Nude in Mink by Sax Rohmer (top reads .TXT) 📕
There was a semi-circular recess, like a shrine, approached by three marble steps and veiled by silk curtains of rosy pink.
The existence of this singular apartment was destined to arouse keen curiosity in certain quarters (and before long) and to provoke equally keen incredulity in others.
A high, sweet note, that of a bell or of a silver gong, split the hushed silence, hitherto unbroken except for faint stirrings of lily leaves in the pool when one of several large golden orfe swimming there disturbed them.
Almost noiselessly, a bronze door was opened at the head of a short flight of marble steps. The handrail also was bronze, terminating in a newel post representing a sphinx. A man came down, slowly. He was a man of slight and graceful build. His leisurely move
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“In this fog, My Lady, it will be impossible—”
“The impossible is the refuge of cowards, Philo. I have never admitted its existence. It was glorious! Other impossibilities lie before us.”
Her golden tones were joyous, but still imperious.
“I meant, Madonna, that Silvestre—”
“Silvestre has my orders. When I join him, he will obey them—”
“But the fog—”
“So will you.”
6
The flat note of a police whistle seemed to be beaten down, absorbed, by the mist.
“Will the Inspector hear it through this fog, Constable?” Maitland asked anxiously.
“He’ll answer if he does, sir. I’ll blow again.”
The whistle was repeated… came a breathless interval … and a distant reply.
“He’s heard it!” said Constable Sims. “I didn’t expect to find this door open. There’s a big orchard inside.”
“To whom does it belong?”
“To Lady Carradale…”
And whilst Maitland was considering the significance of this fact, Ives came running up.
“What is it?” he demanded.
“There’s a heavy door in the wall here,” Maitland explained, “—and it’s open! Constable Sims tells me that it’s usually bolted. She probably went in here… The orchard belongs to Lady Carradale!”
“In that case, come on!”
“It’s a poor chance. She has a good start, now.”
But they ran along a muddy, wheel-rutted track beyond the gate, lost it by a row of wooden sheds and paused where a footpath carried on in roughly the same direction.
“Which way now?” said Ives, desperately.
“And where the devil can she be going?”
“We have to suppose, across the orchard,” Maitland replied. “See, here’s a path of sorts. It heads straight ahead …” He paused; stood staring. “Am I imagining it, or is there a dim light coming through the fog?”
It was Constable Sims who answered the question.
“May be the light of Carda Airfield, sir. We’re headed that way.”
“Carda Airfield?” snapped Ives. “Never heard of it.”
“It’s a testing ground, sir. We’ve got two men on special duty there today. They were to try out the new Super-Hornet. But the weather will have stopped ‘em. Fastest jet plane in the world, they say.”
Whereupon, revelation burst, a great white light, upon Ives’s mind…
“By heavens!” he shouted—“I see it all! I’ve been blind! To think that I said, ‘where the devil can she be going!’… But we’ve got her! We’ve got her!”
“I don’t follow at all.” Maitland confessed.
Ives had begun to run, stumblingly, through the trees…
“The Super-Hornet is made by Carradale’s! Carda Airfield must belong to the firm!”
“It does, sir,” the Constable panted.
“And Lady Carradale is the biggest shareholder! Nothing but this fog, which we’ve been cursing, has prevented her getting away! Oh! I’ve been deaf, dumb and blind! But we’ve got her! We’ve got her!”
Maitland, too, now tingled with excitement. The bits of the puzzle began to fit themselves together at last. Why Sumuru —unless in a mood of bravado—had betrayed her route out of London, he could not imagine. But, resting upon his theory that Sumuru was known as Lady Carradale, only one conclusion could be drawn.
She had planned a getaway by plane… the fog had trapped her!…
And during this time he and his fellow hunters had blundered through a neglected orchard, being tripped by thorny undergrowth and delayed by low branches.
Constable Sims was leading them to the nearest entrance to the airfield. He led, once clear of the orchard, along a bridle-path and out on to a secondary road. A final spurt Drought them to a wide drive over which extended a metal sign bearing the words:—
Carradale Ltd….
“Look at… all the lights,” Ives panted, “… on the runway… Here … we are—”
A man stepped out from a box and interrupted the breathless three.
“Just a minute! Just a minute! Your passes?”
But Ives was in no mood for interruption. He hurled the man aside.
“Police business… Detective Inspector Ives of Scotland Yard… My assistants… Out of the way! Don’t argue!”
They ran on towards those distant rays piercing smokily through the fog. Behind them, the doorkeeper was shouting—and they heard a muffled bell.
In sight of a batlike shape outlined by powerful lights and surrounded by moving figures, Maitland stopped dead, clutching Ives’s arm.
“My God! Look! Look!”
Heralded by a shattering crash followed instantly by a fiendish howling which resembled that of massed sirens, the great bat rose from the ground, dipped, rose again, and climbing like a rocket, shot up into the pall of fog, and was gone!
Its eerie shriek died in remote distance. A hush of consternation claimed all…
The doorkeeper had caught up with them. Another man accompanied him—a burly man of authoritative bearing.
“It’s suicide,” Maitland groaned—“deliberate suicide!” He turned, as the new arrival touched him on the shoulder. “You, sir! I am from the Foreign Office. Be good enough to tell me—for God’s sake what has happened? My name is Dr. Steel Maitland… Chief Inspector Ives of Scotland Yard, here.”
The burly man hesitated for a moment—but the presence of a constable in uniform evidently convinced him.
“I can’t imagine what has brought you to Carda field, gentlemen. My name in Colonel Elton … As to what has happened, that’s tragically simple. The top-secret Carradale Super-Hornet was to be tested today and stood ready on the runway. One of our best pilots, a Frenchman—Squadron-Leader Silvestre—was standing by with a ground crew. I was compelled, however, to order the flight to be cancelled, and we were only awaiting the arrival of Lady Carradale, who had arranged to inspect the craft before the take-off. A few minutes ago she came in—delayed by the fog—with her chauffeur. Both stepped into the Super-Hornet—”
“Both? Yes, yes! But—”
“Before anyone knew what had happened, Silvestre gave the order. Sheer madness… Temporary insanity, beyond doubt… The men obeyed… and the Hornet was airborne—with Lady Carradale on board! God help them all…. We shall never see one of them again!” Steel Maitland glanced at Ives’s grim face. “I wonder!” he said.
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