The Mystery Queen Page 12

  Marcus Penn had not improved in looks since Dan had last seen him. His thin face was still yellow, his hair and moustache still scanty, and he appeared to be as nervous as ever. When he sat down he looked apprehensively at Halliday with his pale eyes, and passed his tongue over his dry lips. It seemed to the aviator that Penn’s conscience was not quite at rest, else he would scarcely look so scared, when—on the face of it—there was no need to do so. Dan, however, soon set him at his ease, which was the first necessary step towards gaining his confidence. For, unless that was gained the man assuredly would not mount the aeroplane.

  “How are you getting along, Mr. Penn?” said Halliday, genially. “Have a cigarette and something wet? Oh, I forgot you don’t drink so early in the day. I am glad you are up to time, as I am just starting out on a fly.”

  “Really,” remarked the secretary eagerly. “I should like to see you make a start. Is your flying-machine near at hand?”

  “In the shed over yonder, on the verge of the heath,” said Dan, jerking his head over his left shoulder; “but I daresay you wonder why I asked you to see me, Mr. Penn?”

  “Well, er—that is—er—I did wonder a trifle,” hesitated the pale man, and again looked anxious.

  “It has to do with your literary ambitions,” said Halliday slowly.

  Penn flushed, looking both relieved on learning why he had been summoned to the meeting and pleased that the subject should be of such personal interest. “What do you know of my literary ambitions?” he asked doubtfully.

  “All that Miss Moon could tell me,” said Dan, promptly, and this was absolutely correct, as Lillian had long ago asked him to aid the secretary, although he had never troubled about the matter until now.

  “Yes, I certainly did tell Miss Moon that I wished to become a novelist. I found her sympathetic.”

  “Yes, she would be; she always is. I suppose,” said Dan darting off at a tangent, “that you are comfortable with Lord Curberry?”

  “Oh, yes,” assented the man, cheerfully. “I have good pay and little to do, and Lord Curberry is very kind. I have plenty of time to write my stories.”

  “Have you had any published?”

  “No,” sighed Penn, sadly, “I have tried again and again to get some short tales printed, but so far, without success.”

  “Well, then, you know that I have a friend—Mr. Frederick Laurance—who is on that newspaper ‘The Moment’. I suggest that you should send me some of your manuscripts for him to read. If he approves of them he will see what he can do, as he knows nearly everyone of any note in the literary world.”

  “Oh, you are too good. I shall be delighted. All the same,” Penn hesitated, and writhed, “why should you do this for me?”

  “It is Miss Moon who is doing this for you,” rejoined Halliday, saying what was perfectly true. “She asked me to help you. I suppose she comes sometimes to Lord Curberry’s house?”

  “Oh, yes,” said Penn, with a swift glance at him, “her uncle, Sir John, and Miss Moon and Mrs. Bolstreath dined with Lord Curberry last week. I am afraid, Mr. Halliday,” added the secretary timidly, “that you will lose Miss Moon.”

  Dan laughed cheerfully. “I don’t think so. Why should I?”

  “Her uncle is very anxious for her to marry Lord Curberry, who is also very desirous to make Miss Moon his wife.”

  “That shows Curberry’s good taste,” said Halliday rising, and putting on his cap. “However, she is to be my wife, and Curberry and Sir John can go hang.”

  “I should not be so sure, Mr. Halliday,” said Penn, in a mysterious manner; “when Lord Curberry wants anything, he generally gets it.”

  “He is crying for the moon just now,” said the other man, making a pun, “and the moon is no man’s property. However, I must go off to start for my flying practice. I am going to compete in the London to York race next week. Come with me and see me start. As to your stories, you can send them to me at my old address, which you knew when you were with Sir Charles. I shall see Mr. Laurance about them.”

  “You are good,” murmured Penn, drawing a long breath and following Dan out of the inn, “I am obliged to you.”

  “To Miss Moon, you mean. She is the one who takes an interest in your literary efforts. But come along and see my machine. I got it from an inventor called Vincent,” and Dan turned suddenly to shoot an inquiring glance at his companion. It occurred to him that Penn might have heard the name since Penn had the perfume as well as Mrs. Jarsell, who knew the inventor. But evidently Penn had not heard the name, for he gave no sign of knowledge.

  “I hope it is a good machine,” he said innocently and weakly.

  “Very good,” said Halliday, as they halted near the great doors of the shed, “a clipper. Why not try a fly with me?”

  “Oh!” Penn shrank back. “I should be afraid.”

  “Nonsense, man!” joked the aviator while the aeroplane was wheeled out, and the usual crowd of onlookers began to gather. “As a literary man you ought to experience all sensation so as to write about it. Coming stories will be full of flying-machines and airships.”

  “Isn’t it dangerous?” asked Penn, looking at the delicate structure which appeared almost too fragile to sustain one person, let alone two.

  “Not at all, especially if one doesn’t do any fancy flying, which I shall avoid if you come with me.”

  “I should like to have the experience,” hesitated the secretary, “that is if you will not fly too high or too far.”

  “I’ll take you across the heath and back again and will keep within a tolerably safe distance from the ground.”

  “It’s tempting,” quavered Penn, wistfully, while Dan busied himself in getting things square.

  “Please yourself,” rejoined Halliday carelessly, and satisfied that the timid man was nibbling at the bait. “I can’t stay here all day.” He slipped into the pilot’s seat. “Well, well?”

  “I really think I should like—where am I to sit?”

  “In this place.” Dan touched a spring and the pilot box of aluminium lengthened out so that there was room for two people. This was one of Vincent’s improvements upon which he prided himself, as the vehicle could, by adjusting the closed-in car, seat two people or one, as the need arose. “But don’t come, if you feel the least fear.”

  Those of the idle spectators close at hand grinned at Penn’s pale face, and he was stung into accepting hastily what he would have rejected in a cooler moment. “I am not afraid,” he said, trying to steady his voice, and with an air of bravado he stepped in beside the aviator. “Oh, I say!” he gasped.

  And no wonder. Dan did not give him a moment to change his mind. Having captured his prey, he intended to keep him, so set the engine going almost before Penn was comfortably seated. In less time than it takes to tell the aeroplane whirled along the ground swiftly and lifted herself gracefully upward. Penn gasped again, and glanced down at the sinking ground, where the spectators were already beginning to grow smaller. But the motion of the biplane was so easy, and the face of her pilot so composed, that after the first thrill of terror Penn began to feel that flying was not such a very dangerous pastime as he had imagined.

  “Wonderful, wonderful,” he murmured, as the great artificial bird glided smoothly through the air, “but don’t—don’t go too high, Mr. Halliday.”

  “I shall go high enough to smash you,” said Dan, coolly. He was circling in swallow flights round the heath, now high now low, now swift now slow, and had the machine so entirely under command that he was enabled to give a certain amount of his attention, though not all, to his companion.

  Penn gasped again, and his terror revived. “Smash me! Oh!” he almost shrieked.

  “Yes,” said Dan, not looking, since he had to watch where he was going, but speaking rapidly and clearly all the same. “I want to know the truth about that perfume. About the Sumatra perfume which you told me was possessed alone by you. That was a lie, and you know it was a lie.”

  “I—I—
I don’t know anything about it,” whimpered the secretary.

  “Yes you do. Out with the truth,” said Dan relentlessly, “if you don’t I shall drop you overboard to smash like an egg.”

  Penn clung to his seat desperately. “That would be murder.”

  “I daresay, but I shouldn’t suffer. Accidents will happen in aeroplanes you know. You are like Mahomet’s coffin, slung between heaven and earth, and overboard Mahomet’s coffin will go in a few minutes, unless—” Dan swerved the machine which tilted slightly and Penn went green with terror.

  “What—what—what do you want to know?” he wailed, as the biplane dipped nearly to earth, to sweep upward in a graceful curve.

  “Who is Mrs. Jarsell?”

  “I—oh, Lord—I don’t know.”

  “You do. She has this perfume also. Has it anything to do with a gang?”

  “Yes, yes.” Penn’s teeth were chattering, and the sinking motion made him sick.

  “What has it to do with a gang?”

  “It’s—it’s a—a sign.”

  “Was Sir Charles murdered by this gang?”

  “I don’t know—I don’t know. Oh!” Penn screamed and clutched again at the side of the car.

  “You do. This false Mrs. Brown belonged to the gang.”

  “I can’t say. I daren’t tell you. If I say anything I shall die.”

  “You shall die if you don’t say what I want you to say,” said Dan between his teeth, and again the machine dipped and towered. “I’ll tilt you out, I swear, if you don’t tell me who murdered Sir Charles.”

  “I don’t know, I tell you,” cried Penn desperately, “the perfume has to do with a society of people, who—who—but I daren’t speak. I should be killed. I have said too much as it is. And if you reveal what I have said, you will be killed also.”

  “I don’t care. Is Mrs. Jarsell connected with this gang?”

  “I don’t know Mrs. Jarsell,” said Penn sullenly, although his terrified face showed that he was nearly frightened out of his wits.

  “Do you belong to this—” started Dan, when a sudden action of Penn took him by surprise. In endeavouring to frighten the man he had flown too low, and the aeroplane was only six feet off the ground, preparing to swing skyward again. The secretary, in desperation, flung himself sideways out of the machine, as it curved at the lowest and fell heavily on the herbage of the heath. Dan could not stop to see if he was safe or hurt, but soared aloft again to a considerable height. Circling widely he came sailing directly over the spot where the secretary had tumbled out in his desperate endeavour to escape. Already the man had picked himself up and was limping off toward the town as quickly as he was able.

  “Now”, said Dan grimly to himself, “he will have me arrested for attempted murder. That’s all right,” and he chuckled contentedly, even though he had not been entirely successful in his endeavour to make Penn confess.

  Chapter X. ANOTHER MYSTERY

  In his anxiety to learn the truth Dan was perfectly willing to be arrested on whatever charge Penn might wish to bring against him. After all, publicity was what he chiefly aimed at, and if he gave his reasons for threatening the secretary, he felt confident that the man would find it difficult to clear his character. Certainly Halliday had not intended to take Penn’s life, and had not the man been such a coward he would have simply laughed at the idea of being tilted out of the machine. But his nerves, shaken by the possible danger, had given way, and he had said much which he would have preferred to keep locked up in his heart. But that the aeroplane, by dipping so low, had afforded Penn the chance of escape at the risk of a rough fall, he would have spoken at greater length. And yet, after turning the matter over in his own mind, Dan could not be sure of this.

  But this much Halliday had learned. A gang assuredly existed, and the perfume was a sign of recognition amongst the members, who apparently followed each other’s trails by scent. Penn declined to say if his late employer had been done to death by the fraternity, but the perfume on the dead man’s clothes answered this question very positively. Also the secretary had denied that the false Mrs. Brown belonged to the gang, a statement which was absurd, as undoubtedly she was the emissary employed to bring about the death. Finally, the fact that Mrs. Jarsell used the Sumatra scent brought her into connection with the Hampstead crime whatever Penn might say. For these reasons Dan felt that he had struck a trail, which would end in the capture of Moon’s assassin and the breaking up of a dangerous organisation.

  On reflection he concluded that Penn would have said very little more, even though face to face with what he believed to be imminent death. He had hinted sufficiently to show that revelation was dangerous not only to himself but to Halliday, for if the gang learned that their secret was betrayed, it was certain that death would be portioned out to the man who heard, as well as to the man who spoke. On this assumption Dan felt confident that Penn would take no action in the matter, and would probably hold his tongue about the adventure. If he told any of the gang to which he presumably belonged, he would have to admit that he had betrayed the secret of the perfume, in which case he would assuredly be killed by his unscrupulous associates. The death of Dan, as the young man believed, would follow, but he also believed that by taking care of his own skin Penn would remove any risk of vengeance following himself; therefore he was not surprised when he heard nothing from Penn, or of Penn during the days that passed before the morning of the great race. Meanwhile he detailed the conversation to Laurance.

  That young gentleman had returned to town with some regret since Mildred Vincent was not by his side. But to assure himself of an early marriage by securing a steady income, he flung himself into journalistic work with redoubled energy, working night and day to gain an increased salary. He was in his office employed on a political article when Dan presented himself, and was not overpleased to give up even a moment of his precious time. In fact, he grumbled.

  “I wish you would come after business hours, Halliday,” he said, testily.

  “Oh, fudge!” retorted Dan, lightly. “A journalist hasn’t any business hours. Like a king, he is always in harness. Why do you require me to tell you such elementary truths, Freddy?”

  “I have an important article to write.”

  “Well, then, you can write it in ten minutes or so. I shan’t keep you long.”

  Laurance pushed away his writing paper, leaned back in his chair, and reached for a cigarette. “What is it, then?” he asked resignedly.

  Dan paced the office and related his adventure. “So you see, old son, that the perfume is of great importance, as I always suspected.”

  Laurance nodded gravely. “It appears so. But if what you think is true, would the man have disclosed a secret dangerous to his own safety?”

  “People will disclose anything when on the rack,” replied Dan with a shrug, “and the aeroplane was my rack. The fool really believed that I would tilt him overboard, and therefore said what he did say to save his confounded skin. If he had not escaped so cleverly he would have admitted more.”

  “I doubt it. From the hint he gave, if it was death for him not to confess to you, because you could kill him, it was equally death for him to speak, if his associates are prepared to murder him for babbling. However, we are now quite certain that the gang alluded to by Sir Charles does exist. Undoubtedly he was got out of the way since he knew too much.”

  “It is a pity he did not reveal his knowledge to Durwin.”

  “He intended to do so, but was murdered before Durwin arrived, as we know. By the way, Durwin is as keen as we are over this search. I met him the other day and he said that he was hunting everywhere for evidence. Why not tell him what you have learned, Dan? He can make Penn speak out.”

  “Penn won’t speak further,” denied Dan abruptly. “I think, as it is, he dreads the vengeance of his comrades.”

  “Durwin belongs to Scotland Yard, and has powers to drive Penn into a corner, so he may be able to force confession. I think y
ou should consult with Durwin about the matter.”

  “After the race, then.”

  “Why not before the race, which does not take place for a couple of days?”

  “I don’t like doing things in a hurry,” said Halliday, uneasily. “I want to question Mrs. Jarsell, and see if she knows anything.”

  “If she does, which is doubtful, she will assuredly refuse to speak. So far, I see no connection between her and the gang.”

  “You forget the perfume.”

  “H’m, yes,” said Laurance meditatively, “perhaps you are right. I want to have more evidence before I can give an opinion. But since Penn told you so much, aren’t you in danger from the gang yourself, Dan?”

  “I think not. Penn, for his own sake, will hold his tongue. At all events he has not moved so far.”

  “That doesn’t say he won’t move. I should examine that aeroplane very carefully before the race, if I were you.”

  “Oh, I’ll do that! I know the machine thoroughly by this time, and if it has been tampered with I shall soon spot the trickery. Well, now that I have brought you up to date with my information I shall leave you to work.”