The Man Without a Memory, Arthur W. Marchmont [best business books of all time .txt] 📗

It wasn't easy to do; and nothing in the world except the thought of the consequences to Nessa, could have glued me to my chair for the minutes I had still to wait for von Gratzen. It was a positive relief when the strain ended and he came back.

He was looking very grave and stern, and there were still traces of the excitement he had shown when he had left me.

How I watched him! The next moment would decide everything for me. He was thinking closely, paused with his hand to his forehead when halfway to the desk, nodded in response to a thought, and went on to his chair. I had to hold my breath, as he sat down and laid his hand on the portfolio. I was ready to throw up the sponge as he slightly lifted the top paper and toyed with it.

The thought flashed through my head that the only thing left was to admit everything; who I was; why I had come; why I was so eager to get away; and then ask him to help me in return for what I had done in the Untergasse affair.

But the moment for that hadn't come yet at all events. Whether he noticed the absence of the tickets it was impossible to say. He appeared to be entirely lost in thought; he was staring abstractedly at nothing; not once had I seen his eyes drop to the desk; not so much as a side glance came my way; but then he was such a wily old beggar that that might all have been pretence to mislead me.

After a time that seemed hours to me, he nodded to himself again, took the hand from the papers to pass it across his forehead, and smiled. A smile of infinite meaning it was too. Then he closed the portfolio and put it away in a drawer.

"Now tell me the rest, boy," he said, turning to look at me for the first time. "Hallo, you look a little done up. Room too hot? Open the window a bit."

I jumped at the excuse to get out of range of his keen eyes for an instant. He might well say it was hot, for the strain had brought the perspiration in great beads on my forehead.

"Stand there a while and get a breath of the fresh air. A thing like this is sure to shake you up," he added.

Did he know? Was this intended to give me an opportunity of pulling myself together? Had he noticed everything and been thinking out some further subtle move in the game? Who could tell?

"Better?" he asked, as I returned to my seat. "There's no hurry. I've put off my other matters and shall have to keep you here for an hour or so. I'll tell you why presently. Oh, by the way, you'd better give me the card you got from old Graun. It may help you if I'm able to say you gave it to me; and, of course, it's no use to you now."

Was this his way of telling me that he knew? was the question in my mind as I gave it him. Then I resumed the story of the afternoon.

"You brought that card case away?" he shot in when I mentioned it.

"Yes. I have it here. Will you take it?"

"Perhaps I'd better," he replied after a pause, and then opened the drawer containing the portfolio, tossed it in carelessly, and let me finish the rest of the story without interruption, when he once more lapsed into close thought.

Von Welten came in before he spoke and handed him a note. "Not a second later than seven o'clock, mind, von Welten. Not a second, mind," he said when he had read the letter. "That'll do;" and we were alone again.

"Now I'll tell you something in my turn," he said. "You have rendered us a very great service; a much greater service than you can imagine. You have only made one mistake, for you ought to have hurried to me as fast as possible from that woman's rooms; but you're evidently lucky, for no harm has been done."

"I don't quite understand, sir," I stammered in surprise.

"I'm going to explain it to you. In the first place let me tell you I believe absolutely that you have told me the truth—about this murder, I mean—perhaps not in everything else."

"There is only one thing, and if you wish——"

"Don't interrupt me, boy. I don't like it," he exclaimed testily. "It puts me out. Now about this affair. We know all about this woman, Anna Hilden. That isn't her name at all; but that doesn't matter now. She is, or was, one of von Erstein's mistresses; not the only one, by the way. The real Anna Hilden was another—years ago, of course—and that is how he knew all about that sale of the secret information to France."

I had not said anything about that and he noticed my start.

"You needn't be astonished. I tell you we know many things here. It is our business to know them. The man who betrayed us in that affair was von Erstein himself, and you, if you are really Lassen, were merely the go-between and scapegoat. But he was too cunning for us to be able to prove a thing against him. There are many things we think we know about him and can't prove, and others we don't wish to prove," he said, with a very meaning side glance.

"I can understand that."

"We'll hope you don't come under either head, my boy. Well, we've been waiting for von Erstein, and now, thanks to you, we've got him. This woman went to him to-day after you left her; she was with him a considerable time; she left in great agitation; and he followed later to the flat which had been taken for this affair of yours. That he murdered her, there is no doubt, after what you've told me; but it's got to be proved. You won't be sorry if it is, probably."

"He ought to be hanged," I exclaimed impulsively.

He fixed his keen eyes on me, and in an instant I saw what I had done and that this was one of his infernal traps.

"You're either forgetting yourself, or beginning to remember things, aren't you?" he asked deliberately, with one of his queer inscrutable smiles. "It's in England that they hang murderers, you know."

I could have cursed myself for the idiotic slip, as his eyes bored right into my brain.

CHAPTER XX VON GRATZEN'S WILINESS

Abashed and confused by this unexpected trap, I sat cudgelling my wits for something to say, and at last stammered out, "I—I meant lynched, hanged on the nearest lamp-post, sir."

It was the lamest of lame dogs; but he appeared satisfied. He leant back in his chair. "Oh, I see. Yes, of course. Your American experiences, I expect. Well, we can talk about that another time. I was going to say that in von Erstein we have to deal with a very cunning individual indeed, and I shall expect you to help us. One of the necessary steps may be your arrest."

"Arrest!" I echoed in dismay.

"I said arrest. It may be necessary. It is essential he should not believe that a jot of suspicion attaches to him. You'll appreciate that?"

"I can appreciate it perhaps, but——"

"Don't be alarmed. I promise you very good treatment."

"But I thought you wished——" I pulled up on the brink of blurting out about my going to England.

"No matter for the moment what I wished, my boy." I was beginning to hate that term of familiarity, for I knew now what it covered. "Everything must wait upon this now," he continued. "The arrest will not be made at once, however, as there is one thing you have to do first."

This was better. If it wasn't done at once, it never would be done, I was resolved. "What is that?" I asked.

"You must return that ring to von Erstein."

"Do what?" I cried aghast. The ring was the only evidence against him!

"Do try to listen carefully. You must return it to him and lead him to believe you brought it away from that room. Let him snatch it from you while you are threatening to denounce him; or give it him as the terms of a truce between you; anyhow you please. But mind, it must be done so that he is convinced no eyes but yours have seen it. That's vital."

The light was beginning to break through even my thick skull then.

"We have it here; our people found it exactly as you said."

"Then the murder is known?"

"Oh, yes; the police have it in hand by this time; but they know nothing about that ring. We sent two men to the place who are suspected of being in his pay; and they will be able to report to him that nothing of the sort was found on the spot. We have taken every precaution, of course. It has been photographed from a dozen different points and a replica is being made. I am waiting now for the impression of the mould."

"It has occurred to you, of course, that he may destroy it?" I suggested.

He shook his head. "There's no fear of that. For one thing he's much too proud of it; there isn't another exactly like it in all Europe, probably not in the whole world; for another, he looks on it as a sort of mascot; there's some kind of legend or other about it; and lastly, if you do your part well, he will feel he can keep it with absolute safety."

The scheme was subtle enough to be worthy even of von Gratzen, and it increased my dread of his almost diabolical cunning. "When will you make him account for it?"

"That depends. He's a vindictive devil and is sure to denounce you for the murder, the instant he thinks he can do it safely. The most effective moment to deal with him would be when we get him in the witness box, giving evidence against you. But we shall see."

"And when am I to be arrested?"

"As soon as he lays the information against you, unless I find on consideration we can avoid quite so drastic a step. It is not altogether impossible; but the pith of everything is that you get the ring back to him as soon as possible."

A pleasant look-out for me—to be charged with murder of which he knew I was innocent in order to help him carry out plans. "You will scarcely expect me to be deliriously joyful at the prospect of being tried for my life," I said with a feeble smile.

He didn't like that at all and frowned at me. "Worse than that might happen to you, perhaps; and in the end it would be immensely to your advantage," he replied with unpleasantly deliberate significance.

I dropped that line like a hot coal. "I'm in your hands, sir."

"I'm glad to hear you say that. Of course, as I said just now, it may not come to that; I have another possible plan, indeed. But the other part is essential. You will give me your word of honour to carry out my instructions faithfully?"

"Yes, I give you my word of honour. Would it be sufficient if I were to let him have it with a letter?"

"Why?" Like a pistol shot came the question and his eyes snapped.

"I might bungle the personal business. I'm not much of a hand at acting, I'm afraid."

"I see," he replied; nodding; and something uncommonly like a smile hovered about the corners of his mouth. "I thought you said something to that Jew about theatricals and your studying his character. I have looked on you as a particularly good actor, my boy. But let's think. It would depend on how you worded any letter."

He considered for a while, started suddenly, nodded to himself, smiled, wrote hastily, and handed me the paper. "Just memorize that."

"Von Erstein, you will know