The crimson circle
He paused, expecting her to demur, but to his surprise, she nodded
again.
“Good-bye, darling,” said the bold Mr. Marl and kissed the tips of his
fat fingers.
“Shut the door,” said the girl and went on with her work.
She was destined again to be interrupted. This time the visitor was a
good-looking girl, whose forearms were gauntletted in shiny leather.
It was the typist who had followed Mr. Marl’s movements with such
curiosity.
Thalia leant back in her chair as the newcomer carefully closed the
door behind her and sat down.
“Well, Macroy, what’s biting you?” she asked inelegantly.
The words did not seem to harmonise with the delicate refinement of
face, and not for the first time did Milly Macroy look at the girl
wonderingly.
“Who’s the old nut?” she asked.
“An admirer,” replied Thalia calmly.
“You do attract ’em, kid,” commented Milly Macroy, with some envy, and
there was a little pause.
“Well?” asked Thalia. “You haven’t come here to discuss my amours,
have you?”
Milly smiled furtively.
“If amours is French for boys, I haven’t,” she said. “I’ve come to
have a straight talk with you, Drummond.”
“Straight talks are meat and drink to me,” said Thalia Drummond.
“Do you remember the money that went out by registered post last
Friday to the Sellinger Corporation?”
Thalia nodded.
“Well, I suppose you know that they claim that when the package
arrived it contained nothing but paper?”
“Is that so?” asked Thalia. “Mr. Brabazon has said nothing to me about
it,” and she returned the other’s scrutinising glance without
faltering.
“I packed that money in the envelope,” said Milly Macroy slowly, “and
you had it to check. There’s only you and me in this business, Miss
Drummond, and one of us pinched the money, and I’ll swear it wasn’t
me.”
“Then it must be me,” said Thalia with an innocent smile. “Really,
Macroy, that’s a fairly serious accusation to make against an innocent
female.”
The admiration in Milly’s eyes increased.
“You’re a Thorough-Bad, if ever there was one!” she said. “Now, look
here, kid, let’s put all our cards on the table. A month ago, soon
after you came to the bank, there was a hundred note missing from the
Foreign Exchange desk.”
“Well?” asked Thalia when she paused.
“Well, I happen to know that you had it and that it was changed by you
at Bilbury’s in the Strand. I can tell you the number if you want to
know.”
Thalia swung round and looked at the other under lowered brows.
“What have we here?” she asked in mock consternation. “A female
sleuth! Heavens, I am indeed undone!”
The extravagant mockery of it all took Milly aback.
“You’ve got ice in your brain!” she said. She leant forward and laid
her hand on the girl’s arm. “There may be trouble over this Sellinger
business, and you will want all the friends you can get.”
“So will you, for the matter of that,” said Thalia coolly. “You
handled the money.”
“And you took it,” said the other, in a matter-of-fact tone. “Don’t
let us have any argument about it, Drummond. If we stick together
there’ll be no trouble at all--I can swear that the envelope was
sealed in my presence and that the money was there.”
There was a dancing light of amusement in Thalia Drummond’s eyes and
she laughed silently.
“All right,” she said, with a little shrug of her shoulders. “Let it
go at that. Now, I suppose, having saved me from ruin, you’re going to
ask me a favour? I’ll set your mind at rest about the money. I took it
because I had a good home for it. I need money frequently and anyway
there have been lots of postal robberies lately. There was a long
article in the paper about it the other day. Now go ahead.”
Milly Macroy, who had not a slight acquaintance with the criminal
classes, stared at the girl in amazement.
“You’re ice all right,” she nodded, “but you’ve got to cut out this
cheap pilfering, otherwise you’re liable to spoil a real big thing and
I can’t afford to see it spoilt. If you want a share of big money
you’ve got to come in with people who are working big--do you get
that?”
“I get it,” said Thalia, “and who are your collaborators?”
Miss Macroy did not recognise the term but answered discreetly:
“There’s a gentleman I know----”
“Say ‘man’,” said Thalia. “Gentleman always reminds me of a tailor’s
ad.”
“Well, a man if you like,” said the patient Miss Macroy. “He’s a
friend of mine and he’s been watching you for a week or two, and he
thinks you’re the kind of clever girl who might make a lot of money
without trouble. I told him about the other affair and he wants to see
you.”
“Another admirer?” asked Thalia Drummond with a lift of her perfect
eyebrows, and Macroy’s face darkened.
“There’ll be none of that, you understand, Drummond,” she said
decisively. “This fellow and I are sort of--engaged.”
“Heaven forbid,” said Thalia Drummond piously, “that I should come
between two loving hearts.”
“And you needn’t be sarcastic either,” said Macroy, redder still. “I
tell you that there’s to be no lovey-dovey stuff in this. It’s real
business, you understand?”
Thalia played with her paper-knife. Presently she asked:
“Suppose I don’t want to come into your combination?”
Milly Macroy looked suspiciously at the girl.
“Come and have a bit of dinner after the bank closes,” she said.
“Nothing but invitations to dinner,” murmured Thalia and the
nimble-witted Milly Macroy jumped at the truth.
“The old boy asked you to dinner, did he?” she demanded. “Well, ain’t
that luck!” She whistled and her eyes brightened. She was about to
offer a confidence, but changed her mind. “He’s got loads of money out
of money-lending. My dear, I can see you with a diamond necklace in a
week or two!”
Thalia straightened herself and took up her pen.
“Pearls are my weakness,” she said. “All right, Macroy, I’ll see you
to-night,” and she went on working.
Milly Macroy lingered.
“Look here, you’re not going to tell this gentleman what I said about
my being engaged to him, are you?”
“There’s Brab’s bell,” said Thalia, rising and taking up her notebook
as a buzzer sounded. “No, I’m not going to discuss anything of the
kind--I hate fairy stories anyway.”
Miss Macroy looked after the retreating figure of the girl with an
expression which was not friendly.
Mr. Brabazon was sitting at his desk when the girl came in, and handed
her a sealed envelope.
“Send this by hand,” he said.
Thalia looked at the address and nodded, and then looked at Mr.
Brabazon with a new interest. Truly the Crimson Circle was recruited
from many and various classes.
Chapter XV.
Thalia Joins the Gang
Thalia Drummond was almost the last of the staff to leave the bank
that night, and she stood on the steps looking idly from left to right
as she pulled on her gloves. If she saw the man who was watching her
from the opposite side of the road she did not reveal the fact by so
much as a glance. Presently her eyes lighted upon Milly waiting a few
yards up the street, and she walked toward her.
“You’ve been a long time, Drummond,” grumbled Miss Macroy. “You
mustn’t keep my friend waiting, you know. He doesn’t like it.”
“He’ll get over that,” said Thalia. “I do not run to time-table where
men are concerned.”
She fell in by Milly’s side and they walked a hundred yards along the
busy thoroughfare before they turned into Reeder Street.
The restaurants in Reeder Street have taken to themselves names which
are designed to suggest the gaiety and epicurean wonders of Paris. The
“Moulin Gris” was a small, deep shop which, with the aid of numerous
mirrors and the application of gold leaf, had managed to create an
atmosphere of cramped splendour.
The tables were set for dinner and empty, for it was two hours before
the meal, and to the proprietors of the “Moulin Gris” such a function
as afternoon tea was unknown. They went up a narrow stairway to
another dining-room on the first floor, and a man who was seated at
one of the tables rose briskly to meet them. He was a sleek, dark,
young man, his beautifully brilliantined hair was brushed back from
his forehead, and he was dressed, if not in the height of fashion, at
least in the height of the fashion which he favoured.
A faint odour of _l’origan_, a soft large hand, a pair of bright
unwinking eyes, were the first impressions which Thalia received.
“Sit down, sit down, Miss Drummond,” he said brightly. “Waiter, bring
that tea.”
“This is Thalia Drummond,” said Miss Macroy, unnecessarily it seemed.
“We needn’t be introduced,” laughed the young man. “I’ve heard a lot
about you, Miss Drummond. My name’s Barnet.”
“‘Flush’ Barnet,” said Thalia, and he seemed surprised and not
ill-pleased.
“You’ve heard of me, have you?”
“She’s heard of everything,” said Miss Macroy in resignation, “and
what’s more,” she added significantly, “she knows Marl, and is dining
with him to-night.”
Barnet looked sharply from one to the other, then back again at Milly
Macroy.
“Have you told her anything?” he asked. There was a note of menace in
his voice.
“You don’t have to tell her anything,” said Miss Macroy recklessly.
“She knows it all!”
“Did you tell her?” he repeated.
“About Marl? No, I thought you’d tell her that.”
The waiter brought the tea at that moment and there was a silence
until he had gone.
“Now, I’m a plain-spoken man,” said “Flush” Barnet. “And I’m going to
tell you what I call you.”
“This sounds interesting,” said the girl, never taking her eyes from
his face.
“I call you Thorough-Bad Thalia. How’s that? Good, eh?” said Mr.
Barnet, leaning back in his chair and surveying her. “Thorough-Bad
Thalia! You’re a naughty girl! I was in court the day old Froyant
charged you with pinching!”
He shook his head waggishly.
“You’re as full of information as last year’s almanac,” said Thalia
Drummond coolly. “I suppose you didn’t bring me here to exchange
compliments?”
“No, I didn’t,” admitted “Flush” Barnet, and the jealous Miss Macroy
recognised, by certain signs, the fascination that the girl was
casting over her lover. “I brought you here to talk business. We’re
all friends here, and we’re all in the same old business. I want to
tell you straight away that I’m not one of your little thieving
crooks, who lives from hand to mouth.”
He spoke very correctly, but aspirated his “h’s” just a trifle heavily
Thalia duly remarked.
“I have people behind me who can find money to any amount if the job
is good enough, and you’re spoiling a good pitch, Thalia.”
“Oh, I am, am I?” said Thalia. “Admitting I am all you think I am, in
what way do I spoil the pitch?”
Mr. Barnet rolled his head from side to side with a smile.
“My dear girl,” he said with good-natured reproach. “How long do you
think you’re going to last, taking money from envelopes and sending on
old bits of paper? Eh? If my friend Brabazon hadn’t got the idea into
his silly head that the fraud was worked in the post, you’d have had
the police in your office in no time. And when I say my friend
Brabazon, I’m not being funny, see?”
Here, he evidently thought he had said too much, though he found it
very difficult indeed to leave the question of his friendship with the
austere banker. Challenged, he might have said more, but Thalia
offered no comment.
“Now, I’m going to tell you something,” he leant over the table and
regulated his voice. “Milly and me have been working Brabazon’s bank
for two months. There’s a big lot of money to be got, but not out of
the bank--Brabazon is a friend of mine--but it can be done through one
of the clients, and the man with the biggest balance is Marl.”
Her lips curled for the second time that day.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” she said quietly. “Marl’s balance
wouldn’t buy a row of beans.”