The Seven Dials mystery
table directly facing him and she stared and stared at the mocking
piece of hanging stuff, with the clock dial on it, that hid his
features.
He sat quite immovable and Bundle got an odd sensation of power
radiating from him. His inactivity was not the inactivity of
weakness--and she wished violently, almost hysterically, that he would
speak--that he would make some sign, some gesture--not just sit there
like a gigantic spider in the middle of its web waiting remorselessly
for its prey.
She shivered and as she did so Mosgorovsky rose. His voice, smooth,
silky, persuasive, seemed curiously far away.
"Lady Eileen, you have been present unasked at the secret councils
of this society. It is therefore necessary that you should identify
yourself with our aims and ambitions. The place 2 o'clock, you may
notice, is vacant. It is that place that is offered to you."
Bundle gasped. The thing was like a fantastic nightmare. Was it
possible that she, Bundle Brent, was being asked to join a murderous
secret society? Had the same proposition been made to Bill, and had he
refused indignantly?
"I can't do that," she said bluntly.
"Do not answer precipitately."
She fancied that Mosgorovsky, beneath his clock mask, was smiling
significantly into his beard.
"You do not as yet know, Lady Eileen, what it is you are refusing."
"I can make a pretty good guess," said Bundle.
"Can you?"
It was the voice of 7 o'clock. It awoke some vague chord of memory in
Bundle's brain. Surely she knew that voice?
Very slowly No. 7 raised a hand to his head and fumbled with the
fastening of the mask.
Bundle held her breath. At last--she was going to _know_.
The mask fell.
_Bundle found herself looking into the expressionless, wooden face of
Superintendent Battle._
CHAPTER XXXII
BUNDLE IS DUMFOUNDED
"That's right," said Battle, as Mosgorovsky leapt up and came round to
Bundle. "Get a chair for her. It's been a bit of a shock, I can see."
Bundle sank down on a chair. She felt limp and faint with surprise.
Battle went on talking in a quiet, comfortable way wholly
characteristic of him.
"You didn't expect to see me, Lady Eileen. No, and no more did some
of the others sitting round this table. Mr. Mosgorovsky's been my
lieutenant in a manner of speaking. He's been in the know all along.
But most of the others have taken their orders blindly from him."
Still Bundle said no word. She was--a most unusual state of affairs for
her--simply incapable of speech.
Battle nodded at her comprehendingly, seeming to understand the state
of her feelings.
"You'll have to get rid of one or two preconceived ideas of yours,
I'm afraid, Lady Eileen. About this society, for instance--I know
it's common enough in books--a secret organization of criminals with
a mysterious super-criminal at the head of it whom no one ever sees.
That sort of thing may exist in real life, but I can only say that I've
never come across anything of the sort, and I've had a good deal of
experience one way or another.
"But there's a lot of romance in the world, Lady Eileen. People,
especially young people, like reading about such things, and they like
still better really _doing_ them. I'm going to introduce you now to a
very creditable band of amateurs that has done remarkably fine work for
my Department, work that nobody else could have done. If they've chosen
rather melodramatic trappings, well, why shouldn't they? They've been
willing to face real danger--danger of the very worst kind--and they've
done it for these reasons: love of danger for its own sake--which to my
mind is a very healthy sign in these Safety First days--and an honest
wish to serve their country.
"And now, Lady Eileen, I'm going to introduce you. First of all,
there's Mr. Mosgorovsky, whom you already know in a manner of speaking.
As you're aware, he runs the club and he runs a host of other things
too. He's our most valuable Secret Anti-Bolshevist Agent in England.
No. 5 is Count Andras of the Hungarian Embassy, a very near and dear
friend of the late Mr. Gerald Wade. No. 4 is Mr. Hayward Phelps, an
American journalist, whose British sympathies are very keen and whose
aptitude for scenting 'news' is remarkable. No. 3--"
He stopped, smiling, and Bundle stared dumfounded into the sheepish,
grinning face of Bill Eversleigh.
"No. 2," went on Battle in a graver voice, "can only show an empty
place. It is the place belonging to Mr. Ronald Devereux, a very gallant
young gentleman who died for his country if any man ever did. No.
1--well, No. 1 was Mr. Gerald Wade, another very gallant gentleman
who died in the same way. His place was taken--not without some grave
misgivings on my part--by a lady--a lady who has proved her fitness to
have it and who has been a great help to us."
The last to do so, No. 1, removed her mask, and Bundle looked without
surprise into the beautiful, dark face of Countess Radzky.
"I might have known," said Bundle resentfully, "that you were too
completely the beautiful foreign adventuress to be anything of the kind
really."
"But you don't know the real joke," said Bill. "_Bundle, this is Babe
St. Maur_--you remember my telling you about her and what a ripping
actress she was--and she's about proved it."
"That's so," said Miss St. Maur in pure transatlantic nasal. "But it's
not a terrible lot of credit to me, because Poppa and Momma came from
that part of Yurrup--so I got the patter fairly easy. Gee, but I nearly
gave myself away once at the Abbey, talking about gardens."
She paused and then said abruptly:
"It's--it's not been just fun. You see, I was kinder engaged to Ronny,
and when he handed in his checks--well, I had to do something to track
down the skunk who murdered him. That's all."
"I'm completely bewildered," said Bundle. "Nothing is what it seems."
"It's very simple, Lady Eileen," said Superintendent Battle. "It began
with some of the young people wanting a bit of excitement. It was Mr.
Wade who first got on to me. He suggested the formation of a band of
what you might call amateur workers to do a bit of secret service work.
I warned him that it might be dangerous--but he wasn't the kind to
weigh that in the balance. I made it plain to him that any one who came
in must do so on that understanding. But, bless you, that wasn't going
to stop any of Mr. Wade's friends. And so the thing began."
"But what was the object of it all?" asked Bundle.
"We wanted a certain man--wanted him badly. He wasn't an ordinary
crook. He worked in Mr. Wade's world, a kind of Raffles, but much
more dangerous than any Raffles ever was or could be. He was out
for big stuff, international stuff. Twice already valuable secret
inventions had been stolen, and clearly stolen by someone who had
inside knowledge. The professionals had had a try--and failed. Then the
amateurs took on--and succeeded."
"Succeeded?"
"Yes--but they didn't come out of it unscathed. The man was dangerous.
Two lives fell victim to him and he got away with it. But the Seven
Dials stuck to it. And as I say, they succeeded. Thanks to Mr.
Eversleigh, the man was caught at last red-handed."
"Who was he?" asked Bundle. "Do I know him?"
"You know him very well, Lady Eileen. His name is Mr. Jimmy Thesiger,
and he was arrested this afternoon."
CHAPTER XXXIII
BATTLE EXPLAINS
Superintendent Battle settled to explain. He spoke comfortably and
cozily.
"I didn't suspect him myself for a long time. The first hint of it
I had was when I heard what Mr. Devereux's last words had been.
Naturally, you took them to mean that Mr. Devereux was trying to send
word to Mr. Thesiger that the Seven Dials had killed him. That's what
the words seemed to mean on their face value. But of course I knew
that that couldn't be so. It was the Seven Dials that Mr. Devereux
wanted told--and what he wanted them told was something about Mr. Jimmy
Thesiger.
"The thing seemed incredible, because Mr. Devereux and Mr. Thesiger
were close friends. But I remembered something else--that these thefts
must have been committed by someone who was absolutely in the know.
Someone who, if not in the Foreign Office himself, was in the way of
hearing all its chit-chat. And I found it very hard to find out where
Mr. Thesiger got his money. The income his father left him was a small
one, yet he was able to live at a most expensive rate. Where did the
money come from?
"I knew that Mr. Wade had been very excited by something that he had
found out. He was quite sure that he was on the right track. He didn't
confide in anyone about what he thought that track was, but he did say
something to Mr. Devereux about being on the point of making sure. That
was just before they both went down to Chimneys for that week-end.
As you know, Mr. Wade died there--apparently from an overdose of a
sleeping draught. It seemed straightforward enough, but Mr. Devereux
did not accept that explanation for a minute. He was convinced that
Mr. Wade had been very cleverly put out of the way and that someone in
the house must actually be the criminal we were all after. He came, I
think, very near confiding in Mr. Thesiger, for he certainly had no
suspicions of him at that moment. But something held him back.
"Then he did rather a curious thing. He arranged seven clocks upon the
mantelpiece, throwing away the eighth. It was meant as a symbol that
the Seven Dials would revenge the death of one of their members--and he
watched eagerly to see if anyone betrayed themselves or showed signs of
perturbation."
"And it was Jimmy Thesiger who poisoned Gerry Wade?"
"Yes, he slipped the stuff into a whisky and soda which Mr. Wade had
downstairs before retiring to bed. That's why he was already feeling
sleepy when he wrote that letter to Miss Wade."
"Then the footman, Bauer, hadn't anything to do with it?" asked Bundle.
"Bauer was one of our people, Lady Eileen. It was thought likely that
our crook would go for Herr Eberhard's invention and Bauer was got
into the house to watch events on our behalf. But he wasn't able to do
much. As I say, Mr. Thesiger administered the fatal dose easily enough.
Later, when everyone was asleep, a bottle, glass and empty chloral
bottle were placed by Mr. Wade's bedside by Mr. Thesiger. Mr. Wade was
unconscious then, and his fingers were probably pressed round the glass
and the bottle so that they should be found there if any questions
should arise. I don't know what effect the seven clocks on the
mantelpiece made on Mr. Thesiger. He certainly didn't let on anything
to Mr. Devereux. All the same, I think he had a bad five minutes now
and again thinking of them. And I think he kept a pretty wary eye on
Mr. Devereux after that.
"We don't know exactly what happened next. No one saw much of Mr.
Devereux after Mr. Wade's death. But it is clear that he worked along
the same lines that he knew Mr. Wade had been working on and reached
the same result--namely, that Mr. Thesiger was the man. I fancy, too,
that he was betrayed in the same way."
"You mean?"
"Through Miss Loraine Wade. Mr. Wade was devoted to her--I believe he
hoped to marry her--she wasn't really his sister, of course--and there
is no doubt that he told her more than he should have done. But Miss
Loraine Wade was devoted body and soul to Mr. Thesiger. She would do
anything he told her. She passed on the information to him. In the same
way, later, Mr. Devereux was attracted to her, and probably warned
her against Mr. Thesiger. So Mr. Devereux in turn was silenced--and
died trying to send word to the Seven Dials that his murderer was Mr.
Thesiger."
"How ghastly," cried Bundle. "If I had only known."