The Seven Dials mystery
Several people almost fell into the room. Nearly everybody said
something at the same minute. George Lomax, spluttering with obdurate
words which refused to come with sufficient fluency, exclaimed:
"The--the--the meaning of this? Ah! It's you, Superintendent. What's
happened? I say--what has--happened?"
Bill Eversleigh said: "My God! Old Jimmy!" and stared at the limp
figure on the ground.
Lady Coote, clad in a resplendent purple dressing-gown, cried out:
"The poor boy!" and swept past Superintendent Battle to bend over the
prostrate Jimmy in a motherly fashion.
Bundle said: "Loraine!"
Herr Eberhard said: "Gott im Himmel!" and other words of that nature.
Sir Stanley Digby said: "My God, what's all this?"
A housemaid said: "Look at the blood," and screamed with pleasurable
excitement.
A footman said: "Lor!"
The butler said, with a good deal more bravery in his manner than had
been noticeable a few minutes earlier: "Now then, this won't do!" and
waved away underservants.
The efficient Mr. Rupert Bateman said to George: "Shall we get rid of
some of these people, sir?"
Then they all took fresh breath.
"Incredible!" said George Lomax. "Battle, what has _happened_?"
Battle gave him a look, and George's discreet habits assumed their
usual sway.
"Now then," he said, moving to the door, "everyone go back to bed,
please. There's been a--er--"
"A little accident," said Superintendent Battle easily.
"A--er--an accident. I shall be much obliged if everyone will go back
to bed."
Everyone was clearly reluctant to do so.
"Lady Coote--please--"
"The poor boy," said Lady Coote in a motherly fashion.
She rose from a kneeling position with great reluctance. And as she did
so, Jimmy stirred and sat up.
"Hallo!" he said thickly. "What's the matter?"
He looked round him vacantly for a minute or two and then intelligence
returned to his eye.
"Have you got him?" he demanded eagerly.
"Got who?"
"The man. Climbed down the ivy. I was by the window there. Grabbed him
and we had no end of a set-to--"
"One of those nasty, murderous cat burglars," said Lady Coote. "Poor
boy."
Jimmy was looking round him.
"I say--I'm afraid we--er--have made rather a mess of things. Fellow
was as strong as an ox and we went fairly waltzing around."
The condition of the room was clear proof of this statement. Everything
light and breakable within a range of twelve feet that could be broken
_had_ been broken.
"And what happened then?"
But Jimmy was looking round for something.
"Where's Leopold? The pride of the blue-nosed automatics."
Battle indicated the pistol on the table.
"Is this yours, Mr. Thesiger?"
"That's right. That's little Leopold. How many shots have been fired?"
"One shot."
Jimmy looked chagrined.
"I'm disappointed in Leopold," he murmured. "I can't have pressed the
button properly, or he'd have gone on shooting."
"Who shot first?"
"I did, I'm afraid," said Jimmy. "You see, the man twisted himself out
of my grasp suddenly. I saw him making for the window and I closed my
finger down on Leopold and let him have it. He turned in the window and
fired at me and--well, I suppose after that I took the count."
He rubbed his head rather ruefully.
But Sir Stanley Digby was suddenly alert.
"Climbing down the ivy, you said? My God, Lomax, you don't think
they've got away with it?"
He rushed from the room. For some curious reason nobody spoke during
his absence. In a few minutes Sir Stanley returned. His round, chubby
face was white as death.
"My God Battle," he said, "they've got it. O'Rourke's fast
asleep--drugged, I think. I can't wake him. And the papers have
vanished."
CHAPTER XXI
THE RECOVERY OF THE FORMULA
"Der liebe Gott!" said Herr Eberhard in a whisper.
His face had gone chalky white.
George turned a face of dignified reproach on Battle.
"Is this true, Battle? I left all arrangements in your hands."
The rock-like quality of the Superintendent showed out well. Not a
muscle of his face moved.
"The best of us are defeated sometimes, sir," he said quietly.
"Then you mean--you really mean--that the document is gone?"
But to everyone's intense surprise Superintendent Battle shook his head.
"No, no, Mr. Lomax, it's not so bad as you think. Everything's all
right. But you can't lay the credit for it at my door. You've got to
thank this young lady."
He indicated Loraine, who stared at him in surprise. Battle stepped
across to her and gently took the brown paper parcel which she was
still clutching mechanically.
"I think, Mr. Lomax," he said, "that you will find what you want here."
Sir Stanley Digby, quicker in action than George, snatched at the
package and tore it open, investigating its contents eagerly. A sigh
of relief escaped him and he mopped his brow. Herr Eberhard fell upon
the child of his brain and clasped it to his heart, whilst a torrent of
German burst from him.
Sir Stanley turned to Loraine, shaking her warmly by the hand.
"My dear young lady," he said, "we are infinitely obliged to you, I am
sure."
"Yes, indeed," said George. "Though I--er--"
He paused in some perplexity, staring at a young lady who was a total
stranger to him. Loraine looked appealingly at Jimmy, who came to the
rescue.
"Er--this is Miss Wade," said Jimmy. "Gerald Wade's sister."
"Indeed," said George, shaking her warmly by the hand. "My dear Miss
Wade, I must express my deep gratitude to you for what you have done. I
must confess that I do not quite see--"
He paused delicately and four of the persons present felt that
explanations were going to be fraught with much difficulty.
Superintendent Battle came to the rescue.
"Perhaps we'd better not go into that just now, sir," he suggested
tactfully.
The efficient Mr. Bateman created a further diversion.
"Wouldn't it be wise for someone to see to O'Rourke? Don't you think,
sir, that a doctor had better be sent for?"
"Of course," said George. "Of course. Most remiss of us not to
have thought of it before." He looked towards Bill. "Get Dr.
Cartwright on the telephone. Ask him to come. Just hint, if you can,
that--er--discretion should be observed."
Bill went off on his errand.
"I will come up with you, Digby," said George. "Something, possibly,
could be done--measures should, perhaps, be taken--whilst awaiting the
arrival of the doctor."
He looked rather helplessly at Rupert Bateman. Efficiency always makes
itself felt. It was Pongo who was really in charge of the situation.
"Shall I come up with you, sir?"
George accepted the offer with relief. Here, he felt, was someone on
whom he could lean. He experienced that sense of complete trust in
Mr. Bateman's efficiency which came to all those who encountered that
excellent young man.
The three men left the room together. Lady Coote, murmuring in deep
rich tones: "The poor young fellow. Perhaps I could do something--"
hurried after them.
"That's a very motherly woman," observed the Superintendent
thoughtfully. "A very motherly woman. I wonder--"
Three pairs of eyes looked at him inquiringly.
"I was wondering," said Superintendent Battle slowly, "where Sir Oswald
Coote may be."
"Oh!" gasped Loraine. "Do you think he's been murdered?"
Battle shook his head at her reproachfully.
"No need for anything so melodramatic," he said. "No--I rather think--"
He paused, his head on one side, listening--one large hand raised to
enjoin silence.
In another minute they all heard what his sharper ears had been the
first to notice--footsteps coming along the terrace outside. They rang
out clearly with no kind of subterfuge about them. In another minute
the window was blocked by a bulky figure which stood there regarding
them and who conveyed, in an odd way, a sense of dominating the
situation.
Sir Oswald, for it was he, looked slowly from one face to another. His
keen eyes took in the details of the situation. Jimmy, with his roughly
bandaged arm; Bundle, in her somewhat anomalous attire; Loraine, a
perfect stranger to him. His eyes came last to Superintendent Battle.
He spoke sharply and crisply:
"What's been happening here, officer?"
"Attempted robbery, sir."
"_Attempted_--eh?"
"Thanks to this young lady, Miss Wade, the thieves failed to get away
with it."
"Ah!" he said again, his scrutiny ended. "And now, officer, what about
_this_?"
He held out a small Mauser pistol which he carried delicately by the
butt.
"Where did you find that, Sir Oswald?"
"On the lawn outside. I presume it must have been thrown down by one
of the thieves as he took to his heels. I've held it carefully, as I
thought you might wish to examine it for fingerprints."
"You think of everything, Sir Oswald," said Battle.
He took the pistol from the other, handling it with equal care, and
laid it down on the table beside Jimmy's Colt.
"And now, if you please," said Sir Oswald, "I should like to hear
exactly what occurred."
Superintendent Battle gave a brief résumé of the events of the night.
Sir Oswald frowned thoughtfully.
"I understand," he said sharply. "After wounding and disabling Mr.
Thesiger, the man took to his heels and ran, throwing away the pistol
as he did so. What I cannot understand is why no one pursued him."
"It wasn't till we heard Mr. Thesiger's story that we knew there was
anyone to pursue," remarked Superintendent Battle dryly.
"You didn't--er--catch sight of him making off as you turned the corner
of the terrace?"
"No, I missed him by just about forty seconds, I should say. There's no
moon and he'd be invisible as soon as he'd left the terrace. He must
have leapt for it as soon as he'd fired the shot."
"H'm," said Sir Oswald. "I still think that a search should have been
organized. Someone else should have been posted--"
"There are three of my men in the grounds," said the Superintendent
quietly.
"Oh!" Sir Oswald seemed rather taken aback.
"They were to hold and detain any one attempting to leave the grounds."
"And yet--they haven't done so?"
"And yet they haven't done so," agreed Battle gravely.
Sir Oswald looked at him as though something in the words puzzled him.
He said sharply:
"Are you telling me all that you know, Superintendent Battle?"
"All that I _know_--yes, Sir Oswald. What I think is a different
matter. Maybe I think some rather curious things--but until thinking's
got you somewhere it's no use talking about it."
"And yet," said Sir Oswald slowly, "I should like to know what you
think, Superintendent Battle."
"For one thing, sir, I think there's a lot too much ivy about this
place--excuse me, sir, you've got a bit on your coat--yes, a great deal
too much ivy. It complicates things."
Sir Oswald stared at him, but any reply he might have contemplated
making was arrested by the entrance of Rupert Bateman.
"Oh, there you are, Sir Oswald. I'm so glad. Lady Coote has just
discovered that you were missing--and she has been insisting upon it
that you had been murdered by the thieves. I really think, Sir Oswald,
that you had better come to her at once. She is terribly upset."
"Maria is an incredibly foolish woman," said Sir Oswald. "Why should I
be murdered? I'll come with you, Bateman."
He left the room with his secretary.
"That's a very efficient young man," said Battle, looking after them.
"What's his name--Bateman?"
Jimmy nodded.
"Bateman--Rupert," he said. "Commonly known as Pongo. I was at school
with him."
"Were you? Now, that's interesting, Mr. Thesiger. What was your opinion
of him in those days?"
"Oh, he was always the same sort of ass."
"I shouldn't have thought," said Battle mildly, "that he was an ass."