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In Captivity · The Three Just Men

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  Chapter twenty six of The Three Just Men by Edgar Wallace. This LibriVox recording
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  is in the public domain. In Captivity, the second day of Captivity dawned
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  unseen in a world that lay outside the brick roof and glazed white walls of
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  Mirabel Lester's prison house. She had grown in strength and courage, but not
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  so her companion, Joan, who had started her weary vigil with an almost
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  cheerful gayety, had sunk deeper and deeper into depression as the hours progressed,
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  and Mirabel woke to the sound of a woman's sobs to find the girl sitting
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  on the side of her bed, her head in her wet hands. I
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  hate this place, she sobbed. Why does he keep me here? God,
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  if I thought the hound was double crossing me, I'll go mad.
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  If they keep me here any longer, I will Lester, she screamed.
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  I'll make some tea, said Mirabel, getting out of bed and finding her
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  slippers. The girl sat throughout the eye operation, huddled in a miserable heap,
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  and by and by her whimpering gone on Mirabelle's nerves. I don't know
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  why you should be wretched, she said, they're not after your money.
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  You can laugh, and how you can I don't know, sobbed the girl,
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  and she took the cup in her shaking hands. I know I'm a
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  fool, but have never been locked up like this before. I didn't dream
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  he'd break his word. He swore he come yesterday. What time is it?
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  Six o'clock, said Mirabel. It might as well have been eight or
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  midday, for all she knew. To the contrary, this is a filthy
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  place, said the hysterical girl. I think they're going to drown us all
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  or that thing will explode. She pointed to the green bass box. I
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  know it. I feel it in my blood. That beast Girthro is here
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  somewhere. Humphm. He's like a slimy snake. Have you ever seen him?
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  Girthur? You mean the man who danced with me? That's he.
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  I keep telling you who he is, said Joan impatiently. I wish we
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  could get out of here, she jumped up. Suddenly, come and see
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  if you can help me lift the trap. Mirabel knew it was useless before
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  she set forth on the quest for freedom. Their united efforts failed to move
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  the stone, and Joan was on the point of collapse when they came back
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  to their sleeping room. I hope Gertha doesn't know that those men are friends.
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  If you are, she said, when she became calmer, you told
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  me that yesterday. Would that make any difference? A whole lot, said
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  Joan vehemently. He's got the blood of a fish. That man. There's
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  nothing he wouldn't do. Monty ought to be flogged for leaving us here at
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  his mercy. I'm not scared of Aberjon. He's old, but the other
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  fellow dopes and goes stark, staring mad at times. Monty told me one
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  night that he was she choked a killer. He said that these German criminals
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  who kill people are never satisfied with one murder. They go on and on
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  until they've got twenty or thirty. He says that the German prisons are filled
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  with men who have the murder habit. He was probably trying to frighten you.
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  Why should he said, the girl with unreasonable anger and leave him alone.
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  Monty is the best in the world. I adore the ground he walks
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  on. Very wisely. Mirabel did not attempt to traverse this view. It
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  was only when her companion had these hysterical fits, that fear was communicated to
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  her. Her faith was completely and wholeheartedly centered on the three men. Upon
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  Gonzalez, she wondered how old he was. Sometimes he looked quite young,
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  and others an elderly man. It was difficult to remember his face. He
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  owed so much to his expression, the smile in his eyes, to the
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  strange, boyish eagerness of gesture and action which accompanied his speech. She could
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  not quite understand herself. Why was she always thinking of Gonzalez as a maid
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  might think of a lover. She went red at the thought he seemed so
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  apart, so aloof from the ordinary influences of women. Suppose she had committed
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  some great crime and had escaped the vigilance of the law. Would he hunt
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  down in the same remorseless, eager way, planning to cut off every avenue
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  of her escape until he shepherded her into a prison cell. It was a
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  horrible thought, and she screwed up her eyes tight to blot out the mental
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  picture she had made. It would have given her no ordinary satisfaction to have
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  known how often Gonzalez thoughts straight to the girl who had so strangely come into
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  his life. He spent a portion of his time that morning in his bedroom
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  fixing to the wall a large railway map which took in the south of England
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  and the greater part of the continent. A red ink line marked the route
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  from London to Lisbon, and he was fixing a little green flag on the
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  line just south of Paris when Manfred strolled into the room and surveyed his work.
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  The suit expresses about there, he said, pointing to the last of
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  the green flags. And I think our friend will have a fairly pleasant and
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  uneventful journey as far as Vilattally, where I have arranged for Miguel Garcia,
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  an old friend of mine, to pick him up and shadow him on the
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  westward journey. Unless we get the plane, I am expecting a wire any
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  minute. By the way, did Deya police have arrested the gentleman who tried
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  to bump him overboard in mid Channel? But the man who snatched at his
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  portfolio at the Gherri San Lazaar is still at liberty. He must be getting
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  quite used to it now, said Manford coolly, and laughed to himself.
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  Leon turned, he's a good fellow, he said, with quick earnestness.
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  We couldn't have chosen a better man. The woman on the train, of
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  course, was Gerther. He is the only criminal I have ever known who
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  was really efficient at disguising himself. Manfred lit his pipe. He had lately
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  taken to this form of smoking. This case grows more and more difficult every
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  day. Do you realize that Leon nodded and more dangerous? He said,
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  By the laws of average girthur should get one of us the next time he
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  makes an attempt. Have you seen the page papers, Manfred smiled. They're
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  crying for Meto's blood, poor fellow, which shows the extraordinary inconsistency of the
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  public. Meados has only been in one snake case. They credit him with
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  having fallen down on the lot. They seemed to be in remarkable agreement that
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  the snake deaths come into the category of wilful and murder, said Gonzalez,
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  as they went down the stairs together. Medos had been talking to the reporters.
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  Indeed, that was his chief offense from the viewpoint of the official mind.
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  For the first article in the Code of every well constituted policeman is deut
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  shall not communicate to the press. Leon strolled aimlessly about the room, he
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  was wearing his chauffeur's uniform and his hands were thrust into the breeches pockets.
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  Manfred, recognizing the symptoms, ran the bell for Poiquart, and that quiet
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  man came from the lower regions. Leon is going to be mysterious, said
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  Manfred dryly. I'm not really protested Leon, but he went It was one
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  of his most charming peculiarities that he had never forgotten how to blush. I
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  was merely going to suggest that there is a play running in London that we
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  ought to see. I didn't know that The Ringer was a play until this
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  morning, when I saw one of Auberjon's more genteel clerks go into the theater,
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  and, being naturally of an inquisitive turn of mind, followed him.
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  A play that interests Aberjon will interest me and should interest you, George,
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  she said severely, and certainly should interest Meadows. It is full of thrilling
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  situations. It is about a criminal who escapes from Dartmoor and comes back to
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  murder his betrayer. There is one scene which is played in the dark that
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  ought to thrill you. I've been looking up the reviews of the dramatic critics,
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  and as they are unanimous that it is not an artistic success, and
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  is moreover wildly improbable and ought to be worth seeing. I always choose an
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  artistic success when I am suffering from insomnia, he added cruelly. Auberjon is
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  in touch to his amusements, however vulgar they may be. But this play
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  isn't vulgar, protested Leon, except in so far as it is popular.
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  I found it most difficult to buy a seat, even actors go to see
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  the audience act. What seat did he buy box, ay, said Leon
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  promptly, and paid for it with real money. It is the end box
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  on the prompt side. And before you ask me whence I gained my amazing
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  knowledge of theatrical technique, I will answer that even a child in arms knows
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  that the prompt side is the left hand's side facing the audience for tonight.
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  Leon nodded. I have three stalls, he said, and produced them from
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  his pocket. If you cannot go, will you give them to the cook.
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  She looks like a woman who would enjoy a good cry over the sufferings
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  of the tortured heroine. The seats are in the front row, which means
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  that you can get in and out between the acts without walking on other people's
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  knees. Must I go, asked Pochardt plaintively. I do not like detective
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  place, and I hate mystery Place. I know who the real murderer is
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  before the curtain has been up ten minutes, and that naturally spoils my evening.
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  Could you not take a girl? Last, Leon outrageously? Do you
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  know any who would go? Why not take aunt Alma? Suggested Manford,
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  and Leon accepted the name joyously. Aunt Alma had come to town at the
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  suggestion of the three and had opened up the Doughty Court flat. And she
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  really is a remarkable woman, and shows a steadiness and a courage and face
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  of the terrible position of our poor little friend, which is altogether praiseworthy.
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  I don't think Mirabelle Lester is in any immediate danger. I think I said
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  that before Auberjean merely wishes to keep her until the period of renewal has expired.
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  How he will escape the consequences of imprisoning her, I cannot guess.
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  He may not attempt to escape them, may accept the term of imprisonment,
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  which will certainly be handed out to him. As part of the payment he
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  must pay for his millions. Suppose he kills her, asked Pockart. For
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  a second, Leon's face twitched. He won't kill her, he said quietly.
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  Why should he. We know that he has got her, the police
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  know she is a different proposition from Barberton. An unknown man killed, nobody
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  knew how in a public place. No, I don't think we need cross
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  that bridge only. He rubbed his hands together irritably. However, we shall
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  see, and in the meantime, I'm placing a lot of faith in digby
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  a shrewd man with a sense of his previous shortcomings. You were wise there,
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  George. He was looking at the street through the curtains. Tittlemouse is
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  at his post, the faithful hound, he said, lodding towards the solitary
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  taxicab that stood on the rank. I wonder whether he expects Manfred saw a
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  light creep into his eyes. Will you want me for the next two hours?
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  Leon asked quickly, and was out of the room in a flash.
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  Ten minutes later, Poacar and George were talking together when they heard the street
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  door close and saw Leon stroll to the edge of the pavement and wave his
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  umbrella. The taxicab driver was suddenly a thing of quivering excitement. He leaned
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  down, cranked his engine, cling back into his seat, and brought the
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  car up quicker than any taxicab driver had ever moved before New Scotland Yard,
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  said Leon, and got into the machine. The cab passed through the forbidding
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  gaze of the yard and dropped him at the staff entrance. Wait Here,
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  said Leon, and the man shifted uncomfortably. I've got to be back at
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  my garage, she began. I shall not be five minutes, said Leon.
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  Meadows was in his room. Fortunately, I want you to pull in
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  this man and give him a dose of the third degree. You keep in
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  this country, said Leon. He carries a gun. I saw that when
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  he had to get down to crank up his cab in Piccadilly's circus, the
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  engine stopped. What do you want to know all that there is to be
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  known about Aberjon. I may have missed one or two things. I've seen
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  him outside the house. Aberjon employs him for odd jobs, and occasionally he
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  acts as the old man chauffeur. In fact, he drove the machine the
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  day Miss Lester lunched with Oberjon at the Ritz Carlton. He may not have
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  a cabin's license, and that will make it all the easier for you.
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  A few minutes later, a very surprise and wrathful man was marched into Cannon
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  Row and scientifically searched. Leon had been right about the revolver. It was
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  produced and found to be loaded, and his excuse that he carried the weapon
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  as a protection following upon a recent murder of a cab driver had not the
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  backing of the necessary permit. In addition, and this was a more serious
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  offense, he held no permit from Scotland Yard to apply for higher on the
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  streets, and his badge was the property of another man. Put him inside,
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  said Meadows, and went back to report to the waiting Leon. You've
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  hit the bullseye first time. I don't know whether he will be of any
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  used to us, but I don't despise even the smallest fish. Whilst he
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  was waiting, Leon had been engaged in some quick thinking. The man has
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  been at Greenwich lately. One of my men saw him there twice, and
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  I needn't say that he was driving over John. I'll talk to him later
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  and telephone you, said Meadows, and Leon Gonzalez went back to Curzon Street
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  one large smile. You have merely exchanged the spy you know for a spy
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  you don't know, said George Manford. Though I never question these freakish acts
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  of yours, Leon, so often they have a trick of turning up trumps.
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  By the way, the police are raiding the Gringo club in the Victoria
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  Dock Road to night, and they may be able to pick up a few
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  of mister Oberjon's young gentlemen, who are certain to be regular users of the
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  place. The telephone bell rang shrilly, and Leon took up the receiver and
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  recognized Medos's voice. I've got a queer story for you, said the inspector.
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  Immediately did he talk, asked the interest of Leon. After a while,
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  we took a fingerprint impression and found that he was on the register.
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  More than that, he is a ticket of leave man as an ex convict.
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  We can send him back to finish his unexpired time. I promised to
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  say a few words for him, and he spilt everything. The most interesting
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  item is that Auberjon is planning to be married. To be married, Who
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  is this? Asked Manford in surprise. Aberjon. Leon nodded. Who was
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  the unfortunate lady? Asked Leon. It was a pause, and then miss
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  Lester. Manfred saw the face of his friend change color and guessed, does
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  he know? When, asked Leon in a different voice. No, a
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  license was issued over a week ago, which means that Aberjon can marry any
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  morning he likes to bring along his bride. What's the idea do you think?
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  Drop in this evening and either I or George will tell you, said
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  Leon. He put the telephone on the hook carefully. That is a danger
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  I had not foreseen, although it was obviously the only course Aberjon could take.
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  If he marries her, she cannot be called in evidence against him.
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  May I see the book? George Manford unlocked the wall safe and brought back
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  a small ledger. Leon Gonzalez turned the pages thoughtfully. Dennis, he has
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  done good work for us, hasn't he, he asked, Yes. He's
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  a very reliable man. He owes us amongst other things his life. Do
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  you remember his wife? Was I remember? Leon scribbled the address of a
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  man who had proved to be one of the most trustworthy of his agents.
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  What are you going to do? Asked Manfred. I have put Dennis on
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  the doorstep of the Granite Registrar's office from nine o'clock in the morning until half
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  past three in the afternoon, and he will have instructions for me that the
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  moment he sees Aberjon walk out of a cab with a lady, he must
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  push him firmly but gently under the wheels of the cab and ask the driver
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  politely to move up a yard. Leon, in his more extravagantly humorous moods,
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  was very often in deadly earnest end of chapter twenty six