‘Business? I am always at your service, Mr. Lewin. And the business—it concerns ourselves?’
Carlo Lewin seated himself carefully in a chair, then glanced up at the man on the hearth-rug.
‘That’s for you to say.’ He helped himself to a cigarette from the box at his side and lit it. ‘Does it never strike you that you’re in a devilish difficult position, Tom?’
Tom Young looked puzzled.
‘If my friend will explain his dark meaning——’
‘You know what I’m driving at all right,’ said Lewin shrewdly. ‘I mean, a difficult position with Lord John.’
Young spread out his hands.
‘Our Honourable Friend makes use of my humble house to convey messages to those who help him,’ he replied slowly; ‘but my reward is adequate. Our Honourable Friend pays well in return for services rendered.’
Lewin nodded. ‘I am not quibbling about that. He can afford to be generous.’
‘Then the difficulty that you mention?’
Carlo Lewin did not answer the question directly. ‘I’ve been thinking about what you said upstairs last night. Strange business, eh?’
Tom Young inclined his head. ‘Very strange, Mr. Lewin. Very distressing.’
Lewin smoked his cigarette in quick, nervous puffs. ‘It took a devilish smart man to steal those documents. Naturally, Lord John was after them himself, and it’s almost certain he wasn’t very far away from the Marquise Hotel at the time.’
Mr. Young nodded, ‘With such dangerous evidence in the hands of the watchful police, our Honourable Friend would not spend his days in slumber.’
‘As you say,’ nodded Lewin. ‘Now, the person who stole those documents must have a motive.’
‘The skilful one who removed them,’ murmured Young, ‘is best acquainted with his own intentions.’
‘It isn’t difficult to guess them,’ said Lewin shortly. ‘He’s out to sell them to Lord John—at a price!’
Tom Young’s long, narrow eyes had been half-closed; but now he stared down at the solicitor, and his only response was an almost imperceptible shrug of his shoulders.
Mr. Lewin grunted. ‘You do put things neatly, Tom,’ he said in a tone of mild sarcasm.
Without a word Tom Young walked slowly across to one of the large windows. His hand went to the electric light switches on the wall. There was a gentle click, and the room was plunged into darkness. At the same moment the thick blind on the window ran smoothly upwards at his touch.
‘Will you stand here, Mr. Lewin?’ he asked politely, and the solicitor found himself looking out across the river. Tom Young pointed into the darkness, which was pierced by many lights.
‘You see that boat near at hand? That is the Elsa from Stockholm. She leaves for Hamburg on to-morrow’s tide. You see that moving light? It is a tug-boat—the Sunflower from Gravesend. And the light across the river?’ He handed Carlo Lewin a pair of powerful night-glasses. ‘You can see it? It is the night-watchman at the Lauriston Wharf. That light will go out in ten minutes when he goes downstairs for his supper. Three thousand pounds’ worth of spices was landed at the Lauriston this week. That light moving quickly on the other side—look! It is a police-launch returning to Wapping from patrol. Sergeant Carthew is in charge of her to-night.’
With a quick movement Tom Young drew down the blind and switched on the lights in the room.
‘You see, Mr. Lewin, nothing happens on the river that I do not know. Nothing! But our Honourable Friend has keener eyes than I.’
‘What do you mean,’ asked Lewin sharply.
‘I mean,’ replied Tom Young, ‘to steal those documents from Sir Richard Templeton’s suite at the Marquise Hotel was the enterprise of a fool!’
‘You don’t imply that Lord John knows who stole them?’
Again Young’s reply was a shrug.
Carlo Lewin took a step forward, and his thin, sallow face hardened. ‘You’re bluffing! If Lord John knows the thief, why the hell doesn’t he go for him, tooth and nail?’
Tom Young made no comment, and Lewin smiled triumphantly.
You see!’
‘Our Honourable Friend is a man of deep wisdom——’ Young began.
‘But somebody has him beaten this time. And one of his own crowd too!’ Lewin laughed harshly. ‘Oh, I agree with you; Lord John is a man of deep wisdom. But he’s been caught napping. And you know it damned well, Tom Young!’
‘I?’ Young caught his breath in a quick gasp. For the fraction of a second his jaw dropped, but he recovered and gave a wry smile. ‘You pay me too high a compliment. Our Honourable Friend has not taken me into his confidence.’
‘Of course not,’ agreed Lewin. ‘He isn’t such a damned fool. He’s trying to bluff the thief into giving up the documents. And you know that too, Tom Young.’
The other began to speak, but Lewin cut him short.
‘You may as well put all your cards on the table! After twenty years’ experience in police courts I’d be a poor sort of fool if I couldn’t tell when a man is lying to me. After twenty years you learn the symptoms, Tom! Last night I thought you had something up your sleeve. Now I know it.’
Tom Young drew back. ‘You suggest that I have deceived my friends——’
‘I don’t suggest. I can tell you flatly, Tom, I believe you know who stole those documents.’
Mr. Young stood rigid, his narrow eyes fixed on the solicitor’s face.
‘That’s why I’m here to-night,’ went on Lewin challengingly. ‘You’re playing your own game, Tom. But I’m taking a hand in it now. We’re going to talk this over, you and I.’
Young was finding it difficult to maintain his composure, and his clasped fingers were restless.
‘I don’t mind telling you,’ said Lewin, ‘you’ve gone up in my estimation since last night. You’re a damned sight cleverer man than I thought you, Tom. You’ve pulled off a brilliant stroke of business. I wish to heaven I’d thought: of it myself!’ He lay back in his chair, and thin laughter crackled on his lips. ‘Come on, out with it, Tom!’
‘Mysterious words—I do not understand,’ said Tom Young hoarsely.
Lewin sat up in his chair, and the snap of his bony fingers sounded sharply throughout the room.
‘You stole those documents yourself!’
The blood drained from Young’s yellow skin, leaving it a curious grey tint.
‘I’m sorry to upset your plans,’ said Lewin smoothly. ‘I don’t know what you intended to do. . . . What’s that? I see. You were going to wait.’ He shook his head. ‘You’re wrong. Lord John wants these documents pretty desperately, and desperate men are willing to pay. Leave that end of it to me, Tom. I can handle it better than you.’ He frowned as an idea struck him. ‘Look here, none of the others are in this, eh? That fellow Julius Brown—or Lister and Mrs. Prideaux?’
Tom Young moistened his lips. ‘Nobody knows,’ he said in a dull voice, ‘except my friend with the discerning eyes.’
Lewin’s mouth curled. ‘And if you try to double-cross me, Tom, you’ll wish you’d never lived. Have you got the documents here?’
Young shook his head.
‘But you know where to lay your hands on them?’ asked Mr. Lewin.
‘That might be difficult.’
‘What do you mean?’ demanded the solicitor. ‘You know where they are?’
‘It is possible I might be able to indicate their position——’ Tom Young faltered.
‘If what?’ cried Lewin.
‘If no trouble will come to me!’ Young, who had been holding himself together, suddenly burst out with an excited rush of words. ‘You’ll keep me out of this, Mr. Lewin? My name will not be mentioned?’ His breath was coming quickly. ‘I’m afraid—afraid——’
Carlo Lewin laughed harshly. ‘Scared? Well, I don’t exactly blame you. No, don’t worry—your name won’t come into this. Nor will mine. You wonder how I’m going to work it, eh?’ He read the question in the narrow eyes, and responded with a laugh. ‘Will you be surprised, Tom, if I tell you that I’ve got an idea who Lord John is!’