A Rogue by Compulsion, Victor Bridges [best books to read for knowledge TXT] 📗

some designs—some valuable battleship designs—disappeared from Devonport Dockyard. It was a queer case, but there were one or two things about it which made me pretty sure it was the work of the same gang, and that for the time, at all events, they were somewhere in the neighbourhood.

"I needn't bother you now with all the details of how I actually ran them to earth. It wasn't an easy job. They weren't the sort of people who left any spare bits of evidence lying around, and by the time I found out where they were living it was just too late." He turned to me. "Otherwise, Mr. Lyndon, I think we might possibly have had the pleasure of meeting earlier."

A sudden forgotten recollection of my first interview with McMurtrie flashed vividly into my mind.

"By Jove!" I exclaimed. "What a fool I am! I knew I'd heard your name somewhere before."

Latimer nodded. "Yes," he said. "I daresay I had begun to arouse a certain amount of interest in the household by the time you arrived." He paused. "By the way, I am still quite in the dark as to how you actually got in with them. Had they managed to send you a message into the prison?"

"No," I said. "I'm equally in the dark as to how you've found out who I am, but you seem to know so much already, you may as well have the truth. It was chance; just pure chance and a bicycle. I hadn't the remotest notion who lived in the house. I was trying to steal some food."

Latimer nodded again. "It was a chance that a man like McMurtrie wasn't likely to waste. I don't know yet how you're paying him for his help, but I should imagine it's a fairly stiff price. However, we'll come back to that afterwards.

"I was just too late, as I told you, to interrupt your pleasant little house-party. I managed to find out, however, that some of you had gone to London, and I followed at once. It was then, I think, that the doctor decided it was time to take the gloves off.

"So far, although I'd been on their heels for weeks, I hadn't set eyes on any of the gang personally. All the same, I had a pretty good idea of what McMurtrie and Savaroff were like to look at, and I fancy they probably guessed as much. Anyhow, as you know, it was the third member of the brotherhood—a gentleman who, I believe, calls himself Hoffman—who was entrusted with the job of putting me out of the way."

A faint mocking smile flickered for a moment round his lips.

"That was where the doctor made his first slip. It never pays to underestimate your enemy. Hoffman certainly had a good story, and he told it well, but after thirteen years in the Secret Service I shouldn't trust the Archbishop of Canterbury till I'd proved his credentials. I agreed to dine at Parelli's, but I took the precaution of having two of my own men there as well—one in the restaurant and one outside in the street. I had given them instructions that, whatever happened, they were to keep Hoffman shadowed till further orders.

"Well, you know how things turned out almost as well as I do. I was vastly obliged to you for sending me that note, but as a matter of fact I hadn't the least intention of drinking the wine. Indeed, I turned away purposely to give Hoffman the chance to doctor it. What did beat me altogether was who you were. I naturally couldn't place you at all. I saw that you recognized one of us when you came in, and that you were watching our table pretty attentively in the glass. I had a horrible suspicion for a moment that you were a Scotland Yard man, and were going to bungle the whole business by arresting Hoffman. That was why I sent you my card; I knew if you were at the Yard you'd recognize my name."

"I severed my connection with the police some time ago," I said drily.
"What happened after dinner? I've been longing to know ever since."

"I got rid of Hoffman at the door, and from the time he left the restaurant my men never lost him again. They shadowed him to his lodgings—he was living in a side street near Victoria—and for the next two days I got a detailed report of everything he did. It was quite interesting reading. Amongst other things it included paying a morning visit to the hut you're living in at present, Mr. Lyndon, and going on from there to spend the afternoon calling on some friends at Sheppey."

I laughed gently, and turned to Tommy. "Amazingly simple," I said, "when you know how it's done."

Tommy nodded. "I've got all that part, but I'm still utterly at sea about how he dropped on to you."

"That was simpler still," answered Latimer. "One of my men told me that the hut was empty for the time, so I came down to have a look at it." He turned to me. "Of course I recognized you at once as the obliging stranger of the restaurant. That didn't put me much farther on the road, but when Morrison rolled up with his delightfully ingenious yarn, he gave me just the clue I was looking for. I knew his story was all a lie because I'd seen you since. Well, a man like Morrison doesn't butt into this sort of business without a particularly good reason, and it didn't take me very long to guess what his reason was. You see I remembered him chiefly in connection with your trial. I knew he was your greatest friend; I knew you had escaped from Dartmoor and disappeared somewhere in the neighbourhood of McMurtrie's place, and putting two and two together there was only one conclusion I could possibly come to."

"My appearance must have taken a little getting over," I suggested.

Latimer shrugged his shoulders. "Apart from your features you exactly fitted the bill, and I had learned enough about McMurtrie's past performances not to let that worry me. What I couldn't make out was why he should have run the risk of helping you. Of course you might have offered him a large sum of money—if you had it put away somewhere—but in that case there seemed no reason why you should be hanging about in a hut on the Thames marshes."

"Why didn't you tell the police?" asked Tommy.

"The police!" Latimer's voice was full of pleasant irony. "My dear Morrison, we don't drag the police into this sort of business; our great object is to keep them out of it. Mr. Lyndon's affairs had nothing to do with me officially apart from his being mixed up with McMurtrie. Besides, my private sympathies were entirely with him. Not only had he tried to save my life at Parelli's, but ever since the trial I have always been under the impression he was fully entitled to slaughter Mr.—Mr.—whatever the scoundrel's name was."

I acknowledged the remark with a slight bow. "Thank you," I said. "As a matter of sober fact I didn't kill him, but I shouldn't be the least sorry for it if I had."

Latimer looked at me for a moment straight in the eyes.

"We've treated you beautifully as a nation," he said slowly. "It's an impertinence on my part to expect you to help us."

I laughed. "Go on," I said. "Let's get it straightened out anyhow."

"Well, the straightening out must be largely done by you. As far as I'm concerned the rest of the story can be told very quickly. For various reasons I got to the conclusion that in some way or other the two gentlemen on Sheppey had a good deal to do with the matter. My men had been making a few inquiries about them, and from what we'd learned I was strongly inclined to think they were a couple of German naval officers over here on leave. If that was so, the fact that they were in communication with Hoffman made it pretty plain where McMurtrie was finding his market. My men had told me they were generally away on the mainland in the evening, and I made up my mind I'd have a look at the place the first chance I got. I asked Morrison to come down and pick me up in his boat for two reasons—partly because I wanted to keep in touch with you both, and partly because I thought it might come in handy to have a second line of retreat."

"It was rather convenient, as things turned out," interposed Tommy.

"Very," admitted Latimer drily. "They got back to the garden just as I had opened one of the windows, and shot at me from behind the hedge. If it hadn't been for the light they must have picked me off."

He stopped, and standing up in the well, looked round. By this time we were again just off the entrance to Queenborough, and the thick haze that had obscured everything earlier in the evening was rapidly thinning away. A watery moon showed up the various warships at anchor—dim grey formless shapes, marked by blurred lights.

"What do you say?" he asked, turning to Tommy. "Shall we run in here and pick up some moorings? Before we go any further I want to hear Lyndon's part of the story, and then we all three shall know exactly where we are. After that you can throw me in the sea, or—or—well, I think there are several possible alternatives."

"We'll find out anyhow," said Tommy.

He turned the Betty towards the shore, and we worked our way carefully into the harbour. We ran on past the anchored vessels, until we were right opposite the Queenborough jetty, where we discovered some unoccupied moorings which we promptly adopted. It was a snug berth, and a fairly isolated one—a rakish-looking little gunboat being our nearest neighbour.

In this pleasant atmosphere of law and order I proceeded to narrate as briefly and quickly as possible the main facts about my escape and its results. I felt that we had gone too far now to keep anything back. Latimer had boldly placed his own cards face upwards on the table, and short of sending him to the fishes, there seemed to be nothing else to do except to follow his example. As he himself had said, we should then at least know exactly how we stood with regard to each other.

He listened to me for the most part in silence, but the few interruptions that he did make showed the almost fierce attention with which he was following my story. I don't think his eyes ever left my face from the first word to the last.

When I had finished he sat on for perhaps a minute without speaking.
Then very deliberately he leaned across and held out his hand.

We exchanged grips, and for once in my life I found a man whose fingers seemed as strong as my own.

"I don't know whether that makes you an accessory after the fact," I said. "I believe it's about eighteen months for being civil to an escaped convict."

He let go my hand, and getting up from his seat leaned back against the door of the cabin facing us both.

"You may be an escaped convict, Mr. Lyndon," he said slowly, "but if you choose I believe you can do more for England than any man alive."

There was a short pause.

"It seems to me," interrupted Tommy, "that England is a little bit in
Neil's debt already."

"That doesn't matter," I observed generously. "Let's hear what Mr.
Latimer has got to say." I turned to him. "Who are McMurtrie and
Savaroff?" I asked, "and what the devil's the meaning of it all?"

"The meaning is plain enough to a certain point," he answered. "I haven't the least doubt that they intend to sell the secret of your powder to Germany, just as they've sold their other information. If I knew for certain it was only that, I should act, and act at once."

He stopped.

"Well?" I said.

"I believe there's something more behind it—something we've got to find out before we strike. For the last two months Germany has taken a tone towards us diplomatically that can only have one explanation. They mean to get their way or fight, and if it comes to a fight they're under the impression they're going to beat us."

"And you really believe McMurtrie and Savaroff are responsible for their optimism?" I asked a little incredulously.

Latimer nodded. "Dr. McMurtrie,"