CHAPTER VAT DAYBREAKChester Fay had the saving grace of lightning analysis. He had received the surprise of his life without showing it. The sweep of his plaid cap, as he bowed to Saidee Isaacs and straightened himself with lithe swiftness, had allowed him time to piece together a number of things.He stared at her with a quizzical smile that illumined his keen features and disarmed suspicion. Sir Richard, old in the ways of the world, had managed the meeting. The presence of Dutch Gus was as yet to be explained. The events of the night, however, were closely woven together. Fay did not believe that chance or coincidence played the slightest part in the matter.The long arm of luck had not caused him to enter the one house in all of London where Saidee Isaacs dwelt. Nor did the long arm of coincidence bring Dutch Gus to that part of Richmond Hill. The Yard, the girl, the cipher and the presence of the German crook were all one web, woven in a pattern.“Well?â€� said Saidee Isaacs. “Well, Chester, when did you get out?â€�Fay fingered his cap and stared directly into the girl’s brown eyes. They were soft but he had seen them flash livid fire on more than one occasion.“When did I get out?â€� he repeated. “When did I? You ought to know!â€�Saidee Isaacs tapped the thick rug with her silver-buckled slipper. She glanced down her dark lashes and uncocked the revolver with a practiced motion.“Why should I know?â€� she asked, glancing up.“I think you had a hand in it!â€�“You do?â€�“Yes.â€�Saidee Isaacs swished her hair back from her forehead as she removed the lacy night cap and tossed it upon a divan. “Come sit down,â€� she said, “and tell me about it. Tell me, Chester, why you think I had anything to do with getting you sprung.â€�“‘Sprung’ is good,â€� said Fay, tossing his cap after the dainty one.“But,â€� he added, “I don’t like to think that you let me rot in that place for five years—without writing a line.â€�“I had a reason!â€�“Well, it’ll have to be a good one. We quit, Saidee, if it isn’t! What does all this mean?â€� Fay swept his hands about the room. He stepped swiftly toward the portières and parted them. He darted a quick glance around a well-cushioned and thick-rugged parlor. “Who’s upstairs?â€� he asked, turning and coming back to her.“Jealous?â€� She was sitting on the divan as she asked this question.He flamed, with the red blood mounting his white cheeks and burning his temples.“Who’s upstairs?â€� he asked in deadly earnestness.“Nobody!â€�“Nobody at all?â€�“I’m all alone.â€�“The servants?â€� Fay glanced toward the rear of the room where a half-door to a butler’s pantry showed.“They are having a night off. Besides,â€� she added swiftly, “I was expecting you. I didn’t think you’d bungle things as you did. I heard you on the porch. You stepped on the electric rug, Chester. It didn’t remind me of old times, at all.â€�Fay’s brain worked swiftly. It was evident that Saidee did not know that Dutch Gus had attempted to pay her a visit. He closed his lips, sat down on the divan at a discreet distance, and studied her from the corner of his left eye. She had not aged since last he had known her. The rings on her fingers were more splendid than he had ever seen her wear. The shadow of a frown crossed his features as he noted a necklace about her throat.She tapped the rug, with a cold smile bringing down the corners of her mouth. She turned then and stared at him. His eyes stared back at her. Neither moved. Fay tried to read what was transpiring in her mind. He caught the scent of heliotrope from her negligee. It softened him with old memory. He leaned closer, hardly daring to breathe.“Chester,â€� she said finally, “you’re the biggest fool I ever knew. You’re always making mistakes. That finger-print! That slip in Paris, ten years ago. And now, you stepping on a rug and blundering about.Why didn’t you come straight to me—not like a thief in the night?â€�“I came the way I was sent!â€�She arched her brows. “The Yard don’t send their agents that way,â€� she said.“So!â€� said Fay, “you know! You got me out so I’d be a stool-pigeon for Sir Richard. That’s it—is it?â€�“A stool, Chester? Think what you’re saying. Think of the old, old days when we were going dead wrong. Why, this is a different thing!â€�“What do you mean, Saidee?â€�She smiled inscrutably, which was her ancient charm to him. Her eyes glowed as she reached out an overly jeweled hand. “All bets in the crook game are off,â€� she said with American directness. “They’re off for a time, Chester. I got you out of Dartmoor for bigger game.â€�Fay had never fully understood Saidee Isaacs. The riddle-woman was strong in her. She was two natures as wide apart as the poles. She could hate stronger and longer than anybody he had ever known. Her love, which had never been given to any man, would mean all in all.“You,â€� he said bitterly, “were long in getting to this big game. It’s been five years, plus one day, since you told me to have courage, in that court room. That was just after the beak pronounced the limit.â€�“Kindly refrain from slang, Chester.â€�“Oh, you!â€� he snapped, with his eyes flashing. “You—you lady! Since when? I suppose you’veforgotten the Maiden Lane affair or the pint of uncut stones we switched on the sucker who came up from the Cape. I—â€�Saidee Isaacs had risen and stood facing him. “Another word,â€� she said, “and it’s all off between us! I had you sprung, to use your old slang. I used my influence with Sir Richard. I told him that you were the only living man who could open that box in Holland, without leaving a trace. He mentioned other box-men—Sheeney Mike and Foley the Goat and little Eddie Richards. They’re all doing bits in England. You were my choice, and he sent for you!â€�“How about the Hatton Gardens affair influencing him?â€�“It did, in a way,â€� admitted the girl as she narrowed her eyes. “But the main thing was that he had sent—somebody who failed. That somebody came back and recommended you. It’s a hard safe to crack. It’s well watched. Besides, Sir Richard wanted it done without trace.â€�Fay felt more at ease as he motioned toward the divan with his left hand. “You seem to know a lot about this, Saidee. Were you the King’s Courier? Do I get a little silver greyhound from you?â€�She hesitated and then sat down. Her hands folded in her lap. The jewels glittered and flashed the white fire from the electric globes. Her eyes widened. An elusive smile lurked in their corners as she turned to him.“Of course not!â€� she said archly. “Do you think I could open a big safe like you can? You foolish boy!â€�“I’ve phoned Sir Richard my house might be burglarized and report that the thief stole a silver greyhound and some clothes. That’s only an alibi for Scotland Yard in case of international complications. You know they might happen.â€�Fay moistened his lips and leaned back against the cushions. Saidee had offered a naïve explanation which hardly rang true. She had not explained how clothes and a King’s messenger happened to be in a rather smart Richmond Hill villa.“Oh, you’re too deep for me,â€� he said frankly. “I’ll take your word, Saidee. I always have. Come across with the badge and the diagram of the embassy. Sir Richard said I would get them here at Number 4.â€�“What time is it?â€�“Almost daybreak,â€� he said, glancing from the dial of his watch to the windows. “I haven’t had a bit of sleep since the screw woke me up this—yesterday morning, and told me to get my clothes on. Think how I felt!â€�“The screw?â€�“Yes! The damn blear-eyed, sneaking cockney who counted me so often I thought he’d wear my buttons off. Five counts a day in Dartmoor, Saidee.â€�“Do you think it pays?â€�“You’re no one to ask me that!â€� Fay shot the statement through clean, white teeth, then studied its effect on the girl at his side.She tapped the point of her slipper upon the rug, rose, glanced toward the half-door to the butler’s pantry, and said:“I’ve squared it, Chester. Come, and I’ll make some tea and a little lunch. I want to show you how quickly one can climb up when they quit fighting, fighting the police of the world.â€�Fay walked by the girl’s side, then fell one step behind her as she led the way through a curtain and down a passage to a kitchen which was illuminated by a single wall cluster.He stood erect on the well-scoured tiling and glanced about with amazement. There was everything in the culinary art within the four white walls. A wine box showed with its drip pan. A row of many shaped glasses, arranged in half-dozens, stretched along two shelves. A cocktail-shaker hung on a hook. A recess above the glasses was filled with dark bottles whose seals spoke of price and age.Bins, drawers, an electric-stove, half-barrels, china with a tiny gold crest, knives and silverware, were at the further end of the kitchen. A door was set in the wall, through which the servants passed. Fay eyed this door as he asked:“Who paid for all this?â€�“Jealous?â€� asked the girl, as she placed a pot on the stove and snapped on a switch.“Who paid for it?â€� he repeated hotly.Saidee Isaacs wheeled and came toward him. Her eyes were no longer the inscrutable pools of dark brown. They flashed and drove him back toward the wall.“Who paid for it? I did!â€� she exclaimed. “How do you think I got it? By wiles or guiles or knavery?By lowering myself to a moll-buzzer or a store hister? No, and you know it! I earned it, Chester Fay!â€�“In five years?â€�“Yes—in less! In four years! I want you to take back what you said.â€�“I didn’t say anything, Saidee. I didn’t—â€�“Well, you were going to!â€�Fay smiled and only increased her anger. “You thought something,â€� she said staunchly. “You have no right to ask me who paid for this house or the things in it.â€�“I take it back,â€� said Fay, glancing toward the electric-stove. “The water’s boiling, Saidee,â€� he added. “Let’s start all over again. I’m beginning to like this little kitchen.â€�Saidee Isaacs shaded her eyes with her lashes and switched off the current. A Japanese pot came out of a closet. Two cups followed it. Tea was made as Fay watched her moving swiftly over a sideboard upon which she sliced tongue, bread and a heaping mound of old English fruit cake.“Bring up a chair!â€� she commanded. “Bring two!â€�He moved the chairs over the tiling and offered her one. She drew it to her side, turned and stared at his hair. “I noticed that first,â€� she said, softening her voice slightly. “It was brown when you went in.â€�“It was! It would have been white instead of gray if you hadn’t seen Sir Richard. Ten years of that hell! Look at my nails.â€�“I noticed them,â€� she said, meeting his eyes. “Do you think there is anything in crime?â€�“Not lately,â€� Fay blurted as he seated himself. “Pass the tea, please.â€�She poured the cup full and poised the Japanese pot. “You’re going to square it now?â€� she asked.“I may!â€�“I want you to promise. I want you to go to Holland and open that strong-box. I don’t want you to fail me. Remember it’s me! Sir Richard and the rest don’t count. You’re doing it for me, because I recommended—â€�“Ah,â€� said Fay, “then it was you?â€�Saidee Isaacs bit her lower lip. “I had a hand in it,â€� she said. “But you mustn’t think I went to Holland or anything like that. The party who went there—failed. I don’t fail as a rule!â€�Fay glanced keenly at her. She returned the stare bravely. Her breast lifted and fell as she breathed with emotion. “I did what I could for the Yard,â€� she added quickly. “I have the diagram of the embassy. I have the little silver greyhound, which is to be your passport.â€�“Is it effective?â€�“Tremendously so! Why, everybody just makes way for you when you wear it. It’s a magic talisman these days, Chester.â€�Fay reached for the cake and poised a slice over his tea cup. He studied the pattern on the little silver spoon. It was monogrammed “S. I.â€� The cup was also marked with her initials.“I like this place,â€� he said with naïveté. “I was worried all the time that you would go clear down andout. And here you’re living like a princess of the blood. How do you do it?â€�Saidee Isaacs pushed back the chair and rose. She glanced down at Fay with an intent expression. Her long, dark lashes gave a silken look to her eyes.“I’ll get the diagram,â€� she offered, moving toward the door which led to the front of the house. “Don’t ask so many questions! Take what you get!â€�“One fine little girl,â€� he thought as he watched her vanishing form. “But,â€� he added, munching on the cake with his chin lowered, “she’s dangerous, and I know it. Wonder what she did to earn all this?â€�Saidee reappeared, closed the door and laid an envelope upon the sideboard. She sat down after pouring out more tea. She tapped the envelope with her fingers, hastily tore across one end and dumped out a folded piece of white paper and an object done up in thin yellow tissue.“This is the silver greyhound,â€� she said, “which only King’s Couriers are supposed to wear. You prowled this house tonight and opened my wall safe. You could do that blindfolded. I paid five pounds for it, and there’s only three hundred possible combinations.â€�Fay showed professional concern as he took the silver greyhound from the girl’s fingers and held it out appraisingly.He pinned it to the right lapel of his tweed coat and leaned back. “Now the map,â€� he said. “The little diagram the gay-cat got in Holland.â€�“I told you to be careful with the slang, Chester. ‘Gay-cat’ is very bad form. ‘Courier’ would be better.â€�“Let me see it!â€�Saidee opened the paper and laid it down between the two tea cups. It was a well-done diagram of the main floor of a splendid house. The streets were named. The locality of the safe was shown in red ink. Beneath the diagram was a notation which Fay saw was in Saidee’s handwriting—fine and precise.“Read it,â€� he asked, straining his eyes.“Oh, it goes on to say that a very wise little safecracker will find an American strong-box with two dials and a dial-keister. The day door is secured by a flat lock which probably can be picked. The safe stands on a concrete and tile flooring. There is a space overhead hardly big enough for a man to secrete himself. The sides of the safe are in plain view of two streets.â€�“Go on,â€� said Fay as Saidee Isaacs glanced up. “That’s your handwriting. I still think you went to Holland.â€�“Be careful! Don’t tell all that you think, Chester. You’ll spoil our midnight party.â€�“It’s almost a daylight one!â€�She glanced at a pantry window. “Gray dawn,â€� she said musingly. “The cold, gray dawn, Chester.â€�“And time I’m going, I suppose,â€� he said, reaching and taking the diagram. He held it before him and ran his eyes to left and right over the paper. His glance was the keen darting one of a professional.“This stairway?â€� he asked, pointing toward a series of shaded lines. “Where does that lead?â€�“Down to a basement.â€�“What’s in it?â€�“Rooms, where some of the embassy’s staff spend the day. There’s no one there at night. The guards are outside. One watchman stays by the safe. He usually sleeps from three to four-thirty. He gets coffee, then, from a woman who brings it to him.â€�Fay glanced at her without betraying his mood.“This packet Sir Richard told me about?â€� he asked. “This cipher’s key, done up in paper with string around it and a name across one corner, is where, Saidee?â€�“On a top shelf in the keister. You’ll have to go through the day-door, the outer door and the keister door before you reach it.â€�Fay arched his brows and leaned over toward her. “What’s upstairs?â€� he inquired.“More rooms and offices. Sometimes the embassy’s staff work all night in the front chambers. You can usually tell by a light in the front. If there’s no light then the staff has completed its work and gone home.â€�“Very precise, Saidee. You’re clearing up things, nicely. Also, you’ve been there for the Yard. Nothing on this earth could make me believe that you haven’t.â€�“Finish your tea,â€� she said, “and come into the other room.â€�Fay pocketed the diagram and fingered the little silver greyhound as he rose and followed Saidee Isaacs through the doorway.She stood near the divan but did not motion for himto sit down. Her eyes fastened upon his tweed cap close by her own. She gathered her lips into a sympathetic pucker as she asked:“Have you any money?â€�Fay tapped his trousers pocket. “Plenty,â€� he said lightly. “I’ve money and more money coming. The clinking quid, Saidee! Remember how we went after it, once?â€�“We took the wrong road, Chester.â€� She turned and stared at him. Her eyes opened and studied his silver-gray hair. His keen, white features and rounded chin brought her over the years and then back again.“You promise me,â€� she asked, “that you will go straight? That you will get a sleep at some respectable hotel and meet whom you are to meet tonight? That you will remember me on your trip to Holland?â€�Fay reached and picked up his cap. He remembered that his overcoat was beneath the hedge outside the window. There was one other matter. He moved close to her side and touched the sleeve of her bathrobe.“Saidee,â€� he inquired in a deadly level voice, “when did you see Dutch Gus?â€�He had expected a surprise. Her arm grew rigid. Her head turned and flashed the jewels of the necklace till they dazzled his eyes. The olive purity of her face changed to a flushing rage. She swished around, jerked her arm from him and shot a shimmer of fire from beneath her dark lashes.“Dutch Gus! That man? He followed me to Holland! Now you know! He queered my mission for the Yard!â€�“Queered it?â€�Saidee Isaacs paced the floor of the room. Her eyes shone tawny and fire-laden as she came up to Fay and grasped his shoulder.“Promise me you willgethim!â€�“Sure! Where is he?â€�“In London, somewhere. He’s in with a mob of Germans and Austrians who are after the dye cipher. They found out where I was going—why I was going to Holland. They didn’t have the nerve to attempt the safe, Chester. They didn’t! They waited until I tried—and failed. They stole my luggage coming back. They kidnapped my French maid. They did everything. They maydomore!â€� Saidee Isaacs reached swiftly and snatched up the revolver.“Take this, Chester! You may need it!â€�“Go easy,â€� said Fay as he felt the revolver slipping into his pocket. “Go easy, Saidee. You better keep it here. Dutch Gus was trying to prowl the house when I got through the hedge. It was him on the electric door-mat. I didn’t—â€�“Are you sure?â€� Her voice lowered and gained in timbre. “Are you sure, Chester?â€�“I saw him trying to pick the front-door lock. He heard me coming or got a signal. He dashed for the back of the house and the garage. He went through the greenhouse, by the sound he made. Always clumsy!â€�“That was him!â€� She reached and lifted the revolver. She cocked it and lowered her right hand. “I’ll keep it,â€� she said determinedly. “You switchout the light and leave now. If he comes, I’ll empty all five cartridges into him. I’d do it gladly!â€�Fay started toward the switch on the wall. He glanced at the long windows. One was up where he had left a possible escape. The light of a London morning showed through this opening.He snapped off the switch. The two stood in the center of the room as he stepped back to her side. He felt her presence in deep breathing. A softness came over him. It was five years since he had talked to a woman.“Saidee,â€� he said. “Dutch Gus won’t bother you now. It’s daybreak. You know him! He never works in the light!â€�“But tonight I may—â€�“Tonight I leave for Holland—or elsewhere. What do you say we chuck the job for the Yard and take up the old trail? There’s Havre and the other ports where American gold flows. There’s Monte Carlo, still doing business. The world is torn wide open. We can clean up a million.â€�“And get caught!â€�“No! I’ve the greyhound and my old nerve. We can go toward the north and west and double back by way of Stavanger, Norway. We can work the boats. The commercial war is on! What will the cipher do for us? The Yard will thank me if I get it, and perhaps remit that five years I owe to Dartmoor. That’s all I’ve got to look forward to.â€�“Isn’t it enough, Chester?â€�“No!â€�“But then you’ll be clean! You can come to me with open hands, and I’ll be here. Crime has had its day!â€�Fay moved toward the window. “Good-by,â€� he said, lifting up the sash and peering out. “Good-by, Saidee,â€� he added as he glanced back in the half-gloom.“Where are you going?â€�“Somewhere to think it over.â€�She glided over the rug and reached for his arm. Her face pressed close to his. He felt her hot breath. Her eyes burned a message into his own.“You’re going to square it?â€� she whispered tensely.“I’ll think it over.â€�“You’re going to square it?â€� she repeated as her fingers clutched tighter about his sleeve.“Yes,â€� he said hesitatingly.“Promise me, Chester.â€�“I promise.â€�“And you’ll meet those people at London Bridge Station tonight?â€�“MacKeenon?â€�“Yes.â€�“I’ll keep the meet.â€�“You have your cap and the diagram and the greyhound—the little silver insignia that keeps a man from harm?â€�“I have them, Saidee!â€�“Then go, quickly!â€� she said, leaning down. “Go and get the cipher-key. It means so much to you—and the world!â€�“Adieu!â€� he breathed as he thrust his legs throughthe window’s opening and touched the ground with his toes.“Au revoir, pal,â€� she flashed with her old fire. “Go now and get ready for the game! Good-by, Chester Fay! Good-by!â€�He heard the sash softly close as he turned away from the house.
Chester Fay had the saving grace of lightning analysis. He had received the surprise of his life without showing it. The sweep of his plaid cap, as he bowed to Saidee Isaacs and straightened himself with lithe swiftness, had allowed him time to piece together a number of things.
He stared at her with a quizzical smile that illumined his keen features and disarmed suspicion. Sir Richard, old in the ways of the world, had managed the meeting. The presence of Dutch Gus was as yet to be explained. The events of the night, however, were closely woven together. Fay did not believe that chance or coincidence played the slightest part in the matter.
The long arm of luck had not caused him to enter the one house in all of London where Saidee Isaacs dwelt. Nor did the long arm of coincidence bring Dutch Gus to that part of Richmond Hill. The Yard, the girl, the cipher and the presence of the German crook were all one web, woven in a pattern.
“Well?� said Saidee Isaacs. “Well, Chester, when did you get out?�
Fay fingered his cap and stared directly into the girl’s brown eyes. They were soft but he had seen them flash livid fire on more than one occasion.
“When did I get out?� he repeated. “When did I? You ought to know!�
Saidee Isaacs tapped the thick rug with her silver-buckled slipper. She glanced down her dark lashes and uncocked the revolver with a practiced motion.
“Why should I know?� she asked, glancing up.
“I think you had a hand in it!�
“You do?�
“Yes.�
Saidee Isaacs swished her hair back from her forehead as she removed the lacy night cap and tossed it upon a divan. “Come sit down,� she said, “and tell me about it. Tell me, Chester, why you think I had anything to do with getting you sprung.�
“‘Sprung’ is good,� said Fay, tossing his cap after the dainty one.
“But,â€� he added, “I don’t like to think that you let me rot in that place for five years—without writing a line.â€�
“I had a reason!�
“Well, it’ll have to be a good one. We quit, Saidee, if it isn’t! What does all this mean?� Fay swept his hands about the room. He stepped swiftly toward the portières and parted them. He darted a quick glance around a well-cushioned and thick-rugged parlor. “Who’s upstairs?� he asked, turning and coming back to her.
“Jealous?� She was sitting on the divan as she asked this question.
He flamed, with the red blood mounting his white cheeks and burning his temples.
“Who’s upstairs?� he asked in deadly earnestness.
“Nobody!�
“Nobody at all?�
“I’m all alone.�
“The servants?� Fay glanced toward the rear of the room where a half-door to a butler’s pantry showed.
“They are having a night off. Besides,� she added swiftly, “I was expecting you. I didn’t think you’d bungle things as you did. I heard you on the porch. You stepped on the electric rug, Chester. It didn’t remind me of old times, at all.�
Fay’s brain worked swiftly. It was evident that Saidee did not know that Dutch Gus had attempted to pay her a visit. He closed his lips, sat down on the divan at a discreet distance, and studied her from the corner of his left eye. She had not aged since last he had known her. The rings on her fingers were more splendid than he had ever seen her wear. The shadow of a frown crossed his features as he noted a necklace about her throat.
She tapped the rug, with a cold smile bringing down the corners of her mouth. She turned then and stared at him. His eyes stared back at her. Neither moved. Fay tried to read what was transpiring in her mind. He caught the scent of heliotrope from her negligee. It softened him with old memory. He leaned closer, hardly daring to breathe.
“Chester,â€� she said finally, “you’re the biggest fool I ever knew. You’re always making mistakes. That finger-print! That slip in Paris, ten years ago. And now, you stepping on a rug and blundering about.Why didn’t you come straight to me—not like a thief in the night?â€�
“I came the way I was sent!�
She arched her brows. “The Yard don’t send their agents that way,� she said.
“So!â€� said Fay, “you know! You got me out so I’d be a stool-pigeon for Sir Richard. That’s it—is it?â€�
“A stool, Chester? Think what you’re saying. Think of the old, old days when we were going dead wrong. Why, this is a different thing!�
“What do you mean, Saidee?�
She smiled inscrutably, which was her ancient charm to him. Her eyes glowed as she reached out an overly jeweled hand. “All bets in the crook game are off,� she said with American directness. “They’re off for a time, Chester. I got you out of Dartmoor for bigger game.�
Fay had never fully understood Saidee Isaacs. The riddle-woman was strong in her. She was two natures as wide apart as the poles. She could hate stronger and longer than anybody he had ever known. Her love, which had never been given to any man, would mean all in all.
“You,� he said bitterly, “were long in getting to this big game. It’s been five years, plus one day, since you told me to have courage, in that court room. That was just after the beak pronounced the limit.�
“Kindly refrain from slang, Chester.�
“Oh, you!â€� he snapped, with his eyes flashing. “You—you lady! Since when? I suppose you’veforgotten the Maiden Lane affair or the pint of uncut stones we switched on the sucker who came up from the Cape. I—â€�
Saidee Isaacs had risen and stood facing him. “Another word,â€� she said, “and it’s all off between us! I had you sprung, to use your old slang. I used my influence with Sir Richard. I told him that you were the only living man who could open that box in Holland, without leaving a trace. He mentioned other box-men—Sheeney Mike and Foley the Goat and little Eddie Richards. They’re all doing bits in England. You were my choice, and he sent for you!â€�
“How about the Hatton Gardens affair influencing him?�
“It did, in a way,â€� admitted the girl as she narrowed her eyes. “But the main thing was that he had sent—somebody who failed. That somebody came back and recommended you. It’s a hard safe to crack. It’s well watched. Besides, Sir Richard wanted it done without trace.â€�
Fay felt more at ease as he motioned toward the divan with his left hand. “You seem to know a lot about this, Saidee. Were you the King’s Courier? Do I get a little silver greyhound from you?�
She hesitated and then sat down. Her hands folded in her lap. The jewels glittered and flashed the white fire from the electric globes. Her eyes widened. An elusive smile lurked in their corners as she turned to him.
“Of course not!� she said archly. “Do you think I could open a big safe like you can? You foolish boy!�
“I’ve phoned Sir Richard my house might be burglarized and report that the thief stole a silver greyhound and some clothes. That’s only an alibi for Scotland Yard in case of international complications. You know they might happen.�
Fay moistened his lips and leaned back against the cushions. Saidee had offered a naïve explanation which hardly rang true. She had not explained how clothes and a King’s messenger happened to be in a rather smart Richmond Hill villa.
“Oh, you’re too deep for me,� he said frankly. “I’ll take your word, Saidee. I always have. Come across with the badge and the diagram of the embassy. Sir Richard said I would get them here at Number 4.�
“What time is it?�
“Almost daybreak,â€� he said, glancing from the dial of his watch to the windows. “I haven’t had a bit of sleep since the screw woke me up this—yesterday morning, and told me to get my clothes on. Think how I felt!â€�
“The screw?�
“Yes! The damn blear-eyed, sneaking cockney who counted me so often I thought he’d wear my buttons off. Five counts a day in Dartmoor, Saidee.�
“Do you think it pays?�
“You’re no one to ask me that!� Fay shot the statement through clean, white teeth, then studied its effect on the girl at his side.
She tapped the point of her slipper upon the rug, rose, glanced toward the half-door to the butler’s pantry, and said:
“I’ve squared it, Chester. Come, and I’ll make some tea and a little lunch. I want to show you how quickly one can climb up when they quit fighting, fighting the police of the world.�
Fay walked by the girl’s side, then fell one step behind her as she led the way through a curtain and down a passage to a kitchen which was illuminated by a single wall cluster.
He stood erect on the well-scoured tiling and glanced about with amazement. There was everything in the culinary art within the four white walls. A wine box showed with its drip pan. A row of many shaped glasses, arranged in half-dozens, stretched along two shelves. A cocktail-shaker hung on a hook. A recess above the glasses was filled with dark bottles whose seals spoke of price and age.
Bins, drawers, an electric-stove, half-barrels, china with a tiny gold crest, knives and silverware, were at the further end of the kitchen. A door was set in the wall, through which the servants passed. Fay eyed this door as he asked:
“Who paid for all this?�
“Jealous?� asked the girl, as she placed a pot on the stove and snapped on a switch.
“Who paid for it?� he repeated hotly.
Saidee Isaacs wheeled and came toward him. Her eyes were no longer the inscrutable pools of dark brown. They flashed and drove him back toward the wall.
“Who paid for it? I did!� she exclaimed. “How do you think I got it? By wiles or guiles or knavery?By lowering myself to a moll-buzzer or a store hister? No, and you know it! I earned it, Chester Fay!�
“In five years?�
“Yes—in less! In four years! I want you to take back what you said.â€�
“I didn’t say anything, Saidee. I didn’t—â€�
“Well, you were going to!�
Fay smiled and only increased her anger. “You thought something,� she said staunchly. “You have no right to ask me who paid for this house or the things in it.�
“I take it back,� said Fay, glancing toward the electric-stove. “The water’s boiling, Saidee,� he added. “Let’s start all over again. I’m beginning to like this little kitchen.�
Saidee Isaacs shaded her eyes with her lashes and switched off the current. A Japanese pot came out of a closet. Two cups followed it. Tea was made as Fay watched her moving swiftly over a sideboard upon which she sliced tongue, bread and a heaping mound of old English fruit cake.
“Bring up a chair!� she commanded. “Bring two!�
He moved the chairs over the tiling and offered her one. She drew it to her side, turned and stared at his hair. “I noticed that first,� she said, softening her voice slightly. “It was brown when you went in.�
“It was! It would have been white instead of gray if you hadn’t seen Sir Richard. Ten years of that hell! Look at my nails.�
“I noticed them,� she said, meeting his eyes. “Do you think there is anything in crime?�
“Not lately,� Fay blurted as he seated himself. “Pass the tea, please.�
She poured the cup full and poised the Japanese pot. “You’re going to square it now?� she asked.
“I may!�
“I want you to promise. I want you to go to Holland and open that strong-box. I don’t want you to fail me. Remember it’s me! Sir Richard and the rest don’t count. You’re doing it for me, because I recommended—â€�
“Ah,� said Fay, “then it was you?�
Saidee Isaacs bit her lower lip. “I had a hand in it,â€� she said. “But you mustn’t think I went to Holland or anything like that. The party who went there—failed. I don’t fail as a rule!â€�
Fay glanced keenly at her. She returned the stare bravely. Her breast lifted and fell as she breathed with emotion. “I did what I could for the Yard,� she added quickly. “I have the diagram of the embassy. I have the little silver greyhound, which is to be your passport.�
“Is it effective?�
“Tremendously so! Why, everybody just makes way for you when you wear it. It’s a magic talisman these days, Chester.�
Fay reached for the cake and poised a slice over his tea cup. He studied the pattern on the little silver spoon. It was monogrammed “S. I.� The cup was also marked with her initials.
“I like this place,� he said with naïveté. “I was worried all the time that you would go clear down andout. And here you’re living like a princess of the blood. How do you do it?�
Saidee Isaacs pushed back the chair and rose. She glanced down at Fay with an intent expression. Her long, dark lashes gave a silken look to her eyes.
“I’ll get the diagram,� she offered, moving toward the door which led to the front of the house. “Don’t ask so many questions! Take what you get!�
“One fine little girl,� he thought as he watched her vanishing form. “But,� he added, munching on the cake with his chin lowered, “she’s dangerous, and I know it. Wonder what she did to earn all this?�
Saidee reappeared, closed the door and laid an envelope upon the sideboard. She sat down after pouring out more tea. She tapped the envelope with her fingers, hastily tore across one end and dumped out a folded piece of white paper and an object done up in thin yellow tissue.
“This is the silver greyhound,� she said, “which only King’s Couriers are supposed to wear. You prowled this house tonight and opened my wall safe. You could do that blindfolded. I paid five pounds for it, and there’s only three hundred possible combinations.�
Fay showed professional concern as he took the silver greyhound from the girl’s fingers and held it out appraisingly.
He pinned it to the right lapel of his tweed coat and leaned back. “Now the map,� he said. “The little diagram the gay-cat got in Holland.�
“I told you to be careful with the slang, Chester. ‘Gay-cat’ is very bad form. ‘Courier’ would be better.�
“Let me see it!�
Saidee opened the paper and laid it down between the two tea cups. It was a well-done diagram of the main floor of a splendid house. The streets were named. The locality of the safe was shown in red ink. Beneath the diagram was a notation which Fay saw was in Saidee’s handwriting—fine and precise.
“Read it,� he asked, straining his eyes.
“Oh, it goes on to say that a very wise little safecracker will find an American strong-box with two dials and a dial-keister. The day door is secured by a flat lock which probably can be picked. The safe stands on a concrete and tile flooring. There is a space overhead hardly big enough for a man to secrete himself. The sides of the safe are in plain view of two streets.�
“Go on,� said Fay as Saidee Isaacs glanced up. “That’s your handwriting. I still think you went to Holland.�
“Be careful! Don’t tell all that you think, Chester. You’ll spoil our midnight party.�
“It’s almost a daylight one!�
She glanced at a pantry window. “Gray dawn,� she said musingly. “The cold, gray dawn, Chester.�
“And time I’m going, I suppose,� he said, reaching and taking the diagram. He held it before him and ran his eyes to left and right over the paper. His glance was the keen darting one of a professional.
“This stairway?� he asked, pointing toward a series of shaded lines. “Where does that lead?�
“Down to a basement.�
“What’s in it?�
“Rooms, where some of the embassy’s staff spend the day. There’s no one there at night. The guards are outside. One watchman stays by the safe. He usually sleeps from three to four-thirty. He gets coffee, then, from a woman who brings it to him.�
Fay glanced at her without betraying his mood.
“This packet Sir Richard told me about?� he asked. “This cipher’s key, done up in paper with string around it and a name across one corner, is where, Saidee?�
“On a top shelf in the keister. You’ll have to go through the day-door, the outer door and the keister door before you reach it.�
Fay arched his brows and leaned over toward her. “What’s upstairs?� he inquired.
“More rooms and offices. Sometimes the embassy’s staff work all night in the front chambers. You can usually tell by a light in the front. If there’s no light then the staff has completed its work and gone home.�
“Very precise, Saidee. You’re clearing up things, nicely. Also, you’ve been there for the Yard. Nothing on this earth could make me believe that you haven’t.�
“Finish your tea,� she said, “and come into the other room.�
Fay pocketed the diagram and fingered the little silver greyhound as he rose and followed Saidee Isaacs through the doorway.
She stood near the divan but did not motion for himto sit down. Her eyes fastened upon his tweed cap close by her own. She gathered her lips into a sympathetic pucker as she asked:
“Have you any money?�
Fay tapped his trousers pocket. “Plenty,� he said lightly. “I’ve money and more money coming. The clinking quid, Saidee! Remember how we went after it, once?�
“We took the wrong road, Chester.� She turned and stared at him. Her eyes opened and studied his silver-gray hair. His keen, white features and rounded chin brought her over the years and then back again.
“You promise me,� she asked, “that you will go straight? That you will get a sleep at some respectable hotel and meet whom you are to meet tonight? That you will remember me on your trip to Holland?�
Fay reached and picked up his cap. He remembered that his overcoat was beneath the hedge outside the window. There was one other matter. He moved close to her side and touched the sleeve of her bathrobe.
“Saidee,� he inquired in a deadly level voice, “when did you see Dutch Gus?�
He had expected a surprise. Her arm grew rigid. Her head turned and flashed the jewels of the necklace till they dazzled his eyes. The olive purity of her face changed to a flushing rage. She swished around, jerked her arm from him and shot a shimmer of fire from beneath her dark lashes.
“Dutch Gus! That man? He followed me to Holland! Now you know! He queered my mission for the Yard!�
“Queered it?�
Saidee Isaacs paced the floor of the room. Her eyes shone tawny and fire-laden as she came up to Fay and grasped his shoulder.
“Promise me you willgethim!�
“Sure! Where is he?�
“In London, somewhere. He’s in with a mob of Germans and Austrians who are after the dye cipher. They found out where I was going—why I was going to Holland. They didn’t have the nerve to attempt the safe, Chester. They didn’t! They waited until I tried—and failed. They stole my luggage coming back. They kidnapped my French maid. They did everything. They maydomore!â€� Saidee Isaacs reached swiftly and snatched up the revolver.
“Take this, Chester! You may need it!�
“Go easy,â€� said Fay as he felt the revolver slipping into his pocket. “Go easy, Saidee. You better keep it here. Dutch Gus was trying to prowl the house when I got through the hedge. It was him on the electric door-mat. I didn’t—â€�
“Are you sure?� Her voice lowered and gained in timbre. “Are you sure, Chester?�
“I saw him trying to pick the front-door lock. He heard me coming or got a signal. He dashed for the back of the house and the garage. He went through the greenhouse, by the sound he made. Always clumsy!�
“That was him!� She reached and lifted the revolver. She cocked it and lowered her right hand. “I’ll keep it,� she said determinedly. “You switchout the light and leave now. If he comes, I’ll empty all five cartridges into him. I’d do it gladly!�
Fay started toward the switch on the wall. He glanced at the long windows. One was up where he had left a possible escape. The light of a London morning showed through this opening.
He snapped off the switch. The two stood in the center of the room as he stepped back to her side. He felt her presence in deep breathing. A softness came over him. It was five years since he had talked to a woman.
“Saidee,� he said. “Dutch Gus won’t bother you now. It’s daybreak. You know him! He never works in the light!�
“But tonight I may—â€�
“Tonight I leave for Holland—or elsewhere. What do you say we chuck the job for the Yard and take up the old trail? There’s Havre and the other ports where American gold flows. There’s Monte Carlo, still doing business. The world is torn wide open. We can clean up a million.â€�
“And get caught!�
“No! I’ve the greyhound and my old nerve. We can go toward the north and west and double back by way of Stavanger, Norway. We can work the boats. The commercial war is on! What will the cipher do for us? The Yard will thank me if I get it, and perhaps remit that five years I owe to Dartmoor. That’s all I’ve got to look forward to.�
“Isn’t it enough, Chester?�
“No!�
“But then you’ll be clean! You can come to me with open hands, and I’ll be here. Crime has had its day!�
Fay moved toward the window. “Good-by,� he said, lifting up the sash and peering out. “Good-by, Saidee,� he added as he glanced back in the half-gloom.
“Where are you going?�
“Somewhere to think it over.�
She glided over the rug and reached for his arm. Her face pressed close to his. He felt her hot breath. Her eyes burned a message into his own.
“You’re going to square it?� she whispered tensely.
“I’ll think it over.�
“You’re going to square it?� she repeated as her fingers clutched tighter about his sleeve.
“Yes,� he said hesitatingly.
“Promise me, Chester.�
“I promise.�
“And you’ll meet those people at London Bridge Station tonight?�
“MacKeenon?�
“Yes.�
“I’ll keep the meet.�
“You have your cap and the diagram and the greyhound—the little silver insignia that keeps a man from harm?â€�
“I have them, Saidee!�
“Then go, quickly!â€� she said, leaning down. “Go and get the cipher-key. It means so much to you—and the world!â€�
“Adieu!� he breathed as he thrust his legs throughthe window’s opening and touched the ground with his toes.
“Au revoir, pal,� she flashed with her old fire. “Go now and get ready for the game! Good-by, Chester Fay! Good-by!�
He heard the sash softly close as he turned away from the house.