*CHAPTER XXIV*

  *HARD PRESSED*

  When Celine Tenot and Henri Galtier so suddenly appeared outside Ena'sflat as the dark shadow of menace at the very moment of the diabolicaltriumph of the death-dealers, Bernard Boyne realised that, in order toescape, he would have to summon all his wits. The death of old Mr.Martin in Chiswick was an ugly affair--a very ugly affair--and Celinemore than suspected--she knew that somehow by the old man's death allthree had profited.

  At first Boyne was furious to think that Ena's visit to Melun, and thepayment of that respectable sum, had been of no avail. But next second,he had seen that the only means of escape was to keep up his identity asMr. Bennett, to temporise with his pursuers, and then to effect anescape. He saw that, at all hazards, he must prevent the pair ofblackmailers from facing Ena and Lilla.

  Therefore, when the Frenchman had expressed that hard determination thathe wanted to prevent him from playing any more of his "hellish tricks"upon innocent people, he had stood in his path upon the pavement andreplied:

  "Now, Monsieur Galtier, just pause for a moment--and think! Aren't youa fool? Celine's late mistress has been very good to her, and now youcome here and create trouble."

  They were standing together against the railings of Hyde Park, not farfrom the taxi-men's shelter.

  "I wish to create no trouble," declared the Frenchman in very goodEnglish. "Only trouble for _you_!" he snarled.

  "That is extremely kind of you," Boyne retorted. "But if you stillcontinue to threaten me, I shall take measures to protect myself, andalso to retaliate."

  "You have denounced me as a blackmailer!" the Frenchman snapped.

  "I was wrong," said Boyne apologetically. "I withdraw those words.Naturally at first I believed you wanted more money!"

  "Then you believed wrong," was the reply. "Our object in coming toLondon is to see madame and yourself--and to investigate further thedeath of Monsieur Martin."

  "Well, that you are perfectly at liberty to do," Boyne said, withaffected carelessness. "I have nothing whatever to fear. If you liketo waste your time and money, do so."

  "Celine knows the truth," retorted Galtier.

  "Then let her go to the police and tell them. The London police paylittle heed to the statements of discharged servants, especially if theyare foreigners."

  "Yes, I will go!" cried the French girl excitedly. "You areassassins!--assassins! You--both of you!--killed poor Monsieur Martin!"

  "I think you will have to prove that," replied Boyne, remaining verycalm.

  "Hush, Celine!" said her lover. "We do not want a fracas in thestreet!"

  "Bah! The man thinks we are afraid of him. But we are not! We arehere to get at the truth about poor monsieur."

  "Well, mademoiselle, you are at perfect liberty to institute inquiries,"Boyne replied. "But before you go to the police as you threaten, justpause and ask yourself what all this storm in a teacup will profit youand your friend."

  The vivacious girl shrugged her shoulders.

  "Remember that madame is your friend," he went on. "She told me thatshe has recently been in Paris, and called upon you in Melun. Madame,since you left, has several times expressed regret to me that she wasabrupt."

  "Because she believes that I know your secret!" cried mademoiselle,interrupting.

  "Let us walk on," suggested Boyne, turning purposely towardsKnightsbridge. "There are some people trying to overhear ourconversation."

  Galtier saw a man and two women who had halted close by, probablyattracted by the loud tones in which they were conversing. Strangeconversations go on in the London streets at night, as every policeconstable knows. The night-world of London is an amazing world, ofwhich the honest go-to-bed-early citizen knows nothing. One half theworld of London is ignorant of what the other half does o' nights.

  They moved on past the taxi shelter towards Knightsbridge, which was inthe opposite direction to Upper Brook Street.

  "I think you are certainly not fair to madame," Boyne said very quietlyto the girl. "She, out of her own generous heart--for no better-heartedwoman ever lived--sought you out because she felt that she had treatedyou unkindly. Of course, I do not know the real facts, but on the faceof it I think you, mademoiselle, treated your late mistress withingratitude. I say this," he went on, "in a perfectly friendly spirit.You may have formed some unfounded suspicion regarding poor Mr. Martin'sdeath. Why, I don't know."

  "Because I heard the truth from madame's own lips."

  "Some distorted words half overheard, I suppose," he laughed. "My dearmademoiselle, it is always very dangerous to interfere with the death ofanybody, because here in England there is such a thing as a law ofslander, and of libel--criminal libel, which means that those who makefalse accusations may be committed to prison. Therefore, before you gofurther, I advise you to consult a solicitor. He will no doubt adviseyou."

  "We will see the police first," declared Galtier.

  "I have not the slightest objection," laughed Boyne. "If you think itwill avail you, go to Scotland Yard. That is the head office of theCriminal Investigation Department, but"--and he paused--"but I tell youthis, Monsieur, if either of you make any accusations against madame ormyself, we shall at once prosecute you--and further, if you escape backto France, we will follow you there and prosecute you. Here, in England,we will not permit foreigners to come over and give the police a lot oftrouble for nothing. So make whatever statement you like, but don'tforget you will have to substantiate it with witnesses--otherwise you'llprobably both find yourselves in prison. That's all I have to say.Good-night!"

  And, turning abruptly upon his heel, the master-criminal walked backtowards Hyde Park Corner, leaving mademoiselle and her companion utterlyperplexed.

  Bernard Boyne, as he hurried up Park Lane on his return to Upper BrookStreet, muttered to himself:

  "I've given them something to think over! They'll hesitate--and whilethey hesitate, we must act. It would have been fatal for them to havemet Ena--and especially to-night--_of all nights_!"

  Ten minutes later he was back in Ena Pollen's room, where she wassitting with Lilla.

  "What's happened?" asked his wife, for the paleness of his countenancebetrayed that something was amiss.

  "Oh! nothing--nothing serious, I mean!" was his reply. "Get me aliqueur brandy," he stammered.

  Ena went at once to the dining-room and brought a little glass of oldcognac, which he swallowed at a gulp, and then sat for a few momentsstaring straight before him.

  "Tell us, Bernie. What's happened? Where have you been?" demanded hiswife.

  "Been! I--well, I've been right into the camp of the enemy!" he saidhoarsely.

  "Enemy! What enemy?"

  "Celine is here. Wants to see you. The fellow Galtier is with her.They are on the track of old Martin, and want to see you!"

  The two women exchanged glances, for the light in the faces of both haddied out.

  "Celine here!" gasped Ena. "How much does she know?"

  "How can we tell? I've simply defied her."

  "But why didn't you offer to pay? They, of course, want money."

  Rapidly he described to the two excited women what had occurred. Thenat last Lilla said:

  "Well, the only thing we can do is to sit tight. We must--if we are toget the money paid on dear Augusta's policy."

  "Of course, we can't slip out, or it would be an admission, if Celinereally goes to the police."

  "There is nothing to prevent her," remarked Ena. "The girl isdangerous."

  "So is that girl Ramsay. I've always said so," Lilla declared. "Herlover is out of the way, and the sooner she herself is silenced thebetter, for as long as that pair are alive they will always be a menaceto us."

  "I quite agree," said the red-haired widow. "You said that many weeksago."

  "Well, it is all in Bernie's hands. It's no use getting the insurancecompany to pay without taking due precautions
to protect ourselves, isit?" asked Boyne's wife.

  The death-dealers thereupon took counsel together. For an hour they satdiscussing plans, each putting their idea forward. In the whole ofcriminal London no three persons were so callous, so ingenious, or soregardless of human life. They had discovered a means of making moneywith little exertion and with certain results. Boyne, expert as he wasin insurance and of a scientific turn of mind, could deal death wheneverand wherever he desired, and in such a manner that no coroner's jurycould pronounce a verdict other than that death had supervened as anatural cause.

  Not before three o'clock in the morning did Lilla and her husband leaveUpper Brook Street, and when they did an elaborate and ingenious planhad been decided upon which left no loophole for discovery.

  Mrs. Augusta Morrison of Carsphairn had died, and Ena would, of course,excuse herself from going to the funeral. She had mourning which, as amatter of fact, she had worn on more than one occasion when a wealthyfriend of hers had died. But in this case she dared not put in anappearance.

  At home in Pont Street, Boyne sat with his wife and discussed thesituation at considerable length.

  "You must get rid of that girl Marigold," she said very emphatically, asshe lounged upon the silk-covered sofa in the elegant little room. "Shesuspects something at Bridge Place, just as her lover suspected. Well,we've successfully sent him off, and he can thank his lucky stars hedidn't get a dose."

  "I only wish now I had given him a little dose that would have causedhim trouble about ten days after he sailed," Boyne said.

  "Yes, Bernie. Recollect, I suggested it. They could have buried him atsea, and we should not have been troubled by him any further."

  "I was a fool not to take your advice, Lilla."

  "You always are. But take my advice about the girl. She's distinctlydangerous! A menace to all of us! And so is your _menage_ atHammersmith--especially if Celine really does go to the police. Youshould end it all, and above everything close Marigold's mouth. Thatgirl is the greatest peril we have before us!"

  Her husband, who had lit a cigarette, and was lounging in a chair,agreed with her.

  "But," he said, "how am I to do it? We are in a devilish tight corner,Lilla! The game has been a great and very easy one up to now. Nobodyhas ever yet tumbled to the scientific insurance stunt. And there's lotsof money in it. We've found it so. We've got between us eighty thousandor so. A very decent sum. And we could make a million, given a quietmarket. Look at the lots of red- or golden-haired women who are wealthyand who are not of any use on earth. Life assurance companies arealways on the look-out for business, and pay commission to any and everylittle tin-pot agent who can put through a proposal. Remember thatyoung fool of a solicitor in Manchester. And there are hundreds aboutthe country everywhere."

  "That's so, Bernie," replied his wife in a matter-of-fact tone, shehaving taken a cigarette to smoke with her husband. "But here we have aperil before us. We were never in such a tight corner before. This mayfinish us!"

  "Oh! my dear Lilla, don't get flurried. I am not. The fellow Durrantis on the high seas as a man who has had a nervous breakdown. Oh, thatdescription! What a godsend it is to us all, isn't it? Nervousbreakdown is responsible for a thousand and one evasions of thelaw--theft, bigamy, assault, forgery--in fact, almost any crime in thecalendar can be committed and ascribed to the 'nervous breakdown' of thedefendant. We've a lot to be thankful for from the doctors, Lilla," hesaid, "a lot to be thankful for!"

  "Well," she said, puffing thoughtfully at her cigarette, "if the secretof Bridge Place were exposed, then I fear that you couldn't ascribe itto a nervous breakdown, eh?"

  Boyne laughed.

  "No, Lilla. You are always alive--you are amazingly clever!" hedeclared. "I did my best with that French girl, Celine, but--well, I'mnot quite certain whether she won't go to the police and make astatement."

  "Ah! I see," Lilla said quickly. "So we ought to clear out--andquickly."

  "Out of London, but not abroad. But not yet. If all of us leftsuddenly, the insurance company might get scent of a mystery, especiallyif Celine says anything about old Martin to the police."

  "But what of Marigold? Has she any suspicion that Durrant is on thesea?"

  "None. Durrant telegraphed to her to urge her to be patient and that hewill return. So she's waiting--and she'll wait a long time!

  "Ah! really, Bernie, you are wonderful. That was a glorious idea ofyours--those telegrams."

  "Yes. They've worked well," he said. "Both the girl and his sister, aswell as the fellow's employers, have all been reassured."

  "But the girl is a menace, I repeat," the woman declared, "and as suchyou must see that her activity comes to an end. There are a dozen waysin which you can manage it. Adopt one of them, and lose no time aboutit," she urged.

  "Yes," he said in a hard voice, "I ought to have taken your advice longago."

  "Well, take it now," she said. "There are enemies around us--Celine,Galtier, and this girl Ramsay. So be careful. We are in very seriousperil!"

  "True. How serious we have yet to learn. But let's remain cool and weshall most certainly win."

  Almost as he spoke, however, the electric bell at the front door rang,causing them both to start.

  "Whoever can it be at this hour?" gasped Lilla, jumping to her feet.

  "Wait!" said Boyne, in a changed voice. "I'll go down and see."

  He did so. Lilla stood breathless, listening. She heard him unbolt thedoor and open it.

  Then she heard him give vent to a loud cry, half of surprise, half ofterror, as a man's deep voice spoke.