Read Ebook: The avenger by Wallace Edgar

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Ebook has 1554 lines and 53832 words, and 32 pages

subject.

"No, I gave no instructions to put up marks. Where is it?"

Michael showed him.

"I wouldn't have a mark up there, anyway, should I? Right in the middle of a window! What do you make of it?"

"I think Foss put it there with one object. The window was marked at Gregory's request."

"But why?" asked Knebworth, staring.

"To show Bhag Adele Leamington's room. That's why," said Michael, and he was confident that his view was an accurate one.

MICHAEL did not wait to see the early morning scenes shot. He had decided upon a course of action, and as soon as he conveniently could, he made his escape from the Dower House, and, crossing a field, reached the road which led to Griff Towers. Possessing a good eye for country, he had duly noted the field-path which ran along the boundary of Sir Gregory Penne's estate, and was, he guessed, a short cut to Griff; and ten minutes' walk brought him to the stile where the path joined the road. He walked quickly, his eyes on the ground, looking for some trace of the beast; but there had been no rain, and, unless he had wounded the animal, there was little hope that he would pick up the track.

Presently he came to the high flint wall which marked the southern end of the baronet's grounds, and this he followed until he came to a postern let in the wall, a door that appeared to have been recently in use, for it was ajar, he noted with satisfaction.

Pushing it open, he found himself in a large field which evidently served as kitchen garden for the house. There was nobody in sight. The grey tower looked even more forbidding and ugly in the early morning light. No smoke came from the chimneys; Griff was a house of the dead. Nevertheless, he proceeded cautiously, and, instead of crossing the field, moved back into the shadow of the wall until he reached the high boxwood fence that ran at right angles and separated the kitchen garden from that beautiful pleasaunce which Jack Knebworth had used the previous morning as a background for his scenes.

And all the time he kept his eyes roving, expecting at any moment to see the hideous figure of Bhag appear from the ground. At last he reached the end of the hedge. He was now within a few paces of the gravelled front, and less than half a dozen yards from the high, square grey tower which gave the house its name.

From where he stood he could see the whole front of the house. The drawn white blinds, the general lifelessness of Griff, might have convinced a less sceptical man than Mike Brixan that his suspicions were unfounded.

He was hesitating as to whether he should go to the house or not, when he heard a crash of glass, and looked up in time to see fragments falling from the topmost room of the tower. The sun had not yet risen, the earth was still wrapped in the illusory dawn light, and the hedge made an admirable hiding-place.

Who was breaking windows at this hour of the morning? Surely not the careful Bhag--so far he had reached in his speculations when the morning air was rent by a shrill scream, of such fear that his flesh went cold. It came from the upper room and ended abruptly, as though somebody had put his hand over the mouth of the unfortunate from whom that cry of terror had been wrung.

Hesitating no longer, Michael stepped from his place of concealment, ran quickly across the gravel, and pulled at the bell before the great entrance, which was immediately under the tower. He heard the clang of the bell and looked quickly round, to make absolutely sure that Bhag or some of the copper-coloured retainers of Griff Towers were not trailing him.

A minute passed--two--and his hand was again raised to the iron bell-pull, when he heard heavy feet in the corridor, a shuffle of slippers on the tiled floor of the hall, and a gruff voice demanded:

"Who's there?"

"Michael Brixan."

There was a grunt, a rattle of chains, a snapping of locks, and the big door opened a few inches.

Gregory Penne was wearing a pair of grey flannel trousers and a shirt, the wristbands of which were unfastened. His malignant glare changed to wonder at the sight of the detective.

"What do you want?" he demanded, and opened the door a few more inches.

"I want to see you," said Michael.

"Usually call at daybreak?" growled the man as he closed the door on his visitor.

Michael made no answer, but followed Gregory Penne to his room. The library had evidently been occupied throughout the night. The windows were shuttered, the electroliers were burning, and before the fire was a table and two whisky bottles, one of which was empty.

"Have a drink?" said Penne mechanically, and poured himself out a portion with an unsteady hand.

"Is your ape in?" asked Michael, refusing the preferred drink with a gesture.

"What, Bhag? I suppose so. He goes and comes as he likes. Do you want to see him?"

"Not particularly," said Michael. "I've seen him once to-night."

Penne was lighting the stub of a cigar from the fire as he spoke, and he looked round quickly.

"You've seen him before? What do you mean?"

"I saw him at the Dower House, trying to get into Miss Leamington's room, and he was as near to being a dead orang-outang as he has ever been."

The man dropped the lighted spill on the hearth and stood up.

"Did you shoot him?" he asked.

"I shot at him."

Gregory nodded.

"You shot at him," he said softly. "That accounts for it. Why did you shoot him? He's perfectly harmless."

"He didn't strike me that way," said Michael coolly. "He was trying to pull Miss Leamington from her room."

The man's eyes opened.

"He got so far, did he? Well?"

There was a pause.

"You sent him to get the girl," said Michael. "You also bribed Foss to put a mark on the window so that Bhag should know where the girl was sleeping."

He paused, but the other made no reply.

"The cave man method is fairly beastly, even when the cave man does his own kidnapping. When he sends an anthropoid ape to do his dirty work, it passes into another category."

The man's eyes were invisible now; his face had grown a deeper hue.

"So that's your line, is it?" he said. "I thought you were a pal."

"I'm not responsible for your illusions," said Michael. "Only I tell you this"--he tapped the man's chest with his finger--"if any harm comes to Adele Leamington that is traceable to you or your infernal agent, I shan't be contented with shooting Mr. Bhag; I will come here and shoot you! Do you understand? And now you can tell me, what is the meaning of that scream I heard from your tower?"

"Who the hell do you imagine you're cross-questioning?" spluttered Penne, livid with fury. "You dirty, miserable little actor!"

Michael slipped a card from his pocket and put it in the man's hand.

"You'll find my title to question you legibly inscribed," he said.

The man brought the card to the table-lamp and read it. The effect was electrical. His big jaw dropped, and the hand that held the card trembled so violently that it dropped to the floor.

"A detective?" he croaked. "A--a detective! What do you want here?"

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