The Sins of Severac Bablon Part 50

"You have my respectful attention," he said.

"Well, sir,"--Sheffield was palpably embarra.s.sed--"there's nothing to be gained by beating about the bus.h.!.+ Excuse me, sir! But I know, and you know, that Lady Mary Evershed--your niece, sir--and her American friend, Miss Zoe Oppner, are----"

"Yes, inspector?"

"Are acquainted with Severac Bablon!"

Mr. Belford scrutinised Sheffield closely. There was more in the man than appeared at first sight.

"Is this regrettable fact so generally known?" he asked rather coldly.

"No, sir," replied the other; "but if the case went on the Secret Service Fund it might be compromising!"

"Do I understand you to mean, inspector, that the discretion of our political agents is not to be relied upon?"

"No, sir. But your--private information could hardly be withheld from them--as it has been withheld from us!"

Even the politician's studied reserve was not proof against that thrust.

He started. Chief-Inspector Sheffield, after all, was a man to be counted with. A silence fell between them--to be broken by the Home Secretary.

"Your frankness pleases me, Inspector Sheffield."

The other bowed awkwardly.

"I perceive that you would make a bargain. I am to take you into my confidence, and you, in turn, hope to render any employment of the Fund unnecessary?"

"Whatever you tell me, sir, will go no farther--not to one other living.

Better confide in me than in a political agent. Then, you can't have anything more incriminating than this."

He took a card from his pocket and placed it before Mr. Belford.

"TO LADY MARY EVERSHED.

"I shall always be indebted to you and to Miss Oppner, but I can a.s.sure you of Sir Richard's safety.

"SeVERAC BABLON."

"No one has seen that but myself," continued the detective. "I know better! But anything further you can let me have, sir, will help me to get them out of the tangle: that's what I'm aiming at!"

Mr. Belford's expression had changed when the d.a.m.ning card was placed before him; but his decision was quickly come to. He opened a drawer of the writing table.

"Here," he said, pa.s.sing a sheet of foolscap to the inspector, "is the plan of international co-operation which--I will return candour for candour--the increasing importance of the case renders expedient. It was drawn up by my friend the Foreign Secretary. It ensures secrecy, dispatch, and affords no loophole by which Bablon can escape us."

His manner had grown brisk. The dilettante was lost in the man of action.

Inspector Sheffield read carefully through the long doc.u.ment and returned it to Belford, frowning thoughtfully.

"Thank you, sir," he said; "and what else?"

Mr. Belford smiled thoughtfully.

"You are aware that, owing to the family complications referred to, I have been employing Mr. Paul Harley, the private detective?"

Sheffield nodded.

"He has secured other letters, incriminating a Mr. Sheard, of the staff of the _Gleaner_; Sir Richard Haredale, of the ---- Guards; Miss Zoe Oppner; and ... well--you know the worst--my niece, again!" The inspector drew a long, deep breath.

"Next to Victor Lemage, who's also an accomplice," he said admiringly, "I don't mind admitting that Harley is the smartest man in the business.

But in justice to us, sir, you must remember that our hands are tied. A C.I.D. man isn't allowed to do what Harley can do."

"I grant it, inspector. Now, having given you my confidence, I rely upon you to work with me--not against me."

"I am with you entirely, sir. May I have those letters?"

Mr. Belford hesitated.

"It is surely inconsistent with your duty to keep them private?"

"What about the one in my pocket, sir? That alone is sufficient, if I wanted to make a scandal. No; I give you my word that no other eye shall see them."

The Home Secretary shrugged his shoulders, and taking up the bundle from which already he had selected Severac Bablon's three communications, he placed it in the detective's hands.

"I rely upon you to keep certain names out of the affair."

"I give you my word that they shall never be mentioned in connection with it. You have taken the only course which could ensure that, sir.

May I see the photographs?"

If the Right Hon. Walter Belford had already revised his first estimate of Inspector Sheffield, this last request upset it altogether. He stared.

"I am glad to enjoy your co-operation, inspector," he said. "I prefer to know that a man of your calibre is of my camp! You are evidently aware that Harley has secured an elaborate series of snapshots of persons known to Miss Oppner and to my niece. Of the several hundreds of persons photographed, only one negative proved to be interesting. I have enlarged the photograph myself. Here it is!"

He took a photograph from the drawer.

"This gentleman," he continued, "was taken in the act of bowing to Lady Mary and Miss Oppner at the corner of Bond Street."

Sheffield glanced at the photograph. It represented a strikingly handsome man, with dark, curling hair and singularly flas.h.i.+ng eyes, who was in the act of raising his hat.

"It's Severac Bablon!" said the inspector simply.

"Ah!" cried Belford. "So I thought! So I thought!"

"May I take it with me?"

"I think not, inspector. You know the man; it is scarcely necessary."

And with a certain displeasure he laid the enlargement upon the table.

The detective accepted his refusal with one of the awkward bows.