The Gray Mask by Charles Wadsworth Camp (ereader iphone TXT) 📕

HE ran swiftly west, past the house on the corner, past the areaway where he had secreted himself last night, into Park Avenue, always on the course taken by the limousine. And, when he came to Black’s number, he saw the limousine drawn up, waiting. In the upper story of the small but expensive house lights burned. He pressed the electric button, sighing his relief. He was grimly determined to see the thing through. His resolution was stimulated by his memory of the queue, coiled like a serpent, watching to strike with fangs bearing the poison of degradation and death. Nora stood within reach of that, perhaps, was already its victim. So when the door was opened by a sleek serving-man, he did not hesitate.

“I must see Mr. Black.”

The servant displayed a mild astonishment at his tone.

“I’m sorry, sir. Mr. Black is not at home.”

The lights he had noticed upstairs and the limousine gave Garth confidence.

“Mr. Black,” he said, “is the brother-in-law of the president of the Society for Social Justice.”

The servant nodded.

“Then he will see me.”

The other was shocked.

“Really, sir—”

Garth gave him a glimpse of his badge, pushed past, and entered the reception hall. The servant turned, staring at him with insolent eyes.

“You’ll have to get out of here Mr. Black has no official connection with the society. What do you mean by forcing—”

Garth called:

“Mr. Black! Mr. Black!”

The servant tried to catch his arm.

“This is outrageous.”

“Mr. Black!” Garth called again.

And the response he had prayed for, the response he had made up his mind to force at all hazards, came quavering from the upper floor.

“Who is that? What’s all this row, Arnold?”

Garth sprang up the stairs, eager and relieved at the quality of the voice. The young man of the limousine stood at the head, bending anxiously over, backed against the railing, as if to repel an assault.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Black,” Garth said hurriedly. “I have to speak to you about something too important for delay.”

He paused, embarrassed, reluctant to go on, for in the brightly lighted doorway of the living-room a woman had appeared, small, with an extraordinary grace of figure, and a face which, in a trivial, light-hearted way, impressed him as rarely beautiful. She wore evening dress. A wrap was draped acrossher arm. Her resemblance to Manford established her identity beyond debate. She glanced at Garth with an amused curiosity quite at variance with her husband’s emotion. She smiled tolerantly.

“Quite like a bearer of evil tidings in a play, but even they don’t come upstairs, unannounced.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Black,” Garth said apologetically. “Your man drew the long bow. I couldn’t be put off.”

But the smiling, graceful figure was a defence, almost incontestable. Nothing short of Nora’s danger could have armed him to overcome it. He would, however, spare Black’s wife as far as possible.

“I wanted to speak to you, Mr. Black, privately.”

He turned back to the woman.

“You see I come from your brother, the head of the Society for Social Justice.”

“What can he want at this time of night?” she said.

She advanced to the head of the staircase.

“It makes no difference, John. You weren’t coming anyway. I’ll tell Aunt Sarah why—business!”

She laughed lightly and passed on down the stairs.

Garth breathed more freely. He waited until the front door had slammed, until he had heard the motor whir, until he was sure she was started for her reception or dance, unsuspecting the desolation he had brought into her home. Then he swung on Black.

“Come in here.”

He indicated the living-room.

Black followed with uncertain steps. The light shone on his sallow face out of which heavy eyes looked distrustfully.

“What do you want?” he asked. “What does Manford want?”

“Don’t trouble to sit down, Mr. Black,” Garth directed. “I’ve little time—just enough to tell you that I’m on to you.”

Black with an odd, halting motion reached the centre table. His fingers shaking, he lifted a cigarette from a silver box and essayed to strike a match. The wood splintered. He fumbled aimlessly about the table. He took the unlighted cigarette from his mouth. He stammered.

“Wh—what the devil do you mean?”

“No use bluffing,” Garth said. “You give yourself away. But don’t get too scared. I’m the only one who knows.”

The other’s voice was scarcely audible.

“Who are you?”

Garth threw back his coat lapel, displaying momentarily his badge.

Black’s voice rose on a shrill note.

“It’s a lie! It’s a lie!”

Garth shook his head.

“I watched you last night,” he said, “planting money here and there—a pretty, generous fancy, just to give people the joy of finding it. Men don’t do such things in their right senses. I’ve heard of it, but the fact that you were the brother-in-law of the head of an organization that was after thesecases offered a more likely explanation. Put me off the track. Thought you were working for him. Now that I’ve had a good look at you, there’s no question.”

Black made a last pitiful effort

“This is blackmail.”

“I have my price,” Garth admitted.

Black sat on the table edge.

“I’ll put them on to you down town—through Manford.”

Garth laughed outright.

“You! You’d never have the nerve Give a police surgeon one good look at you!”

Black fumbled in one of the drawers. He lifted out a cheque book.

“How much?” he asked with dry lips.

“Not money,” Garth said.

He felt every nerve in his body tighten.

“When I saw you making a fool of yourself last night,” he went on, “you had come straight from a house you are going to get me in tonight.”

The cheque book fluttered to the floor.

“Wh-whatfor?”

“To save a woman,” Garth answered. “It’s enough for you to know that they’ve trapped her there, and that she means too much to me—”

Black turned on him with a snarl.

“You mean you love her. Then maybe you can understand. What about my wife?”

“Black,” Garth said quietly, “you stand a better chance of sparing your wife if you meet my price. I promise to do all I can to keep you out of the scandal. I’ll get you away clean if it can be done. All I ask is, that for your wife’s sake, you’ll try to be a man. But now you listen. By gad, if you refuse to do this thing, I’ll raise a scandal that will finish you once for all I’ll shout the thing from the housetops. I’ll take you to a cell within the next ten minutes. What about your wife then? Look at me. I’m not bluffing. I hate it, but I’ve no choice. It’s life and death to me, and, since it’s all I’ve got, I’m going to use your reputation to make it life.”

Black sank into a chair, covering his face.

“You do mean it. I can’t do it. I tell you I can’t do it.”

Garth stood over the man. As he fought, there came back to him with an advocacy not to be denied, the memory of Nora’s altered face, out of which, however, her eyes, unalterable, had glanced at him with a definite appeal

“Yes you can,” he said savagely. “They’ll let you vouch for a—friend. And if you don’t, you’ll give the game away to a jury and a crowded court room.”

Black’s hands dropped. He stared straight ahead. He did not answer.

Garth reached out and grasped the telephone. Black stumbled to his feet and tore at Garth’s arm.

“What are you going to do?”

“Call for a patrol wagon to drive up to your exalted home.”

“No, no.no!”

“Then you agree?”

“You’ll come with me alone?”

“Yes.”

“Then I agree.”

The gleam in Black’s eye was revealing. It retarded Garth’s relief. It warned him that, entering the place alone, he could be handled, as, perhaps, Nora had been handled.

“I’ll get my hat and coat,” Black said.

“No,” Garth answered. “From now on you’ll stick to me like a brother.”

He took the receiver from the telephone and got the inspector at the station house. While Black protested, he instructed the inspector to have a man follow Black and himself, and, no matter what house they entered, to surround that entire block and to keep a watch on every house front. If he could communicate in no other way, Garth promised to fire his revolver twice, if possible, from a front window.

Black shrank back.

“But you said—alone.”

“Alone,” Garth answered, “but that’s what’s going to happen once I’m in. I’m not throwing my life away. Are you ready, or do you prefer the cell and your picture in the morning papers?”

Black led the way without further protests down the staircase. At the foot he broke down