the idea was morgan's.
"we're going to call at bloomsbury mansions to begin with; that's to be the first move in our plan of campaign." herbert nash looking a note of interrogation, mr. morgan condescended to explain. "how many times am i to tell you that bloomsbury mansions was where mr. joseph oldfield lived when he was in town? when he was there he was peter piper's popular pills; when he wasn't there if you'd talked to him about pills i dare say he wouldn't have known what you meant."
"but why should we go to bloomsbury mansions?"
"doesn't your own common-sense tell you, my dear nash, that the more a man knows about the game he's going to play the better chance he has of winning? certainly it does, because you're one of the cleverest men i know. very well then; if you and i can manage to be alone together in that flat for, say, half-an-hour, there's very little about joseph oldfield which, at the end of that time, we shan't know. unless i'm mistaken, that's where the key to the situation is; it must be somewhere, and i tell you it's there. that's where all his business papers are, which you and baynard couldn't find at cloverlea; his books, his accounts, the lists of his securities; perhaps some of the securities themselves; and, what's more, the whole financial history of those immortal pills. we shall be able to find out what exactly mr. frank clifford's position is, and how we shall best be able to get at him. i'm no gamester; i object to gambling on principle; yet i'm willing to bet a trifle that after i've been there half-an-hour i'll be in a position--with the aid of what i know already--to squash mr. frank clifford between my finger and thumb; and between us, my boy, we'll have peter piper's popular pills, and the pile they represent, lying at our feet."
"i tell you again, morgan, what i've told you before, that i think you pitch your anticipations too high; there are all sorts of difficulties in the way which you don't seem to appreciate. anyhow how do you intend to get into this flat? do you propose to commit burglary?"
"am i a criminal? a felon? i've been an honest man all my life, and i mean to die an honest man. no, my dear nash, we're going in through the front door, in broad daylight, before the eyes of the whole staff of the mansions, if the whole staff chooses to look on, and, as about flats they're mostly a prying lot, they may do; we're going to let ourselves in with mr. joseph oldfield's own private and particular latch-key, and a very private and particular latch-key it is. i lay--betting again! you see, nash, how a bad habit, once indulged in, grows on one--that, knowing what kind of people they are about flats, he had both lock and key specially made for him; and here that key is."
he held out a small and curious-looking key, of the bramah type. mr. nash eyed it dubiously, as if it were something which he would rather leave alone.
"how do you know it is the key? and where did you get it from?"
"question no. 2 first, as to where i got it. when the late donald lindsay was seized with that most unfortunate stroke i assisted in undressing him; afterwards i folded up his clothes and put them away, and, in the ordinary course of my duty, i examined the pockets. in a small and ingeniously placed pocket inside his waistcoat--which the commonplace searcher would have overlooked--i found this key, secreted. that set me thinking. you will observe that on the tiny ring to which it is attached there is a number. when i learnt certain facts i caused inquiries to be made of a firm which i happen to know manufactures keys like this, asking how long it would take them to make mr. joseph oldfield a duplicate key to his fiat in bloomsbury mansions, quoting this number. they replied to the effect that they could let him have another key in four-and-twenty hours; so that's how i know that this is the key to the flat in bloomsbury mansions."
"you've a roundabout way of your own of finding out things."
"roundabout ways are sometimes the shortest, and the safest. now, my dear nash, you and i are going together to bloomsbury mansions; you will be the bearer of the key; you will show the key to the porter who we shall probably find there; you will tell him that you are mr. oldfield's solicitor--which you are; let us keep to the strict and literal truth; he will say 'walk in!' and, when we have walked in, i think that the rest you can leave to me."
herbert nash did not like mr. morgan's little plan; he disliked it very much, and said so with considerable force of language, which the gentleman to whom it was addressed did not at all resent. he simply smiled, and persuaded mr. nash; having means of persuasion at his command which that person seemed most unwillingly to feel that he was not in a position to resist; the result being that, as we have heard, the pair did gain access to the flat in bloomsbury mansions; the porter, as mr. morgan had prophesied, looking on as they went in. when they had entered they found themselves in a fair-sized hall.
"i wonder," said nash, as if struck by the silence of the place, "how he managed for servants."
"the flat people provided service, i expect; they cater, and do everything for tenants if they're wanted to."
"do you mean to say that he lived here all alone?"
"generally, i fancy; though when the humour took him he may have kept up any sort of an establishment for all i know; i'll be able to tell you more on that head when i've been over the place. now let me see. from what i know of the arrangements of flats i should say that that room over there was his own particular apartment." he moved to the door to which he referred. "locked; however, there's the key in the lock, and it turns quite easily." he threw it open. "right i am! nash, this is joseph oldfield's ali baba's treasure-cave; perhaps presently you'll be fingering some of his precious things. but before we start at that let's see what's behind these other doors; i always like to know the lay of the land before i commence actual operations." mr. morgan began opening door after door, glancing at what was behind each, then shutting it again; herbert nash stood in the hall and watched. "looks like a drawing-room; what did he want with a drawing-room, a lone-lorn bachelor? seem to be some nice things in it too. a bedroom, furnished up to the knocker. my word! that bed cost money; he lay well. bathroom; spared nothing even over his bath. dining-room; nothing cheap about that either; he spent money upon this place; i suppose he walked straight out of the bath to his food. another bedroom; everything in the palest pink; that's meant for a woman's occupation i'll swear. i wonder who it was meant for? looks as if it had never been lived in. what are those over the way? domestic offices, i take it; kitchen; yes, and the rest of it, i know; we'll pay attention to you perhaps a trifle later. now we'll return to ali baba's treasure-cave. come along, nash."
mr. nash followed him into the room; he entered with what seemed dragging footsteps, glancing round, when he was in, with a shame-faced air.
"morgan," he protested, "i don't like this; i don't care what you say, i don't like it; if we're not committing burglary, we're doing something which is not far off."
"don't talk nonsense; you a lawyer! and talking about burglary! stuff! if you imagine, mr. nash, that i'm the sort of person who would commit burglary you're mistaken. haven't you got all your explanations pat? you've as much right to be here as any man on this side the grave. very nice room i call this; very nice; well adapted for a gentleman's occupation. the late oldfield had a pretty taste in bric-a-brac; like mr. donald lindsay, he'd a good eye for a promising investment. i'm a bit of an authority on the subject myself, so i know. there's a pair of powder blue vases over there--both oldfield and lindsay seem to have had a liking for powder blue--which wouldn't be out of the way at a thousand. and unless i'm mistaken that cabinet in the corner is a genuine boule; oldfield wasn't likely to have anything imitation about his place; if it is i should like to have the coin it's worth in my pocket; perhaps we shall have it in both our pockets before very long, eh, nash? what do you think? my dear boy, the contents of this room, the mere trimmings, so to speak, are worth a small fortune in themselves, you can take it from me; i was quite right in calling it ali baba's treasure-cave."
"morgan, look at this!"
"look at what? hello! what's that?"
nash was pointing to a large framed photograph, which stood upon a centre table.
"it's miss lindsay; it's his daughter."
"so it is; and a fine photograph too; and a good likeness."
"she--she was with him even when he was here."
there was an odd catch in his voice; mr. morgan was as unmoved as ever.
"you mean her effigy was."
"and--and look at that portrait over the mantel."
"rather a fine bit of painting; quite decent; good colour; clever drawing; face seems alive."
"can't you see who it is? it's his wife."
"never saw the lady; but i shouldn't be surprised; there's no mistaking the likeness to the girl. so while he was living a double life he was living it with his wife and child; queer thing human nature."
"morgan, i feel as if those women were looking at us."
"looking at us? what do you mean?"
"i--i'm sure they can see us; look how they're staring!"
"staring! nash! stop that! one would think you'd been drinking; or perhaps it's a nip of something you want; there ought to be a decanter somewhere about."
"i want nothing; it would make no difference."
"then let's get to business. i've a theory; you listen, and tell me what you think of it. from what we know of the late oldfield i rather infer that when he left the flat he left the keys of all these drawers, and cupboards, and things, behind him; that's the kind of thing he would do; and i know that they weren't at cloverlea; i'm guessing that they're somewhere about the place at this moment. now what's your idea of the kind of hiding-place he'd choose?"
"i don't know; and i don't care."
"what do you mean by you don't care? you seem to be in a nice mood, my lad."
"i'll not touch a thing here; nothing!"
"won't you? then don't! who asked you? i'll do all the touching that's wanted; only--mind! if you shirk now you'll pay for it when the time for sharing comes."
"i'm not quite the scoundrel you take it for granted that i am."
"no, you're another and a worse kind, you're a white-livered cur. you do the sneak game, when you think it's safe, for pennies; but when it comes to the man's game, for something worth having, you whine. i can see that i shall have to talk to you as i haven't done yet before you really do begin to find out where you are; but i haven't time to do it now. where's he likely to have put those keys? anyhow we ought to be able to get at his writing-table drawers without them; i shouldn't say that there was anything very special about their locks." he took something out of his pocket which he inserted in the keyhole of the top drawer. "it only wants a little--a little management. i thought so; that's done it; drawer no. 1." he drew the top drawer open, and instantly pushed it back again. "what's that?"
there was the sound of an electric bell.
"it's--it's somebody ringing."
"i know it's somebody ringing; i'm not deaf, am i? i don't need you to tell me that it's somebody ringing; but who's ringing? who knows that we're here?"
"perhaps it's the porter; or somebody connected with the mansions."
the two men stood staring at each other; nash white-faced. the bell was heard again.
"you go and see who's there; if it's the porter, or any one of that sort, you bluff him off. and mind, if you make a mess of things through funk, it'll be you who'll pay."
"i'm not afraid, mr. morgan; at least, not in the sense you mean."
herbert nash went to the front door; morgan remained in the room, listening. without was a young man; behind him was the porter.
"i beg your pardon," said the young man; "but the porter tells me that mr. oldfield's solicitor, mr. nash, is here; are you mr. nash?"
"i am."
"allow me to introduce myself. my name is clifford--frank clifford; i am mr. oldfield's manager--at marlborough buildings; possibly he has mentioned my name to you."
a voice came from within--morgan's.
"certainly he has mentioned your name to us, mr. clifford; we know it very well, and all about you. step in, you're the very man we want to see. nash, let mr. clifford in."
after what seemed to be a moment's hesitation mr. nash drew the door wider open, so as to permit of clifford's entering. when he was in the door was shut.
