The Third Round Read online

  “And if it wasn’t suppressed – if it became known?”

  “If it became widely known it would mean absolute ruin to thousands of people. You may take it from me, old man, that in the first place such a process is never likely to be found, and, if it ever was, that it would never come out.”

  Hugh flashed a warning glance at the Professor.

  “There are hundreds of millions of pounds involved directly or indirectly in the diamond business,” went on Toby. “So I think you can safely invest in a few if you want to, for Phyllis.”

  He glanced at his watch and rose.

  “Look here, I must be toddling. Another conference on this afternoon. If you want any advice on choosing them, old boy, I’m always in the office from eleven-thirty to twelve.”

  Hugh watched him cross the room; then he turned thoughtfully to the Professor.

  “So that’s that,” he said. “Now, what about a bit of Stilton and a glass of light port while we consider the matter.”

  “But I knew all that before, and it has no influence on me, Drummond. None at all.” The Professor was snorting angrily. “I will not be intimidated into the suppression of a far-reaching chemical discovery by any considerations whatever.”

  “Quite so,” murmured Hugh soothingly. “I thought you’d probably feel like that about it. But it’s really Algy I’m thinking about. As you know, he’s a dear old pal of mine; his wedding is fixed in about a month, and since that is the only thing that can possibly restore him to sanity, we none of us want it postponed.”

  “Why should it be postponed?” cried the Professor.

  “Mourning in the bride’s family,” said Drummond. “The betting is a tenner to a dried banana that you expire within a week. Have some more cheese?”

  “Don’t be absurd, Drummond. If you think you are going to persuade me – you’re wrong. I suppose that foolish boy Algy has been trying to enlist you on his side.”

  “Now look here, Professor,” said Hugh quietly. “Will you listen to me for a moment or two? It is perfectly true that Algy did suggest to me this morning that I should try to persuade you to accept the offer Sir Raymond made you. But I am not going to do anything of the sort. I may say that even this morning it struck me that far more serious things were at stake than your acceptance or refusal of two hundred and fifty thousand pounds. I am not at all certain in my own mind that if you accepted the money you would even then be safe. You are the owner of far too dangerous a piece of knowledge. However, as I say, it struck me this morning that things were serious – now I’m sure of it, after what Toby said. He evidently knows nothing about it, so the big men are keeping it dark. Moreover, the biggest man of all, according to him, seems perfectly pleased with life at the present moment. Yet it’s not due to anything that you have done; you haven’t told them that you will accept their offer. Then why is he pleased? Most people wouldn’t be full of happiness when they were facing immediate ruin. Professor, you may take it from me – and I am not an alarmist by any means – that the jolly old situation has just about as many unpleasant snags sticking out of it as any that I have ever contemplated. And I’ve contemplated quite a few in my life.”

  He sat back in his chair and drained his port, and the Professor, impressed in spite of himself, looked at him in perplexity.

  “Then what do you suggest that I should do, Drummond?” he said. “These sort of things are not at all in my line.”

  Hugh smiled. “No, I suppose they’re not. Well, I’ll tell you what I would suggest your doing. If you are determined to go through with this, I would first of all take that threatening letter to Scotland Yard. Ask for Sir Bryan Johnstone, tell him you’re a pal of mine, call him Tum-tum, and he’ll eat out of your hand. If you can’t see him, round up Inspector McIver, and tell him – well, as much or as little as you like. Of course, it’s a little difficult. You can hardly accuse Sir Raymond Blantyre of having sent it. But still it seems the only thing to do. Then I propose that you and your wife and your daughter should all come away, and Algy too, and stop with my wife and me, for a little house-warming party at a new place I’ve just bought down in Sussex. I’ll rope in a few of Algy’s pals and mine to stop there too and we’ll keep an eye on you, until the meeting of the Royal Society.”

  “It’s very good of you, Drummond,” said the Professor uncertainly. “I hardly know what to say. This letter, for instance.”

  He fumbled in his pocket and drew out a bunch of papers, which he turned over in his hands.

  “To think that there’s all this trouble over that,” he continued, holding out two or three sheets of notepaper. “Whereas nobody worries over these notes on albumenised proteins.”

  Hugh stared at him in amazement.

  “You don’t mean to say that those are the notes of your diamond process,” he gasped. “Carried loose in your pocket.”

  “Yes – why not?” said the Professor mildly. “I always carry everything loose like that, otherwise I lose them. And I should be helpless without these.”

  “Good heavens! man, you must be mad,” cried Hugh. “Do you mean to say that you couldn’t carry on without those notes? And yet you carry them like that!”

  “I should have to do it all over again, and it would take me months to arrive at the right proportions once more.” He was peering through the scattered sheets. “Even now I believe I’ve lost one – oh! no, here it is. You see, it doesn’t make much odds, because no one could understand them except me.”

  Hugh looked at him speechlessly for a while: then he passed his hand dazedly across his forehead.

  “My dear Professor,” he murmured, “you astound me. You positively stagger my brain. The only remaining thing which I feel certain you have not omitted to do is to ensure that Sir Raymond and his friends know that you carry your notes about in your pocket like that. You haven’t forgotten to tell them that, have you?”

  “Well, as a matter of fact, Drummond,” said the Professor apologetically, “I’m afraid they must guess that I do. You see, when I did my demonstration before them I pulled my notes out of my pocket just as I did a moment or two ago. I suppose it is foolish of me, but until now I haven’t thought any more about the matter. It all comes as such a complete shock, that I really don’t know where I am. What do you think I’d better do with them?”

  “Deposit them at your bank the very instant you leave here,” said Hugh. “I will come round with you, and – well, what’s the matter now, Professor?”

  The Professor had risen to his feet, blinking rapidly in his agitation.

  “Good heavens! Drummond, I had completely forgotten. All this bother put it quite out of my head. Professor Scheidstrun – a celebrated German geologist – made an appointment with me at my house for this afternoon. He has brought several specimens of carboniferous quartz which he claims will completely refute a paper I have just written on the subject of crystalline deposits. I must get home at once, or I shall be late.”

  “Not quite so fast, Professor,” said Hugh with a smile. “I don’t know anything about carboniferous quartz, but there’s one thing I do know. Not for one minute longer do you walk about the streets of London with those notes in your pocket. Come into the smoking-room and we’ll seal them up in an envelope. Then I’ll take charge of them, at any rate until tonight when I’m coming to dine at your house. And after dinner we can discuss matters further.”

  He led the agitated savant into the smoking-room, and stood over him while he placed various well-thumbed pieces of paper into an envelope. Then he sealed the envelope and placed it in his pocket, and with a sigh of relief the Professor rose. But Drummond had not finished yet.

  “What about that letter and the police?” he said, holding out a detaining hand.

  “My dear boy, I really haven’t got the time now,” cried the old man. “You’ve no idea of the importance of this int
erview this afternoon. Why” – he laid his hand impressively on Drummond’s arm – “if what Scheidstrun claims is correct, it may cause a complete revolution in our present ideas on the atomic theory. Think of that, my friend, think of that.”

  Drummond suppressed a strong desire to laugh.

  “I’m thinking, Professor,” he murmured gravely. “And even though he does all that you say and more, I still think that you ought to go to the police with that letter.”

  “Tomorrow, Drummond – I will.” Like a rabbit between a line of beaters he was dodging towards the door, with Drummond after him.

  “You shall come with me yourself tomorrow, I promise you. And we’ll discuss matters again tonight. But the atomic theory – think of it.”

  With a gasp of relief he dashed into a waiting taxi, leaving Hugh partially stupefied on the pavement.

  “Tell him where to go, there’s a good fellow,” cried the Professor. “And if you could possibly lend me half-a-crown, I’d be very grateful. I’ve left all my money at home, as usual.”

  Drummond smiled and produced the necessary coin. Then a sudden thought struck him.

  “I suppose you know this German bloke, don’t you?”

  “Yes, yes,” cried the Professor testily. “Of course I know him. I met him ten years ago in Geneva. For goodness’ sake, my boy, tell the man to drive on.”

  Drummond watched the taxi swing round into King Street; then somewhat thoughtfully he went back into his club. Discussing the atomic theory with a German professor he knew, seemed a comparatively safe form of amusement, calculated, in fact, to keep him out of mischief, but he still felt vaguely uneasy. The man who had followed him seemed to have disappeared; St. James’s Square was warm and peaceful. From one point of view, it was hard to believe that any real danger could threaten the old man: he felt he could understand his surprised incredulity. As he had said, such things were out of his line. But as Drummond might have answered, they were not out of his, and no man living knew better that strange things took place daily in London, things which would tax the credulity of the most hardened reader of sensational fiction. And the one great dominant point which stuck out, and refused to be argued away, was this. What was the life of one old man compared to the total loss of hundreds of millions of pounds, when viewed from the standpoint of the losers? He glanced at the envelope he still held in his hand, and slipped it into his pocket. Then he went into the telephone box and rang up his chauffeur to bring round his car.

  He felt he wanted some fresh air to clear his brain, and all the way down to Ranelagh the same question kept clouding it. Why had that threatening letter been sent? If the intention was indeed to kill Professor Goodman, why, in the name of all that was marvellous, be so incredibly foolish as not only to warn him, but also to put that warning on paper? And if it was merely a bluff, again why put it on paper when the writer must have known that in all probability it would be taken straight to the police? Or was the whole thing just a silly jest, and was he, personally, making an appalling fool of himself by taking it seriously?

  But the last alternative was untenable. The offer of a quarter of a million pounds was no jest; not even the most spritely humorist could possibly consider it one. And so he found himself back at the beginning again, and he was still there when he saw Algy and his girl having tea.

  He deposited himself in a vacant chair beside Brenda, and having assured her of his continued devotion, he consumed the last sugar-cake.

  “The male parent has just lunched with me,” he remarked genially. “And as a result I am in the throes of brain-fever. He borrowed half-a-crown, and went off in Admiral Ferguson’s hat, as I subsequently discovered. I left the worthy seaman running round in small circles snorting like a bull. You should discourage your father, Brenda, from keeping pieces of paper written on with copying ink in the lining of his head-piece. Old Ferguson, who put the hat on by mistake, has a chemistry lecture written all over his forehead.”

  “Did you persuade Dad not to be such an unmitigated idiot, Hugh?” asked the girl eagerly.

  “I regret to state that I did not,” answered Hugh. “In fact, honesty compels me to admit, Brenda, that I no longer wonder at his allowing you to marry Algy. He may be the outside size in chemistry, but beyond that he wants lessons. Will you believe it, that at lunch today he suddenly removed from his pocket the notes of this bally discovery of his? He has been carrying them loose, along with some peppermint bull’s-eyes and bits of string!”

  “Oh! but he always carries everything like that,” laughed the girl. “What is the old dear doing now?”

  “He rushed away to commune with a German professor on carboniferous quartz and the atomic theory. Seemed immensely excited about it, so I suppose it means something. But to come to rather more important matters, I have invited him and Mrs Goodman and you to come down and spend a few days with us in Sussex. We might even include Algy.”

  “What’s the notion, old man?” murmured Algy. “Think he’s more likely to see reason if we take him bird-nesting.”

  “It’s no good, Hugh,” said Brenda decisively. “Besides, he wouldn’t go.”

  She turned to speak to a passing acquaintance, and Hugh bent over to Algy.

  “He’s dam’ well got to go,” he said in a low voice. “He was being followed this morning when I met him outside the club, and he’s had a letter threatening his life.”

  “The devil he has!” muttered Algy.

  “If we can make him see reason and suppress his discovery, so much the better,” went on Hugh. “Personally, I think he’s a pig-headed old ass, and that it undoubtedly ought to be suppressed, but there’s no good telling him that at present. But if he won’t, it’s up to us anyway to look after him, because he’s utterly incapable of doing it himself. Not a word to Brenda, mind, about the letter or his being followed. He’s all right for this afternoon, and we’ll fix things up this evening definitely.”

  And since the afternoon was all that an afternoon should be, and no one may ask for more than that and Ranelagh combined, it was just as well for the peace of mind of all concerned that no power of second sight enabled them to see what was happening in Professor Goodman’s laboratory, where he was discussing carboniferous quartz and the atomic theory with a celebrated German geologist.

  Chapter 3

  In which strange things happen in Professor Goodman’s laboratory

  At just about the same time that Algy Longworth was dancing on the pavement in Brook Street and demanding admission to Drummond’s house, Sir Raymond Blantyre was holding a conference with the other members of the Metropolitan Diamond Syndicate. The proceedings were taking place behind locked doors, and had an onlooker been present he would have noticed that there was a general air of tension in the room. For good or ill the die was cast, and try as they would the seven eminently respectable city magnates assembled round the table could not rid themselves of the thought that they had deliberately hired a man to commit murder for them. Not that they admitted it even to themselves – at any rate, not as crudely as that. Mr Blackton’s services had been secured to arrange matters for them with Professor Goodman – to negotiate for the suppression of his discovery. How he did it was, of course, his concern, and nothing whatever to do with them. Even Sir Raymond himself tried to lull his conscience by reflecting that perhaps the drastic measures alluded to in his interview at the Palace Hotel would not be necessary. And if they were – well, only a weak man wavered and hesitated once he was definitely committed to a particular line of action. After all, the responsibility was not his alone; he had merely been the spokesman for the combined opinions of the Syndicate reached after mature reflection. And if Professor Goodman was so pig-headed and obstinate, he must take the consequences. There were others to be considered – all those who would be ruined.

  Just at first after his return from Switzerland such specious arguments had ser
ved their purpose; but during the last two days they seemed to have lost some of their soothing power. He had found himself feverishly snatching at every fresh edition of the evening paper to see if anything had happened. He had even found himself wondering whether it was too late to stop things even now, but he didn’t know where the man who called himself Blackton could be found. From the moment when he had realised in the restaurant wagon that the old German professor and Mr Edward Blackton were one and the same person, he had not set eyes on him again. There had been no trace of him in Paris, and no trace on the boat. He had no idea where he was; he did not even know if he was in London.

  His cheque had been presented in Paris, so he had discovered from his bank only that morning. And that was the last trace of the man he had interviewed at Montreux.

  “I suppose there’s no chance of this man double-crossing us.” A dark sallow man was speaking and Sir Raymond glanced up quickly. “When all is said and done he has had a quarter of a million, and we’re hardly in a position to claim it back.”

  “That was one of the risks we discussed before we approached him,” said Sir Raymond. “Of course there’s a chance; that is obvious on the face of it. My impression is, however, that he will not, apart from the fact that another quarter of a million is at stake. He struck me, in a very marked degree, as being a man of his word.”

  There was silence for awhile, a silence which was broken suddenly by a mild-looking middle-aged man.

  “It’s driving me mad, this – absolutely mad,” he cried, mopping the sweat from his forehead. “I fell asleep last night after dinner, and I tell you, I woke up shouting. Dreams – the most awful dreams, with that poor old devil stabbed in the back and looking at me with great staring eyes. He was calling me a murderer, and I couldn’t stand it any more. I know I agreed to it originally, but I can’t go on with it – I can’t.”

  There was a moment’s tense silence, and then Sir Raymond spoke.