaces, if you can! What shall we do with him, _mes amis_? Shall it bethe knife, the poison, the rope? Oh, yes! but we have many ways ofcalling King Death! Come, choose, _mes freres_, and choose quickly. Iwant to see him dead with my own eyes _this_ time--dead, _dead_!"
For a second one roared for one method, and one another; but all atonce, through the din and the noise and the hoarse shouting of manyvoices came the sound of snapping wood and trampling footsteps. Like aflash the cry went up:
"The police! The police!"
They were gone in a flash, tumbling over each other through thetrap-door that suddenly sprang open at somebody's hand, and Cleek foundhimself being left alone. But Margot was the last to disappear, and evenas the footsteps neared the door of their haunt she whirled roundsuddenly, whipped a revolver from the breast of her frock, pointed it atCleek's tall figure, gave a little scream of hatred and triumph and furyall rolled into one, and fired straight at his heart!
He dropped like a log, and lay there perfectly still, perfectlymotionless, until the little band of police, headed by Dollops, chargedinto the room and found him.
Then Dollops dropped to his knees, rolled him over, looked into hisface, and then began blubbering like a baby. "My Gawd! It's Mr. Cleek!Mr. Cleek! And they've killed him! The Gawd-forsaken blighters!" hesobbed in an utter abandonment of grief. "Sir--sir! for Heaven's sake,say something! Tell us you're not dead, guv'nor! It's Dollops, Dollopswho's a-asking of you!"
The still form shifted slowly, rolled over, shifted again, and then fromthe half-open lips came a voice that was as the music of Heaven itselfto the boy.
"All right, you disobedient young angel, get off my back and let me getup," said Cleek, somewhat feebly. "Madame Margot fired a very straightshot, and if it hadn't been for the chain-armour which I put on, I'dhave b
een as dead as a doornail, and no mistake!"
They took Cleek outside, thrust him into the waiting motor-car, anddrove him to Scotland Yard. Here breakfast awaited him, and he was ableto wash the paint from his face and brush his hair; then, somewhattired, somewhat stiff, but ever the same smiling, well-groomed man, hewent down at last to the limousine, entered it, and prepared himself fora comfortable snooze. Meanwhile, Lennard raced down to Portsmouth at apace that by comparison made the speed limit as slow as that of atortoise.
It was close on ten when the limousine dashed up to the steps of DesmondHouse, and Cleek tumbled out of it, to find a much-perturbedSuperintendent, the very devil of anxiety shining in his eyes. For Cleekhad never before missed an appointment.
"Gad! I was afraid something had happened to you. I've nearly gonefrantic," Mr. Narkom said, with a little sobbing laugh of thankfulness,and Cleek's hand sought his.
"I've had a pretty close shave, my friend," answered that gentleman witha wry smile, "and I've a yarn to spin to you later that'll turn yourhair gray. It's a wonder mine isn't white! But I'm here, thanks to thatyoung monkey, Dollops. And now let me finish my task." He flashed roundon Brian Desmond, who stood near, and gave him a quick smile.
"Mr. Desmond," said he, briskly, "first of all, I want to show you howyour money was taken, and then perhaps I will show you later who tookit. So, to begin with, the library, if you please. I'm tired, I'm'bed-hungry,' and I'm going there when I've finished, just as straightas I can!"
But the banker needed no further bidding. He turned and fled up thestaircase, returning in a few minutes with Lady Beryl and EstelleJardine. They all trooped into the library.
As Mr. Narkom was about to close the door, Cleek patted his pocket witha comical gesture of dismay.
"Blest if I haven't forgotten that book now, Mr. Narkom!" He turnedblandly to the Superintendent. "You might run down to the limousine;you'll find a book and a bottle. I want both. It's open, I think."
The Superintendent needed no further instructions, but left the room asquickly and as expeditiously as possible, and Cleek turned to theDesmonds.
"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting," he said, smoothly, "but now Ithink I can solve the riddle of the time-lock. Mr. Desmond, you saw meset that safe yourself, to open at what hour?"
"One o'clock," was the prompt reply.
"Quite so, and therefore it is impossible to open it until thathour----"
But he was interrupted here by Mr. Narkom, who came tumbling into theroom, his face alight with eagerness.
"Ah," interposed Cleek, before the little man could speak. "It workedall right, eh?"
"I should just think so," was the brisk reply. "I left the----"
"That's all right then," interrupted Cleek, with a twitch of hiseyebrow. "I was just asking Mr. Desmond to test his safe. Have you yourkey? If so, try it, please."
Mr. Desmond stepped forward and inserted it. To his surprise, it turnedin the lock and the door swung slowly open.
"Good heavens!" he cried. "What does it mean? That thing should not havemoved!" He looked at the dial, which stood for one o'clock, rigid,inscrutable.
Then he looked from Cleek to Lady Beryl, who was leaning against thetable, overcome with emotion.
"I won't have it," she burst out. "It was not Elton. I swear it wasn't!"
"Have no fear," Cleek said, quietly. "Elton Carlyle was as true assteel, he never tampered with the lock. Perhaps Mr. Carlyle would preferto tell us himself, Lady Desmond."
Before any one could so much as speak a word the amazing intimation hadcome true. With disordered dress and white, haggard face, the figure ofElton Carlyle himself stood in the doorway.
A shriek burst from Estelle Jardine's white lips, and she turned to flyto him.
"Oh, no, no, my girl; you don't make another attempt," snapped outCleek. "You thought you were safe this time, didn't you, and that thedead tell no tales, eh?"
Speaking, he had sprung with a sharp movement, and immediately there wasa scream, a struggle, and a click of clamping handcuffs.
"Well, my sweet-voiced little traitress, so I've got one more of yourprecious gang, have I?" Cleek snapped out, triumphantly, staring downinto her upturned face. "I suppose your precious brother, GustaveBorelle, is at the bottom of it. Oh, yes, you may shriek, you mayscream, but I hadn't forgotten Nita Borelle any more than her brotherhad forgotten Cleek!"
"Cleek!" broke out Carlyle in a weak voice. And "Cleek!" chimed in LadyBeryl and her husband in one breath.
"Yes, just Cleek, Mr. Desmond. Mr. Carlyle, you must keep quiet andrest. I know the effects of that drug this she-devil used on you, andthe reaction of the reviving antidote that I sent Mr. Narkom upstairswith. You must retire to your bed for a few days. I take it that youwere busy with the accounts when that hypocrite"--he flashed a glance ofcontempt at the huddled figure of Nita Borelle--"came into the room."
"That is so," said Carlyle. "She said Lady Beryl wanted to know whetherI liked a new scent, a bottle of which she had just opened. Like aguileless fool, I buried my face in the handkerchief, which waschock-full of chloroform; and then I felt a deadly stab in the shoulder,and an agony which caused me to faint. And that was the end."
"And might, indeed, have been the end if she had injected but a few moredrops of the hellish compound," said Cleek, grimly.
"But how did the Eugenie pearl vanish with the other jewels? I had notgot Mr. Desmond's message about putting it in the safe."
"No, but Nita Borelle _had_. So she knew that it was upstairs in LadyBeryl's boudoir. She must have been horribly disappointed when she foundit wasn't in the safe with the gold and the other jewels. Weren't you,my girl? And then to learn so easily where it was!"
"But how did she get into the safe?" demanded Brian Desmond, eagerly.
"Just a moment," returned Cleek. "Wait till I show you what she got_out_!" And he pulled out of his pocket the very sponge that Margot hadthrown down so contemptuously. The manacled woman gave a little soundindicative of despair and rage.
"After all your work, too, eh, mademoiselle!" And Cleek, tearing asidethe substance, showed how the various stones had been pushed down theopenings of the sponge. "She must have snatched up the jewels, broughtthem to the bedroom, and hidden them while you slept that drugged sleep.How pleased she must have been to be able to add the pearl to thecollection! See, here it is," and he squeezed out the shining jewelitself onto the table. "She wasn't too excited, though, to leave thecase beside Mr. Carlyle. Then all she had to do was to drop the spongeout of the window directly it was dusk, and Borelle could pick it up andwalk off unseen. And now I think the riddle is solved, my friends."
"Yes, all but the safe," said Brian Desmond once more. "I don't see howshe got the money and these jewels out before five o'clock when the safewas opened."
Cleek smiled at his host.
"That? Oh, quite simple, my dear sir, when you see the scheme. Look."
He crossed to the time-lock.
"Do you see, the dial is immovable, but a screw has been taken from theclockwork at the back, so that the body of the clock could be shiftedround a quarter; so that when I set that clock last night for oneo'clock, I knew it could be opened with the key at ten. And mademoisellehad so arranged it on days when it was only simply locked. She hadturned the clock so that when Mr. Desmond set the dial for five thefollowing day, at two o'clock her duplicate key would fit it, when shecould remove the money and jewels, re-set it to open at five, and thereyou are! Only unfortunately for him Mr. Carlyle interfered with herplan--and his interference was very nearly fatal to him. I saw that thetwo little marks which should tally on the rim and the clock body werenot together, and when I tried it for myself, I knew the secret.
"Well, it is solved now, and there only remains one other thing, andthat is to dispose of this woman. Will you send for the local police,Mr. Desmond?" Cleek flashed an inquiring look at his host, who in histurn was mutely questioning Lady Beryl.
"Ah, Mr. Cleek," said that lady, her voice qu
ivering with emotion, "weall have much to thank you for; and yet I will ask but one more favour.And that is, to be allowed to set her free. Thanks to you, no real harmhas been done. Elton is safe, the jewels are safe. Let her go, andperhaps she will sin no more."
Cleek's eyes shone his approval, though he shook his head dissentingly.
"People of her stamp are not likely to reform, Lady Beryl. Still, Iappreciate your goodness of heart, and as the gang at Ratcliff Highwayhave had to fly for their lives, perhaps, if Mr. Narkom could bepersuaded to look out of the window, the law might wink for once."
Mr. Narkom did look out of the window and the click of steel, followedby the swift closing of the door, soon told him that "Estelle Jardine"had disappeared from Desmond House forever.
CHAPTER XXXII
THE PASSING OF CLEEK
"Can't think how you manage to remember the faces of so many Apaches,seeing how many years ago it is since you were one of them," said theSuperintendent, as the limousine bore them back to town.
"It's a trick, and a useful one," was the curt reply of his famous ally.Somehow, although it was in the sacred cause of law and justice, italways hurt Cleek when he had to take advantage of his inner knowledgeof the Apache gang.
"Set a thief to catch a thief, I suppose," he added, with a tinge ofbitterness in his tones, and Mr. Narkom looked curiously at him. It wasnot like Cleek to regret the successful solving of a difficult riddle,and still more unlike him to refer to the old dead days forever putbehind him for the sake of one woman's smile.
"My dear chap," he blurted out at last, "you're tired. That's what itis, tired, and I don't wonder."
Cleek pinched up his chin. "Yes, I am tired," he jerked out, suddenly,"tired of being hunted." He sat up erect then, his eyes hard andbrilliant.
"It's my turn, I think," he continued. "I want to hunt--myself. FromMargot and her gang there seems to be no escape for Ailsa or myself. Ithought we should have rounded them up to-day. Instead," he addedruefully, "they nearly got me----"
"The artful devils," muttered Mr. Narkom.
"I have a plan," interrupted Cleek. "Do not send for me for a few days,no matter what happens. No matter what! Do you understand?"
And, as if carrying out a long-preconceived plan, he slipped from themoving car and vanished in the crowd.
* * * * *
About a week later, about ten-thirty of a certain morning, thewell-known limousine drew up outside Scotland Yard and a certain greatdetective could be seen seated within. Apparently his movements werealready known to his enemies, for hardly had Lennard stopped at the curbthan there whirred along the Embankment another car, its single occupanta woman with white face and eyes blazing with set purpose. Nearer andnearer it came till, obviously following a definite scheme, it drew upparallel with the Yard car wherein was Cleek, waiting apparently to obeythe Yard's summons.
Before the few stray passersby had time to notice the presence of eithercar, drivers, or occupants, the woman, no less than Margot herself, drewher revolver, firing several shots in swift succession at the man in thelimousine. As the form fell forward, riddled with bullets, she gave ashrill cry of triumph. Those near enough heard her exclaim in shrill,piercing tones: "Margot got you at last, Cleek the Cracksman, Cleek theRat!"
Then as Mr. Narkom and a posse of police, startled by the sound of theshots, rushed onto the scene, her car made an attempt to escape. Butthis was impossible; men and police blocked its way, and in anothersecond a screaming, fighting, struggling figure was brought into thebuilding, while Mr. Narkom strove to dislodge the sobbing form ofDollops from the body of his master. And when the gaping,horror-stricken crowd saw Mr. Narkom take off his coat and lay itreverently over the white-faced body, a wave of horror and grief surgedover the little crowd.
Cleek the Detective had been known and loved by the whole force, and thetragedy was an overwhelming one.
Up to Mr. Narkom's room, the scene of so many triumphs, the littlefuneral cortege went, while Mr. Narkom, putting his grief aside,conveyed by telephone and telegraph to Press and people the news thatHamilton Cleek, the best detective Europe had ever known, was no more.Since the news came from Scotland Yard itself, there could be no doubtof its authenticity, and Press and people did their utmost to showrespect to the man who had "made good," only to lose his life at thehands of an assassin, and the papers blazed with threats and demandsfor Margot's death.
* * * * *
But far away on the rocky coast of Cornwall Mrs. Narkom and a happy--ifremorseful--trio, in Dollops, Ailsa, and Cleek, basked in the sunlightof a world freed from enemies.
Once more Mr. Narkom had solved the problem "by death alone."
Money, that most powerful lever which moves the world, had produced adead body. Skillful hands had made up the face to that of Cleek, and hisproposed movements had been cleverly announced to Margot whose desirefor vengeance had been growing daily stronger.
It was highly improbable that the truth would ever be revealed. Even thepapers had been cleverly deceived, and with Margot secure in captivity,happiness secure before them in their love, and the love whichsurrounded them a living shield in itself, the two lovers prepared totread the long road of happiness, undeterred and undismayed.
THE END
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