The Vengeance of Larose

I—The Mystery of Marle House-3

Pellew elevated his eyebrows and grinned. "Show him in, John," and Rising at once proceeded to usher in the visitor.

"Ah, good morning, Herr Menns," exclaimed Pellew with an affectation of great affability, as the door was being closed behind the visitor. "Now I hope you liked that last lot of sherry you had?"

"No, I didn't like it at all," replied von Ravenheim crossly. "It's only fit for pigs. It burns the skin off your tongue, it's so fiery." He lowered his voice sharply. "Doesn't that man of yours pretend to remember my name?"

"It is no pretence, mein Herr," said Pellew smilingly and in an equally low tone. "He never does remember names. He's very stupid; and that is why I keep him here." He laughed lightly. "I am the only clever person in this business; and that is how it should be."

Von Ravenheim frowned. "But you're not so clever as you think; and that's what's brought me here now." He eyed him sternly. "My Government paid you £2,000 for the plans of that R8 super-submarine; and they now inform me they are incomplete. All the particulars are not there regarding the inner ballast tanks amidships. The exact measurements are not given."

Pellew looked very serious. "Are they quite sure? I have always been able to rely upon the party who obtained them for me and, besides, as I showed you, the photos bore the secret marks of the Admiralty, as having been passed 'correct.' I pointed out to you the dot under the last M and above the last S in the specifications."

"Well, my people tell me the plans are incomplete," said von Ravenheim sharply, "and I want to know what you are going to do about it. You must get in touch again at once with your agent."

Pellew appeared to consider. "I may not be able to do it for a few days," he said slowly, "for I shall have to go about things very cautiously." He nodded. "But I'll get at the facts as quickly as I can and then you shall know immediately."

Von Ravenheim nodded back. "And we shan't fall out about another hundred or so if you are put to more expense. That's a small thing if we get what we want." A puzzled expression crossed over his face; and he looked round at the bare furnishings of the office. "But I say, does this wine business of yours really pay? I have been here four times and have never seen any customers about."

Pellew smiled. "Oh, yes, it pays me quite well. We certainly mayn't get many customers, but some days good orders come in, and we sell quite a lot of that sherry which doesn't suit your palate."

Von Ravenheim regarded him interestedly, and then, after a moment's hesitation, pulled his chair up close to the desk-table which separated them. "Well, now another thing." He lowered his voice to the merest whisper. "Have you by any chance some precious stones you want to sell, an emerald necklace or a diamond tiara, for example?"

Pellew started, as if he had received an electric shock, and his eyes seemed to be almost bulging from his head. His mouth opened and, with all his habitual self-possession, he knew that he was breathing heavily and that his face had paled. But he recovered himself quickly, except that now he had flushed to a dusky red.

"What do you mean?" he asked slowly. "What have I to do with any jewels?"

"That's what I want to know," laughed von Ravenheim softly. "That's what made me ask you the question." His voice hardened grimly. "But I am struck with some very peculiar coincidences. Six weeks ago, my friend, I saw you at the Rialto the night Lady Bowery's tiara was stolen from her room. That is so, is it not?"

"But what about it?" countered Pellew woodenly. "You were there as well."

Von Ravenheim ignored his question and went on. "Then, a hundred and more miles away, a fortnight ago last Tuesday, you bought some cigarettes in Clavering village about two hours before Clavering Court was burgled and Mrs. Hone's emerald necklace taken while the family were downstairs at dinner." He shook his head disapprovingly. "Oh, it was very foolish of you to have gone into the village at all. One of those stupid, petty mistakes which the most clever lawbreakers do sometimes make. No, no, it is no good your denying it, as I happened to see you myself." He tapped impressively with his fingers upon the table. "Now for a third coincidence. Last night at ten minutes past eleven you came out of number nine Beak street"—he paused significantly—"where a man by the name of Hans Schelling lives!"

"Never heard of him!" said Pellew boldly, although his face had now taken on an ugly expression. "There are a dozen and more people with rooms and offices in that building, and the partly I was calling on has certainly no name like that."

"Of course not," nodded von Ravenheim sarcastically. "I don't for a moment expect that he has. Still——" he spoke smoothly and most politely—"I would just mention to you that this Schelling is known personally to me as a gentleman with a shocking record in his own country, and"—he paused again—"as a skilful setter and un-setter of precious stones."

A long silence followed, while von Ravenheim took out and lighted a cigarette. Pellew had set his face to that of an impenetrable mask.

Von Ravenheim went on. "But we won't refer to those little matters any more, for, of course, they are nothing to do with me, and I'm not intending to interfere in any way." He smiled dryly. "I only mentioned them because if you know things about me it is, perhaps, just as well that you should realise I, also, know things about you." He laughed good-naturedly. "So we are quits! We are each of us quite aware the other is a bird of black feathers!"

Pellew looked more at ease now, and with a grin, which was, however, a rather sheepish one, took a cigarette from the case which von Ravenheim held out to him.

A short silence followed, and then von Ravenheim lowered his voice to a whisper again. "Now I have another commission for you, and I suggest it with no apologies, for I am sure you are a perfectly unscrupulous man. No, no, don't look offended, for it is a compliment I pay you. I have no scruples myself, and I judge your temperament to be not very unlike my own."

"Well, what is it?" asked Pellew, for von Ravenheim had stopped speaking.

"I want you—I want you," said von Ravenheim very slowly, "to get rid of two men."

"Get rid of two men!" ejaculated Pellew. "What do you mean—kidnap them for you?"

Von Ravenheim laughed. "No, nothing so clumsy or so difficult as that! Much simpler!" he spoke carelessly. "I want you to shoot them, stab them or strangle them, shooting them preferred, as that form of decease will arouse less resentment."

"Certainly," smiled Pellew, with equal carelessness. "Who are they and what is the fee?"

"The fee," said von Ravenheim, "will be £10,000, but who the parties are you will not be told until the last moment, it may not be for a few weeks or so." He eyed Pellew very intently. "All I want to know now is whether you are agreeable to accept the commission."

Pellew regarded him very doubtfully. "But I've never taken on anything like that before. Getting hold of official secrets risks punishment enough, but shooting a man means murder; and I should be hanged if I was caught."

"Who said you were necessarily to do it yourself?" asked von Ravenheim sharply. "You didn't steal that plan of the submarine! You bribed someone else to get it and made your profit above what you paid him. Well, bribe someone again! You must know the right party for the job! Remember, to get those fuses for us, a man had to be killed! That sentry was stabbed, either by you or the man you hired. Come, come now, you needn't pretend to be squeamish. It's only the risk which frightens you!"

"Yes! the risk frightens me," admitted Pellew readily. "It is a big one." He considered. "In what class of life are these men? Are they private characters, or public men?"

Von Ravenheim laughed scornfully. "Do you think I should be offering you £10,000 to get rid of a private individual? Why, a couple of hundred pounds or so would be all that it was worth! No, of course they're public men, and very important ones, too."

Pellew looked astonished. "And you want them shot publicly."

Von Ravenheim laughed again. "No, you big ninny, it would be done when they were quite alone. It'd be a country house job. They'd be caught both together one evening in a lonely part of the grounds, and if you took it on, personally, you could fire from behind some bushes. Two quick shots, which no one would hear, and you'd earn £10,000. Just think of it."

"But if they're public men," said Pellew, "they're certain to be guarded!"

"I don't think so." said von Ravenheim. "At any rate, it would only be by a plain-clothes man; and it'd be your business to dodge him. If you did it at night, too, he'd probably be in the kitchen having his supper."

"When's it to be done?" asked Pellew.

"I don't know myself, yet," replied von Ravenheim, "but one week-end when I find out they're together at this country house I have in my mind. At any rate, there are special reasons why it must be done before the middle of next month, somewhere about the twelfth."

A long silence followed, and then Pellew asked. "And what security have I that you would keep your promise about the money?"

"I will give you £3,000 down, directly I see you mean business," said von Ravenheim, "and the balance directly the men are dead. The £3,000 to remain yours whether you are successful or not."

Pellew laughed. "And you can trust me with that £3,000?" he asked.

Von Ravenheim considered for a few moments and then nodded his head. "I believe I can, for I don't think you would relish an anonymous communication being made about you to Scotland Yard. You certainly don't want interest awakened there."

He became confidential. "You see, Mr. Pellew, in dangerous work like mine, I have to be something of a judge of character, and it was because of a certain reputation in that direction that I was commissioned to deal with you when you first approached us, alleging that you were in a position to sell valuable information. I formed a certain opinion of you then, and that opinion has been strengthened since."

"Oh, you summed me up, did you?" asked Pellew trying to appear very amused.

"Yes," nodded von Ravenheim, "and I considered you at once to be as you say you are, quite clever. Indeed, I thought that at some time or other in your life, you had perhaps been too clever and had to suffer for it, because you struck me as a man with a past. No, no, you needn't laugh. I am a judge of such matters."

"You think you are," smiled Pellew.

"Well, I ought to be," smiled back von Ravenheim, "for I've passed a third of my life behind prison walls." He laughed merrily. "Ah, I thought that would make you stare! But you'll be disappointed when I explain that it was only because my father happened to be governor of one of our prisons." He held Pellews eyes with his own. "And my experiences there incline me to think that you've been in prison, too, because when you are talking quietly, as you have been, for instance, just now you have the trick of speaking without moving your lips, just as prisoners do when they are together, but forbidden to talk to one another."

"Anything else?" asked Pellew with a dry mouth and an amusement which was obviously forced.

"Well, one thing more," said von Ravenheim very quietly, "just to make you realise it will pay you best to go straight with me. When you handed me the receipt for that awful sherry last week, you had just poured me out a glass of port, and on the back of the receipt you left a very clear imprint of your thumb and finger. So both these prints could be included in that anonymous letter to Scotland Yard and perhaps——No, no, leave that drawer alone. I've got two friends waiting outside for me in a car, and if I don't go back to them almost at once now they'll be coming in to see what's happened. Besides, I've got a little toy myself in my pocket and it's pointing direct at you. Ah, that's better! Sit back and have another cigarette. Now we'll continue this little business talk of ours."

Some ten minutes later, when Pellew walked out of the warehouse door with his visitor, he looked up and down the lane for the car.

But there was no car of any description to be seen in the street, and noting the puzzled expression upon his face, von Ravenheim chuckled in amusement.

"They must have got tired of waiting," he smiled. He sobered down instantly. "No, my friend, I bring neither car nor companions when I come to see you, for the more unnoticed I am the better. I use the tube both ways." He waved his hand carelessly. "Good-bye. Mr."—he stressed the name slightly—"Pellew."

"Good-bye. Herr"—Pellew also stressed the word ever so little—"Menns," and they parted with mutual grins, as if each quite understood the other.