Hushed Up! A Mystery of London Part 11

The window was hidden by long curtains of heavy moss-green plush, while in one corner of the room, upon a black marble pedestal, stood a beautiful sculptured statuette of a girl, her hands uplifted together above her head in the act of diving. I examined the exquisite work of art, and saw upon its bra.s.s plate the name of an eminent French sculptor.

The carpet, of a peculiar shade of red which contrasted well with the dead-white enamelled walls, was soft to the tread, so that my footsteps fell noiselessly as I moved.

Beside the fireplace was a big inviting saddle-bag chair, into which I presently sank, awaiting Jack.

Who were his friends, I wondered?

The house seemed silent as the grave. I listened for Jack's footsteps, but could hear nothing.

I was hoping that the loss of nearly a thousand pounds would cure my friend of his gambling propensities. Myself, I had never experienced a desire to gamble. A sovereign or so on a race was the extent of my adventures.

The table, the cards, the tantalus-stand and the empty gla.s.ses told their own tale. I was sorry, truly sorry, that Jack should mix with such people--professional gamblers, without a doubt.

Every man-about-town in London knows what a crowd of professional players and blackmailers infest the big hotels, on the look-out for pigeons to pluck. The American bars of London each have their little circle of well-dressed sharks, and woe betide the victims who fall into their unscrupulous hands. I had believed Jack Marlowe to be more wary. He was essentially a man of the world, and had always laughed at the idea that he could be "had" by sharpers, or induced to play with strangers.

I think I must have waited for about a quarter of an hour. As I sat there, I felt overcome by a curious drowsiness, due, no doubt, to the strenuous day I had had, for I had driven down to Ascot in the car, and had gone very tired to bed.

Suddenly, without a sound, the door opened, and a youngish, dark-haired, clean-shaven man in evening dress entered swiftly, accompanied by another man a few years older, tall and thin, whose nose and pimply face was that of a person much dissipated. Both were smoking cigars.

"You are Mr. Biddulph, I believe!" exclaimed the younger. "Marlowe expects you. He's over the road, talking to the girl."

"What girl?"

"Oh, a little girl who lives over there," he said, with a mysterious smile. "But have you brought the cheque?" he asked. "He told us that you'd settle up with us."

"Yes," I said, "I have my cheque-book in my pocket."

"Then perhaps you'll write it?" he said, taking a pen-and-ink and blotter from a side-table and placing it upon the card-table. "The amount altogether is one thousand one hundred and ten pounds," he remarked, consulting an envelope he took from his pocket.

"I shall give you a cheque for it when my friend comes," I said.

"Yes, but we don't want to be here all night, you know," laughed the pimply-faced man. "You may as well draw it now, and hand it over to us when he comes in."

"How long is he likely to be?"

"How can we tell? He's a bit gone on her."

"Who is she?"

"Oh! a little girl my friend Reckitt here knows," interrupted the younger man. "Rather pretty. Reckitt is a fair judge of good looks.

Have a cigarette?" and the man offered me a cigarette, which, out of common courtesy, I was bound to take from his gold case.

I sat back in my chair and lit up, and as I did so my ears caught the faint sound of a receding motor-car.

"Aren't you going to draw the cheque?" asked the man with the pimply face. "Marlowe said you would settle at once; Charles Reckitt is my name. Make it out to me."

"And so I will, as soon as he arrives," I replied.

"Why not now? We'll give you a receipt."

"I don't know at what amount he acknowledges the debt," I pointed out.

"But we've told you, haven't we? One thousand one hundred and ten pounds."

"That's according to your reckoning. He may add up differently, you know," I said, with a doubtful smile.

"You mean that you doubt us, eh?" asked Reckitt a trifle angrily.

"Not in the least," I a.s.sured him, with a smile. "If the game is fair, then the loss is fair also. A good sportsman like my friend never objects to pay what he has lost."

"But you evidently object to pay for him, eh?" he sneered.

"I do not," I protested. "If it were double the amount I would pay it.

Only I first want to know what he actually owes."

"That he'll tell you when he returns. Yet I can't see why you should object to make out the cheque now, and hand it to us on his arrival.

I'll prepare the receipt, at any rate. I, for one, want to get off to bed."

And the speaker sat down in one of the chairs at the card-table, and wrote out a receipt for the amount, signing it "Charles Reckitt"

across the stamp he stuck upon it.

Then presently he rose impatiently, and, crossing the room, exclaimed--

"How long are we to be humbugged like this? I've got to get out to Croydon--and it's late. Come on, Forbes. Let's go over and dig Marlowe out, eh?"

So the pair left the room, promising to return with Jack in a few minutes, and closed the door after them.

When they had gone, I sat for a moment reflecting. I did not like the look of either of them. Their faces were distinctly sinister and their manner overbearing. I felt that the sooner I left that silent house the better.

So, crossing to the table, I drew out my cheque-book, and hastily wrote an open cheque, payable to "Charles Reckitt," for one thousand one hundred and ten pounds. I did so in order that I should have it in readiness on Jack's return--in order that we might get away quickly.

Whatever possessed my friend to mix with such people as those I could not imagine.

A few moments later, I had already put the cheque back into my breast-pocket, and was re-seated in the arm-chair, when of a sudden, and apparently of its own accord, the chair gave way, the two arms closing over my knees in such a manner that I was tightly held there.

It happened in a flash. So quickly did it collapse that, for a moment, I was startled, for the chair having tipped back, I had lost my balance, my head being lower than my legs.

And at that instant, struggling in such an undignified position and unable to extricate myself, the chair having closed upon me, the door suddenly opened, and the man Reckitt, with his companion Forbes, re-entered the room.

CHAPTER SIX

A GHASTLY TRUTH

Ere I could recover myself or utter a word, the pair dashed towards me, seized my hands deftly and secured them behind the chair.