The Voice from the Void: The Great Wireless Mystery Part 14

"Freda goes now and then. But she gives money to the old parson and excuses herself for non-attendance on Sunday mornings. Oh! my dear Jimmie!" he laughed. "These people want a lot of moss sc.r.a.ping off them, don't they--eh?"

"Moss! Why, it's that hard, grey lichen with hairy flowers that grows on trees! They want it all sc.r.a.ped off, then rubbed with sandpaper and a rag and acid applied to put a bit of vim in them. It's the same over all this faded old country--that's my belief."

"And yet some of them are infernally cute. That old man Homfray, for instance, he's got his eyes skinned. He doesn't forget that silly young a.s.s Hugh Willard, you know!"

"No, Gordon! Don't mention him. That's one of our failures--one of our false steps," declared Jimmie. "I don't like to hear any mention of his name--nor of Hyde Park Square either."

"Rot! my dear fellow! What can the old clergyman know? Nothing. It's all surmise--and what does that matter? There's no trace, and--"

"And we made a profit--and a fine lot of good it did us."

"It was Freda's doing. She worked it out."

"I know. And, thanks to her, we are in the infernal peril we are to-day, my dear Gordon."

"Peril? Bos.h.!.+ What are you thinking of, Jimmie?" laughed Gray.

"There's not a written word."

"But you know what old Homfray said to Freda--what he threatened--a witness!"

"Witness!" laughed the good-looking man, tossing his cigarette end viciously into the fire. "Don't believe it, my dear old chap. He was only trying to bluff her--and Freda knows a game worth two of that--the game we are playing with the old fool's son."

"A highly dangerous game--I call it!" was the butler's dubious reply.

"Leave that to me."

"But he might recognise me, Gordon!"

"Rot! You won't meet him."

"What about Freda?"

"Don't worry. The boy was so dazed by the drug that he'll never recognise her again. She tried to make him believe that he himself had committed a crime. And she succeeded."

"Old Homfray may have told him about us and about the Willard affair.

What then?"

"No fear of that. Old Homfray will say nothing to his son. He wouldn't expose himself."

But Claribut shook his head in doubt.

"My opinion is that we're treading on very thin ice. I don't like this house--and I don't like the look of things at all."

"The house is all right. Young Homfray can recollect nothing clearly after he found the girl."

"Of course, his friends are laughing at this weird story of how he discovered her," said Claribut. "But we don't know whether, in some way or other, his story may be corroborated. And then--"

"Well, even then there's no evidence to connect us with the affair.

None whatever. We got them both clear away in the car, thanks to your marvellous ingenuity, Jimmie. And naturally he wonders where Edna is."

"And so do two or three other people," Claribut remarked. "Recollect there are some unwelcome inquiries on foot in another quarter."

"I don't fear them in the least. All we have to do now is to sit tight and watch the young fellow's movements. We want to ascertain what he is doing concerning that concession. We must discover that man Barclay at Richmond and find out what sort of fellow he is. I may have to approach him. We both of us know Morocco--eh, Jimmie? That little bit of gun-running helping the Moors against the Spanish was exciting enough-- wasn't it?"

"Yes. And it brought us in big profits, too. I wish we had another slice of luck like it," Claribut agreed.

"Well, we may. Who knows? I'll see what I can find out about emeralds in Morocco."

At that moment the woman Crisp came in. She was wearing a long mink coat, with a splendid blue fox around her neck and a small grey velour hat which suited her to perfection.

"Hallo, Gordon! Back again. How's Paris looking?"

"Looking? I was only there nine hours, just to see Francillon. Good job I went. He didn't see the risk. He's slipped off to Switzerland.

He left the Gare de Lyon at eleven this morning, and the Surete are now looking, for him. He got off just in the nick of time."

"You came over by air, I suppose?"

"Yes, left Le Bourget at ten and was at Croydon just after twelve. I left the car at Croydon yesterday afternoon when I went over. Rather a bad fog over the Channel and it took us over three hours."

"Did you see Milly?"

"Yes, called at the Continental last night and had half an hour's chat with her. She seems well enough, and had booked her pa.s.sage to New York from Cherbourg on the eighteenth."

"And what's the latest about young Homfray?" asked the handsome woman, divesting herself of her furs.

"I was just discussing him with Jimmie. He seems to have unearthed one or two things while poking about at Little Farncombe."

"Yes. But there's one fact that I've discovered to-day--a very important fact," she said.

"Well, what's the trouble now?" asked Gray. "Young Homfray is watching us!"

"Watching us? What do you mean?" asked the man, turning pale. "Has the old man told him about us?"

"He may have done. That we can't tell. Only I found out that the other night Homfray was watching outside Purcell Sandys' house in Park Lane, and saw me go in with Arthur. He inquired our names of one of the servants."

"Gad! Then he's already recognised you--eh?" cried Gray. "That's horribly awkward."

"It is--in many ways! We must devise some plan to close the young man's mouth."

"But how, Freda?"

"The drug will work again in a day or two. When it does he'll be a hopeless idiot and n.o.body will credit a word he's said."

"It may work--and it may not. Jimmie says that some Harley Street fellow has been giving him injections. That looks as though the drug has been spotted--eh?"

"Yes, it does. But old Grunberg a.s.sured me that a reaction must set in and hopeless idiocy will be the result. At least, let's hope so."

"I'm not so hopeful. The lad may yet be of some use to us. It's fortunate that he's never seen me."