The Rayner-Slade Amalgamation

The two men walked away together after taking leave of the millionaire and the Princess. But before they were clear of the courtyard, Chilverton caught them and tapped Fullaway on the elbow.

"Say!" he said confidentially. "You won't mind my asking you—who's this Van Koon that you mentioned?"

"Man from our side who's been here in London all this spring," answered Fullaway promptly. "He was coming with Allerdyke and me just now, but he turned back—just when you and Delkin drove in here."

Chilverton gave Fullaway a quick look.

"Did he see me?" he asked.

"Sure!" replied Fullaway. "Asked who you were—or I did."

"You did," remarked Allerdyke. "Then he went off."

"Describe him," said Chilverton. He listened attentively while Fullaway gave him a sketch of Van Koon's appearance. "Um!" he continued. "Do you mind my walking to your hotel with you? I believe I know that man, and I'd like to see him."

A hall-porter was standing at the door of the Waldorf who had been there when the three men went out together at one o'clock. Fullaway beckoned him.

"Seen anything of Mr. Van Koon?" he asked.

"Mr. Van Koon?—yes, sir. He came back a few minutes after you and Mr. Allerdyke and he had gone out, got a suit-case from upstairs, left word that he'd be away for the night, and went off in a taxi, sir," answered the man. "Seemed to be in a great hurry, sir!"

Before Fullaway could speak, Chilverton seized the hall-porter's arm.

"Did you hear him give the cab-driver any direction?"

"Yes, sir," replied the man promptly. "St. Pancras Station, sir."

Without a word, Chilverton turned, hurried out to the pavement, and leapt into a taxi-cab that was standing there unengaged. In another instant the taxi-cab was off, and Allerdyke and Fullaway turned to each other. Then Allerdyke laughed.

"That's why Van Koon turned back, Fullaway," he said in a low voice. "He recognized Chilverton. Now, then—why did that recognition make him run? And—who is he?"

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE FIRST PURSUIT

For a moment Fullaway stood in the doorway of the hotel, staring towards the mouth of Kingsway, around the corner of which Chilverton's cab had already disappeared. Then he turned, gave Allerdyke a look of absolute non-comprehension, and with a sudden gesture, as of surrender to circumstances, walked into the hotel and made for the stairs.

"That licks everything!" he muttered, as he and Allerdyke went up to the first floor. "Tell you what it is, Allerdyke—my poor brain is getting into a whirl! We've had quite enough excitement this morning in all conscience, and now this comes on top of it. Now, how in creation do you explain this last occurrence?"

Allerdyke laughed cynically.

"I don't know so much of the world as you do, Fullaway," he said, "but I don't think this needs much explanation. When a man makes himself suddenly scarce at sight of a well-known detective, I should say that man knows the detective wants him—badly! My impression is that at this moment your friend Van Koon is running away from Chilverton, and Chilverton's going hot-foot after him. And—"

They were at that moment passing the room which Van Koon had occupied, and Allerdyke suddenly remembered the occasion on which he had seen Mrs. Marlow steal out of it, suspiciously and furtively, and when its proper tenant was away. He had carefully abstained from telling Fullaway about that little incident, preferring to wait until events had further developed. Should he tell him now—now that there seemed to be evidence that Van Koon himself was a doubtful character? He hesitated—and while he hesitated Fullaway strode on, flung open his office door, turned to the letter-box at the back, and took out some letters and a telegram. He tore the telegram open, and the next instant flung it on the table with a fierce exclamation.

"Damn it all, Allerdyke!" he said, waving an indignant hand at the bit of pink paper. "What in the name of all that's wicked is the meaning of that? Read it—read!"

Allerdyke picked the telegram up and read it aloud.

"Regret shall be unable to return to office for day or two; called away on extremely urgent private business.—MARLOW."

He laughed again as he put the telegram back and turned to Fullaway, who, hands plunged deep in pockets and black of countenance, was stamping up and down the room.

"Um!" said Allerdyke. "Um! Now, in my humble opinion, Fullaway, that's a good deal queerer than the Van Koon incident. For look you here—your secretary was talking to us in your room there at less than five minutes to one, and we left her here when we went out on the stroke of one. And yet—look at the wire!—she handed that in at the East Strand post office within ten minutes after we'd left her! What do you make of that?"

"Damnation!" exclaimed Fullaway. "How the blazes do I know what to make of it! I seem to be surrounded with—God knows what hellish mysteries! Allerdyke, is there a regular devil's conspiracy, or—what is there?"

Allerdyke made a show of looking at the telegram again. In reality, he was considering matters. Should he tell Fullaway what he knew? He was more than a little tempted to do so. But his natural sense of caution and reserve stopped the words before they reached his tongue, and he took another tack.

"You said just now, in talking to Delkin, that you'd the greatest confidence in this Mrs. Marlow, and had the best references with her, Fullaway," he remarked. "What references?"

"Good business references!" answered Fullaway excitedly. "The best! Firms of high standing in the City. Couldn't have had better. Go and ask any of them about her—I'll lay my last dollar they will say the same. Capital secretary—clever woman—thoroughly trustworthy!"

"What do you know about her private life?" asked Allerdyke.

"What the deuce has the woman's private life to do with me?" snapped Fullaway. "I know nothing. So long as she comes here at ten, stops till five, and does her duty—hang her private life!"

"Do you know where she lives?" asked Allerdyke imperturbably. "But of course you do."

"Then I don't!" retorted Fullaway. "Somewhere up town, I believe—West End somewhere. I don't know. I've nothing to do with her private affairs. I never have had anything to do with the private affairs of any employee of mine."

"She makes her private affairs have something to do with you though," said Allerdyke, tapping the telegram significantly. "But, in my opinion, that wire's nothing but an excuse. What're you going to do?"

"Oh, I don't know!" exclaimed Fullaway. "I'm about sick of the whole thing."

Allerdyke pulled out his watch.

"I must go," he said. "I've a business appointment. I'll see you later."

Fullaway made no reply, and Allerdyke left him, went downstairs and sought Gaffney, whom, having found, he led outside to the street.

"How soon can you lay hands on that brother of yours?" he asked.

"Twenty minutes—in a cab, sir," replied Gaffney.

"Get a cab, then, find him, and drive, both of you, to the warehouse," commanded Allerdyke. "You'll find me there."

He himself got a cab, too, and went off to Gresham Street, more puzzled and doubtful than ever. He closeted himself with Ambler Appleyard and told him all the details of the eventful morning, and the manager listened in silence, taking everything in and making his own mental notes. And with his usual acuteness of perception he quickly separated the important from the momentarily unimportant.

"You don't want to bother your head about what Mr. Delkin says just now, Mr. Allerdyke," he said, when Allerdyke had brought this story to an end.

"Never mind his theories—there may be a lot in 'em, and there mayn't be any more than his personal opinion in 'em. Never mind, too, what Chilverton wants with Van Koon. Nor if there's any connection between Van Koon and Miss Slade, or Mrs. Marlow. The thing to do is to find—her!"

"You think she's hooked it?" said Allerdyke.

"I should say that something said by some of you at that talk this morning in Fullaway's room has startled her into action," answered Appleyard. "Now let's get at facts. You say she sent that wire from the East Strand post Office within ten minutes of your leaving her? Very well—I should say she was on her way to Arundel Street to see Rayner, alias Ramsay. I wish we'd had a constant watch kept on him. But we'll soon repair that if you've sent for young Gaffney."

The two Gaffneys arrived at that moment and Appleyard, after some further talk, assigned them their duties. Gaffney, the chauffeur, was to go at once and get himself a room at an inn in close proximity to the Pompadour Hotel, so that he would be at Appleyard's disposal at any hour of the coming evening and night. Albert Gaffney, the clerk, was to devote himself to watching Rayner. He was to follow Rayner wherever Rayner went from the time of his leaving Clytemnestra House that afternoon—even if Rayner should leave town by motor or by train he was to follow. For, as Appleyard sagely observed, it was not likely that Mrs. Marlow, alias Miss Slade, would return to the Pompadour Hotel that night if her fears had been aroused by what had taken place that morning, and it was a reasonable presumption that if she and Rayner were in league she would have communicated with him on leaving Fullaway's office, and that they would meet again somewhere before the day was over.