21 Greatest Spy Thrillers in One Premium Edition (Mystery & Espionage Series) - E. Phillips Oppenheim

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      “One hundred thousand pounds!” murmured Louise.

      There was a brief, intense pause. Louise waited, warned by the expression in Bellamy’s face. Silence, she felt, was safest, and it was Bellamy who spoke.

      “Baron,” said he, “your visit and your proposal are both a little amazing. Forgive me if I speak alone with Mademoiselle for a moment.”

      “Most certainly,” the Baron agreed. “I go away and leave you—out of the room, if you will.”

      “It is not necessary,” Bellamy replied. “Louise!” The Baron withdrew to the window, and Bellamy led Louise into the furthest corner of the room.

      “What can it mean?” he whispered. “What do you suppose has happened?”

      “I cannot imagine. My brain is in a whirl.”

      “If they have not got the pocket-book,” Bellamy muttered, “it must have gone with Von Behrling to the Mortuary. If so, there is a chance. Louise, say nothing; leave this to me.”

      “As you will,” she assented. “I have no wish to interfere. I only hope that he does not ask me any questions.”

      They came once more into the middle of the room, and the Baron turned to meet them.

      “You must forgive Mademoiselle,” said Bellamy, “if she is a little upset this morning. She knows, of course, as I know and you know, that Von Behrling was playing a desperate game, and that he carried his life in his hands. Yet his death has been a shock—has been a shock, I may say, to both of us. From your point of view,” Bellamy went on, “it was doubtless deserved, but—”

      “What, in God’s name, is this that you say?” the Baron interrupted. “I do not understand at all! You speak of Von Behrling’s death! What do you mean?”

      Bellamy looked at him as one who listens to strange words.

      “Baron,” he said, “between us who know so much there is surely no need for you to play a part. Von Behrling knew that you were watching him. Your spies were shadowing him as they have done me. He knew that he was running terrible risks. He was not unprepared and he has paid. It is not for us—”

      “Now, in God’s name, tell me the truth!” Baron de Streuss interrupted once more. “What is it that you are saying about Von Behrling’s death?”

      Bellamy drew a little breath between his teeth. He leaned forward with his hands resting upon the table.

      “Do you mean to say that you do not know?”

      “Upon my soul, no!” replied the Baron.

      Bellamy threw open the newspaper before him.

      “Von Behrling was murdered last night, ten minutes after our interview.”

      XII. BARON DE STREUSS’ PROPOSAL

       Table of Contents

      The Baron adjusted his eyeglass with shaking fingers. His face now was waxen-white as he spread out the newspaper upon the table and read the paragraph word by word.

      TERRIBLE CRIME IN THE CITY

      Early this morning the body of a man was discovered in a narrow passageway leading from Crooked Friars to Royal Street, under circumstances which leave little doubt but that the man's death was owing to foul play. The deceased had apparently been stabbed, and had received several severe blows about the head. He was shabbily dressed but was well supplied with money, and he was wearing a gold watch and chain when he was found.

      LATER

      There appears to be no further doubt but that the man found in the entry leading from Crooked Friars had been the victim of a particularly murderous assault. Neither his clothes nor his linen bore any mark by means of which he could be identified. The body has been removed to the nearest mortuary, and an inquest will shortly be held.

      Streuss looked up from the newspaper and the reality of his surprise was apparent. He had all the appearance of a man shaken with emotion. While he looked at his two companions wonderingly, strange thoughts were forming in his mind.

      “Von Behrling dead!” he muttered. “But who—who could have done this?”

      “Until this moment,” Bellamy answered dryly, “it was not a matter concerning which we had any doubt. The only wonder to us was that it should have been done too late.”

      “You mean,” Streuss said slowly, “that he was murdered after he had completed his bargain with you?”

      “Naturally.”

      “I suppose,” the Baron continued, “there is no question but that it was done afterwards? You smile,” he exclaimed, “but what am I to think? Neither I nor my people had any hand in this deed. How about yours?”

      Bellamy shook his head.

      “We do not fight that way,” he replied. “I had bought Von Behrling. He was of no further interest to me. I did not care whether he lived or died.”

      “There is something very strange about this,” the Baron said. “If neither you nor I were responsible for his death, who was?”

      “That I can’t tell you. Perhaps later in the day we shall hear from the police. It is scarcely the sort of murder which would remain long undetected, especially as he was robbed of a large sum in bank-notes.”

      “Supplied by His Majesty’s Government, I presume?” Streuss remarked.

      “Precisely,” Bellamy assented, “and paid to him by me.”

      “At any rate,” Streuss said grimly, “we have now no more secrets from one another. I will ask you one last question. Where is that packet at the present moment?”

      Bellamy raised his eyebrows.

      “It is a question,” he declared, “which you could scarcely expect me to answer.”

      “I will put it another way,” Streuss continued. “Supposing you decide to accept my offer, how long will it be before the packet can be placed in my hands?”

      “If we decide to accept,” Bellamy answered, “there is no reason why there should be any delay at all.”

      Streuss was silent for several moments. His hands were thrust deep down into the pockets of his overcoat. With eyes fixed upon the tablecloth, he seemed to be thinking deeply, till presently he raised his head and looked steadily at Bellamy.

      “You are sure that Von Behrling has not fooled you? You are sure that you have that identical packet?”

      “I am absolutely certain that I have,” Bellamy answered, without flinching.

      “Then accept my price and have done with this matter,” Streuss begged. “I will sign a draft for you here, and I will undertake to bring you the money, or honor it wherever you say, within twenty-four hours.”

      “I cannot decide so quickly,” said Bellamy, shaking his head. “Mademoiselle Idiale and I must talk together first. I am not sure,” he added, “whether I might not find a higher bidder.”

      Streuss laughed mirthlessly.

      “There is little fear of that,” he said. “The papers are of no use except to us and to England. To England, I will admit that the foreknowledge of what is to come would be worth much, although the eventful result would be the same. It is for that reason that I am here, for that reason that I have made you this offer.”

      “Mademoiselle and I must discuss it,” Bellamy declared. “It is not a matter to be decided upon off-hand. Remember that it is not only the packet which you are offering to buy, but also my career and my honor.”

      “One

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