Ambrotox and Limping Dick

  CHAPTER XXV.

  WAITERS.

  Dick Bellamy's two letters, the one posted in York, the other in thecountry letter-box by the landlord of "The Coach and Horses," had beenread at New Scotland Yard at about eight o'clock in the evening.

  The first note had contained merely the information that Alban Melchardwas the man of whom Dick was going in pursuit, and Melchard's address,found that evening in the letter received by Amaryllis; the second, thefew particulars concerning Melchard which he had gathered from thelandlord.

  Superintendent Finucane, of the Criminal Investigation Department, hadimmediately put himself in telephonic communication with the chiefconstables of Millsborough and the County.

  To the Government, this fresh proof of the Opiate Ring's influence andpower, and of its ramification even wider than had hitherto beenascertained, was matter of the first importance.

  Sir Charles Colombe had lost sight of the abducted girl in the theft ofthe drug and its formula; while the Secretary of State, Sir Charles'spolitical chief, had suspicion so strong of liaison between certainEuropean leaders of Bolshevism and the Opiate Ring, that the Drug, theLost Lady, and even the Deleterious Drugs' Control Bill itself, hadbecome secondary factors in the greatest struggle of the day.

  To net a Millsborough gallimaufry of decadents, criminals, and potentialrebels had become in a few hours his absorbing desire. And in this shorttime he had almost frayed the smooth edges of the Permanent UnderSecretary's official decorum.

  Randal Bellamy, with his affection for the girl, and his absorbing loveof his younger brother, had as much interest in the affair as any otherconcerned. But he alone of them all had been really welcome at NewScotland Yard; for, whatever he may have felt, he had shown there on hisfirst visit that Saturday--at about three o'clock in the afternoon--aface as smiling and unwrinkled as his excellent white waistcoat. Andthere was a refreshing serenity in the offer that he made to thecommissioner himself, of laying him ten pounds to one on his brotherRichard's success in any _shikar_ that he undertook.

  This wager, made in the superintendent's room, had so much pleased thatofficial, to-day more oppressed by his superiors than by his work, thathe had actually invited Sir Randal to give him a call after dinner. Theothers were merely expected.

  "After dinner" is an elastic appointment, and Randal stretched it aslate as Caldegard's impatience would endure.

  At a quarter past eleven the father could bear suspense no longer, andforced his friend to go with him to the Castle where, between theEmbankment and Parliament Street, Argus and Briareus dwell together inawful co-operation.

  As they walked down Whitehall, the father remembered that this was alover at his side.

  "I don't see how you manage to bear it with all that _sang froid_,Bellamy," he said. "Another day of it'll drive me mad."

  "I'm banking on Dick," said Randal.

  "He's all you say, no doubt. But if you feel all you've told me for mygirl, it's almost as terrible for you as for me. And your brother can'tdo the impossible, tracking without trace. _Vestigia nulla!_" And thefather groaned, looking twenty years older than he had seemedtwenty-four hours ago. "I watch every young woman in the street, halfhoping she'll turn her face and show me Amaryllis. And all the time Iknow it's impossible."

  Then, again, "God, man!" he broke out, "these things don't happen incivilised communities. I suffer like the damned, without thesatisfaction of believing in my hell."

  A few minutes later, as they turned out of Parliament Street, "You dotake it easy for a lover, Randal," he repeated. "I don't understandyou."

  At the moment Randal made no reply, but, as they waited for the lift,"Perhaps I ought to tell you," he said, "that I'm no longer in therunning. I'm afraid it pained her kind heart, saying no to me."

  "When was that?" asked the father, speaking more like his ordinaryself.

  "The last time we spoke of it was about an hour before we missed her.After that I think she went into my study to be alone, and possibly, asa woman will, shed a few tears over the matter; and then, perhaps, fellasleep, and was caught unawares--but it's no use guessing."

  The lift came down, and the escorting constable sidled up and entered itafter them.

  As they left it, the discreet guide keeping well ahead in the gloomycorridor, Caldegard whispered:

  "Then it's even worse for you than I thought, Randal. You're a good man,and I'm an ill-tempered old one."

  "We shall have news, and her, soon--and something else," said Randal.

  "What?" asked Caldegard.

  "I thought you'd forgotten it! Ambrotox, of course. I'll tell her,Caldegard. I once heard a man tell his wife, after she'd been chatteringto him for twenty minutes, that he'd forgotten to light his pipe all thetime she'd been talking. She said it was the best compliment she'd everhad. I shall tell Amaryllis how you forgot Ambrotox."

  Superintendent Finucane felt his spirits rise at the sight of the urbanebarrister, and received even the dishevelled person of the lost lady'sfather with a measure of cordiality. He showed his visitors Dick's twoscrawled messages, and explained how he had acted upon theirinformation.

  Caldegard complained: Dick should have telegraphed, should have gonehimself to the police in the neighbourhood.

  "From what I have heard of him, Mr. Richard Bellamy is the kind thatseizes on a big chance, and doesn't lose it by running after smallerones," said Finucane. "If he has played against time and wins, they callhim a genius."

  "_Will_ he succeed?" asked Caldegard.

  "I am inclined to think he will bring your daughter back," repliedFinucane. "But I don't advise you to be too hopeful about the drug."

  "Oh, damn the drug!" interjected Caldegard.

  "He has appreciated his job," explained the superintendent. "He's notafter side issues. He isn't even out to catch a man who's committed acrime--only to prevent a crime being committed."

  "Has he prevented it--tell me that?" cried Caldegard.

  And, as if in answer, the bell of Finucane's telephone jarred the nervesof all three men.

  While he listened to the one-sided interview between the superintendentand the instrument on his table, Caldegard's control was in danger ofbreaking down altogether.

  "Hold the line," said Finucane at last. "Dr. Caldegard, can you describethe dress Miss Caldegard was wearing when she disappeared?"

  "I dined in town," began the father, his face like white paper.

  "My brother and I," said Randal, "dined with Miss Caldegard. She wore adinner-gown--silk--darkish green, which showed, when she moved, thecrimson threads it was interwoven with."

  "And her shoes?" asked Finucane.

  Bellamy shook his head; it was Caldegard, now steady as a rock, whoanswered:

  "With that frock, my daughter always wore green-bronze shoes and greenstockings."

  Finucane turned again to the telephone. After saying that Miss Caldegardhad worn green silk shot with red, and green evening slippers, helistened for a time which kept his guests in torture of suspense. Then,"I'm here all night. But scrape the county with a tooth-comb," he said,and hung up the receiver. Swinging his chair round, he faced the twomen, and spoke with gravity.

  "Millsborough got my information about eight-thirty p.m. By nine everyavailable man was out on the hunt, to round up all Melchard's places,and to go through all the riverside dens and harbour slums. The countypolice, horse and foot, under the chief constable, were all over theplace. Martingale--that's the man I've just been talking to--rushed astrong party of the Millsborough force out to 'The Myrtles' in cars.House deserted, except a fellow lying in bed, groaning. In the backkitchen a woman's frock had been burned. Unconsumed fragments werefound--green silk shot with red. Upstairs, in a bedroom, pair of lady'sshoes--shiny green leather."

  Caldegard rose from his seat, opened his mouth to speak, and sat downagain.

  In relation to merely normal death the abandoned garment carries anintimate cruelty which will unexpectedly break down control proofagainst direct attack.
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  But to hear, in these surroundings, of his daughter's little greenshoes, and to remember how, the first time she had worn them, she hadflourished at him from her low chair that pretty foot and reckless greenstocking, and to catch himself now foolishly wondering where the greenstockings themselves would be found, brought poor Caldegard to anembittered weakness which he fought only in vague desire neither tobreak into cursing nor decline upon weak tears.

  The great man of science had not attracted the superintendent of theCriminal Investigation Department; but the father grunting savagely:"Oh, damn the drug!" was another man. And Finucane, by no means himselfconvinced that the worst must be argued from these fragments ofevidence, yet found himself at a loss for encouraging words. Pity,however, forced him to the effort, and he would have spoken, had notRandal Bellamy touched him on the arm.

  "Not now," he said. "You can't wash that picture from his mind. There'llbe more news coming."

  With a tap on the door, it came.

  To the superintendent's consent there entered a police sergeant.

  "There's a gentleman wishes to see you, sir. Says he can't keep awakeanother ten minutes. Has important evidence, and a person he wishes tointroduce to you. Name o' Bellamy."

  "Oh, hell!" said Randal, in a voice like his brother's, "fetch him up."

  The sergeant took no notice, but kept his gaze on the superintendent.Finucane's eyes twinkled. "Fetch him up," he said.

  "To save time, sir, he's standing outside."

  "Fetch him in," said Finucane.

  The sergeant moved himself three inches.

  "Superintendent Finucane will see you, sir," he said; and made room forthe entrance of Dick Bellamy, holding by the arm, and both supportingand guiding the wavering steps of Alban Melchard.