Till the Clock Stops Part 6

Mrs. Lancaster entered quickly.

"Robert, Mr. Bullard is in the library--"

"Bullard!--now?"

"He must see you at once. He has been to the office, and there was a wire--"

Lancaster, who had risen, caught at the back of his chair. "Alan Craig--safe?" he said in a husky whisper.

Neither noticed the girl's sudden pallor, the light in her eyes.

"Nonsense!" the woman rapped out. "Christopher Craig--died last night!"

CHAPTER V

Mrs. Lancaster would have accompanied her husband to the library, but for once, and despite the shock he had just suffered, he showed some firmness.

"I will see Bullard alone," he said, and left her in the hall.

He entered the library, closed and locked the door, and drew the heavy curtain across it. But there his spirit failed him, and he seemed to grope his way to his familiar chair.

Without a word Bullard put the telegram into his hands. It had been sent off at 8 a.m., the hour of opening for the local post office. It was addressed to both men, and was brief:

Mr. Craig died nine last night. Funeral private.--Caw.

"Caw must have had instructions," remarked Bullard presently. "One wonders how much Caw knows about his master's affairs."

Possibly Lancaster did not hear. He kept on staring at the message that had closed the door on his last hope. Carlotta's suggestion, or rather command, had been far from grateful to his inclinations, yet it had forced him towards the less of two evils, and for a few minutes he had imagined himself with Christopher's cheque in his pocket, immediate salvation and peace a.s.sured whatever it might cost him eventually. And now this telegram!

Impatiently Bullard touched him on the arm.

"Look here, Lancaster!--there is a train from St. Pancras at eleven, and it's now past ten. Pull yourself together."

"St. Pancras--eleven? To-night?" Lancaster checked himself.

"No, this morning! We shall be in Glasgow at eight, and a good car will run us down under a couple of hours.... Lancaster, for Heaven's sake, wake up! Can't you take in the situation? Listen! Point one: We saw the diamonds yesterday. Point two: Christopher died suddenly, sooner than even he expected, and the diamonds, in all probability, have not left the house--if he ever intended to send them elsewhere. They may even be still on the table or in the drawer! Point three: The sooner we discover their whereabouts the better, for if they are in the house we must act on Alan's will at once, though I'd have avoided that if possible. Alan knew nothing about the diamonds. Christopher distinctly stated that no one knows about them excepting ourselves and his servant. Well, if necessary, we must manage Caw, somehow. Now--"

"But--the clock--"

"Oh, d.a.m.n the clock--mere tomfoolery! As for Alan's return, if you persist in doubting what I have already told you"--Bullard lowered his voice--"I shall be forced to introduce to you the man who--who saw Alan Craig die."

"Die!"

"Don't get hysterical. At this moment the one thing that matters is that we locate or lay hands on that green box."

"But I--I can't think to go prowling into Christopher's house, and he--"

"Don't think; I'll do all that's necessary in that way, and we shall have plenty of time for talk in the train. Now I want your cheque--open--for five hundred pounds. I'm going to draw the same amount on my own. We may have to buy things--Caw, for instance. Don't argue. We've got to catch that train, and I've got to go to the bank first."

Lancaster sat up. "Bullard," he said hoa.r.s.ely, "I won't have anything to do with this beastly business."

Bullard smiled. "Very well, Lancaster," he said pleasantly; "I'll take your cheque for twenty-four thousand and seventy-five pounds."

"My G.o.d!" It was the sum he owed the Syndicate.

Moments pa.s.sed, and then with a white face he got up and went feebly to the writing table.

In the last hour of the journey they dined. Bullard ordered champagne, and saw to it that his companion's gla.s.s was kept charged. He was not a little afraid of a general collapse on Lancaster's part, but if such were imminent, the wine averted it. The physician, however, took little of his prescribed medicine.

A car, ordered by telegraph, awaited them at the Glasgow terminus.

Bullard, who was known to the hirers, dismissed the chauffeur and took the driving seat. He glanced up at the big clock, and remarked to Lancaster, clambering in beside him, that they ought to reach their destination by ten.

The car rolled out of the station down the declivity into the Square, thence into Glasgow's longest street, then swarming with pedestrians and traffic.

"d.a.m.n it!" exclaimed Bullard, "the air's frosty. We'll meet with fog presently."

He was right. They met it before they were clear of the city, and over the twenty miles that followed it lay thick, blanketing the river and countryside. Bullard was a seasoned but not a reckless driver; besides he was no more than acquainted with the road. He drove cautiously, his impatience escaping now and then in curses. They were nearing Helensburgh when they came almost abruptly into clear weather. The sky was cloudless, starry.

"This is better," said Bullard, "but I'm afraid it'll be a case of routing the estimable Caw from his virtuous couch."

Lancaster struggled out of his stupor of weariness. "Are we nearly there?"

"Hardly, but we can let her go now. I say, don't sleep; or you'll be too stiff for anything. Think over what I told you in the train; don't talk."

Five minutes later they were speeding up the Gareloch; still later, down the west side; then through the village of Roseneath, over the hill into Kilcreggan; then round the point and up Loch Long side....

At the last, as it seemed, of the houses Bullard slowed down.

"Aren't we going too far?" Lancaster inquired in a voice unnecessarily low.

"You are no observer," the other returned pleasantly, "or you would have remembered that there are here first a small wood and then a biggish field, alter which we come to a couple of solitary houses, the further and larger being Christopher's. The other belongs to a doctor--retired, though I believe he has attended our old friend. As it may not be advisable to advertise our call more than we can help, we are going to run the car into the wood--there's a sort of track--and make our approach on foot. We can do with the exercise."

Within five minutes they started briskly along the deserted road.

"No need to walk on tiptoe," said Bullard with a laugh. "Hardly any one living here at this time of year. Don't let your nerves get the upper hand. We're not going to do anything sensational, you know. Cold, isn't it? We shall begin by requesting the amiable Caw to serve drinks."

"Don't jest, Bullard. I'm honestly hoping that the Green Box was somehow put away into safety."

"If not, we must rectify the error."

Lancaster sighed. "If the box is there, do you mean to--to--"

"'Pinch' is possibly the word you are hunting for. Expressive if not pretty. Well, it will all depend on circ.u.mstances."