The Crimson Gardenia and Other Tales of Adventure Part 4

"This Felice," Van Dam ventured, groping blindly for some clue, "your cousin Emile is fond of her, I judge."

"d.a.m.nation! He would pa.s.s through fire for her. And she would sacrifice her soul for him." Alfred poured himself a drink with shaking hand. The gla.s.s rattled against the decanter; he spilled the wine over his waistcoat as he gulped it.

"So they planned to catch me napping, eh? But we shall see. Yes, yes! We shall see." After a moment, during which he pulled himself together, he continued: "You shall remain here with me. When he comes we shall afford him a surprise." He slid open a drawer in the big desk and took from it a revolver, at which Roly exclaimed:

"I say--whatever makes you think he'll come here?"

"Oh, he will come! There is no doubt of it. He has promised me that much. Those were his last words--"

"Er--why don't you clear out? You don't have to stay and see him."

But the old man's eyes were red and vindictive as he shook his head.

"You don't understand. So long as he lives we are none of us safe, not even you. Besides, he would return again; he hangs upon me like a leech.

I--I dream about him."

"Well, what are you going to do?"

"If I--if I should kill him, the law would say nothing. I could kill him very easily and nothing would be said. You understand?" Cousin Alfred's lips were watery; little drops of moisture gleamed upon his sallow face; he eyed the pistol with a shrinking fascination. "I--I--" He fell to trembling weakly, as his first desperation cooled.

Van Dam watched him curiously. He looked up, at length, to meet Roly's gaze. His own eyes were wavering; his face was distorted with mingled fear and eagerness. He stretched his neck, as if he already felt on it the fingers of his cousin Emile. When Van Dam did not offer to help him he whined: "He has always intended to even up the score; but I am an old man. My hand is unsteady. Perhaps you--It would be worth something to escape those dreams! I could afford to pay well, as you know. You are a strong man. You have no nerves; your hand is sure--" The old villain's expression was crafty; he was gnawed by a fierce desire that he was loath to put into words.

"You mean you'd like to have me make away with him?" queried Van Dam, as if in a dream.

"Yes, yes! The law would say nothing."

"How so? It's not so easy to kill a man and--"

"But the reward--two thousand dollars! You would get that. I will double it. Eh? Come now, is it a bargain?" The speaker was trembling, but when he received no answer he went on: "I will take the blame upon myself. I will say that I did it; and you will get the money--four thousand dollars. Let us say five thousand, eh? A tidy sum for a moment's work with no risk. We are alone in the house. No one but the Wolf knows you are here. Even I don't know--By the way, I--I haven't seen you yet."

"Under the circ.u.mstances, I think I'll keep my mask on," Van Dam answered. "Perhaps the less you know about me, the better."

"Then you agree?" queried the other, all ashake.

Roly declined with a gesture.

"Eh, G.o.d! Five thousand dollars! A fortune, indeed! Think of it! Heaven knows I am not a Cr[oe]sus, and yet--I might increase even that a little. What do you say? Six thousand, then, all cash?"

"This is the money you stole from Emile, I believe," said Van Dam. "You could afford even more--"

"Seven thousand five hundred!" chattered Alfred. "Not another cent, or I shall do it myself."

"Good! You do it!" Roly exclaimed; whereat the tempter writhed and shivered in an ague of fear. With a wail that came like a sob and with a final wrench of his miserly soul, he exclaimed:

"Wait, then! I will pay you ten thousand dollars if you kill him. The money is there. It will bankrupt me; but--G.o.d above! Ten thousand dollars! It is scarcely worth it--such a little job!"

"How do I know you'd make good?" inquired the young man. "You robbed him. You might rob me."

"I have promised! It is there--in the safe. The moment he is dead--"

"Bah!" Mr. Van Dam managed a mocking laugh, although his heart was pounding. "Your word is worth nothing to me."

Alfred made answer by slipping across the room and kneeling before the steel safe. He spun the k.n.o.b swiftly to right and to left, then gave a wrench, and the ma.s.sive door opened.

"Come here!"

Van Dam obeyed.

"Look!"

He saw legal doc.u.ments, deeds, mortgages, and blue envelopes, all neatly marked, then a cash-drawer crowded full of symmetrical packages of crisp, new ten-dollar bills, each with its bank band plainly labeled "$1000."

"Eh? Are you satisfied?" The owner was staring craftily up at him, careful to keep his body between Van Dam and the treasure.

"Jove!" Roly exclaimed in astonishment. "You'll be robbed some night."

"Is it a bargain?"

"I'm no business man." The masker hesitated with an air of extreme suspicion. "Will you pay in advance?"

At this, Cousin Alfred uttered a bleat of dismay, but Roly was firm.

"I'm not sure you'd open the safe again, don't you see? Besides, it would take time, and--I'd prefer not to wait; really I would, for I'm always a bit nervous after a job of this kind."

"Listen, then," exclaimed the old man. "I will close the safe, but I will leave the combination off. See! We must each run some risk in this matter, I suppose; but--I trust you. Once it is over, there will be no delay. A moment and you can be away with ten thousand dollars in your pocket--and with me to do the explaining."

Why he had allowed the affair to run to so extraordinary a length Van Dam hardly knew, except that he wished to gain time. He had no idea that the mysterious Emile would really come to the house, for Madelon had as much as told him that a far different reason lay behind the young man's presence in the city.

What did concern Roly, however, the more he considered it, was the possible consequence if the two girls returned. Thus far he had been able to meet each new surprise, each fresh situation, with a resource that amazed himself, but if they came face to face with him and Alfred, his own masquerade would end at once and disastrous explanations would certainly follow. Nevertheless, he could not run away and leave them in an awkward position. As he looked back over the fantastic occurrences of the past hour or more it amused and amazed him to realize how nicely he had fitted into the puzzle--and puzzle it surely was; for the whole sequence of events that had followed the purchase of the white gardenia that lay above his heart was now more bewildering than ever.

That there was something more than mere roguery afoot he had ample proof. He felt himself groping along the edge of something vague and black and sinister. But what it was, what were the issues, or who were the people involved, he had not the slightest conception. Of one thing only was he sure, Madelon had no place in this elaborate web and woof of crime. She had impressed him more deeply even than he had realized, and his main anxiety now, outside of a desire to protect her from the venom of this poisonous old man, was to see her face, to lift with his own fingers the mask that had so tantalized him.

The owner of the house was busily arranging the plans for Emile's destruction when the doorbell rang. He clutched his guest nervously by the arm and thrust the revolver into his hand, whispering:

"It is he! The scoundrel has arrived! Quickly now--behind the door!"

But Roly stepped to a front window and, cautiously drawing the curtain aside, peered out. He saw what he had feared--the figure of a pet.i.te Norman maid, and beside it that of a masked woman in a long, dark robe.

"Well, now! Who can it be?" he heard Alfred whisper, and discovered the senile villain peering past his shoulder.

"It is Madelon and Felice," Roly explained.

"_They!_ Here? Wait! I will give them a cursing to remember." But before the speaker could move he found his arms pinioned behind him and his own weapon pointed at his head. He uttered a squeak of amazement and terror.

"_Mon Dieu!_ What is this?"

"Shut up!" Roly dragged the old man from the window, stripped a thick curtain cord from its hook, and knotted his wrists together.

Alfred offered no resistance; a horrible fear had him by the throat; he hung like a sack in the younger man's grasp. His eyes alone retained their activity. These followed Van Dam in a horrified stare; they seemed about to emerge from their sockets.

Roly deposited his limp captive in a chair and, stepping to the window, tapped sharply. When Madelon looked up he signaled her to wait. The hall portieres furnished another cord for Cousin Alfred's ankles, and a handkerchief served as a gag. As this was being adjusted, however, the captive quavered, hoa.r.s.ely: